Thoughts on Holy Week

During Holy Week, the holiest of all weeks, Christians are confronted with the suffering and death of a Christ who was crucified. How do we imagine the death of Jesus?

My own imagining of the death of Jesus was transformed about 15 years ago when, while living in Madrid, I had the opportunity for the first time to visit the family castle of the great Jesuit missionary St. Francis Xavier in the Spanish region called Navarre.  In a small chapel within the castle there is a crucifix, probably dating from the 13th century.  (Xavier himself lived from 1506-1552.)  On that cross, the suffering of Jesus is clear: Jesus is stripped, arms outstretched, head crowned with thorns and, of course, he is nailed to the wood.  But his face is unusual.  Rather than pictured as wracked with pain, he is depicted as peaceful and serene.

That sculpture is known as “the smiling Christ.”  Perhaps that seems shocking or even blasphemous; however, it seems to me that it points to a deep insight.

We may never be called upon to suffer and die as did Jesus Christ or the Christian martyrs.  Yet the liturgies of Holy Week remind us that the Cross is the only way to life.  For those who are faithful, Good Friday leads to Easter Sunday.  The smiling Christ points to a loving Father, who at the moment of deepest suffering reaches out in love to accept the life and work of his Beloved Son.  Love triumphs over death.

The Christian life does not promise us freedom from suffering, but reveals a more significant truth... it is through suffering that we are saved.  And, as Paul reminds us in his letter to the Romans, nothing can separate us from the love of God that comes to us in Christ, not trial, not distress, not persecution, not death. 

May the many “faces” of Christ which we observe during this holiest of weeks, lead us to the full joy and peace which came to be his own and which is meant to be ours as well because of what he has done for us. 

Fr. Frank Reale, S.J.

Thoughts on the cross

 

John 8:21–30

Friends, in today’s Gospel, Jesus predicts his death on the cross. We are meant to see on that cross not simply a violent display, but rather our own ugliness. What brought Jesus to the cross? Stupidity, anger, mistrust, institutional injustice, betrayal of a friend, denial, unspeakable cruelty, scapegoating, fear, etc. In other words, all of our dysfunction is revealed on that cross.  So far so awful. But we can’t stop telling the story at this point. Dante and every other spiritual master knew that the only way up is down. When we live in convenient darkness, unaware of our sins, we will never make spiritual progress. So we need the light, however painful it is. But then we can begin to rise.  On the cross of Jesus, we meet our own sin. But we also meet the divine mercy that has taken that sin upon himself in order to swallow it up. We have found, in that cross, the way up. We want to hold up this thing that was considered too horrible to look at. We want to embrace and kiss the very source of our pain. Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on sin

 

John 7:40–53

Friends, we see in today’s Gospel how Jesus’ preaching caused division. Some hearers believed him, but others wanted to arrest him. The life, preaching, and mission of Jesus are predicated upon the assumption that all is not well with us, that we stand in need of a renovation of vision, attitude, and behavior. A few decades ago, the book I’m OK—You’re OK appeared. Its title, and the attitude that it embodies, are inimical to Christianity.  The fact of sin is so often overlooked today. Look, no one has ever savored being accused of sin, but especially in our culture now there is an allergy to admitting personal fault.  A salvation religion makes no sense if all is basically fine with us, if all we need is a little sprucing up around the edges. Christian saints are those who can bear the awful revelation that sin is not simply an abstraction or something that other people wrestle with, but a power that lurks and works in them. When we lose sight of sin, we lose sight of Christianity, which is a salvation religion. Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on justice

God is just; God is merciful.

 

The Gospel for the 5^th Sunday of Lent takes place in Jerusalem, in the temple where Jesus had been teaching. In front of the eager crowds listening to Jesus, his enemies bring forward a woman caught in adultery, the penalty for which was death by stoning.  These opponents want to use the occasion to embarrass Jesus, since he had the well-deserved reputation of proclaiming God’s mercy toward sinners. The trap is clear.  If Jesus takes the side of the adulterous woman, he is open to the charge of ignoring God’s law and God’s justice.  If he insists on following the Law exactly, his reputation as a prophet of God’s mercy becomes questionable.

 

In response, Jesus, wise and merciful, devises a way to get the woman out of the situation, saving her life and letting her begin over again.  In doing so, he emphasizes the mercy of God, but he also upholds the justice of God. He does not reject the biblical commandment against adultery. We don’t know what Jesus was writing on the ground, but we do know that Jesus gives an unexpected answer to his enemies, and that response suggests a totally different way of looking at the situation.  He delivers a sharp challenge, “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.”  His words have the effect of turning the accusers’ attention back on themselves, making them realize that they too are sinners. In his parting words to the woman, Jesus again manifests both mercy and justice.  He first says to her, “Neither do I condemn you,” upholding the mercy of God.  Then he adds, “From now on do not sin anymore.”

 

Jesus knows what sin is, and he does not shrink from calling certain actions “sins.”  He recognizes that some actions are inappropriate and offensive both to the justice of God and to the betterment of human beings.  He forgives the sinner but does not excuse or explain away the sin.  Thus, Jesus upholds the justice of God.

 

At this point in Lent, we may need to recognize and experience both God’s justice and God’s mercy.  By confessing our sinfulness and determining to avoid sin, we bear witness to the justice of God.  By accepting the forgiveness of our sins and by determining to forgive those who have offended us, we bear witness to God’s mercy.

Fr. Frank Reale, S.J.

Thoughts on the Beatitudes

 

Jesus' Self-Portrait

“Blessed are the poor,” he said. Jesus is poor, not in control, but marginal in his society. What good can come from Nazareth? “Blessed are the gentle,” he said. Jesus does not break the bruised reed. He always cares for the little ones. “Blessed are those who mourn,” he said. Jesus does not hide his grief, but lets his tears flow when his friend dies and when he foresees the destruction of his beloved Jerusalem. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice,” he said. Jesus doesn't hesitate to criticize injustice and to defend the hungry, the dying, and the lepers. “Blessed are the merciful,” he said. Jesus doesn't always call for revenge but heals always and everywhere. “Blessed are the pure in heart,” he said. Jesus remains focused only on what is necessary and does not allow his attention to be divided by many distractions. “Blessed are the peacemakers,” he said. Jesus does not stress differences, but reconciles people as brothers and sisters in one family. “Blessed are those who are persecuted,” he said. Jesus does not expect success and popularity, but knows that rejections and abandonment will make him suffer. The Beatitudes give us Jesus' self-portrait. It is the portrait of a powerless God.

“Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them.”   - Matthew 5: 1, 2

Thoughts on spiritual healing

 

John 5:1–16

Friends, in today’s Gospel, Jesus heals a man who was physically ill for thirty-eight years. I want to make an observation about another manifestation of Christ’s power: his spiritual healing. The Gospels are filled with accounts of Jesus’ healing encounters with those whose spiritual energies are unable to flow. Much of Jesus’ ministry consisted in teaching people how to see (the kingdom of God), how to hear (the voice of the Spirit), how to walk (thereby overcoming the paralysis of the heart), how to be free of themselves so as to discover God. It is interesting that Jesus was referred to in the early Church as the Savior (soter in Greek and salvator in Latin). Both terms speak of the one who brings healing. The “soul” is that still point at the heart of every person, that deepest center, that point of encounter with the transcendent yet incarnate mystery of God. When the soul is healthy, it is in a living relationship with God; it is firmly rooted in the soil of meaning and is the deepest center of the person. Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on healing and faith

 

John 4:43–54

Friends, our Gospel today tells of Jesus healing a royal official’s son. The official asks him to heal his son, who is near death. Jesus says to him, “Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will not believe.” But the royal official persists, and Jesus tells him his son will live. The man believes Jesus, and his son recovers. Theologian Paul Tillich said that “faith” is the most misunderstood word in the religious vocabulary. And this is a tragedy, for faith stands at the very heart of the program; it is the sine qua non of the Christian thing. What is it? The opening line of Hebrews 11 has the right definition: “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” Faith is a straining ahead toward those things that are, at best, dimly glimpsed. But notice, please, that it is not a craven, hand-wringing, unsure business. It is confident and full of conviction. Think of the great figures of faith, from Abraham to John Paul II: they are anything but shaky, indefinite, questioning people. Like the royal official, they are clear, focused, assured. Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on fear

 

A Whole New Way of Being

Is it possible in the midst of this fear-provoking world to live in the house of love and listen to the questions raised by the Lord of love? Or are we so accustomed to living in fear that we have become deaf to the voice that says: “Do not be afraid”? This reassuring voice, which repeats over and over again: “Do not be afraid, have no fear” is the voice we most need to hear….. “Do not be afraid, do not be afraid, do not be afraid.” The voice uttering these words sounds all through history as the voice of God's holy messengers, be they angels or saints. It is the voice that announces a whole new way of being, a being in the house of love, the house of the Lord.

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”   - Deuteronomy 31: 6

Thoughts on the Annunciation

 

Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord

Luke 1:26–38

Friends, in today’s Gospel, the angel Gabriel appears to Mary and announces that she will conceive the Messiah. Mary, understandably surprised, asks, “How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?” to which the angel replies, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.”  The virginity of the mother of Christ is fitting for a number of reasons. First, it indicates, as clearly as possible, that God is involved in the coming to be of Jesus. Though human cooperation, at both the physical and moral level, is required, the Incarnation would not have happened without a gracious divine initiative.  Further, it signals that the Incarnation involves not simply a revolution in the moral and spiritual order but an entirely new creation. Just as Adam, on the biblical telling, is made through the direct causality of God, so the New Adam is made de novo, and not in the ordinary course.  Finally, the virginity of Mary is a sign of the purity and completeness of her devotion to God, making her a fit vessel for the divine Messiah. She becomes mother in the physical order, though she is given utterly over to God; she is, as classical Christian piety would have it, spouse of the Holy Spirit. All of this, one might argue, is summed up in the greeting that the angel gives Mary at the Annunciation, the most sublime offered to any human being in the biblical tradition: kecharitomene, “full of grace.” Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on Spiritual Fruit

 

Luke 13:1–9

Friends, in today’s Gospel, Jesus tells the parable of the fig tree that the owner cursed because it bore no fruit. On a deeper level, we may understand it to mean that the Lord expects us to bear spiritual fruit. The fruit of the Spirit is the universal, all-embracing consequence of the Spirit’s presence in us. All people who live in the Spirit should manifest these qualities. The word “fruit” is especially good in this context.  In Psalm 1 we find this comparison: “They are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither.” The Spirit is this stream; when we are planted near it, we blossom. Well, what are these fruits of the Holy Spirit? In the fifth chapter of Galatians, Paul enumerates them: “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” When discerning whether the Spirit is living in you, in determining whether you are walking the right path, these are wonderful criteria. Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on death and dying

                                                                  Our Mortality

   We always begin the Lenten season with the distribution of ashes. The priest traces a cross of ash on our foreheads with the words, "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return." We are invited to come face to face with the fact that we will die. That can scare us! As the comedian said, " I'm not afraid to die; I just don't want to be there when it happens." For many years as a younger man and priest I was afraid of dying because I envisioned it as coming before God and having to account for all of my sins. I was sure that I didn't deserve mercy and expected only just punishment.

   

After I receive the Lord in the Eucharist I always pray the Soul of Christ and I have been struck by the last line,

"At the hour of my death call me and bid me come to You that with Your saints I may praise You forever." I now envision my death as waking to see Jesus stretching out his hand to me and saying, "C' mon, Ralph, let's go home."

   I have been changed by that prayer and Jesus' parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-24). The son seriously insulted his father in asking for his share of the father's estate. It was saying, "I wish you were dead." The father let's him go and the son wastes the money on selfish pleasures. I picture the father going out every day and sitting under a tree along the road waiting for his son to return. And when he does, the father runs out and meets him with a bearhug and a kiss. There's no judging, no shaming, no questions about the money; there's only love and forgiveness and reinstatement as son with new clothes, sandals and the family ring and the announcement of a huge party. I think that would be worth dying for!

Fr. Ralph Huse, S.J.

More thoughts on relationships

   We come to know who we are through our relationships with others: children, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, friends, classmates, spouses. We grow by spending time together, sharing our thoughts and feelings, just being together and present to each other. We talk and listen. Ignatius encourages us to grow in our relationship with Abba Father and His Son, our Lord and brother in their Spirit by entering into colloquy with Them. He describes it "as one friend speaks to another". In prayer we give voice to our relationship with God; we thank Him for our life and all of His blessings, His love, compassion and mercy for us. We tell Him of our love for Him and ask that our love may grow and extend out to all in our lives.



   In Sunday's Gospel Luke describes Jesus' transfiguration. He takes his three friends and goes up the mountain to pray and while in prayer he is seen as he truly is: fully human and fully divine. Prayer changes us too; we experience ourselves to be God's beloved children. We are freed, healed, strengthened, forgiven and loved. God speaks to us through the beauty of His created world, His scriptures, His community of the Church, all of our loved ones. During this Lenten season let us make a little more time to speak with and listen to our God.

Fr. Ralph Huse, S.J.

Thoughts on Saint Joseph

 

Solemnity of Saint Joseph, Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Matthew 1:16, 18–21, 24a (or Luke 2:41–51a)

Friends, today’s Gospel centers on the intriguing figure of Joseph. Joseph is one of the most beloved of the saints, featured in countless works of art and prominent in the devotional lives of many. We know almost nothing about him, yet some very powerful spiritual themes emerge in the accounts of Joseph. He had become betrothed to Mary, and this union had been blessed by God. And then he finds that his betrothed is pregnant. This must have been an emotional maelstrom for him. And, at a deeper level, it is a spiritual crisis. What does God want him to do? Then the angel appears to him in a dream and tells him, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home.” He realizes at that moment that these puzzling events are part of a much greater plan of God’s. What appears to be a disaster from his perspective is meaningful from God’s perspective. Joseph was willing to cooperate with the divine plan, though he in no way knew its contours or deepest purpose. Like Mary at the Annunciation, he trusted and let himself be led. Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on brokenness

 

The Upside-down Kingdom

The Kingdom is where everything is turned upside down. Those who are marginal, those considered not respectable, are suddenly proclaimed as the people who are called to the Kingdom. The part of us that is weak, broken, or poor suddenly becomes the place where something new can begin. Jesus says, “Be in touch with your brokenness. Be in touch with your sinfulness. Turn to God because the Kingdom is close at hand. If you are ready to listen from your brokenness then something new can come forth in you.”

“But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”   - Matthew 6: 33

Thoughts on relationships

 

   We always begin the Lenten season with the distribution of ashes. The priest traces a cross of ash on our foreheads with the words, "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return." We are invited to come face to face with the fact that we will die. That can scare us! As the comedian said, " I'm not afraid to die; I just don't want to be there when it happens." For many years as a younger man and priest I was afraid of dying because I envisioned it as coming before God and having to account for all of my sins. I was sure that I didn't deserve mercy and expected only just punishment.

   

After I receive the Lord in the Eucharist I always pray the Soul of Christ and I have been struck by the last line,

"At the hour of my death call me and bid me come to You that with Your saints I may praise You forever." I now envision my death as waking to see Jesus stretching out his hand to me and saying, "C' mon, Ralph, let's go home."

   I have been changed by that prayer and Jesus' parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-24). The son seriously insulted his father in asking for his share of the father's estate. It was saying, "I wish you were dead." The father let's him go and the son wastes the money on selfish pleasures. I picture the father going out every day and sitting under a tree along the road waiting for his son to return. And when he does, the father runs out and meets him with a bearhug and a kiss. There's no judging, no shaming, no questions about the money; there's only love and forgiveness and reinstatement as son with new clothes, sandals and the family ring and the announcement of a huge party. I think that would be worth dying for!

Fr. Ralph Huse, S.J.

Thoughts on The Lord's Prayer

 

First Week of Lent

Matthew 6:7–15

Friends, today’s Gospel gives us the Our Father. It asks that God’s will be done “on earth as it is in heaven,” but biblical cosmology sees these two realms as interpenetrating fields of force. Heaven, the arena of God and the angels, touches upon and calls out to earth, the arena of humans, animals, plants, and planets. Salvation, therefore, is a matter of the meeting of heaven and earth, so that God might reign as thoroughly here below as he does on high. Jesus’ great prayer, which is constantly on the lips of Christians, is distinctively Jewish in inspiration: “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” This is decidedly not a prayer that we might escape from the earth, but rather that earth and heaven might come together. The Lord’s Prayer raises to a new level what the prophet Isaiah anticipated: “The earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.” The first Christians saw the Resurrection of Jesus as the commencement of the process by which earth and heaven were being reconciled. They appreciated the risen Christ as the one who would bring the justice of heaven to this world. Bishop Robert Barron

More thoughts on temptation

 

First Sunday of Lent

Luke 4:1–13

Friends, in our Gospel for the First Sunday of Lent, Luke gives us the story of the temptation in the desert. At every point in the Gospels, we are meant to identify with Jesus. God became man that man might become God. We participate in him and thereby learn what a godly life is like. Jesus has just been baptized; he has just learned his deepest identity and mission. And now he confronts—as we all must—the great temptations. What precisely is entailed in being the beloved Son of God? First, the tempter urges him to use his divine power to satisfy his bodily desires, which Jesus dismisses with a word. Having failed at his first attempt, the devil shifts to perhaps the greatest of the temptations: power. Power is extremely seductive. Many would gladly eschew material things or attention or fame in order to get it. Jesus’ great answer in Matthew’s account of this story is “Away with you, Satan!” To seek power is to serve Satan—it is stated that bluntly. Finally, the devil plays a subtler game—he tempts Jesus to manipulate his Father, encouraging him to jump from the temple and let angels save him. It is the temptation faced by Adam and Eve in the garden: deciding how and when God will act. Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on conversion

 

Saturday after Ash Wednesday

Luke 5:27–32

Friends, in today’s Gospel, Jesus tells Matthew, “Follow me.” The call of Jesus addresses the mind, but it is meant to move through the mind into the body, and through the body into the whole of one’s life, into the most practical of moves and decisions. “Follow me” has the sense of “apprentice to me” or “walk as I walk; think as I think; choose as I choose.” Discipleship entails an entire reworking of the self according to the pattern and manner of Jesus.  Upon hearing the address of the Lord, the tax collector, we are told, “got up and followed him.” The Greek word behind “got up” is anastas, the same word used to describe the resurrection (anastasis) of Jesus from the dead. Following Jesus is indeed a kind of resurrection from the dead, since it involves the transition from a lower form of life to a higher, from a preoccupation with the temporary goods of this world to an immersion in the goodness of God.  Those who have undergone a profound conversion tend to speak of their former life as a kind of illusion, something not entirely real. Thus Paul can say, “it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me”; Thomas Merton can speak of the “false self” that has given way to the authentic self; and, perhaps most movingly, the father of the prodigal son can say, “This brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.”  Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on temptation

Jesus Is Tempted

At his baptism Jesus hears his Father's voice, "You are My beloved Son." He is then led by the Spirit into the desert to be tempted by the devil. The temptations begin "If you are the Son of God, ..." They are temptations to his identity, his self-understanding, his mission. They are tempting because they are three different ways to fulfill his mission without his death on the cross. The devil says, Feed the people and they will follow you, cure the sick and the possessed and they will follow you. Jesus refuses to buy their loyalty; he wants them to believe and love him and everyone else. He feeds and cures out of compassion for their hunger and suffering, not as bribery.

   In the Spiritual Exercises Ignatius calls the devil "the father of lies". He always tempts us by his lie that this choice, this decision will make us happy, satisfied, fulfilled, admired, important, etc. We know from experience that it doesn't. Let us ask the grace to recognize and resist the lies and always turn to the Lord for strength in our weakness.

Fr. Ralph Huse, S.J.

Thoughts on anxiety

 

Not Worrying About the Future

For us the future is often a source of anxiety and fear. We have all kinds of questions: What if my children get sick, I lose my job, my wife or husband leaves me, or a war breaks out? Our fears pull us away from the present and extinguish the Spirit in us. When we believe that God is with us always through the Spirit, we can let the future emerge out of the present. When we really believe that God is with us and that we are already now breathing his Spirit, we don't have to worry about the future. We don't have to worry about what might happen next. We can start trusting that if we fully live the life in the Spirit, the future will unfold from the present as we travel through life.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”   - Philippians 4: 6 - 7