Thoughts on leadership

 

The Way Out is the Way In

From: The Wounded Healer: Ministry in Contemporary Society

Christian leadership is accomplished only through service. This service requires the willingness to enter into a situation, with all the human vulnerabilities…. This is a painful and self-denying experience, but an experience which can indeed lead man out of his prison of confusion and fear. Indeed, the paradox of Christian leadership is that the way out is the way in, that only by entering into communion with human suffering can relief be found.

Reflection Question: Who might need your service and willingness to enter into their suffering today?

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all consolation, who consoles us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to console those who are in any affliction. - 2 Corinthians 1:3–4

Henri Nouwen (1932–1996) was a priest, professor, and spiritual writer. He authored over 40 books on the spiritual life and spent his final years at L'Arche Daybreak, a community for people with intellectual disabilities. Drawing from his own journey of vulnerability and faith, he invites seekers into deeper intimacy with God, themselves, and others.

More Books by Henri Nouwen

Thoughts on faith

 

Twelfth Week in Ordinary Time

Matthew 8:5–17

Friends, in today’s Gospel, Jesus celebrates the trust of the centurion who asked him to heal his servant: “Amen, I say to you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith.” We can say with the centurion that the Lord is a rock, a stronghold, a firm place to stand. The God who is not one more shifting and indefinite creature but rather the ground of being itself is a power upon whom we can rely, a covenant-maker whose word we can trust. In his very freedom and sovereignty as our Creator, God is a parent in whose lap we can serenely find our rest. Undoubtedly, what has made religious belief such an indispensable part of human consciousness and behavior is just this assurance of safety that it brings. There is nothing in the cosmos that will not, finally, disappoint us. There is no place in the universe that will not, finally, be shaken. But God, the self-sufficient ground of existence itself, can be trusted not to disappoint and not to betray. “No storm can shake my inmost calm, while to that rock I’m clinging,” says the author of the hymn, witnessing ecstatically to this divine faithfulness. Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on discipleship

 

Once in a personal retreat, my retreat director made a stark statement that continues to haunt me: It is one thing to follow Christ’s call; it is quite another to accept his mission.

When St. Matthew narrated the call of the first disciples which we find in the Gospel selection for this weekend’s Mass, he emphasized the speed of their response. They were adventurous young men who only needed a nudge from God to leave behind all they knew and serve a man who drew crowds wherever he went.

The Gospel writer knew the compelling nature of Jesus’ call. At the start, a life of discipleship promises fulfillment, wisdom and grace, as well as potential honor and status. But, the inspiration of these dreams of doing great things for God can sometimes obscure the hard work and suffering inherent in discipleship. In his preaching this week, Jesus offers his disciples no such illusions.

Hostility to Jesus and his message had already begun. The debate over his ability to forgive sins had turned some faithful Jews against him. Now he had doubled down on his claims and was sending his disciples out to spread this same message throughout Judea and Galilee. It’s easy to imagine friends and family quietly begging the Twelve not to go; and, it is easy to imagine the disciples beginning to wonder what they had gotten themselves into. Jesus’ response is clear, “Whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”

The Twelve must have sensed they were passing a point of no return. Until now, they had learned from Jesus, but they had not yet risked themselves. Now, to continue their discipleship they had to preach his difficult message alone among strangers. By making his words their own, they were making themselves target for the hostility directed at Jesus. Those whose goal was to sit at Christ’s side in a restored kingdom of Israel must have been utterly bewildered.

Discipleship today requires the same self-abnegation. We need to speak Christ’s words in our own voice and actions. We have to pass the same point of no return. In doing so, we may confuse our families and maybe lose a few friends. The only people who might understand what we are doing are those who have undertaken the same mission themselves.

Is Christ asking you to leave something behind to follow him more truly?


Fr. Frank Reale, S.J.

Thoughts on criticism

 

Twelfth Week in Ordinary Time

Matthew 7:1–5

Friends, Jesus’s parable in today’s Gospel is one of the most psychologically and spiritually insightful remarks in the New Testament. Let’s face it: a favorite pastime of most human beings is criticism of others. We delight in pointing out the shortcomings, moral failings, and annoying tendencies of our neighbors. This is, of course, a function of pride and egotism: The more I put someone else down, the more elevated I feel. But it is also, oddly, a magnificent means of turning a mirror on ourselves, to see what usually remains unseen. Why, we ought to ask, do we find precisely this sin of others particularly annoying? Why does that trait or sin of a confrere especially gall us? Undoubtedly, Jesus implies, because it reminds us of a similar failing in ourselves. I remember a retreat director asking each of us to call to mind a person that we found hard to take and then to recount in detail the characteristics that made the person so obnoxious to us. Then he recommended that we go back to our room and ask God to forgive those same faults in ourselves. His words were as unnerving and as illuminating as these words of Jesus. Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on Father's Day

 

I want to wish a very happy Father’s Day to all the fathers, grandfathers, and spiritual fathers reading this right now. Watch my reflection here.

Fatherhood is one of the most profound and necessary callings in our world. As fathers, men become living signs of God’s own sacrificial love—providing, protecting, and guiding with a compassionate heart. “As a father has compassion for his children,” the psalmist proclaims, “so the Lord has compassion for those who fear him.”  In living out this calling, you walk in the footsteps of Saint Joseph, who looked after the Holy Family with such quiet and steady devotion. Fathers, never underestimate the influence you have; your commitment to your family and your faith is the foundation upon which the next generation stands. This year, I want to propose a special intention for your Father’s Day celebration. As you honor the men who have shaped your life, remember in your prayers the priests you’ve known throughout the years. These men have answered a call to spiritual fatherhood, becoming, as Fulton Sheen put it, a Jacob’s ladder connecting heaven and earth, serving as a bridge between human beings and God.  In a particular way, I invite you to pray for your own pastor—the man who shepherds your local parish family. Pray that he be strengthened in his ministry and find joy in his sacred calling. In Christ,

Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on missions

Having returned last week to “Ordinary Time” and to St. Matthew’s Gospel as the source of our Sunday Mass readings, we find Jesus trying to prepare his disciples for the missions that they themselves will be called to assume. Specifically in the Gospel for this Sunday, Jesus prepares them for the rejection and hostility they can expect if they embrace the mission he gives them. In doing so, he addresses their anxieties and fears about human opposition on the part of those who already have rejected Jesus’ message with great hostility.

The Twelve were understandably anxious about being sent out to preach on their own.

In response, Jesus commands two simple things: fear no one, and preach boldly. Of course, these are familiar themes throughout early Christian literature. Bold speakers may inspire fascination, but in an explosive environment like that of Roman-occupied Palestine, such fearless speech must have struck the Twelve as more imprudent than inspiring! They, like we, however, could draw inspiration from Jeremiah the prophet, whose story we also hear in the Sunday readings. His preaching aroused hostility, so much so that at one point he was imprisoned, tortured and left to die in a muddy well; he was delivered each time. He never stopped preaching, and history proved his words to be correct.

Matthew was writing for Christians of every age. The fearless, risky speech of Jeremiah and Jesus is both an example and a command to Christians in all times and places. Jesus trusted in his heavenly Father and had confidence in the truth of his own message. His love was greater than the world’s hate. We need to trust the same message. Love conquers all. You and I preach it less in words than in deeds, recognizing that the “cost” of our witness is sometimes the same insofar as we encounter cynicism, defensiveness and misunderstanding, if not blatant hostility. And yet, whenever you and I make ordinary, daily choices of love in response to whatever circumstances and opportunities each day brings, no matter how seemingly small, we are acknowledging that Christ is alive and at work in the world. We are the disciples on whom God relies to continue the Son’s mission as history unfolds.


Fr. Frank Reale, S.J.

Platinum Birthday

 

Last week I celebrated my birthday and my wife informed me that I was turning 63 years old and I was born in 1963.  She said there should be some kind of special name for this type of birthday, since it is so rare.  In recent years we have heard about folks, mostly children, celebrating their Golden Birthdays.  Golden Birthdays are when you are the same age as the day of the month that you were born, so for example, if you were born on the 17th day of May and you are turning 17, then that is your Golden Birthday.  Well, my Golden Birthday was in 1975 and we didn't celebrate Golden Birthdays back then, at least not where I lived, but now it seems to be a fairly common thing.  Well, we decided to check with ChatGPT and we were informed that when you are the same age as the year that you were born, that is called a Platinum Birthday.  Well, there you have it!

Thoughts on the Sacred Heart of Jesus

Sacred Heart

Each year on the Friday following the feast of Corpus Christi, before returning to “Ordinary Time,” the Church celebrates the Feast of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus.

Heart-language is powerful language. Simple phrases convey and capture meaning beyond verbal expression: a contrite heart, brave-hearted, with a heavy heart, heart- to-heart, a stony heart, a broken heart, cold-hearted, a divided heart, light-hearted, with one heart and mind, wearing one’s heart on one’s sleeve, hard-hearted, a passionate heart; cross my heart; know by heart; give my heart; heart filled with…; aching heart; clean heart. It’s rather amazing how dependent we are on heart-language to convey a great variety of human emotions and experiences.

I don’t know why I came at a young age to be fascinated by the image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. It probably has something to do with my high school days at St. Louis U. High, where the engaging Sacred Heart image was ubiquitous. Over the years, that familiar image, that devotion, has seeped more deeply into my own heart, shaping my devotional life and spirituality.

Perhaps on retreat at White House you have prayed before the Sacred Heart statue which resides to the south of Snyder Hall. Or, perhaps you are aware of other places, including in your own home, where the image has found a place of honor. It is not easy to precisely capture what the Sacred Heart image conveys. It does so “silently,” without words, not unlike the method through which my parents conveyed to their children their convictions about right and wrong, their experience of God, and their Catholic vision of life. But it does communicate. In the presence of the Sacred Heart, we know that we have a God who understands, who feels, who forgives, who speaks the words that we deeply long to hear, who loves with that kind of love that is all-encompassing and still relentlessly personal and unconditional.

It is that Jesus, that God, that I often address in prayer. Assessing the quality of my own heart, and recognizing how “mixed” it can be, I nonetheless want to offer it to a God who I trust will know exactly how to respond. Perhaps we can all beg for ourselves that same grace.


Fr. Frank Reale, S.J.

Thoughts on forgiveness

 

Memorial of Saint Barnabas, Apostle

Matthew 5:20–26

Friends, in today’s Gospel, Jesus commands us to be reconciled with one another. I want to say something about the role of forgiveness in repairing our broken relationships. When you are at worship and realize that you need to forgive someone (or be forgiven by someone), go and do it. Go get reconciled, then come back. It’s like a rule of physics. There is something hidden in the deep mystery of God, and I can’t fully explicate it. Somehow, if there is a lack of forgiveness in you, it blocks the movement of God in you. Perhaps it’s simply because God is love, and so whatever is opposed to love in us blocks the flow of God’s power and God’s life. One reason we do not forgive is that we feel that some injustice has been done to us, and we resent it. A good cure for this feeling is to kneel before the cross of Jesus. What do you see there? The innocent Son of God nailed to the cross—the ultimate injustice. What does he do? He forgives his persecutors. Meditate on that, and your sense of being treated unjustly will fade away. Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on community

 

Community Keeps the Flame of Hope Alive

From: Finding My Way Home: Pathways to Life and the Spirit

Christian community is the place where we keep the flame of hope alive among us and take it seriously so that it can grow and become stronger in us. In this way we can live with courage, trusting that there is a spiritual power in us when we are together that allows us to live in this world without surrendering to the powerful forces constantly seducing us toward despair. That is how we dare to say that God is a God of love even when we see hatred all around us. That is why we can claim that God is a God of life even when we see death and destruction and agony all around us. We say it together. We affirm it in each other. Waiting together, nurturing what has already begun, expecting its fulfillment – that is the meaning of marriage, friendship, community, and the Christian life.

Reflection Question: When was the last time that you shared your burdens with others and what steps can you take to to seek out others to wait, listen, pray, and cultivate hope with?

When they arrived, they went upstairs to the room where they were staying. Those present were Peter, John, James and Andrew; Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew; James son of Alphaeus and Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of James. They all joined together constantly in prayer, along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers. - Acts 1: 13 - 14

Thoughts on the Feast of Corpus Christi

This weekend we celebrate the feast of the Body and Blood of Christ, often known simply by its Latin name, Corpus Christi, the Body of Christ.

It was only about two months ago, on Holy Thursday, that the Church celebrated the body and blood of Christ. It might seem odd to commemorate that gift again so soon, but this weekend’s celebration has a different character. Holy Thursday was solemn and focused our attention of Jesus’ death. Today’s solemnity is joyful and focuses us on the mission begun at Pentecost: to act as Christ did and share his love with the world.

As St. Paul suggests, this term can have two meanings: the Body of Christ which we share in the Eucharist, and the body of Christ that we form as a community of believers united with the Risen Christ.

This combination of meanings reminds us that the Eucharist is profoundly social. This Sunday’s reading from 1 Corinthians provides a concise but very rich statement about what we do when we celebrate the Eucharist as the people. Paul reminds the Corinthian Christians (and us) that as members of the body of Christ we constitute one body. It is a natural symbol and powerful image, reminding us of how all of its parts must work together and of how no part can be hurt without the whole body being hurt. Christ makes this body different. He comes first; he makes the body; his relationship to us forms us into the body of Christ. Our vertical relationship with Christ has as its necessary consequence our horizonal relationship with one another. In that social sense we are the body of Christ. As Paul states, as members of Christ’s body, we affirm our identity and unity when we receive the eucharistic body of Christ.

In this Sunday’s Gospel from John, Jesus identifies himself as the living bread that came down from heaven. When his disciples take in and become all that he is, the life forces he enfleshed continue to be offered for the life of the world. The interconnectedness of all persons and all life in the body of Christ is not an abstract concept; it is palpable and visible. Our participation in the Eucharist concretizes and energizes our relationship with Christ and with one another. As members of the body of Christ, we share in the body of Christ.

One final thought: Jesus’ body was a place of action. In his body, Jesus healed, fed, forgave, called and taught. Through Jesus’ body, humanity felt God’s love. John teaches us today how we too can, like Jesus, give God a body from which to act and a heart from which to love. Our love of Christ’s body should make of own bodies a place from which God can act in love, thus continuing the mission of Christ.


Fr. Frank Reale, S.J.