Do You Not Yet Have Faith?

28 Sunday Jan 2018

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Bible Reflections, Blessed Sacrament, Confession, Eucharistic Adoration, Faith, Fear, Prayer, Reconciliation

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Desert, Faith, I Trust In You, Jesus, Mark 1:21-28, Mark 4:40, Prayer, Reconciliation, Reflection, Spiritual Warfare

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– St. Augustine

God continues to work in my life! And, after reading today’s Gospel, Mark 1:21-28, about Jesus casting out the unclean spirit from the man in the synagogue; and yesterday’s Gospel, Mark 4:35-41, about the Apostles’ lack of faith while in their boat during the storm, I feel compelled to tell you how He recently touched me and helped my faith grow deeper.

My wife and I had a wonderful but busy Christmas season. We traveled to Europe to visit our daughter who was studying abroad, and we toured parts of Belgium, France and Germany.

We returned home on the 31st and caught up on a few necessary items before driving to Kansas City on Friday the 5th for our grandson Jack’s third birthday. Then, on Monday, I went on to my second in-residence week of training (also in Kansas City) to become a spiritual mentor.

To say that I had been looking forward to this week would be an understatement. I was dying to get there and experience another week of God’s peace and the joy that radiates from the Sisters of the Apostles of the Interior Life (AVI).

Don’t get me wrong, I truly loved spending quality time with my wife and daughter over the holiday, but with all the traveling and site-seeing I let my daily routine of meditative prayer slide. And, I dearly missed it. I was so looking forward to getting back on track, to the spiritual formation and the times of silence and solitude in the coming week.

When I checked in I immediately felt a sense of belonging. The Sisters of the AVI and alumni mentors were there to meet me and the other students with whom I had become friends during our first session last May. We soon went to mass, had dinner, and had our first classroom session.

By bedtime I was ready to pack my bags, get in my truck and go home.

In a matter of a few hours everything about me transformed from being on fire to being consumed with doubt in my ability to ever succeed as a mentor, and a total sense of unworthiness to be there amid so many holy people. I hurt.

I laid in bed begging Jesus for direction on what I needed to do to shake the fear. I was confused and worried. I knew I needed to trust in Him but I just couldn’t make myself let go.

I awoke the next morning in worse condition than when I fell asleep. I prayed but still didn’t know what to do. I began my daily meditation by reading the scripture for the day. The Gospel for that morning, January 9th, was Mark 1:21-28 (the same passage as today). When I read about Jesus casting out the demon from the man, I was reminded of the spiritual warfare I had last year that made me fearful of posting on my blog. It was deja vu all over again! I thought, “Okay, been there and done that”, so I changed my prayer from, “Jesus, help me figure this out!”, to, “Jesus, I trust in You!” I prayed for the grace to truly turn it over to Him.

But, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t happening.

The order of the day began with morning prayer followed by meditation, an opportunity for reconciliation, an hour of Eucharistic Adoration, and a half day of silent retreat dubbed “the Desert”. Fr. Allessandro led the meditation in his soft, kind, Italian accented voice. Between his accent, my hearing aids and the acoustics in the chapel, I barely understood a word he said. But, somewhere in the middle of his talk I heard, “In the desert, you can’t hide from your fear.”

I knew God was talking to me and I was meant to hear those words even if I understood nothing else. I knew something was going to happen while “in the Desert”, but I didn’t know what.

Feeling ashamed of my failure to put all my faith in Jesus, I felt compelled to go to reconciliation as soon as the meditation was over. I confessed to Fr. Steve that my prayer life had been naught over the prior three weeks and I desperately wanted to get it back. I explained my feeling of unworthiness to be there and confessed that I simply couldn’t find a way to turn it over and totally trust in Jesus. Kindly, he told me there isn’t a day goes by during which he doesn’t feel unworthy to be a priest but he knows God called him to be one. And, he told me he knows God called me to be there and to be in the program. Christ, working through Fr. Steve’s hands, forgave me for my unbelief.

I left the confessional and said my one Our Father for my penance. I knelt on the tile floor before Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament and I started to say, “Jesus, I trust in You.” But, before I uttered the first syllable, I felt an overwhelming rush of consuming love wash over me. If I hadn’t already been on both knees, I would have collapsed to them. In that instant of giving my heart and fear to Him, I felt and heard Him say, “Don’t be afraid, I’ve got this! You’re my beloved.” I broke into tears.

From that moment, the rest of the week was perfect! I couldn’t have asked for more.

Later that day, I recalled the one other time I felt touched by Jesus in this same way (see Put Your Faith Where Your Prayer Is ). It was when I was praying for my four day old grandson Jack’s life as he lay in the NICU at Children’s Mercy Hospital in Kansas City. I had finally realized there was nothing I could do to help him when, in that moment of giving it up I began to say, “Jesus, I trust in You”, He hit me with the same overwhelming feeling of love and I heard Him tell me, “Don’t be afraid, Jack’s going to be okay.”

Thinking about Jack now as a healthy and normal little boy, I realized it was exactly three years to the day since that first event. Coincidence? I don’t think so. No, I think it was Jesus reminding me and asking me, “Do you not yet have faith?” (Mark 4:40)

I know I’ve shared many stories over the last five years about how God has worked in my life. But, folks, He is with us and is just waiting for us to open our minds to the truth, our hearts to His love, and our eyes to see the tangible signs of his presence in everything around us. I’m nobody special. You can find Him in your life, too.

God bless you!

“Lord Jesus, thank You for Your infinite love, Your forgiveness, and Your patience. Thank You for leading me to the Father. Holy Spirit, thank You for opening my heart and mind to the Word of God, and for opening my eyes to see His presence in the ordinary things of my life. Amen.”

(Do You Not Yet Have Faith? was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

©2013-2018 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.

A Confessional Curveball

18 Friday Mar 2016

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Confession, Reconciliation

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Tags

Confession, Reconciliation, Sins of Commission, Sins of Omission

In yesterday’s post, Tomorrow May Not Come, I mentioned how, when examining my conscience before our parish communal penance service, I couldn’t think of any sins I had committed since my confession last Saturday. But, through a God-moment, I remembered there are two types of sins – Sins of Commission, things I’ve done wrong, and Sins of Omission, things I should have done but failed to do.

In the relatively short time I’ve been Catholic, I confess to you that I have never really understood the aspect of Sins of Omission until this last weekend when the two types were explained to me by a deacon. So, for the first time ever, I took time to examine my conscience in light of “what I had failed to do”. I didn’t come up with much but what I did find made the exercise worth doing.

I went to reconciliation last night and, to one of the four priests there, I confessed my sins of omission. And, I learned something interesting: most people focus on their wrong actions, their sins of commission, but very few take time to think about what they should have done but didn’t, their sins of omission. For when I told the priest the what and the why of the two things for which I was sorry, he said, “Whoa, wait a minute, it’s been years since anyone confessed to me what they have failed to do! Let me consider for a second what to do about this!” After a few moments he continued, “I’ll tell you what, it sounds like you know what you ought to do, so your penance is to go and do those things.” I think I heard a sigh of relief.

My guess is that most of you, when examining your own consciences, probably don’t think about your sins of omission. Maybe you ought to. Rise up and separate yourself from the crowd. It feels good to recognize those areas where you need to do better. And, as always, it feels good to receive forgiveness for them. But, there is something else: there’s just a touch of satisfaction in pitching a change-up and have the priest take it looking.

So, folks, when you take time for an examination of your conscience, consider your sins of omission. Broaden your repertoire. Then, instead of your usual fastball, go throw your priest a Confessional Curveball. He may appreciate it as much as you will.

God bless.

(A Confessional Curveball was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

©2016 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.

Tomorrow May Not Come

17 Thursday Mar 2016

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Confession, Reconciliation

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Tags

Confession, Mercy, Omission of Sins, Reconciliation, St. Augustine

The Confession, Crespi, 1712

The last few days have been extremely busy for me: out of town travel, nights away from home, meetings, extended conference calls, training, and the like. This morning on my way to work I thought, “Man, I’m looking forward to a quiet evening at home tonight, just my wife and me.” Then, about five minutes later when I got to work and checked my weekly calendar, I realized that tonight is already spoken for: we have our parish Lenten Communal Penance Service at 7:00 p.m. I had completely forgotten about it.

My reaction to this was, of course, to consider whether I’ve committed any sins since my last confession last Saturday. Thinking that I am in pretty good spiritual shape at the moment, I thought, “Nah, I’m good.”

At my mid-morning break I opened my daily devotional of writings of Saint Augustine. I was looking for today’s date but the little ribbon that marked the page of my last reading was on the previous page. Before flipping the page I casually perused what was written there, and then, smiling, I once again accepted that He often gives me the direction I need exactly when I need it. I read:

“God is not now so long-suffering in putting up with you that He will fail to be just in punishing. Do not say then: ‘Tomorrow I shall be converted, tomorrow I shall please God, and all that I shall have done today and yesterday will be forgiven me.’

“What you say is true: God has promised forgiveness if you turn back to Him. But, what He has not promised is that you will have tomorrow in which to achieve your conversion.” – Saint Augustine, Commentary on Psalm 144,11

I thought, “Okay, I hear You, God, you’re telling me I ought to perhaps rethink my plans for tonight.”

I suspect that wasn’t quite the reaction God was looking for because the very next thought that came to mind was the confession we make at the beginning of mass:

“I confess to almighty God, and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have sinned through my own fault, in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done, and in what I have failed to do….”

My mind zeroed in on the line, “….and in what I have failed to do”. My idea that I haven’t committed any sins in the last five days may be true, but I failed to consider my sins of omission, those things which I should have done but failed to do.

“Have I given my whole heart to God this week? Yeah, I think so.”

“Have I prayed as often as I should? Have my prayers been sincere and a true conversation with God? I’d say my piety has been better than normal lately.”

“Have I loved my family as I should and let them know my love for them? Ah ha! Because I’ve been so busy, I haven’t talked to my daughters this week and told them how much I love them! I need to do that.”

“In the absence of committing an unkind act, have I omitted intentionally showing kindness to others? No, I think I did pretty well in this category.”

“Have I been productive when I could have been, or have I been lazy instead? Hmmm, okay, you’ve got me there, that important thing I’ve been procrastinating about needs my serious attention!”

I guess I know where I’ll be tonight. But, that’s okay. As I often hear people say, “It’s all good”. I’ve never been to reconciliation without coming away feeling relieved, as though my load is lightened. I always feel God’s presence and feel strengthened by His forgiving Love.

This is the season of Lent. And, if your parish has a Lenten Penance Service, take advantage of it and let God’s mercy lift some of that excess baggage off of you. If you’ve let your parish Penance Service pass you by, you still have time before Holy week to take advantage of your regularly scheduled reconciliation opportunity. Make time for it. Open your heart and let God’s presence and His Healing Light shine into the dark recesses of your soul, and be renewed. God is constantly ready to forgive us if we just turn to Him. Do it soon. Your “tomorrow” may not come.

God bless you all.

(Tomorrow May Not Come was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

The Bad and Good of Sinning on Monday

24 Wednesday Jun 2015

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Confession, Eucharistic Adoration, Reconciliation

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Tags

Confession, Eucharistic Adoration, God-moments, Mercy, Reconciliation, St. Augustine

The Return of the Prodigal Son – Bartolome’ Murillo, 1670

I’m a sinner. We all are in our own way and to our own degree. It’s our nature. It’s called concupiscence.

It seems no matter how hard I try I can’t not sin. Oh, I can go for three or four straight weeks and only commit a few minor venial sins (or so I think), but inevitably, through my own conscious free will, I cave in to temptation or an old habit that hasn’t yet been completely unlearned; or I act rashly in a disrespectful or uncharitable manner which I immediately regret. It tears me up – mostly because I know what I did was wrong and, also, partly because it injures the pride I’ve built up for having worked hard to improve and sin less as time has passed.

When I do this I know that waiting until Sunday morning mass and asking for forgiveness during the Penitential Act just isn’t going to cut it. No, there’s only one thing I can do to get right with God – make a trip to Reconciliation on Saturday afternoon and humbly lay it on the line to Him. The guilt and shame weighs heavily enough on my conscience that I know it’s pointless for me to try to talk my way out of it.

It seems to me that my most serious falls from grace occur early in the week, on Monday or Tuesday. When that happens I have the rest of the week until Saturday to contemplate and painfully stew on the thing(s) I wish I hadn’t done. Why can’t I commit all my more serious sins on Friday night or Saturday morning?

Sometimes during those several days between sin and forgiveness I find myself creating elaborate excuses for why I did the misdeed. But, eventually, I always get to, and spend sufficient time at, the appropriate level of contriteness needed for my confession. This, I think, is one of the beautiful things about the Catholic Church. The Sacrament of Reconciliation is such a great gift. Confessing my transgressions to God while I’m physically looking into the eyes of a real person, forces me to be honest with myself, the priest, and especially with Him. If I couldn’t do that I’m sure I would fall victim to my own inventions, justifying that the onus for my actions belongs elsewhere instead of solely with me.

When I do visit the priest and confess my sins to God with a truly contrite heart, and promise to not sin in that way again, I am often surprised at the lenient penance given to me. I usually feel as though I deserve less mercy and I’m always grateful for the mercy I do receive. But, then, sometimes I believe that those few days during which I agonized over my sin until I could get to confession may have served as partial penance. At least I hope so.

Last week as I waited for Saturday to roll around, I made my usual Holy Hour of Adoration on Friday afternoon. The convenience of this dawned on me: it is the perfect, last chance opportunity to thoroughly examine my conscience, shed the excuses and take full ownership for my actions. After all, it would be just a little difficult, if not foolish, to not get it right while I’m kneeling in front of the Tabernacle looking up at Jesus, and Him looking down upon me.

During that quiet hour last Friday I took time to read from my daily St. Augustine devotional. I was a couple weeks behind so I picked up where I left off with the passage from June 4th entitled, “Pride Can Destroy”. St. Augustine wrote:

“Paradoxically, it is good, in a way, for those who observe continence and are proud of it to fall, so that they may be humbled in that very thing on which they pride themselves. What benefit is continence for us if pride holds sway over our lives?”

What can I say? I can’t make this stuff up. He knows what I need to hear! This was just another one of those God-moments I’ve come to expect while I’m at Adoration. I looked at the Tabernacle and thought what a great and merciful Lord we have. All He wants us to do when we are tempted to sin is to look to Him and ask for His help. So simple, but our human nature makes it so difficult to accept His will. And I thought, if this is the way He reveals the truth to me, then, if I’m going to sin, maybe it’s not such a bad thing after all to do so early in the week!

I continued to read my devotional. Each daily passage is followed by a prayer from St. Augustine. The prayer for June 5^th read:

“Lord, You truly gave me free will, but without You my effort is worthless. You give help since You are the One Who created, and You do not abandon Your creation.”

Amen.

(The Bad and Good of Sinning on Monday was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

©2015 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.

Put Your Faith Where Your Prayer Is

10 Tuesday Feb 2015

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Faith, Fear, Hope, Prayer, Reconciliation, Scripture

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Tags

Faith, Fear, God-moments, Hope, Jason Gray, Mary, Prayer, Reconciliation, Rosary

Photo: Catholicexchange.com

On January 5^th I became a grandfather for the second time. My grandson, Jack, and his parents came home from the hospital on the 7^th. On the evening of the 8^th Jack stopped breathing.

My wife, Melinda, was holding him when the event occurred. Her sister, Barbara, who is an RN, and her husband, Dave, a physician, had stopped by to visit and see the new arrival as they were driving from South Dakota to St. Louis. They helped revive him. The EMTs arrived and whisked Jack to the hospital where he spent the next 17 days undergoing a plethora of tests. Jack is home now and doing well.

But, this story really isn’t about Jack. I needed to set the stage with his life-threatening event in order to relate the life-changing experience I had because of it.

In my life I have had no major tragedies, and only one significant infirmity, within my immediate family. Thus, after Melinda phoned me the next morning, I wasn’t as cool and collected as I had been trained to be in emergency situations. Panicked would be a better adjective. I prepared to go home, pack a bag, and start the ten hour drive from Ohio to Kansas City. But first, I sent an email to friends from church and to the coordinator of our parish prayer chain describing the situation and asking for prayers.

I’ve never driven so far with something so heavy weighing on my heart and mind. Before I reached Indianapolis I found myself crying, fraught with fear for Jack’s health and grief for Lisa and Joe. I felt helpless. I’m a man and an engineer. One of my jobs is to fix problems. Not knowing how to fix little Jack nor how to comfort my daughter was eating me up.

At a rest stop just past Indy I checked my phone for emails. Angie, a dear friend back home, emailed saying she believed that Jack’s guardian angel was with him the night before. Had he been lying down instead of being held, he could have stopped breathing with no one the wiser. Then, she stressed that Barb and Dave were there by no mere coincidence. She believed they were sent there by God at just the moment Jack needed them. Her message was so positive and encouraging, and she lifted my spirits.

But, by the time I reached Illinois I was again in a state of despair. Searching the console between the seats for a napkin to wipe my tears, I found, instead, one of my rosaries. I don’t know how it got there; I don’t remember putting it there. I am not accomplished at praying the Rosary but I sensed I was meant to find that rosary at that moment, and, if there was ever a time to ask Our Lady to intercede and help me in my prayers to Jesus, I felt this was it.

It was Friday and the Sorrowful Mysteries were to be prayed. I contemplated the first Mystery, The Agony of Jesus in the Garden, and read, “In praying to the Father, Jesus found strength, trust, and an angel was sent to comfort Him. So, Jesus will be your comforting angel. It’s as He said to us, ‘Why do you worry in your difficulties? Be strong in Me; look to your God in your most troubled hour, and you will be triumphant.’”

The second Mystery, The Scourging of Jesus at the Pillar, reminded me to bear my pain for the love of our Lord. The third Mystery, The Crowning with Thorns, suggested, “He seems to say to us, ‘Why do you despair when you suffer? Is that the way you love me? Meditate about my passions.’ Let us ask for the gift of patience in our suffering.”

In the fourth Mystery, The Carrying of the Cross, I contemplated how Jesus accepted His suffering out of His love for us. I thought about how His Mother, Mary, must have felt as they met on the road to Calvary. “Oh, how Her Heart must have ached.” I felt we had something in common.

And, finally, as I prayed the fifth Mystery, The Crucifixion and Death of Jesus, I was reminded of Jesus’ words to his disciple just before He died, “Behold your Mother”, and how He wishes that we depend on Her Immaculate Heart for a refuge.

Over the next couple hours I thought much about these messages. I didn’t know how to “give it up”, so I prayed fervently for the Lord to help me help Jack and his parents.

West of St. Louis I took my rosary in hand and prayed again. This time I asked the Lord to take away my pain and suffering or, at least, let me bear it so that Jack and his parents would not have to.

I arrived at the hospital in time to see Jack for a few minutes before visiting hours were over. Seeing him connected to all those wires and tubes was difficult. But, seeing the fear in Lisa’s and Joe’s eyes was even more so.

That night, before bed, I prayed for God to help them and to help me know what to do.

On Saturday morning I saw an article on social media about self-pity and how we need to look to God instead of to ourselves. This drifted in and out of my conscious thoughts the rest of the morning.

Also that morning, I discovered a headlight out on my car. I didn’t need that, but I knew it would need repairing before heading home the next day. I spent a few precious minutes with Jack back at the hospital before I left for the dealership. Standing there, unable to hold him, I still felt helpless. I knew Lisa felt the same way.

On my way to the dealership, I recalled Angie’s note, the messages I received from praying the Rosary, the message about self-pity, and my despair of not knowing what to do. Then, with the images of Jack wired to the monitors, and the concern on my daughter’s face, my emotions reached a climax. I’m not sure how to explain what happened next. I think I realized it was all beyond me, that only God could help. I think, in my heart, I finally gave it up to Him. I say “I think” because, in the nanosecond in which I made that leap of faith, I went from bewilderment to immediate, unprecedented, and intense joy. I instantly began praying, “Thank you, Jesus, thank you!” In that moment when I had unconsciously placed my trust in Him, He told me Jack was going to be okay. I also knew that my faith had finally become more than words.

Over the next couple hours, He reinforced my faith with more God-moments. Afraid I was likely to have a wreck, I got control of my emotions. I turned on the stereo and the first song I heard was one from Jason Gray, A Way to See in the Dark¹:

“Here I am begging for certainty again / But simple trust is what You’re asking me to give…

“The question mark hung at the end of every fear / Is answered by the promise that You are with me here / And that’s all I’ve got when the lights go out and I lose my way / So, I’ll close my eyes, I won’t be afraid, I won’t be afraid.

“And, I’ll reach for your hand in the night / When the shadows swallow the light / ‘Cause I’m giving up, giving in / Once again a childlike faith is my only way to see in the dark….”

I have listened to this song hundreds of times but this was the first time I actually heard its message. It was like Jesus telling me, “Son, how many times do I have to tell you to trust in Me?”

At the moment I pulled into the dealership I received a text from Eric, a friend back home, saying he was praying for Jack and the rest of us. This text was special because Eric is the one person I know who routinely says, “Let go and let God.” It was as if he intuitively knew I had just done so for the first time in my life.

Preparing for a long wait, I grabbed my rosary and a devotional from my back pack. Since it was Saturday, the Joyful Mysteries were the prayers of the day (Coincidence? I don’t think so!). My take-away message from this Rosary was, “In the difficulties of life, the only safety is finding Jesus and never again leaving his great love.”

I had not taken time that morning to read Saturday’s scriptures. The first reading for January 10^th included 1 John 5:14-15, and said, “Beloved: We have this confidence in him that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us in regard to whatever we ask, we know that what we have asked him for is ours.” God was telling me again, “Trust me!”

The Gospel for that day, included John 3:30: “He must increase; I must decrease.” It was a reminder to look constantly to Jesus instead of inwardly with self-pity like I had the last day and a half.

From my devotional for January 10th I read: “Practice trusting Me during quiet days, when nothing much seems to be happening. Then when storms come, your trust balance will be sufficient to see you through. Store up for yourself treasure in heaven, through placing your trust in Me. This practice will keep you in My Peace.”²

I thought, “Okay, Lord, I get it now. In one hour, You have, in several ways, affirmed there is no such thing as despair if I will only put my faith and hope in You.”

Finally, I read the daily reflection from Presentation Ministries. It referenced 1 John 5:16 saying, “Many have not had Christmas because they have not repented of sin in their lives. Through the Lord’s forgiveness, they will be given Christmas just before the season ends. On this second to last day of the Christmas season, go to Confession. For so many, Confession is the key to Christmas.”

At 2:10 p.m. my car was repaired. I wanted to get back to the hospital to see more of Jack, but, I now felt pulled to go to Reconciliation. I found the Queen of the Holy Rosary Church was on my route back to the hospital and they had Confession at 2:30 p.m. I arrived there at 2:27 p.m. After relating my story to the priest and confessing my sin of not trusting God, he assigned me a penance to say a prayer of Thanksgiving.

When I returned to the hospital and saw the little man again I knew in my heart he was going to be okay. I didn’t know when but I knew, in God’s time, he would be. I felt the positive power of hundreds of prayers being said for him. I was at peace.

It is in these God-moments, when the Lord reveals Himself to me, that I feel closest to Him. I now know what Eric means by, “Let go and let God.” I know what trusting in Him means. And, I now know how to put my faith where my prayer is.

(Put Your Faith Where Your Prayer Is was first published in Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

¹ A Way To See In the Dark, ©2011 Centricity Music Publishing, (ASCAP)/Nothing is Wasted Music (ASCAP)/Simply Complex Songs (SESAC)/Countermechanical Music (SESAC)/Centric Songs (SESAC), words and music by Jason Gray, Doug McKelvey, and Seth Mosley.

The Innkeeper and His Wife

19 Friday Dec 2014

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Christmas, Grace and Mercy, Love, Mary, Reconciliation

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

A.J. Cronin, Charity, Christmas, Grace, Innkeeper, Innkeeper's wife, Jason Gray, Love, Reconciliation

As a youngster I remember being read Christmas stories of the Nativity. The most prominent memory is that of Mary and Joseph being refused accommodations at the inn in Bethlehem. I thought what a terrible man the innkeeper must have been to refuse giving a room to a poor pregnant girl and her husband, especially since she was carrying baby Jesus!

This memory came back to me the other day from two different sources. First, as I dusted off my Christmas music CDs, I found Christmas Stories: Repeat the Sounding Joy, by Jason Gray. Track 4 on the CD is titled Rest (The Song of the Innkeeper)¹, a story from the perspective of the innkeeper.

Then, I was looking through my library and I found the classic short story, The Innkeeper’s Wife²,by A.J. Cronin, a Scotsman, who, was commissioned to write a Christmas story for the December 21, 1958 issue of The American Weekly magazine. As his title suggests, he chose to write from the wife’s perspective.

After my last post in which I tried to imagine being in the shoes of Mary’s parents, Joachim and Anne, I found myself contemplating the Nativity of our Lord by comparing the perspectives of both the innkeeper and his wife through the lens of these two story tellers. I’d like to invite you to imagine back and make this journey with me:

It’s December in Palestine. There’s a dusting of snow on the ground and a chill in the air.

Residents are under the oppressive thumb of the Roman procurator, Herod, and “forced to worship as idols the deified Emperor set up in the temple.”² Herod has ordered that all people must go to the temple to register for the census and pay their taxes.

There is a constant stream of people transiting through Bethlehem. Our innkeeper, Elah², laments, “There were no rooms to rent tonight, the only empty bed is mine, I’m overbooked and overrun, with so many things that must be done, until I’m numb and running blind!”¹He is turning people away.

This has been going on for weeks. Elah and his wife, Seraia², are running out of food to feed their guests. They’re making money but it is wearing on them. Their marriage is strained and Seraia is getting hints of Elah’s possible infidelity.

It’s been a rough, tense day for the two when a young, pregnant woman and her older husband, cold and dirty with worn robes, come into the inn asking for shelter. Now comes the moment of reckoning – how the proprietors respond to Joseph’s and Mary’s plea.

In Gray’s story, the innkeeper turns the pair away from the inn but leaves us to assume that, with some measure of charity, he offers his stable to Joseph and Mary (“…But at least they won’t be wondering, if they’re sleeping on my stable floor”).

He confesses his belief that his people will be delivered from their current plight by a Messiah, but he alludes that perhaps the busyness of life doesn’t give him the time he needs to pray for it (“As a boy I heard the old men sing, about a Kingdom and a coming King. But keeping books and changing beds put a different song inside my head, and the melody is deafening.”). Then, in his fatigue, the innkeeper makes a desperate plea for deliverance (“I need rest, I need rest, Oh come oh come Emmanuel, with a sword deliver Israel, I need rest!”).

Gray closes his song with a beautiful bit of irony. Believing that the Messiah will be a sword wielding King, it never crosses the innkeeper’s mind that his Savior, and the peace for which he is searching, is lying in a bed of straw in his own manger (“Tonight I can’t get any sleep with those shepherds shouting in the streets. A star is shining much too bright, somewhere I hear a baby cry, and all I want is a little peace.”).

In A.J. Cronin’s short story, he draws us deeper into the event by closely examining the players: Elah, Seraia, and Malthace, one of the hired help and Elah’s supposed mistress.

Seraia, the wife, is introduced as loving, tolerant, and forgiving, but emotionally bruised from the loss of a baby during child-birth which has driven a wedge between her and her husband. Now, Elah has turned his attention to the alluring Malthace leaving Seraia lonely and ignored.

Elah is obviously struggling to cope with the pace of business due to the influx of travelers into Bethlehem. He is gruff, self-centered and bedraggled.

When Mary and Joseph present themselves at the inn looking for a place to stay, Elah angrily turns them away without a shred of charity. Seraia, on the other hand, exhibits compassion for the couple and, through her gentle heart, takes pity on them and leads them to the stable, a small cave cut into the bank opposite the inn, and invites them to shelter there.

The story continues with the birth of Jesus and Seraia befriending the couple, helping them care for the baby Jesus. She retrieves from her room the swaddling clothes she made for her baby, but which were never used, and offers them to Mary for her special baby. Seraia develops a bond with Mary and falls in love with the infant child.

Seraia is observant and notices that ever since the child was born there has been a new bright start in the eastern night sky and it has been moving higher each night. She mentions this to Elah but he is more intent to complain about the racket from the lowly shepherds who have come down from the hills “proclaiming tidings of great joy for all people, crying aloud that light was come into the world, that the glory of the Lord was around them.”

Elah eventually learns that his wife has been sheltering the couple and that their child has been born. He does finally notice the new bright and rising star and soon encounters “three horsemen, richly dressed and of dark complexion” who are perhaps “potentates from the East”. These strange visitors will have nothing to do with him but, instead, head straight for the stable. He notices that each is carrying a rare and valuable gift: one of gold, one of frankincense, and one of myrrh.

Curious, Elah sneaks a peek into the stable and there sees Mary and Joseph, the three esteemed visitors, and Jesus being held by his mother. While he observes the presentation of the gifts, “the child in his mother’s arms moved slightly and turned its gaze full upon him. As that single glance from those innocent and unreproachful eyes, filled with such tenderness and grace, fell upon the innkeeper, he could not sustain it. A shock passed through him, his own glance fell to the ground. Instinctively he turned away and, like one intent only upon escape, went back across the yard as though pursued.”

Elah is shaken. He is suddenly aware of his guilt: his lack of love towards his wife; the absence of charity to the couple in his stable; and his dearth of compassion to everyone else. He makes a commitment to change and set things right. He finds kindness towards Seraia; dismisses Malthace; and makes an attempt to make amends to Mary and Joseph only to find that they have departed because, according to Seraia, “Herod, the procurator, means evil towards the little one.”

The story closes with husband and wife finding peace and restoring their love for each other. Seraia vows to remember and celebrate the anniversary of the birth of this special child. And, in a strange twist, the innkeepers are recompensed for their hospitality when they find, left behind in the manger, the King’s gift of gold in the rough shape of a cross.

Both Gray and Cronin present very imaginative stories in their own right. In Gray’s, the innkeeper was so set on believing their savior would be a mighty warrior king that he never opened his heart to God incarnate. And, in Cronin’s, the innkeeper would have met the same fate had it not been for his forgiving and loving wife who provided shelter to the couple. Through her the opportunity was created for him to gaze upon the Christ child, Who ultimately returned love to his heart.

As I get closer to Christmas, I know Jesus has looked me in the eye and helped me evaluate my heart. He has made me more aware of my love for others and He has helped me see my guilt. I feel fortunate to have, at last night’s penance service, been able to reconcile and receive the grace of His forgiveness. Now, when I give the gift of myself to Him on the anniversary of His birth, my heart will be clean.

How long has it been since you let Him stare into your heart and convict you? It’s not too late.

Merry Christmas and God Bless.

©2014 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 Parable of the Lost Son – Part Two

02 Sunday Jun 2013

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Confession, Prayer, Reconciliation, Renewal

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

God-moments, Golden Boy, Jason Gray, Parable of the Prodigal Son, Prayer, Reconciliation, Self-mercy

My last posting was about showing mercy to yourself and it was labeled Part One because I felt what I had to say was too long for one post. My plan was to simply wait a week and post the remainder of it as Part Two. But, things changed. In the last week I have had some very thought provoking and inspiring conversation with a close friend who helped me work through some issues and, as a result of his caring and insight, I felt it necessary to revise what I had previously written. It’s a little longer than I would have liked but I hope it’s worth your time to read it.

It seems this parable of Jesus’ won’t leave me alone. I think that’s probably a sign I need it. The author of Advent’s Little Blue Book, which I referenced in Part One, decided to write in the Lenten season’s Little Black Book on March 11, 2013 more about this parable. This time he took a different approach. He wrote:

“Jesus composed the parable of the prodigal son because of complaints from the Pharisees and scribes that Jesus was welcoming sinners and eating with them. Jesus was too easy on sinners, they said. He celebrated with them. His forgiveness was instantaneous; his spirit was warmth and joy. It was okay for the Pharisees and scribes to let sinners reform….but they wanted them to crawl back. Let them learn a lesson. Let them stew for a while. It’s no time for celebration – this is serious, grim business. So Jesus put together a story in which the elder son ends up telling the father that he was too easy on the younger son.”

“To appreciate the impact of Jesus’ parable, I need to see that Jesus is arguing about me. That’s me the Pharisees and scribes are talking about – a sinner who is constantly forgiven and loved by God. Someone is complaining that I have sinned before, and that my repentance is far from perfect. Jesus knows my motives aren’t always perfect. That’s why he told the parable of the Prodigal Son. It describes my relationship with God in real life terms.”

In Part One, I asked whether you have ever done something that has left you shaking your head because, in hindsight, you realized it was either morally or ethically wrong, something that was way out of character for you but you did it anyway even though you knew it was wrong, or something that you have been trying not to do but it just happens without you thinking about it and you don’t yet know how to keep yourself from doing it? In Jason Gray’s song The Golden Boy and the Prodigal, the last verse of which I quoted in Part One, he alludes to this situation this time in the first verse of the song¹:

There are two sides to every person, like the two sides of a dime

Heads or tails it depends upon who’s watching at the time.

Though I hate to say it mine is no exception,

One part is the Prodigal, the other part deception.

I love those first two lines. That’s me. For example, if you asked a family member, a friend or two, and a couple co-workers what type of person I am, I’m sure you would get several different opinions. Another example would be that I can keep a promise to someone else but often fail to keep promises to myself. Generally, I’d say the person most people see in me is the Golden Boy, or the deception, and the person I see when I look in the mirror is the Prodigal. And that’s what bothers me.

Let me give you an example. I’ve been trying to lose a little weight. Well, a lot of weight actually but a little is a starting point. I’ve told the people at my main office in Ohio of my intentions, I guess you could say they are pseudo accountability partners for me, and when I eat lunch there I’m usually pretty good about what I eat. But, when I’m away from that office I find it easy to slip-slide and pig out without anyone the wiser. A couple weeks before my baptism into the Church I was at our office in Indiana and I gave a presentation to a group of employees. It was a stressful presentation and it ran up to lunch time. They ordered pizza in for lunch and I ate most of a large pizza on my own before I hit the road. As I was on my way out of town I passed a Dairy Queen and had an immediate urge for a Blizzard. The marquee said the special was mint brownie chip. A small wasn’t good enough so I got a medium sized one, instead. It was darn good, too. Then, about ten miles down the road it hit me what I had just done! It was like I was on auto pilot or something. The stress from the meeting drove the cravings and they drove the overindulgence. Not until I relaxed was I cognizant of what had just taken place. I found a section of road with a wide shoulder, I pulled over and I commenced giving myself a mental beating that was sure to have made the devil proud. I had been praying every day for help and strength to get past the temptations and I promised myself and God that I would do better. Up until this point I had been doing pretty well. But this day I fell, and fell hard. I sat there in my car, consumed with remorse, praying for forgiveness, and I promised again that I would do better. I was making myself “crawl back” just like the Pharisees would have me do. And, unlike I suggested in Part One, I obviously had forgotten everything I had learned about showing mercy to myself.

In my pre-Catholic life things would happen every now and then that I would call coincidence. But, in my new life I find myself looking for those instances and, because of that, they seem to happen much more frequently and with such clarity that I no longer believe them to be coincidences. I believe they happen on purpose and I call them God-moments: those times when God shows Himself in some unexpected way. What would happen next was just one of those moments.

I collected myself and I put the car in drive, waited for the traffic to clear and I pulled back on the road. I turned the car stereo on. Now, I hadn’t listened to the stereo since sometime the previous day and wasn’t even sure what was in the CD player. But, the very first words to come out of the speakers were these²:

Too long have I lived in the shadows of shame

Believing that there was no way I could change

But the one who is making everything new

Doesn’t see me the way that I do

I am not who I was, I am being remade

I am new

I am chosen and holy and I’m dearly loved

I am new

Forgiven beloved, hidden in Christ

Made in the image of the Giver of Life

Righteous and holy, reborn and remade

Accepted and worthy, this is my new name

“The one who is making everything new doesn’t see me the way that I do…”. Now, if that isn’t God talking to me with the very words I needed to hear at the very moment when I needed Him the most, I don’t know what is. God wasn’t making me crawl back and he didn’t give me more time than I needed to stew on it, either. Just like Jesus said. And I didn’t waste any time in finding a place to pull back over and bow my head in prayer to offer my thanks to God for his love.

So, fast forward to this week and I was telling my friend about the stress I’ve been under lately, how I’ve not been living up to the promises I had made to myself, how I’m kicking myself over it, and about the dry spell in God-moments I’d been having. I told him I wasn’t sure what it would feel like to be in such good grace that I would feel an overpowering contentment from God’s love. My friend told me, “God loves you man. God loves the good and bad about you. No one is perfect. God knows that, we are not perfect. We all fall short and all sin…over and over again. But, God is there always to guide us. Look to God to help you, to change you, to better you as a person. God loves you as you are, no matter what. He knows you better than anyone and knows your sins. The instant you confess your sins they are forgiven. From there, let it go. Let God help you work on yourself to be a better you.” It was like my friend had just read that passage in the Little Black Book from March 11, and was paraphrasing it back to me.

So, I took a moment to pray for God to help me feel His love. And it was then that I remembered that instance in the car when those song lyrics played and reassured me of His love. I had forgotten that moment, that feeling. My friend’s caring and faithful counsel brought it back to me. It also reminded me of the need to show mercy to myself. Plus, I hadn’t had a good God-moment in weeks and here I was getting a load of them dumped on me all at once. Again, just what I needed to get me out of my funk. I thank God for His love and the love of good friends.

Good night and God bless.

Confession: Why Bother?

18 Thursday Apr 2013

Posted by CWhittenburg in Confession, Prayer, Reconciliation

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Biblical Submission, Confession, Ephesians 5, Reconciliation, servant leadership

Psalm 25:11 “For the sake of your name, O LORD, forgive my iniquity, though it is great.”

Throughout late 2010 and into all of 2011, I worked to become a better spiritual leader to Elissa and my three daughters. However, I struggled with the guilt of my past sins and prayed for guidance frequently. The answer, of course, was in front of me every Saturday afternoon before 5:30 mass but I tried not to see it. In December of 2011, God finally got through my thick skull that I needed to reconcile with Him by confessing my sins to Him through the sacrament of reconciliation.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church says, “The confession of sins, even from a simply human point of view, frees us and facilitates our reconciliation with others. Through such an admission, man looks squarely at the sins he is guilty of, takes responsibility for them, and thereby opens himself again to God and to the communion of the Church in order to make a new future possible.”

The problem was that I hadn’t been to confession in over 30 years and couldn’t even remember what to do. I had to look up the rules on-line and re-memorize an act of contrition. It seemed simple enough: Walk in, say hello Father it has been 30 years since my last confession. He’ll then ask me to state my sins. I figured that might take awhile for me. After that, he might ask me questions for clarification and then ask me to make an act of contrition, give me penance, and say a prayer of absolution. Why was it so hard for me to step into the confessional?

During Advent of 2011, I finally worked up the nerve to go. I did not tell Elissa in advance just in case I chickened out. I went to 7 a.m. mass downtown at the cathedral, spoke with the priest after mass, and confessed the worst of my past. When I was done, I felt a wave of relief and lightness in my soul that I had never felt before. Elissa and I had always joked that if I ever went, the poor priest’s head would explode with all my sins. I sent a simple text to Elissa “The priest’s head didn’t explode.”

Ephesians 4:22-24 “You should put away the old self of your former way of life, corrupted through deceitful desires, and be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and put on the new self, created in God’s way in righteousness and holiness of truth.”

Reconciliation brought me great relief and a renewed desire to grow in my faith. It brought me closer to God, and made me want to amend my life in several ways.

Reconciliation made me want to grow in my faith. I signed up for a Christ Renews His Parish (CRHP) weekend in April 2012. Hearing the stories of the men during my receiving weekend moved me deeply. I realized that I was not alone in my troubles and that there was hope for a sinner like me. I attended reconciliation that weekend and felt a new sense of peace. I also did something I never thought I would do, join a CRHP giving team. Those six months were a blessing in my life as I came to know, love, and respect all the men on my giving team. Those blessings continued in March of 2013 when I joined several other men in Morristown, Tennessee to present CRHP for the very first time to 19 men at St. Patrick’s Catholic Church.

Reconciliation made me want to be a better husband to Elissa. To help with that, Elissa and I attended a marriage encounter weekend in May 2012. If you have not gone to one, I highly recommend it. We learned so much about each other, improved our communication, and renewed our commitment to each other. During that weekend, we promised each other that we would try couples prayer. Neither of us had much experience with spontaneous prayers said aloud. I am happy to say that we have prayed together for a year now and it continues to bring us closer to each other and to God.

Reconciliation made me want to be a better father to my girls. Dr. Meg Meeker, in her book, “Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters” wrote, “Our daughters need the support that only fathers can provide—and if you are willing to guide your daughter, to stand between her and a toxic culture, to take her to a healthier place, your rewards will be unmatched…The only way you will alienate your daughter in the long-term is by losing her respect, failing to lead, or failing to protect her. If you don’t provide for her needs, she will find someone else who will.”

In the summer of 2012, I started date night with Daddy for the girls. Each month, one of my daughters picks an activity for just the two of us. I have taken them to baseball games, fancy dinners at the Golden Lamb, and putt-putt golfing at the Web on Cincinnati-Dayton Road. What we do together isn’t really the point. What is important to the girls is that they get one-on-one time with their father. I do this to try to demonstrate what love is to my girls so that as they get older they do not seek love from others in inappropriate ways.

Reconciliation made me want to be an active participant at our parish. I did that by becoming a lector last year. It has helped me focus on God’s word and set a leadership example to my wife and daughters. One benefit I got from lectoring is that on August 26, 2012, I got to read Ephesians 5 to the congregation. God spoke to me in August 2010 through that passage, urging me to serve my family by leading them to Him. I read it from the heart because it has had such a strong and lasting impact on my marriage.

I am still a sinner, always will be, but with the sacrament of reconciliation and God’s grace, I can now confidently, and without hypocrisy, lead my family in our spiritual life. I thank Him every day for another opportunity to do His will.

If you have avoided this sacrament, I encourage you to step out in faith and step into the confessional. You will not regret it.