Today, we celebrate the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul. As I meditated on today’s Scripture, I had a deja vu feeling I had been there before. Looking back, I discovered I’d offered a reflection four years ago today, and decided it was worth sharing again.
We are all called to proclaim the Gospel. How we do that begins with each of us asking the question:
What Shall I Do, Lord?
On this Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul we hear St. Paul ask, “What shall I do, Lord?”, after he is blinded on his way to Damascus to arrest Christians. His question is proof of his instant conversion to follow Christ.
It’s a good question for each ofus to ask every day, as well, if we desire to follow Christ and grow in holiness. There’s no better way to begin one’s day than through meditation asking the Lord to reveal His will for us. It’s our job, then, to listen and make a resolution to go do it.
“Heavenly Father, through St. Paul and the other Apostles, the faith was spread throughout the world. As I celebrate his conversion today, I pray that I may follow his witness in at least my little part of the world. Amen.”
(From the Archives: What Shall I Do, Lord?, was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)
I have the great pleasure and honor to post a reflection from a dear friend, Marian Rose Varisco, from Bryan, Texas. Marian Rose and I have become close friends over the last six years in our association with the Catholic Spiritual Mentorship Program. Marian Rose’s reflection exemplifies her deep interior life based on meditative prayer, listening to the Word of God in Scripture, and resolving daily to grow in virtue. She offers this very personal reflection in hopes that it may help other souls desire and seek interior freedom. If it appeals to you, I know she would appreciate hearing from you in a comment. Thank you and God bless!
We Have Entered Into Passion-tide, by Marian Rose Varisco
In yesterday’s Gospel, John 11:1-45, Jesus said to roll away the stone from Lazarus’ tomb. In today’s Gospel, John 8:1-11, we see the embarrassed Pharisees backing down from casting the stones they intended to use to kill the adulterous woman. What is Jesus trying to tell me through these stones?
I believe He desires to show me areas of my heart which are broken and wounded. I believe the stones represent areas where I am lacking in self-knowledge, areas which only the Holy Spirit can reveal to me.
Am I willing to sit, like the adulterous woman, in the dirt with Jesus, in my brokenness and hear Him say to me, “Go and sin no more”? Where am I casting stones, like the Pharisees, in my thoughts, words and actions? Am I willing to drop the “stones” I can so easily cast? Jesus is inviting the adulterous woman, the Pharisees, and each one of us, to accept His invitation for real conversion!
Where am I acting out of my wounds, becoming tied hand and foot like Lazarus, placing a stone over my heart, and living in a tomb? Am I willing to allow myself to hear Jesus weeping at the truth that parts of my heart are behind a stone? Do I hear Jesus say to me, “Come out!”, knowing His desire is for me to have a life of interior freedom, not a life where I am bound in burial clothes?
These last two weeks of Lent are an opportunity to prepare our hearts more fully to be in His Presence. Today I read in Finding Christ in the World, an Ignatius Retreat, that when Jesus entered into the Father’s Presence He had a sinless self-concentration. The sentence concluded with the words, “…and you do not”. Those words really pierced!
“Jesus, I ask you to stir Your Holy Spirit within me so that I may easily drop my stones and allow You to roll away any stone covering my heart. Freed from these stones, through the Grace received in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, may I be truly present to Your Presence with a sinless self-concentration. Amen.”
(We Have Entered Into Passion-tide was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)
(In my first try to send this there was an error with the links. Let’s try this again.)
In my last post, Road Trip Reflections: Battles are Won from Within, I mentioned that I’d driven to my folks in southeast Missouri on Sunday on my way to San Antonio, Texas. By the time I returned home this last Sunday night I’d made stops to visit family in New Braunfels and San Antonio, Texas, Lake Charles and Thibodaux, Louisiana, and Memphis, Tennessee for a total of about 56 hours of windshield time.
Can you tell I like to drive? There’s just something about being on the road and away from everything else. It might seem like escapism but, if so, I’m escaping to a place of solitude. And, most of the miles are driven in silence. Author Henri J.M. Nouwen, writing on silence, solitude and prayer said something along the lines of, “Solitude is not being alone, but being alone with God. Silence is not not speaking, but listening to God. Together, they call us to prayer”. My time behind the wheel is a welcome opportunity to reconnect, to converse with God, to look at my life, and analyze if I’m living the life He would have me live.
But, occasionally I do listen to music or podcasts while driving. And, my music is often anything from Jerry Jeff Walker. His last album, It’s About Time, is one of my favorites. The second song on the album is California Song, a beautiful tune Walker wrote about wondering where life would have led him had he not met his wife. I was listening to this and my thoughts began to go down that same road, except to wonder where I’d be if I had not let God into my life. The more I thought about it the more I thought I could write my own song to that tune. So, I did. And, I thought I’d share it with you here. (It’s okay, you can sing along, I won’t tell anyone).
I Remember the Time When – Lyrics by Jerry Robinson
I remember the time when I put work ahead of family I was running hard but, Lord, I wasn't free. I was chasing the pipeline, Living hotel to hotel, The pay was good but not so good for me.One day I hit the bottom
Stressed, confused and lonely
I knew I couldn't live my life that way.
I retreated to a church pew,
Kneeled down before You,
I bowed my head and there began to pray
Chorus:
And I fell in love with You, Lord,
You made my life so special,
You taught me how to love the way You do.
You gave my life new meaning,
With my wife, my friends, and children,
I'm grateful for the love I found in You.I remember the time when
I wanted nothing to do with You, Lord
I was in control and knew what was best for me.
I never stopped to question,
Why I wasn't happy,
I was blinded by my pride and couldn't see.And I fell in love with You, Lord,
You made my life so special,
You taught me how to love the way You do.
You gave my life new meaning,
With my wife, my friends, and children,
I'm grateful for the love I found in You.
Bridge
And, I know You had a plan, Lord,
But I was just too stubborn,
You were there when I had no place to go.
Now each night before I sleep
I hate to think where I might be
Had I passed the chance to open up that door.I remember the time when
Promotions were what I worked for,
I thought they'd bring a better way to live.
But, now I trust in You, Lord,
You'll always be there for me,
'Cause there's more to life than what the world can give.And I fell in love with You, Lord,
You made my life so special,
You taught me how to love the way You do.
You gave my life new meaning
With my wife, my friends, and children,
I'm grateful for the love I found in You.
“Good and gracious, God, thank You! Just thank You! Amen.”
(Road Trip Reflections: I Remember the Time When… was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)
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)
Reflections of a Lay Catholic 