One of my memories as a pre-teen kid in the late sixties is of playing records (vinyl LPs) on my parent’s console stereo. These stereos were large pieces of furniture with a sliding top, a record player on one side, an AM/FM radio in the middle and a well for storing albums on the other side.
My folks listened primarily to crooners popular at the time, one of which was Jack Jones. In 1966, Jones recorded and released a popular song, The Impossible Dream. My folks had that record and it was spun on that state of the art Hi-Fi quite often. It was a good sing-a-long song that you could really get into. I can still remember most of the lyrics:
To dream the impossible dreamTo fight the unbeatable foe
To bear with unbearable sorrow
To run where the brave dare not go
To right the unrightable wrong
To be better by far than you are
To try when your arms are too weary
To reach the unreachable star
This is my quest, to follow that star
No matter how hopeless, no matter how far
To be willing to give when there’s no more to give
To be willing to die so that honor and justice may live
And I know if I’ll only be true to this glorious quest
That my heart will lie peaceful and calm when I’m laid to my rest
And the world will be better for this
That one man scorned and covered with scars
Still strove with his last ounce of courage
To reach the unreachable star
The song encourages you to follow your dreams even when they seem unachievable, to persevere and never give up, and to do what is right in the face of adversity. This dream, the ultimate goal, is the unreachable star.
This memory came to mind as I was meditating on the Epiphany of the Lord, which we celebrate today, in remembrance of the day the Three Kings reached Bethlehem and gazed upon the infant Jesus. Three wise men, astronomers who saw the star, had the grace to interpret its meaning and the gumption to follow it. They had no idea of where the star would lead them but they knew they were called to follow it.
They came from afar and their journey had to be long and arduous. I’m sure they encountered many dangers on their trek. They weren’t the only people who saw the star. But, they were the only ones who put their hearts and minds to the task of following it. They probably faced much ridicule to undertake such a crazy quest, one that had no foreseeable promise at the other end. But, they had hope for something magnificently good when they reached their destination.
I doubt that the Impossible Dream was written with much, if any, thought given to its relevance to this Christian tradition of ours. But it suits it to a tee – with one exception. Our dream is not impossible to achieve. It may seem that way at times when we are struggling with our sin, with difficult relationships, and periods of dryness in our prayer lives. Our quest is not hopeless – Jesus, our Star, has promised us that we will reach him if we persevere by living lives of virtue. Sometimes it feels as though we are marching through Hell, but our Heavenly cause is to grow in faith. Our faith tells us that if we stay true to our Lord, our souls will rest peacefully with Him in heaven after our time on earth is over. And, finally, because we don’t give up, we will be better people, better disciples, better spouses, parents, children and friends, and we will make the world a better place.
Follow The Star! Persevere. You may get scorned and scarred along the way, but strive with every ounce of courage you have. Like the Magi who gazed upon Jesus with unimaginable admiration, you will, too.
(Follow The Star! was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)
I have had the great fortune to spend this week at the Savior Pastoral Center in Kansas City, Kansas attending the Catholic Spiritual Mentorship Program as an alumni staff member. As always, it has been an absolutely awesome week! I received a text this evening from my spiritual director back home in Ohio asking me how my week is going and that he is praying for me. I responded that, once again, it has been an amazing experience in an amazing place with amazing people and I still have three days left! I added my thoughts about why it is that way, “It’s 100 people all seeking the same thing – holiness and the desire to help other men and women to do the same. It’s the spiritual friendship that is developed from that common desire. It’s communion with God and with each other! I wish you could be here, too.”
His response: “Amen! The Lord’s prerogative! His words at the Last Supper: ‘I pray for them, that they may be one…me in them, I in You, and You in Me, that we may all be one!’”
Did I tell you I love my spiritual director?
I wish each and every one of you could be here! We receive so many graces and feel the presence of Christ in so many ways, especially through our interaction with the students and staff.
Yesterday I posted Recognizing Miracles: How You Can Resurrect the Dead in which I suggested that the dead or lukewarm spiritual lives of people we know can be resurrected by our witness to the presence of God in our lives. I want to practice what I preach by passing on to you a special moment from yesterday.
Wednesday was the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, a feast that was first celebrated in Rome before the end of the 7th century. It commemorates the recovery of that portion of the Holy Cross which was preserved at Jerusalem, and which had fallen into the hands of the Persians. It was recovered and brought back to Jerusalem in the year 629.
At mass yesterday morning in the chapel we sang the hymn Lift High the Cross. The song’s refrain goes:
“Lift high the cross, the love of Christ proclaim
’Til all the world adore his sacred name.”
The cross, that instrument of death which the Romans utilized to put fear in anyone who might think to counter their authority. The cross, upon which Jesus died for our sins so that we might have eternal life. The cross that, because of His resurrection, became a symbol of victory to all believers and, ironically, was used by Christians to thumb their noses at Roman persecution.
As I sang those words I thought how it explained our mission perfectly, to proclaim the love of Christ so that the world will adore Him.
Later in the day we were gathered in the chapel for Adoration and Reconciliation. At the end of the Holy Hour I lingered for a few minutes as the others processed out. When I bowed to take my leave, I looked up at the crucifix behind the altar and froze in wonder. I took this photo so that I could share it with you.
The shadow behind Jesus on the cross, which isn’t visible most of the day, struck me as an image of God lifting the cross high as if to say, “Here is my only Son Who gave His life for you! Adore Him and proclaim His sacred name!” Can you see it?
This is how God works in your life when you are open to receiving His love and reassurance that He is with you at all times! You see and feel His presence in so many and unexpected ways.
Ask our Lord to open your heart so that you may readily feel His presence, too.
I would love to hear of how you’ve seen or felt God working in your life lately. Please feel free to share by adding a comment. Thank you and God bless!
“Thank you, Jesus, for allowing me to feel Your presence in my life. ‘I adore You, O Christ, and I bless You, for by Your Holy Cross You have redeemed the world’. Amen.”
(Lift High the Cross was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)
Jesus, the Divine Physician – St. James Catholic Church, Duluth, MN
In today’s Gospel, Luke 6:12-19, Luke tells of the great multitude of people who sought out Jesus to be healed of their diseases and to be cured of the torment of unclean spirits. Luke doesn’t elaborate on how this great multitude of people learned about Jesus’ healing. But, I suspect it happened by word of mouth, by those who heralded the healing and curing power of Jesus to their family and friends.
Reflecting on this passage, I related to the poor tormented souls as I recalled a time when I was overwhelmed by stress and the exigencies of life which brought so much unhappiness. I wasn’t looking for Jesus to cure me, but I let friends who knew I needed Him carry me to His emergency room, an ER with zero wait time!
So, I ask myself today, have I been one of those friends who, after being cured, or having witnessed His healing, made the effort to tell others who need Him? I can say “Yes”, but reservedly. This blog is one way I get the word out. I evangelize through spiritually mentoring other men to develop their interior lives and their relationships with Jesus. I share my faith in small groups with other men who already have a strong faith. But, do I reach out effectively and proclaim the Good News to those who have not heard it or are indifferent to it? Is my faith contagious? I think I can do better.
How about you? Is your faith contagious? In what ways do you tell others about Jesus and His saving grace? How might you do better?
“Lord Jesus, I thank You for Your constant presence in my life. Lord, open my heart to new ways to bring others to You, and, through Your grace, help me to realize the virtue of fortitude I need to be outgoing in bringing Your Word to others. Help me, Jesus, to live my life in a way that others want some of what I have. Amen.”
(Is Your Faith Contagious? was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)
One of the most significant moments in Simon Peter’s relationship with Jesus was the third time Jesus revealed Himself to them after His resurrection when He asked Peter three times, “Simon, son of John, do you love Me?” Peter answered three times, “Yes, Lord, You know that I love You!”. And three times Jesus asked Peter to take care of His flock. (Jn 21:15-17)
Peter obviously took that request to heart and remembered it for the rest of his life. In yesterday’s first scripture reading from 1 Pt 5:1-4, Peter writes to the Presbyters, the teachers of the faith, to tend to and be examples to the “flock of God”.
This passage struck me in a number of ways. First, I recalled the many sentiments that were offered from comments at our deanery’s recent Synod on Synodality meeting. Although those present were a mere microcosm of our Church, there seemed to be a general opinion that one of the problems in our Church today is that our bishops and priests are not adequately “feeding their sheep” or “tending their flock”.
Secondly, it brought to mind that we are all called to be teachers of the faith in one way or another – through our vocations as a parent or friend, through our occupations, and our volunteerism in various ministries. We only have to recall Jesus’ words to His disciples when He was faced with feeding the five thousand, “Give them some food yourselves” (Lk 9:13), to understand that He wants us to join with Him in His mission to save souls.
Today more than ever, our Lord needs us all, you and me, to help feed and tend His flock. Too many are not being fed and are straying to what looks like “greener” pasture in today’s world of materialism, idealism and relativism. Once they leap that fence they become easy prey for the wolves. We need to fertilize our “Catholic” pasture so that the grazing sates their appetites.
How do we tend to the flock? I think the first step is to set aside the idea that our faith is something that is done to us, that it’s someone else’s responsibility. With too few priests and deacons to go around, the laity needs to take some ownership in their personal faith formation and that of those in their “pasture”. We need to become better catechized, grow deeper in our relationships with Christ through prayer, and live virtuous lives that are examples of holiness to others.
Every person has an opportunity to be a witness to someone who is hungering for the Bread of Life and thirsting for the Living Water. We need to remember that Jesus gave us one mission, to make disciples of all nations, and we need to make that a priority in our lives. We don’t have to become missionaries or monks, we just need to live simply and find synergies in our everyday lives that will edify our families, friends and acquaintances.
We need to remember that the basic building block of our Church is not the parish, but rather our homes, the Domestic Church. If we want to rebuild our Church we need to recall how the Apostles and the first disciples lived after Christ’s death. Theirs was a two-pronged approach: to stick together and build and protect their community, and to draw others into it by teaching them the truth of the Gospel. We can do that with our families by practicing our faith with our children. We can live hospitality and invite people into our homes for friendship and good conversation which may lead to opportunities to pray together.
We need to look for opportunities to be charitable to those in need by practicing the Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy.
We need to not be afraid to practice our faith in our work places as employers and employees; at school as educators and students; in athletics as fellow athletes and coaches; and where we volunteer.
Our faith ought to be personal but it should never be private. We need to be bold and leave others with no doubt about our love for Jesus.
Put more succinctly, as laity, we need to step up our game, take ownership and not depend on just our clergy to feed the flock. We need to survey our “pasture” of influence and determine who is grazing mindlessly in that pasture and on the verge of wandering off. We need to provide them with “green grass” that will nourish and satisfy their souls.
What is your pasture? Who is in your flock? How can you feed and tend to them with the love of Christ?
“Dear Jesus, thank you for providing priests and friends who, through their gentle love and care, have shepherded me in my faith life. I pray for the grace to do the same for those whom I mentor and lead to you through spiritual friendship. Amen.”
(Feed Your Flock was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)
As she wept at His tomb, Mary of Magdela encountered Jesus but didn’t recognize Him until He spoke to her compassionately, saying, “Mary, stop holding on to Me”. Then, obeying her teacher, Mary told the disciples with pure joy, “I have seen the Lord!”
I can’t see Jesus face to face in this life. But, I know He’s present every moment of my day. He sends His love to me through Holy Scripture and through my wife, children, friends and many of life’s circumstances. I need to better recognize Him and live such that others may recognize Him in me.
“Lord Jesus, today I resolve to recognize the kindness of others as Your love poured out through them. And, I resolve to be the instrument through whom your love and mercy may touch others. Amen.”
(Recognizing Jesus was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)
The Dream of St. Joseph, by Anton Raphael Mengs, 1774
Today’s Gospel is from Matthew 1:18-25, the story leading up to the birth of Jesus. Every year I am reminded about St. Joseph and what may have been going through his heart and mind when he learned that his betrothed was carrying a child that wasn’t his. My reminder is Jason Gray’s song, Forgiveness is a Miracle (A Song for Joseph) from his 2012 album Christmas Stories: Repeat the Sounding Joy, which I dig out of my CD case every year at the beginning of Advent.
Note: Much of this post is excerpted from the original, A Man of Mercy, from 5 December 2013. I am posting it here under a different title because since then we have garnered many new followers who may not have seen that post. Whether this is your first time to read this or your second, my hope is that it encourages you to find a way to grow in love and mercy, and in preparing your heart to be offered as a gift to our Lord on His birthday.
For me, I continue to be struck with each listening by the profound example that Gray paints for us of the mercy extended by Joseph to Mary. He gives us some insight into the divine wisdom of God. Both the Gospel and the song help me to remember God’s will for me every day is always about love.
As I delved into the song, I discovered that 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.
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.
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 Forgiveness is the miracle The miracle A miracle will save the world Forgiveness is the miracle Forgiveness is the miracle 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
(St. Joseph:A Man of Mercy was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)
As the two Marys rushed fearfully and joyfully to tell the disciples what they had seen and heard, they met Jesus on the way. Jesus told them, “Do not be afraid. Go tell my brothers to go to Galilee and there they will see me.”
After the intensity of Holy Week – the exhausting emotion of reflecting on Christ’s passion, death, and resurrection – I need to meet Jesus again. And soon. I need to go to Galilee. My Galilee is that place of solitude and silence, where I can spend time with Him in meditative prayer.
Since yesterday’s Gospel was from Matthew 1:18-25, the story of the birth of Jesus, I meant to post this yesterday. But, I got busy with other stuff and forgot. Every year during Advent I think about St. Joseph and what was going through his heart and mind when he learned that his betrothed was carrying a child that wasn’t his. And, I’m reminded of Jason Gray’s song Forgiveness is a Miracle (A Song for Joseph) (link to YouTube music video) in which he paints for us a profound example of mercy that was offered by Joseph, and gives us some insight into the divine wisdom of God. Both the Gospel and the song help me to remember God’s will for me every day is always about love. I hope you enjoy the song, that it encourages you to find a way to grow in love and mercy, 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 and Christmas 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.
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.
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 Forgiveness is the miracle The miracle A miracle will save the world Forgiveness is the miracle Forgiveness is the miracle 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
(A Man of Mercy: (Reposted from the Archives) was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)
In His parable of the tenants of the vineyard, Jesus tells the Pharisees (Mk 12:10) that, although He is the stone they’ve rejected, He is still the Cornerstone, the Son of God.
I know I believe Him. But, how strong is my faith, really? When I pray do I ask Jesus to help me set my cornerstone, or do I ask Jesus to come and be my Cornerstone? Do I ask Jesus to come walk with me where I want to go, or do I ask Jesus to lead me and be patient while I follow Him?
(Daily 100: The Cornerstone was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)
One day last week a friend of mine, the father of a Marine, shared a link to a video of Marines undergoing Helicopter Underwater Evacuation Training (HUET). Although I was never a Marine, the video brought back many memories of similar training.
For many years I managed the construction, operations and maintenance of a natural gas pipeline system in the Gulf of Mexico. We employed helicopters to travel to offshore platforms and, because there was always the risk of an aircraft going down, we trained on how to react to such an event.
Helicopters used in offshore service are equipped with floats designed to keep the aircraft upright in the event of a water landing. Unfortunately, these floats can fail to inflate or fail to stay inflated. If one float fails, the helicopter will list to that side, capsize and go inverted.
Our offshore survival training was conducted in a swimming pool using a mock helicopter cockpit made for two, four or six passengers. Trainees were strapped in and, because an aircraft may go down at night, we were blindfolded. Then, the cockpit was suddenly inverted and the fun began.
As water rushed in, the person nearest the door opened it, and everyone began unfastening their harnesses. Amidst the rush of water and flailing arms and legs, we each, then, tried to find our way out before inflating our personal floatation devices. (Inflating your PFD before egressing could pin you to the floor of the aircraft.)
The natural tendency is to panic in these situations. When you fear drowning and can’t breathe, see, or hear; can’t find the latch to your harness; and you’re getting kicked and clawed by others trying to save their own lives, it can get hairy. The worst part about being blindfolded and inverted underwater, however, is the total disorientation. Up is now down, down is up, and left and right are reversed. It’s this disorientation, this confusion, that causes people to lose their lives.
The secret to surviving is to find a fixed point of reference onto which you can grab with your off hand before the aircraft starts to list, keeping your predominant hand free to release your harness; and to make a mental note of where exit doors are in relation to that reference point. With respect to the aircraft, this point of reference doesn’t change regardless of the aircraft’s orientation. Taking a moment to mentally orient yourself and visualize what you need to do, will probably save your life.
Yesterday morning at church, I was gazing at the stained glass window of Jesus in the garden of Gethsamane that is behind our altar and this recollection of survival training came sneaking into my consciousness, distracting me. I tried to push it away. But, before I could, I realized that the image in the window was Jesus praying to His point of reference, God the Father, for strength, courage and direction.
Then, I thought about when the exigencies of life turn my world upside down; when crises leave me confused and disoriented; and when heartbreak leaves me feeling lost in the dark and unsure of which way to go, I know Christ is my unchanging reference point.
When our culture tries its best to convince me that my happiness depends on the material things I accumulate, having Jesus as my reference point reminds me that, although I could lose everything tomorrow, He will never leave me.
When the world tells me that the only way to get ahead is to always put myself first regardless of the impact it may have on others, I can, instead, look to Him as an example of unselfishness and compassion.
When I’m told that right and wrong are matters of personal preference, and I should feel ashamed if my opinion differs from that of another, I can rely on Him for the truth.
I know when my ship goes down, as it someday will, it won’t be easy. But, I’ll be ready because I train every day, not in a mock cockpit in a swimming pool, but in daily prayer, meditating on God’s Word, and listening to His message – my point of reference.
How do you train?
“Lord Jesus, You are the Light and the Truth. You are unchanging. Lord, You give me the grace to always turn to you, especially when I’m in danger of drowning. When I reach for your hand in the dark, I know you will be there to pull me up. Amen.”
(A Point of Reference was first published on the blog Reflections of a Lay Catholic)