The Beautiful Mind of Christ

The 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Today’s Readings: [Click here]

Denise was in her 40s when she had a heart attack. She was rushed to the hospital, and on the operating table, she had a near-death experience. During that experience, she saw God and asked him if this was it. God said no and reassured her that she had another 40 years to live. So once Denise recovered, she decided to stay in the hospital and have a facelift, liposuction and a tummy tuck. She even had someone come in to change her hair color. She figured that since she had a good number of years left, she might as well make the most of it. The day she was released, Denise walked out of the hospital and was killed by a speeding ambulance. She arrived in front of God once again and said, “I thought you said I had another 40 years left!” And God replied, “Sorry, I didn’t recognize you.”

Maybe there’s a modicum of truth in that funny story. When we were baptized, our sins were all washed away and we were left with a shiny, clean soul. So when God looked into our soul, he’d see a reflection of himself—and he’d recognize us as one of his own. But as we’ve continued to live in a world surrounded by temptation and sin, it’s been easy to succumb and sin by our actions and omissions, our desires and even our thoughts… perhaps even to such an extent that God barely recognizes us as his own anymore.

So: what’s going on in your mind today? A very holy grandmother—a former parishioner of mine—used to say that if our true thoughts were ever known, most of us would probably be arrested! The mind may forever be a mystery to scientists and physicians, but one thing is certain: some thoughts can be harmful to others, and ourselves, especially if we act on them.

As a priest, I like to ask people sometimes what they’re thinking. It’s important for people to be aware of their own thoughts and feelings so they can better cultivate the mind of Christ. As the saying goes: as we think, we often become.

Today’s beautiful second reading offers us insight into the mind of Christ, through the words of an early hymn of the Christian church. First-century Christians didn’t really have access to written materials about Christ. Many people were illiterate. They memorized and sang hymns to help them deepen their faith and let them pass on the truths of the gospel to others. Countless generations of faithful believers have been strengthened by this particular hymn of praise, singing it in many different forms and chants, in their search to understand and experience the beautiful mind of Jesus. Maybe you, too, have sung: “every knee shall bow, every tongue confess, that Jesus Christ is Lord.”

Yet who among us can really understand the mind of God? This side of eternity, our finite minds will never fully grasp the beautiful mind of Christ. But the words that St. Paul wrote to the Philippians can help. Even though Jesus has always co-existed with God the Father—the Creator—as an equal part of the Godhead, he willingly humbled himself to walk among us in human form. Christ voluntarily gave up his heavenly privilege, glory and comfort, to share human hardships while confronting evil. He took upon himself the lowliest servant lifestyle imaginable, working as an impoverished carpenter, living in relative obscurity. He chose to work with his hands in rough, menial labor and eat peasant food.

But there’s more to his story.

Jesus was always mindful of God’s plan for his life. He knew he was destined to die a shameful, horrific death on the cross for the sins of the entire world. Because Jesus was willing to suffer and die, God has forever exalted the name of Jesus Christ above all other names in the world. Even though other religions may have a lot to teach us, it is only the name of Jesus that will someday bring us all to our knees in adoration, uniting our voices in praise to our Creator. Every knee shall bow, every tongue confess, that Jesus Christ is Lord.

My mind is nowhere near the mind of Christ. Like you, I struggle with less than noble thoughts. As a sinful humanity, we have self-serving thoughts and ambitions, often at the expense of others.

But here is the hope of the gospel: through prayer, reading the scriptures, worshiping faithfully, and making service of others an integral part of our life, we can experience, in part, the beautiful mind of Christ. We can become less selfish and arrogant, while growing ever more loving and thoughtful of others. The mind of Christ transforms, redeems and reconciles us with God. Truly, that is something to sing about!

So we pray today that God will give us the beautiful mind of Christ and transform our ways of thinking and interacting with other people. May we come to think his thoughts in safety and in danger, in comfort and in our burdens, in life and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Prayer & Canadian Geese

The 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Today’s Readings: [Click here]

One of the special ways that I pray every morning is by taking my dog, Maggie, for a walk around town or through the forest preserve. Actually, I walk and she runs. As Maggie dashes around sniffing and exploring, I talk to God—thanking him for his beautiful creation, asking for his help, and entrusting various needs and petitions to his heavenly care.

One morning this week, I was enchanted to discover a flock of 17 huge Canadian geese right on the beach at one of the Middle Fork ponds. I figured they must have been taking a rest while migrating south. These geese, as you probably know, can be protective, so I was a little apprehensive about Maggie tangling with them.

Well, she spotted them and like a shot, took off in their direction. I started talking to God about this new development.

As the dog got closer, the geese evidently saw her coming… but they didn’t move. During this pregnant pause, I dared a bit of humor with God: “Lord, do you know any good recipes for goose and dog stew?”

But in the nick of time, the flock starting honking and took to the air… and it looks like they were heading towards Indianapolis. All was safe again at Willow Pond!

This morning adventure, I think, is a beautifully simple illustration of the prophet Isaiah’s counsel today: Seek the Lord while he may be found, call him while he is near (Isa 55:6). This truth is echoed in the Psalm: The Lord is near to all who call upon him (Ps 145:18).

We human beings take the air for granted, because it envelops us everywhere. How easy it is, too, to take God for granted, because he is everywhere… but what a fantastic vow he makes: if you don’t just take me for granted but call out to me, I’ll take care of you! That’s got to be why Jesus tells us to pray always (Lk 18:1).

For lots of people, prayer is something you use as a last resort. The doctor is out of treatment options, so you pray. You’re out of work and out of money and the wolf’s at the door, so you pray.

But this notion of prayer misses out on the magnificence of a relationship with God. Prayer, you see, is not supposed to be just a way to get what we want to happen. It’s not like an emergency lever on an alarm call box that you pull in case of fire.

No, prayer is meant to be a way to detach us from our own wants and attach us to God’s… and not just intellectually, but in a real, lived-out way. You might say that prayer moves us from mastery to mystery.

When we pray, especially in the ordinary times of life, we learn to let go of a lot of stuff and put it in God’s hands. Think about what that means. It is humble, because we recognize that God’s in charge—not us. The opposite, of course, is arrogance, which lets us think that we’re in control. I like to remember God’s words to Job: if you think you’re the boss, then go ahead and add another year to your life… or put some more hair on your head!

Praying reminds us that we are vulnerable. We’re part of life, not in control of life. And that, in turn, helps us to recognize grace: divine life that works in us and through us. To me, that’s about as mysterious as it gets.

One of the greatest gifts that the Lord has given us is free will. We get to choose to do things or not to do them. And that includes the choice of whether or not to pray.

I suppose it is possible to go all through life without ever speaking a word to God in prayer—and maybe even without ever heeding his voice in the depth of our heart or conscience. And that, frankly, is terribly sad.

What an unimaginable loss to miss out on the one who, without any ulterior motive, wants nothing more than to love you to bits! Listen to some of the adjectives used in today’s readings to describe how God wants to shower that love on you. He is: merciful, generous, forgiving, full of blessings, gracious, slow to anger, kind, good to all, compassionate and fair. All yours for the asking—literally. Maybe that suggests that if you don’t ask, there’s a chance you won’t get these things.

But would God really do that? Why not? The workers in the gospel today thought that the landowner in Christ’s parable was unfair the way he treated the people who toiled all day as compared to the ones who just worked a couple of hours. The boss said, “Aren’t I free to do as I please? Are you jealous because I feel like being generous?”

In the same way, couldn’t God say, “Look, I said all you have to do is call out to me and I’ll give you all these things. If you can’t even be bothered to do that much, aren’t I within my rights to choose not to give you any special favors?” Something to think about.

The point is, we all should be calling out to God—praying—all the time. If you do it, it becomes almost automatic. Why not take a little time this very day to reflect on this… and begin by asking God to deepen within you the gift of prayer in your life.

The Triumph of the Cross

Feast of the Triumph of the Cross
Today’s Readings: [Click here]

I have a beautiful little book called The Thoughts of Saint Thérèse. She tells an anecdote about one of the novices in her carmel who had committed a small sin and then repented very bitterly of what she had done. Saint Thérèse told her, “Take your crucifix and kiss it.” The young sister kissed the feet. Saint Thérèse asked her, “Is that how a child embraces her father? Now put your arms around his neck immediately and kiss his face.” The novice obeyed. Thérèse wasn’t through yet. She said, “That’s not all. He must return your caresses.” And she had the sister hold the crucifix to each cheek. Then Thérèse said, “Good! Now all is forgiven!”

Don’t you love that story? It makes God so loving… so approachable… so human in his affection for us. I like to reread that story every once in a while to remind myself that there’s a genuine person on the cross—not just some distant and strange being we conveniently call “God.”

Today, the Church celebrates a special and beautiful feast day with a curious title: The Triumph of the Cross. Look at Jesus hanging dead and bleeding on the cross. He’s been humiliated, tortured, degraded, and executed in the most barbaric way known in his day. Yet here we are, 21 centuries later, still proclaiming this event as a triumph!

Of course, we know that the victory, or the triumph of the cross, is that Christ mysteriously took all the sins of the human race upon himself and offered himself as a priceless sacrifice to God the Father. As a result, Jesus Christ obtained forgiveness for all of us. He reopened the gateway to paradise. Sin and death have been overcome, and that certainly is a triumph to beat all triumphs!

But does that theological truth have real meaning for you? Do you really experience and live the triumph of the cross?

That’s why I love how St. Thérèse made it so personal for her religious sister.

I read another story the other day that I think also beautifully illustrates the magnificence of the cross and adds to its personal meaning. This woman was in a store shopping for a sweater. She was very low on funds, so she headed for the clearance rack. As she flipped through the sweaters, one caught her eye. It was the right color and the right size, and best of all, the price tag was marked $8.00. Without much more thought, she bought it. When she got home, the woman slipped on the sweater. Its texture was like silk. She had made her purchase so quickly that she hadn’t really noticed how smooth and elegant the sweater was. Then she saw the original price tag: $254.00! The woman gasped. She had never owned any clothing of that value. She came home with what she thought was a “cheap buy”—but the original price was very high. She had been totally oblivious to its value.

Now look over at the cross again. Just like that lady with her sweater, how often do we treat the power of Jesus’ blood like a “cheap purchase”? Christ’s grace, even though it is free for you and me, carried an enormous price tag—his very life!

I ask you to think for a moment about the day that Our Lord paid that ultimate price. He began that day by doing precisely what we are doing right now—celebrating the mass. It’s good to remember that the mass makes present Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross. That’s why Christ’s cross and the holy Eucharist are inseparable.

Today, as we celebrate the Feast of the Triumph of the Cross, it is wonderful that we can eat Jesus’ flesh and drink his blood in holy communion and proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes in glory! If we take up the crosses of gospel poverty, fasting, making sacrifices, washing others’ feet, taking the lowest place, and forgiving our enemies, we will find that we love the holy Eucharist more than ever—and draw new strength and grace from the cross. If we center our lives on Sunday mass, prepare for mass, try to go to daily mass whenever possible, and make visits to the Blessed Sacrament, we won’t run away from the cross. Instead, we will wonderfully and joyfully embrace it.

Yes, the cross of Jesus Christ is indeed a triumph—for the human race… but especially for you and me personally. Come to the cross and experience God’s amazing love. Amen.

God’s Lap

The 23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time
Today’s Readings: [Click here]

When I was a brand-new priest, I think I took the prophet Ezekiel’s words very personally—and maybe I should say, even pompously: I have appointed you watchman for the house of Israel (Ezek 33:7). I felt it was my job to be God’s Doberman, sniff out sins, and right the errors of the world.

And of course Matthew’s gospel today explains the stages and steps of how that correction should be handled. I was ready, trained and rarin’ to go.

Over the years of my priesthood, I’ve met many good people who feel the same way that I did. Maybe some of you fit in that category.

But the more I grow in my spiritual life—in other words, the more I try to follow Jesus Christ—the more I’m intrigued, and perhaps even perplexed, by the subtleties of the Lord’s teaching. Yes, he says when somebody sins against me, I should go and tell them their fault. But he also says: turn the other cheek (Mt 5:39), do not judge lest you be judged (Mt 7:1), be patient and let the weeds grow up with the wheat until the harvest (Mt 13:24–30).

So how am I supposed to act to really follow the spirit of Christ’s teaching? How do I lovingly draw people to him and yet at the same time not let them be endangered if they truly are entrapped in sin?

To figure all this out, it’s important to remember that God loves all his people. He doesn’t want anyone to be lost. He’s patient, and if I’m willing to help someone, he’ll help me help them… and wait while we see how the person responds. So principle number one is that we don’t have to be frantic.

Then there’s another preliminary step we should follow before we get to the procedure outlined in the gospel. That important step is to observe carefully and just remain silent. Try to be neutral, uncritical, non-judgmental and even accepting, and just watch and try to figure out why the person is behaving as they are.

If you think about the Golden Rule, I’m sure you’ll realize that we all hunger for that kind of respect and acceptance. If I’m a rational person, then I act for a good reason. Won’t you take a moment and try to see what that is before you jump down my throat? That’s all any of us asks, right? And the amazing thing is, silence is a place of great power and healing. We might say that it’s God’s lap.

I know a wonderful doctor named Colleen who treats many pediatric cancer patients. As you can imagine, that’s very difficult and emotionally draining work. This oncologist has a picture of her grandmother in her home, and every day she sits and looks at it for a few minutes before leaving for her office. Her grandmother was born in Ireland and had a lot of that old-world wisdom.

One time when Colleen was very small, her kitten got run over. It was her first experience with death and she took it very hard. Her parents tried to comfort her by telling her that the kitten was in heaven with God, but Colleen didn’t feel much better. She prayed to God and asked him to give her kitten back, but God didn’t do it.

In her anguish, she turned to her grandmother and asked, “Why?” Her grandmother didn’t tell her that her kitten was in heaven like the other adults did. Instead, she simply held Colleen and reminded her of the time when her grandfather had died. She, too, had prayed to God, but God didn’t bring Grandpa back. She didn’t know why. Then Colleen just leaned into the soft warmth of her grandmother’s shoulder and sobbed softly. When she finally looked up into her grandma’s face, she saw that her grandmother was crying as well.

Even though her grandmother couldn’t answer her question, a great loneliness had gone and Colleen did feel better. All the assurances that Peaches was in heaven didn’t give her this strength or peace. Colleen said, “My grandmother was a lap—a place of refuge.” Then she made a breathtaking discovery. She said, “I know an awful lot about cancer in children, but what I really want to be for my patients is a lap. A place from which they can face what they have to face and not be alone.”

That’s what I think Jesus wants us to be: a lap for one another. That’s what it means to love your neighbor as yourself. That’s why love is the fulfillment of the law (Rom 13: 9–10).

Dear God, help us to be patient with each other. Help us to see with your eyes and love with your heart. And above all, use us as your lap. Amen.