Take Up Your Cross

18 Tuesday Jul 2017

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Bible, Bible Reflections, Faith, Hope

Tags

Faith, God, Jesus, Joy, Matthew 10:38, Resurrection, Suffering, Take Up Your Cross

“…and whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me.” – Mt 10:38

As I read this passage from this morning’s (Monday’s) Gospel I asked myself the questions, “What does Jesus mean by ‘take up your cross’?”, and, “What is my cross?”. It was like deja vu. I’ve asked myself those two questions a gazillion times and never took the time to reflect upon them. But, this time the last four words of that verse, “is not worthy of me”, jumped out at me and I decided I really ought to know the answers.

I’ve been thinking about this most of the day. Here’s what my simple brain came up with:

In the first sense, the cross is a sign of suffering. It’s where Jesus suffered and died and it’s where many were crucified by the Romans before and after Him. Our “cross” is that which causes us to suffer.

We all suffer in some way. It may come in the form of real physical or emotional pain. Perhaps our suffering is a physical handicap, the loss of a loved one, the experience of an injustice, or the loss of a job and the inability to make ends meet.

Or, maybe, our suffering is one of inconvenience – the perceived pain of not getting our way, of being “put out” by circumstances beyond our control.

By “taking up our cross”, I think Jesus is telling us in a round-about way that, no matter what our suffering is, we need to deal with it. Life isn’t a bowl of cherries. In this life there will always be a certain amount of suffering. Not until we find ourselves in heaven will we live a peaceful and painless eternity.

Taking up our cross, then, means to accept that which causes us to suffer. It means we need to take ownership and, in doing so, we need to accept our suffering without complaining, moaning and groaning. But, I think there are two kinds of complaining.

The first, the good complaining, is like groaning that your legs hurt after you’ve just completed the fastest mile you’ve ever run. It’s a hurt that is expected, and one you’re glad to experience because it means you’ve grown/advanced/improved. It’s a hurt for which you’re grateful. There’s no cross to be taken up in this case.

The second, the bad kind of complaining, is when we express our misery because of an unfortunate circumstance: we couldn’t get our grass mowed this week because it rained and then our lawn mower wouldn’t start. The irony is that, if we think about it, we should be grateful for the time we have, while we’re not mowing the lawn, to do other things, like improving relationships, that often get pushed to the back burner. In this regard, I think about the verse from 1 Thessalonians 5:18, “In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Jesus Christ.” By doing this, we’re elevating the circumstance to the first level, the good complaint.

With respect to this second type of complaining, taking up our cross is not making another person, intentionally or unintentionally, feel bad because of our situation. This is where taking ownership comes into play. It’s ours and we can’t make it someone else’s. Asking someone to pray for us and hoping for their compassion is fine. But, expecting someone to commiserate with us and personally feel bad over our personal issue isn’t part of taking up our cross.

On the other hand, there is one person whom we can ask to bear our suffering with us – Jesus. He tells us throughout the Gospels that He is there for us, that we can trust in and turn our troubles over to Him. He will make our burdens light.

Taking up our cross means that, in accepting our circumstances, we realize it is in the past, it’s behind us, and we can’t do anything about what’s already happened. We need to let it die.

It’s now that the second meaning of taking up our cross and following after Jesus comes into play. After we’ve let that which causes our suffering to die, we need to start living again. That’s when we not only take up our cross but we begin to follow after Jesus. It’s a resurrection for us.

Jesus died and, upon His resurrection, went to a better place. By taking up our cross and following Him, we, too, can find a kind of resurrection, a better place. We begin to open ourselves up to finding joy in the every day gifts which God provides. In opening up, we begin to accept His love for us, a love that is independent of our circumstances. Then, ultimately, our resurrection is complete when we begin to love others unselfishly in spite of our personal suffering. In fact, we no longer view it as suffering but, instead, as a unique gift.

You know what? I’m not going to expound on what my cross is. That’s because I can see that I have many crosses to bear. After going through this exercise, I realize my crosses can be different from one day to the next, or even one hour to the next. Some crosses are heavier than others. Some I accept quicker than others. I think the important thing is that I have figured this out for myself and can begin to see my suffering, both the real and the inconvenient, as crosses to bear.

And, I resolve to pray to our Lord, Jesus, for His help in lightening the load of each of those crosses.

Won’t you take some time to think about your crosses and how you take them up in following Him?

“Lord Jesus, I know that You know that I know what my crosses are. And, I know that You’re just waiting for me to turn to You, to place my trust in You to lighten my load. I know You will because You have so many times before. I pray for an increase in faith that it is Your will that is done, not mine. Lord, thank You for all your many blessings, even those which I didn’t recognize as blessings at the time. Amen.”

(Take Up Your Cross was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)
©2013-2017 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.

Who Do You Say That I Am?

30 Friday Jun 2017

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Bible Reflections, Faith, Prayer, Scripture

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

C.S. Lewis, Faith, Jesus, Matthew Kelly, Mental Prayer, Mere Christianity, Mt 16:13-19, Prayer, The Jesus Question

“Who do you say that I am?” That’s the question Jesus asked the Apostles in yesterday’s Gospel (Mt 16:13-19). As I reflected on what God’s Word was saying to me in this passage, I made a resolution to articulate my own answer and understand its weight.

Fundamentally, that is the question Jesus asks all of us. Who do we say that He is?

A few short years ago, in the infancy of my faith formation, a friend read to me a passage from C. S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity. It profoundly opened my mind:

“I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: ‘I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept His claim to be God.’ That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic…or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice (emphasis added). Either this man was, and is, the Son of God; or else a madman or something worse….But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.”

“You must make your choice.” Author Matthew Kelly explains in The Jesus Question, “not making a choice is making a choice.” There’s no in-between.

So, who do I say that Jesus is? To begin, I have to mimic Simon, soon to be named Peter, when he answered collectively for the Apostles: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”

Jesus is God made man, the second person of the Trinity. He came into this world to suffer and die for me (and you), to offer me salvation for my sins, to give me a fresh start and the opportunity to live with Him in heaven for all of eternity.

Jesus is my Guiding Light, my North Star. He shows me the path I need to take in this earthly life to find my way to God, a God whose love for me is never ending and Who, after creating me, desires that I return to Him.

After Simon answered Jesus, Jesus replied, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father.” I can relate to that.

The Heavenly Father offered His gift of faith to me in a manner I could neither ignore nor refuse, and, through it, revealed to me His love manifested in His Son, Jesus. It was a no-brainer that happened in a nanosecond. There was no learning involved and no teaching required from others to make me believe. It was after my conversion that other men and women, true “flesh and blood”, began teaching me about this thing called Christianity. And, it was only because I had accepted God’s gift of faith that I was able to accept the full revelation of what I was learning.

My faith formation has progressed such that I no longer have to rely on others to show me the way, although I still learn from them daily. I have found a better way – a way that isn’t just about learning, but about building a relationship with God. It’s called prayer. By talking to God through my verbal prayer, and by listening to God through mental prayer and meditating on the Sacred Scriptures, He and I are building an intimate relationship where He reveals Himself to me and I, by revealing myself to him, learn about myself that which He already knows.

It’s a beautiful thing!

When was the last time you stopped to answer Jesus’ question of you, “Who do you say that I am?” Maybe it’s time.

“Heavenly Father, I love and worship You. I give You thanks for Your Grace which has bent my free will towards you. Thank you, Jesus, for leading me to the Father. Thank you, Holy Spirit, for opening my mind and heart to the Word of God that continues to transform my life. Amen.”

(Who Do You Say That I Am? was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)
©2013-2017 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.

Do You Love Me?

04 Sunday Jun 2017

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Bible Reflections, Faith, Grace and Mercy

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Commitment, Faith, John 21:15-19, Love, Sin

It’s Sunday morning and I’m still ruminating over Friday’s Gospel (John 21:15-19) and what it said to me. It hit me so profoundly that I wanted to let the message sink in so I will never forget it.

When Jesus appeared to the Eleven the third time after being raised from the dead, He ate a breakfast of bread and fish with them. Right afterwards, He pulled Simon Peter aside and asked, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” He didn’t ask only once. No, He asked three times. And, I think, by doing so, Jesus gave Peter the opportunity to redeem himself for having denied Jesus three times before His death. I’m sure that is what was on Peter’s mind as he answered, “Yes, Lord, You know that I love You.”

But, I don’t think Jesus was trying to rub it in. He wasn’t concerned about the depth of Peter’s love for Him, rather, he was looking for commitment from the one He was appointing to lead His church.

Commitment. That’s what He asks of me, too.

It’s taken two days for that to sink in. Jesus asks me in every waking moment, “Jerry, do you love Me?” Especially every time I am on the verge of sinning. I realize now that, at those times when I’m aware of the sin I am committing, my cognizance is actually Jesus asking me, “Do you love Me?” I’m ashamed that, by my actions, I all too often respond otherwise.

Jesus asks of us only two main things to be Holy: to love God, and to love our neighbors. Every sin contradicts one or both of those commandments. Each time an action, a spoken word, or a disrespectful thought, which damages a relationship with another person, damages my relationship with the Lord. That’s not conducive to getting me to heaven.

“Jesus, You know that I love You. I resolve today to make that evident in all that I do. I know I need the help of Your Sanctifying Grace to override my occasional wavering commitment. And, when I fail, as I will, I need Your loving Mercy and Actual Grace to let me try again. Amen.”

(Do You Love Me? was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)
©2013-2017 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.

You Are Mine

23 Tuesday May 2017

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Bible Reflections, Confirmation, Fear

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

Confirmation, Faith, Holy Spirit, John 14:15-21, Prayer, silence, the Advocate

I’ve been trying to improve my prayer life by making more time to read sacred scripture and meditate on what the Word of God is trying to tell me in relation to my life. I have to admit there are many days when, no matter how hard I try, I simply cannot make a connection. But, at other times, His message is loud and clear. Or, at least, I think it is.

Such was the case this last Sunday. The Gospel reading was from John 14:15-21, regarding the “Advocate”, the Holy Spirit:

“And I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Advocate to be with you always, the Spirit of truth, which the world cannot accept because it neither sees nor knows it. But, you know it, because it remains with you, and will be in you….On that day you will realize that I am in my Father and you are in me and I in you.”

As I listened to this, I thought, “This is one of the problems in our faith today. People forget that Jesus is with us always by the Holy Spirit that He placed within us. It’s like we forget the whole point of our Sacrament of Confirmation. We remember the meaning of Baptism, we experience Communion every week, and, we are reminded, reluctantly for many, of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. But, we forget that the Holy Spirit was poured out upon us at our Confirmation. Imagine the difference we could make if we only remembered this!”

A few minutes later, I joined the congregation of the Holy Family Catholic Church in Shell Knob, Missouri in singing one of my favorite hymns, You Are Mine. The first verse and refrain simply reinforced my earlier thought:

“I will come to you in the silence, I will lift you from all your fears,
“You will hear my voice, I claim you as my choice,
“Be still and know I am here.
“Do not be afraid, I am with you. I have called you each by name.
“Come and follow me, I will bring you home,  “I love you and you are mine.”

Fast forward to last night, Monday evening. I arrived in Kansas City, Kansas to attend my first, in-residence week of formation, study and practice in the Spiritual Mentorship Program offered by the Apostles of the Interior Life, and the School of Faith of the Archdiocese of Kansas City. I’ve been studying for and looking forward to this week since January. As I knelt in the chapel after night prayers, I felt my nervousness grow. I was afraid – afraid that I won’t have what it takes to become a good spiritual mentor, and afraid that my faith was too new and poorly grounded. I feared not being able to remember everything I will need to remember, and, consequently, be inadequate in the example I set for others.

I prayed for God to open my mind and my heart to what I will be learning this week. I prayed that my detailed and analytical mind won’t blind me from understanding the concepts which will be presented (not seeing the forest for the trees has always been a struggle for me). And, I prayed for the ability to internalize the message so that I will easily be able to relate it to others. I simply prayed, “God, help me do this!”

As I took a breather from my verbal prayer, I became distracted and lost my train of thought. Normally, I get frustrated with distractions while I pray, but this time the distraction – the tune for You Are Mine that was running through my head – was a blessing. As I tried to remember the words to the song, not only it but the Gospel and my thoughts about it from Sunday’s mass came flooding back to me. And, in a moment of humiliation in front of the Lord, I saw that, through my self-righteousness, I was the one guilty of not remembering the point of my own Confirmation. I realized I was asking God to help me do this and help me do that, as if I was in this alone and the burden was all on me.

In that moment I lost the slump in my posture and knelt more upright. I felt a surge of adrenaline. My prayer changed from fear and despair to anticipation and new hope! I prayed, “Oh God, it is You Who led me to discern this opportunity and Who brought me here. I know that, through Your Holy Spirit, You are with me and You won’t leave me hanging. You have ‘come to me in silence’ and You have lifted my fears; I am not afraid because You are with me. I trust in You. I love You and I am Yours.”

“Oh, loving and forgiving God, You teach me in many ways, often uncomfortable ways. You know what I need and You set the stage in advance so that when the moment comes I may learn from the experience. Thank you, Holy Spirit, for living within me. Help me to always feel your presence. Amen.”

(You Are Mine was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)
©2013-2017 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.

Raising Our Eyes to Jesus

12 Sunday Mar 2017

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Faith

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

2 Timothy 1:8-10, Discipleship, Faith, Genesis 12:1-4, God, Jesus, Matthew 17:1-9

As Catholics, we come to church because we love the Lord. We come to receive the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist. We come to profess our faith in the saving Grace of Jesus and life everlasting. But, I suspect, as in any religious congregation, there are those who come for other reasons: because it’s what they’ve always done on Sunday mornings; because they feel they need to set the example for their children; or for fear of what might happen in their after-life if they don’t. And, there are many more Catholics who simply no longer attend church either because they no longer believe or have justified and allowed worldly things to keep them away.

Today is a day we have been waiting for in our parish for several months: we begin our mission for conversion and renewal (for any Protestants reading this, think, “revival”). Over the next four days, we will have a guest speaker, Deacon Ralph Poyo of New Evangelization Ministries, who will provide insights into what keeps us from becoming the disciples – followers of the Lord – that we are called to be; and how to improve our relationship with the Lord by recognizing those things that block our path. The hope of the mission is to bring all parishioners, those strong in their faith, the luke warm and the fallen away, into a closer relationship with the Lord.

And, so, as I prepared for mass this morning by reviewing the scripture readings for the day, I couldn’t help but sense that they were cued up by God especially for our purpose.

In the first reading, from Genesis 12:1-4, we hear God telling Abram to “¹Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk and from your father’s house to a land that I will show you.” God goes on to tell Abram how he will be blessed, how from him a ‘great nation’ will be made, and how his name will be made great. Unspoken is the reality that this would be a tough journey through desert with uncertainty of what lies ahead. Abram didn’t say, “No, I don’t think so, Lord! That doesn’t sound like fun. What about all the things I will have to give up? What about my other commitments? No, Lord, I kind of like it right here where I am.” Instead, without blinking or thinking twice, “⁴Abram went as the Lord directed him.”

Then, in the second reading, 2 Timothy 1:8-10, we hear St. Paul reminding his beloved Timothy: “⁸Bear your share of hardship for the gospel with the strength that comes from God. ⁹He saved us and called us to a holy life, not according to our works but according to his own design and the grace bestowed on us in Christ Jesus before time began.” Here St. Paul is telling us that we are all called to live a holy life; and that it’s not always easy to follow the Lord. We have to use the strength the Lord gives us to say “no” to our will (the things that keep us away), and “yes” to His will that will bring us closer to Him.

Finally, the Gospel reading was Matthew’s account of the transfiguration of Jesus, Matthew 17:1-9. After Peter, James and John saw Moses and Elijah appear with Jesus on the mountain, “⁵a bright cloud cast a shadow over them” and, upon hearing God’s voice say, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.”, the Apostles fell prostrate to the ground. Jesus came to them and told them to, “⁷Rise, and do not be afraid.” Then, “⁸when the disciples raised their eyes, they saw no one else but Jesus alone.” With this last line I thought how wonderful it would be if it was that easy – each time we are fearful, each time we start to let our will take control – to raise our eyes and fix them on “no one else but Jesus alone.”

Unfortunately, we tell ourselves it isn’t that easy. It’s in our fallen nature to do so. But, through the Grace of God, we have been given the gift of faith which is all that we need to give us the courage to say no to the things that keep us from Him. Sometimes we just need help being shown the way.

Deacon Poyo, I hope your talks this week enlighten and inspire me, and everyone else in our parish, to build a better relationship with Jesus, and to help our brothers and sisters do the same.

“Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of Your faithful and kindle 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.”

(Raising Our Eyes to Jesus was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

©2013-2017 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.

Seeking Signs

14 Tuesday Feb 2017

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Faith

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

2 Cor 5:7, Faith, God, Jesus, Mark 8:11-13, Prayer, Scripture, Signs

Some days I simply don’t get a chance to read the daily scripture passages until the end of the day. Yesterday, like most Mondays, was this way. I got my morning prayers in before I arrived at work, but then the routine of meetings and conference calls began and lasted the rest of the day. Finally, at about ten o’clock, after a two hour drive and getting settled in my hotel room bed, I had time to read them.

Yesterday’s Gospel was from Mark 8:11-13: “The Pharisees came forward and began to argue with Jesus, seeking from him a sign from heaven to test him. He sighed from the depth of his spirit and said, ‘Why does this generation seek a sign? Amen, I say to you, no sign will be given to this generation.’ Then he left them, got into the boat again, and went off to the other shore.”

The last thing I remember before falling asleep was thinking about how the Pharisees were hell-bent on finding some way to get rid of Jesus so He would stop rocking their boat; and about how He didn’t fall to their trickery. He simply admonished them and sailed away. Shortly after four o’clock this morning, I awoke still thinking about this story, but, from a personal perspective.

In my state of half-sleep, I remembered a few years ago, before I became Catholic, or even Christian for that matter, how I would sometimes wonder about the presence of God and Jesus. I would ask, “God, if you’re really there, give me a sign so I will know for sure.” Of course, nothing happened. What I didn’t know then was that He doesn’t want us to depend on signs. He wants us to walk by faith, not by sight (2 Cor 5:7).

I remembered that weekend in April 2012 when I finally accepted God as real and Jesus as my Savior. I told my friend that I didn’t know if I believed or not because I didn’t know how to have faith. He told me to forget being so analytical and logical and just accept it. He said faith is a gift God is trying to give me through the Holy Spirit, that it was free for the taking and all I had to do was accept it. Later that night in the church, I prayed my first real heart-felt prayer, a prayer embedded with real hope. I believe I accepted, in that moment, His gift of faith because I immediately felt a sense of peace; and, not only were my prayers answered, but I began to see signs of His presence everywhere I looked.

Then, I began to think about times recently when my spiritual life has been a bit dry, when I didn’t feel I could see or feel His presence no matter what I did. I remember praying, “Come on, God, I know you’re there. Help me out here; I need to feel you with me right now.” And, then, of course, I ended up disappointed. I realized God’s not to blame; it’s me and my lack of faith.

Why does faith slip away from me? Why do I not have any trouble trusting my family and close friends but forget about God? Perhaps it’s because I’m still learning to walk by faith and not by sight. I can see and hear those people close to me; I have hard evidence that they come through for me; and they are connected to the worldly things which, unfortunately, occupy most of my time. The shame is that I know God works in my life, too; I’ve experienced it so many times. His generous blessings are tangible examples of His endless love. But, I am often blinded by the urgent, less important aspects of life and forget that He is there to lead me through those times. I am humbled that I am not nearly as faithful as I would like to believe.

Do you get preoccupied and fail to recognize the Lord’s presence in your life? How do you get your faith back on track?

“O, loving and gracious Lord, grant me the Grace to strengthen my faith in You. Help me to never forget that You are only ever one prayer of affirmation away, one whispered, ‘Jesus, I trust in You.’ And, help me, please, to always thirst for You as You do for me. Amen.”

(Seeking Signs was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

Finding Rest in the Desert

04 Saturday Feb 2017

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Renewal

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Adoration, Christ Renews His Parish, Cursillo, Desert, Faith, Friendship, God, Gospel of Mark, Hope, Jesus, Love, Mark 6:31, Mass, Peace, Prayer, silence, solitude, Thanksgiving, Ultreya

“[Jesus] said to them, ‘Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while.’” – Mark 6:31 NAB

In today’s Gospel, Jesus instructs His apostles to take a break from their travels and their mission of preaching repentance and healing of unclean spirits. Two by two, they have been separated and away from Jesus for quite some time. They are tired and dirty. They have healed many but have been rejected by many, also. They’re ready for some downtime and time to re-energize.

As I heard the lector read this verse from the Gospel of Mark this morning at mass, I reflected on my own experience and realized that Jesus, as always, hit the nail on the head. For me, it has always been when I have retreated to a “deserted” place for rest and reflection that I have, afterwards, found myself refreshed and renewed in my faith and closer to Jesus.

My first experience was five years ago when I attended a Christ Renews His Parish (CRHP) retreat weekend at our parish church. My decision to go on the retreat was based not on getting closer to Jesus or to increase my faith, for I wasn’t Catholic nor remotely religious, but to hide from the daily struggles of work, and trying, unsuccessfully for the most part, to bring some balance to my life. I also hoped to meet some men and make some new friends. I did meet many men and made many new friends – not just acquaintances but lifelong brothers. And, more importantly, I found God and the love of Christ. My life was transformed and it hasn’t been the same since. I became Catholic one year later.

Following that CRHP experience, I met regularly with some of those new friends on a regular basis in a quiet room at our church or at each other’s homes. They were special times, ones which would have required a natural disaster to keep me away. We talked about how we had seen God working in our lives, and we opened up and shared the difficulties we were trying to overcome. We chose scripture passages to read and discuss. We learned from each other and we encouraged each other and we formed brotherly bonds.

With pressures from work seeming to increase, I wanted more of this type of respite. I began attending Bible studies and other opportunities to learn and deepen my faith, including weekly Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. Along with spending time with my wife, these encounters were the things which brought me peace.

In wanting to learn more about my faith, I jumped at the invitation to attend a Cursillo weekend where I could again spend a restful few days in reflection and fellowship with other men. Like CRHP, it was a life changing experience. As a follow-up to Cursillo, monthly Ultreya meetings and weekly discussions of our prayer life, what we are doing to grow our faith, and what we are doing to bring others to Christ, keep me grounded and help direct my attention away from worldly strife.

Through these experiences, I have learned to take advantage of other opportunities for silence, solitude and time for prayer when I am away from my home field and friends. At those times, my “desert” becomes a rolling mountain stream, a peaceful perch overlooking a valley, holding a sleeping grandchild in my arms, or just about any place where I can marvel at His many miracles.

One of my favorite places to rest and listen to God – Rock Creek, west of Red Lodge, Montana.

I have probably read that verse from Mark several times but it never hit home until today. Before mass was over I took time to say a prayer of Thanksgiving for giving me the desire to want to find my own isolated “desert”, and to take time for rest and recharging by the best power source there is, Jesus Christ.

Where is your “desert”? Where do you go to find peace and quiet? Do you make the time to go? Do you go there with the intention of spending time with Jesus and letting him recharge you? You should! Go! Look for the opportunities. Attend a retreat such as Christ Renews His Parish or Cursillo. Schedule time to meet with faithful men and women from whom you can grow your faith and who will lift you up with encouragement. If this is new to you, signing up for a Bible study at your church is a good place to start. The important thing is to seek Him. Seek Him in a place that offers a measure of solitude and silence where you can listen to God, perhaps through others, and speak to Him in prayer. You will find Him and you’ll be glad you did.

“O, loving and gracious God, I give You thanks for arranging our first meeting where I learned of and felt Your immense love for me. Thank You for rewarding me with Your peace each and every time I have come back to You. Your love increases my faith, and my faith brings me hope for a life of eternity with You. Amen.”

(Finding Rest in the Desert was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)

From the Archives: A Man of Mercy

27 Sunday Nov 2016

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Advent, Christmas, Mercy

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Advent, Faith, Forgiveness is a Miracle, Jason Gray, Jesus, Joseph, Love, Man of Mercy, Mercy, Year of Mercy

With the Jubilee Year of Mercy ending last Sunday and the season of Advent beginning today, I thought I would resurrect this post from December of 2013. As we begin preparing ourselves for the birth of Jesus, the following perspective of what might have been going through Joseph’s mind and heart in the days before that blessed event serves perfectly to bridge the gap between the Year of Mercy and Advent. In his song Forgiveness is a Miracle (A Song for Joseph), Jason Gray paints for us a profound example of the mercy that was offered by Joseph, and, in the last verse, gives us insight into the divine wisdom of God.

When I originally posted this I did not include a link to the lyric video of the song. I am including it here Forgiveness is a Miracle (A Song for Joseph) so you can actually hear the song and feel the meaning within. I hope you enjoy it and that it helps you prepare your heart to be offered as a gift to our Lord on His birthday. Let me know what you think.

God bless you and may this be your best Advent ever!

A Man of Mercy (Reprinted from 5 December 2013)

About this time last year I was listening to a new CD I had purchased by my new favorite singer/songwriter, Jason Gray. The CD is called Christmas Stories: Repeat the Sounding Joy. One particular song on it, “Forgiveness Is A Miracle (A Song For Joseph)”, caught my attention because it was so different from any other Christmas song I had ever heard. Plus, its subject was something which I had never considered: what was going through Joseph’s mind and heart prior to, and during, his wife giving birth to not his son, but Jesus, the Son of God?

I discovered that Jason Gray had written an article for The Rabbit Room describing the story behind the song and he explores this difficult situation in which Joseph found himself. I have re-posted his article below and included a link to The Rabbit Room’s website. I hope you find it as thought provoking as I did.

http://www.rabbitroom.com/2012/10/the-story-behind-forgiveness-is-a-miracle/

The Story Behind “Forgiveness Is a Miracle”

by Jason Gray on October 16, 2012

As I approached writing songs for each of the characters in the Christmas story, I felt particularly protective of Joseph, who I think sometimes doesn’t get the attention he’s due. At the very least I know that I’ve been guilty of not really “seeing” him for the remarkable man that he was, and I wanted to amend that. I enlisted my friend Andy Gullahorn, one of the most masterful storytellers I know, to explore a particular moment in Joseph’s story with me.

Taking my cue from Frederick Buechner’s book, “Peculiar Treasures,” in which he breathes new life into biblical characters who have grown so familiar to us that we no longer experience them as real human beings, I hoped to recapture some of the humanity of the people in the Christmas narrative. It was also important to me to try and write songs that were relevant beyond the four weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas day. I wanted to tell timeless human stories, and with Joseph we have the makings of just that with a love triangle, a question of revenge or forgiveness, and the age old drama of fathers and sons.

As I read his part in the narrative, I found that more than just a foster parent without much to do (as he was often relegated to in my mind), Joseph is revealed as a man after God’s own heart. Faced not only with the news that his fiancée is pregnant, but also with her incredulous story of how it was God’s doing, Joseph’s character is tested and laid out for all of us to see. What will he do? Will he hurt the one who has hurt him? Will he forgive? This is his moment, and all of history waits and watches in wonder.

There are few things more painful than the betrayal and rejection by the one you love most, so we know it must have deeply wounded him—shattering the dreams he may have had of a future with the girl he loved. Pain is like a lightning bolt striking with a violent energy that can’t be held in the human heart for long. It looks for a way out. The way it usually passes through us is in the all too common progression of hurt turning into anger and then into vengeance. Unless the miracle of forgiveness takes place in a person’s heart to absorb it, the pain we experience will pass through us and be visited upon others.

There is debate as to whether it was within Joseph’s power to have her stoned—while Jewish custom might have allowed it, Roman rule did not. However, if not to her body, we know he still could have done violence to her reputation and her heart. But I believe that Joseph did the hard work of bringing his pain to God rather than letting it pass through him, and that God graced him with the miracle of forgiveness. The narrative tells us he was a “godly man” and that instead of doing her harm, “he decided to dismiss her quietly” so that she wouldn’t be publicly shamed. He took the full force of the blow and–acting as the husband he might have been–became a covering over her supposed sin.

It’s hard for us to experience the tension in Joseph’s story since, as the reader, we know from the start that she isn’t guilty of what he naturally supposes and that God is up to something beautiful that the world has never seen before. But to see Joseph for who he is, I have to remember that he couldn’t know these things in real time. It was only after he had given himself to the work of forgiveness that the angel appeared to him in a dream to tell him that what Mary had said was true after all, and that he should marry her.

It occurred to me that perhaps this is where Joseph’s heart was proven—if not to God who already knew his heart, then perhaps to himself. (I haven’t met a man yet who isn’t daunted by the responsibility of being a father, let alone a father to the Son of God. Maybe this was a test to reveal to Joseph what kind of man he could be.) In this moment he is found to be a man of mercy, which I imagine to be just the kind of man that God was looking for to be the earthly father of his son Jesus. In a way, we see that Joseph carries in his heart the same world changing power of forgiveness that Mary carried in her womb.

It’s also meaningful to me to think of how Joseph forgiving Mary is part of the story that leads to the birth of the savior in whom Joseph would find forgiveness for his own sins. Perhaps it’s the narrative form of Jesus’ teaching that as we forgive we find ourselves forgiven.

As we wrote the song, it was good to be reminded that forgiveness is a kind of miracle. I could be wrong, but I’m not sure that we can muster up forgiveness on our own. It seems to me to be a supernatural force of renewal that we participate in as we point our hearts toward it, pray for it, and make room for it in our lives, but that ultimately we receive it as a gift from God, in his due time.

Forgiveness Is A Miracle (A Song For Joseph)

Jason Gray / Andy Gullahorn

from Christmas Stories: Repeat the Sounding Joy

Love can make a soul come alive

Love can draw a dream out of the darkness

And blow every door open wide

But love can leave you broken hearted

Did she dare to look you in the eye

Did her betrayal leave you raging?

Did you let her see you cry

When she said the child was not your baby?

Pain can turn to anger then to vengeance

It happens time and again

Even in the best of men

It takes a miracle to save us

When love is like an open wound

There’s no way to stop the bleeding

Did you lose sleep over what to do?

Between what’s just and what brings healing

Pain can be a road to find compassion

When we don’t understand, and bring a better end

It takes a miracle to show us

Forgiveness is a miracle

A miracle

And a miracle can change your world

Forgiveness is a miracle

An angel in a dream spoke into your darkest night

So you trusted in the Lord and you took her as your wife

But the forgiveness that you gave would be given back to you

Because you carried in your heart what she was holding in her womb

Love was in a crowded barn

There you were beside her kneeling

You held it in your arms

As the miracle started breathing

Forgiveness is the miracle

The miracle

And a miracle will change your world

Forgiveness is the miracle

The miracle

A miracle will save the world

Forgiveness is the miracle

Blessed Joseph

Your heart is proven

And through you the Kingdom has come

For God delights in a man of mercy

And has found an earthly father for his son

(From the Archives: A Man of Mercy 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.

The Big Stuff

06 Sunday Nov 2016

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Faith

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Big Stuff, Body of Christ, Eucarist, Faith, Friendship, God, Grace, Jesus, Love, Marriage, Mass, Thanksgiving

I don’t know if it’s just the time of year, or the change in the weather, or some straggling ragweed still in the air, but I felt puny all last week. I decided to take Friday off and I made a 9:15 a.m. appointment to see my doctor. On Thursday night before bed I told my wife that I was looking forward to sleeping in an extra hour or two. Then she asked me if I would like to go to 7:30 a.m. mass with her, something I never get to do because of my work hours. I replied I would be glad to, but then thought to myself I need to change that “hour or two” of extra sleep to just one hour.

Melinda woke before me on Friday morning and was already down stairs when I rolled out of bed. We met up after I showered and dressed and, unlike every normal work day, I had a chance to give her a big hug and good morning kiss. I growled, “I love you”, in my broken voice that was about two octaves lower than normal. Melinda replied, “You don’t sound too good!”, to which I said, “I feel great, I got an extra hour of sleep and I’m getting to hug you this morning. My day is starting off fabulously!” She responded, “Boy, it just takes little stuff to get you feeling good.” I didn’t tell her but I thought, “No, darling, this isn’t little stuff. This is big stuff. This is why I decided I’m going to retire. These little moments of intimacy are the big reward. They’re what makes life worth living.”

We went to mass and got there a couple minutes late. I seldom get to go to weekday masses and always get a little confused with the slightly abbreviated version as compared to the usual Sunday mass. In one way I miss the hymns (the people around me probably didn’t miss my singing!) but then without them it gets me to the Celebration of the Eucharist that much quicker. Receiving Holy Communion is always the high point of my day. As I accepted the Blessed Sacrament I marveled at how that one little round disk, which just a few moments earlier was simply a wafer of bread, can, with its transformation, transform one’s whole life. And, then, with a glance towards the crucifix which hung above the altar, I thought, “That’s not just a little round wafer of bread, no, that’s BIG stuff! Bigger than BIG! It is truly the body of Christ!” Upon kneeling back at my pew I gave thanks to Jesus for the unity with Him, for His nourishing my spirit, for His forgiveness of my sins and for the grace to avoid sinning, and for giving me the grace to listen to the Holy Spirit and let it fill my heart with love. Yeah, that’s real big stuff. It’s what makes life worth living.

Later that afternoon, I had the opportunity to join a friend to talk about our faith. We meet weekly to share with each other how our prayer life has been going over the last week, what we’ve been doing to study and grow our faith, and what actions we have taken to spread the word of God or bring Christ to others. We’ve found that this weekly exercise helps us hold each other accountable so that we don’t get lazy in our faith. It only takes an hour. To some it may seem like small talk, but to me it’s that man to man time when we can be honest with each other and we know that we can trust the other to help keep us on the right path. More big stuff. And, more of what makes life worth living.

I love the big stuff. How about you? What’s your big stuff?

“Heavenly Father, thank you for opening my eyes to the big stuff in life and helping me decide to turn away from the things that have kept me from the big stuff. As I move into retirement I pray that I can always keep the big stuff the big stuff. But, Lord, I know I will lose focus from time to time and I pray you will gently bring me back. Amen.”

(The Big Stuff was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic.)

Peace Be With You

09 Sunday Oct 2016

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Discernment, Faith, Hope, Love, Prayer, Spirituality

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

1 Thesselonians 5:18, Authentic Life, Faith, God, Holiness, Hope, Jesus, John 14:27, Legitimate Needs, Love, Matthew Kelly, Peace, Prayer, Retirement, Sign of Peace, Spirituality

At the sign of peace during Mass on a Sunday morning a few months ago I smiled and uttered, “Peace be with you!” to those around me. As they did the same to me I thought to myself, “Thank you, but, actually, I’m not at peace. It’s more like turmoil. My life is incongruent with the life I would like to be leading.” I knew I was living what Henry David Thoreau called, “a life of quiet desperation.”

I was quick to blame the stress of my job, the expanding corporate bureaucracy, and a huge increase in travel away from home, for my discontent. In my 31 years of management with my employer I had never felt such disharmony.

peace-be-with-you-hotel-room-key-cards-2

Just a few of the hotel room key cards I’ve collected over the last two years.

I knew the real rub, however, was that my job demanded so much of my time that there were huge voids in my personal life. Voids I could no longer ignore: my health was suffering; my relationships weren’t thriving; I was doing very little to stimulate myself mentally; and, because of extensive work related travel, I struggled to find time to pray as I ought, and I desperately missed the fellowship and sharing of my faith with other men in my community.

Since becoming Christian, I have believed that God has placed me here for a purpose. Thus, I found myself praying often for guidance from the Holy Spirit to learn what God’s will is for me. A semblance of an answer came to me during an Adoration hour, not while I was striving to understand the future, but as I reflected on the past. I sensed His will for me up to this point in my life had been to provide for my wife and family. I thought I had done well but I counted the cost and estimated roughly 20 percent of my working life had been spent away from home and family. In that moment I knew one of the things He wanted me to do with the rest of my life was to be the disciple, husband, father, grandfather, son, brother, and friend He designed me to be. Clearly, my new purpose would be to pour my love into those relationships and grow them to a deeper level of intimacy.

I don’t think it was coincidence that shortly after this revelation I was reading a book by Matthew Kelly in which he wrote about becoming fully the person God created us to be and living the authentic life He created us to lead. Kelly talked about how living an authentic life helps us reach the essential purpose of our Christianity – Holiness. And, with respect to the physical, emotional, intellectual and spiritual “legitimate” needs God created in us he wrote, “When we hear these deepest desires calling us forth, we hear the voice of God.” I realized God was calling me to fill that void by fulfilling those needs.

But, I saw a catch. I knew I couldn’t give my all to His plan and perform my job as I should. That only left one alternative – retirement. And that was a scary thought. I’m not quite 60 years old. Retirement would mean not earning a paycheck every two weeks. It would mean purposefully living within my means and my means were nothing more than what I had saved.

I also feared falling into the trap of mistakenly fantasizing that my life would magically be better once I retire. Many retirees believe that spending a life of leisure on their boat, on the golf course, or taking exotic vacations, will bring them happiness. For some it might but, for most, pleasure seeking doesn’t bring lasting happiness. I didn’t want that to be me. I was happy to accept that my purpose would not be pleasure focused or to accumulate more stuff, but to seek God and find happiness by satisfying the essential needs He intended for me.

After more prayer and discussion with my wife, I concluded I needed to retire. I couldn’t ignore the Holy Spirit’s call to refocus my life. As for my financial wherewithal, I accepted that I would have to have faith that my needs would be met. But, just in case, and afraid of what I might discover, I finally decided to consult with a retirement planner. When his report came back I was pleasantly surprised to find that we should be able to live comfortably for the rest of our lives.

Having made up my mind, I only needed to tell my boss of my intention to retire. Because the driver for my decision to retire was stress induced unhappiness, I wasn’t sure what I would tell him, without sounding bitter and negative, if he asked why I decided to retire. As I thought about this during the drive to where we were meeting everything became perfectly clear. All the things that had kept me from being satisfied were simply steps in the process of God calling me to move on and to fulfill those God-given needs. In that instant I recalled 1 Thessalonians 5:18 (NAB), “In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus.” The bitterness I felt evaporated. I forgave everyone whom I had previously blamed for creating the stress in my life, as well as myself for my own personal contribution. And, instead of being negative, I praised God for the suffering that pushed me to hear His call.

Last Tuesday when I told my boss of my intention I felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I know the remaining days between now and the day I retire will be enjoyable and productive because I have a new purpose: to live a healthier, less stressful life; to grow emotionally by bringing more intimacy to my relationships; to help and serve others; to grow intellectually; and to grow spiritually by getting closer to Jesus, and having the time to apply the Gospels to my life every day.

I’m not sure what direction my life will go or exactly what I will do in retirement. But I’m sure it will be an adventure as God unveils new sources of happiness.

This morning at Mass during the sign of peace, when my brothers and sisters shook my hand and said, “Peace be with you!” I thought, “Thank you, by the Grace of God, it is.”

Peace be with you all.

“Heavenly Father, thank You for sending Your Holy Spirit to help me see and hear Your call. I sometimes wish, though, that You would make it just a little easier for me to do so. Amen.”

(Peace Be With You was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)