Fourth of July Homily

[A homily given on the fourth of July. Some of the more "philosophical" elements, as opposed to the pastoral/moral ones, were added after the fact. This is not a verbatim homily, but rather an approximation]


Brothers and sisters,

On this feast day for our nation we are confronted with many troubling things. The Supreme Court's ruling on marriage, the issues of abortion, contraception, and health care (who provides it and how), are among the many things that affect our hearts and minds. Yet we must be careful, because it is all too easy to focus on ideologies and people.

Archbishop Cupich said it well, I think, calling all of us to respect our brothers and sisters and love them, whoever they are. This love and respect must be "real, not rhetorical." He also says that we must proclaim and preach the Gospel, "hold fast to an authentic understanding of marriage which has been written in the human heart, consolidated in history, and confirmed by the Word of God."

Gay marriage and abortion are contrary to Catholic faith and teaching, but proclaiming the Gospel with respect to life and marriage should not allow us to lose sight of the people to whom we preach.

For we know that there are many homosexuals who are abandoned, mistreated, bullied, and shunned for who they are or what they struggle with. Moreover, many homosexuals who are Christian, who seek to live chastely and grow in holiness are rejected both by Christians and this or that gay community.

Similarly, women who seek abortions are often times scared, coerced, abused, or abandoned.

People such as these need the Gospel as much as we do, and we are called to be Christ to them in a real fashion, not rhetorically.

On this Fourth of July, we celebrate the birth of our nation. It is our home, where our father and mothers of ages past came to seek shelter from persecution, to seek a better life, or to raise their families in peace. We know that just as our homes are not perfect, our home is not perfect. In Scripture today, we see that even the descendents of Abraham were far from perfect. Jacob tricked his father Issac into receiving his blessing, depriving his brother Esau from his birthright (cf., Gen 27:1-29). Esau hunted and exiled Jacob, but later, when Jacob (now Israel) returned, his brother reconciled himself to him. Through our many difficulties we too much seek peace and unity.

Thus, though we disagree with what our country calls justice and equality, we must love our country for our sake as well as theirs. Only love brings forth reconciliation, peace, and truth. Truth cannot be purchased in any other way. Nevertheless, we also recognize that there is no justice, faith, or love without God. We have already learned, again and again, that the justice of our nation is not Justice.

Our laws, Constitution, and courts interpret each other. The notion of equality is not dependent upon them but upon their interpretation, which comes and goes with the tide. We Christians must, all the same, strive for love, faith, and justice that is not temporary, but firmly rooted in God. We must do this is a real, and not rhetorical way.

This is done by concerning ourselves with those who are weakest among us, the sick, the elderly, the imprisoned, and the abandoned. The only equality and freedom that lasts is freedom in the love of Christ.

May God bless us all this day, and may we, His children, strive for unity and peace which can only result from a genuine and real love of Him who loved us first.

My Desire for Marriage

(Note: I've made some major revisions to this piece, mostly attempting to add clarity to my message and fixing up some diction. ~M, 3/15/2014)

As I approach ordination to the Diaconate after 12 years in the seminary it's easy to think about the many “what ifs” in my life. Things such as career, money, jobs, a wife, children, and even a permanent home are things I've given up in pursuit of this call. A call, however, is both something desirable and undesirable. When it comes to vocations I call to mind that “when you were young, you fastened your own belt and walked where you would; but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will fasten your belt for you and carry you where you do not wish to go” (Jn 21:18). Any walk of life requires sacrifice and any vocation, in my view, goes against the grain of our desires.

While the Apostle Matthew was called, “rose and followed him” (Mt 9:9), this is not true of all followers. Calls demand a response, not necessarily a wholehearted desire for the content of that call. Peter himself said, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord” (Lk 5:8). Isaiah lamented, “Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lip in the midst of a people of unclean lips” (Is 6:5a). Jeremiah complained, “Ah, Lord God! Behold, I do not know how to speak, for I am only a youth!” (Jer 1:6). All types of people are represented in Scripture. The overwhelming majority are those who aren't too keen to do what God has asked of them—it's not bad to see ourselves in them.

As Matthew's expression illustrates, "How could you choose me?"

The Lord responds to our response. “Do not be afraid” (Lk 5:10). “Whom shall I send?” (Is 6:8). “To all to whom I send you you shall go, and whatever I command you to speak I shall speak” (Jer 1:7). The formula of God's call is uniform: He reassures us and says, “Do I send whom I have not chosen?” (cf., Is 42:1). This is true because “it was not you who chose me, but I who chose you” (Jn 15:16). Then he tells us rather bluntly, “You will do as I command” (cf., Dt 12:32). We must confront the reality that life is not what I want but what God wants in His time and in His way. Prayer sharpens our hearing, but it is time, grace, and the Church that makes us desire His will as if it were our own.

The call is, for some, a process of constant humiliation, disappointment, frustration, and difficulties. Yet, “Await God's patience, cling to him to do not depart, that you may be wise in all your ways. Accept whatever is brought upon you, and endure it in sorrow; in changes that humble you be patient. For gold and silver are tested in the fire, and acceptable men in the furnace of humiliation” (Sir 2:3-5).

I know what awaits me from others moving forward: disrespect, hatred, dismissive attitudes, and many other things. I know that in my own heart there is a fear of timidness, complacency, and apathy. Yet God has cared for me with those who love me. He has cared for my heart by giving me peace, courage, faith, and hope. I've come to find that all things in me are good but not fulfilled. No one can fulfill himself and love is never fulfilled except from outside of myself. This is His gift to me: the love of God and neighbor is my own fulfillment.

Having given up everything to follow Him I approach a new chapter in my life: sacrificing personal desire for the sake of those sheep whom Christ said to feed and shepherd. I will soon experience this call and experience it with the people of God, and there are many trials and many blessings herein.

As I prayed about these things in my heart I called to mind the couples that I will marry. I called to mind that they too are called and respond as all men do to God's call. I thought of my friends with children and the unique opportunity that having children offers in your life, but I also considered the many trials they will experience. In a life that is, by necessity, “focused on the things of this world” (cf. 1 Cor 7:33-34). What hope is there for a married couple and, I thought, what could I say to them to take the concrete experiences of their life and see God?

This, then, is my desire for marriage: that couples reflect on the fact that their relationship truly reflects the Divine Life and to keep this close to their heart throughout their own trials.

Only parents can experience God as a parent. Reflect that God calls us sons and daughters, too. A child comes forth in pain, crying, but it is met with love. The child is needy, depriving sleep from one's eyes and peace from one's mind, yet it is loved because it is life and the “fruit of my body” (cf., Dt 28:4). Throughout his or her life, their suffering is your suffering, their anxieties are your anxieties, and their joy is your joy. When they are sick you heal them. When they are scared they run to you. When they are arrogant they turn from you. When they are bad they anger you. When they are away they sadden you. Through it all these emotions are intensified because of the love with which you first loved them.

Your spouse, the one whom you love, was a co-creator and cooperator in your own love. You share life and you share hardships, even if each one bears it unevenly. Your love changes you and it is completed by being received and then returned. This too is the life of grace. This is a life of faith in as concrete a manner as one can experience it. This is the God of the Old Testament and New in as intimate, reasonable, and accessible way as one can approach it.

Any child becomes a sign of God's covenant with His people. Know that your feelings for your child are merely a fraction of what God feels for you. Yet despite your child's suffering that result from his wickedness, from misfortune, or persecution your love for him remains undaunted. If a mother or father's love can endure evil and even death, how much more does God's love endure through our sins and the sins of of the world!

Jesus promises that “his burden is easy” and his yoke light (Mt 11:30). Life has shown us that it is not easy. “Much labor was created for every man, and a heavy yoke is upon the sons of Adam” (Sir 40:1). Christ said this, however, because not only is this life of imitating God possible, it is peace for the soul. For “when a woman is in labor, she has pain because her hour has come; but when she is delivered of the child, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a child is born into the world” (Jn 16:21). This is love God shows to those who return to Him, love and peace we all have access to.

Life for both of us, ordained or married, is a unique call from the others. It is indeed a life of responsibility unlike any other. This is a gift given to us, even if it doesn't always seem good or desirable. All life is a gift, no matter the type, since we are all pilgrims on one path—may our feet not stray! We have all been called.

His response is simple: Be not afraid, follow me.

Let it happen to me according to your word.

The Voice of God

Sometimes when I reflect on Scripture I only consider the words before me. I examine their origin, their context, their meaning, and their hidden meanings. In no way do I discourage this as there is a great deal of wisdom and fruit that comes from these things.

Other times I consider myself, the individual who hears these words. I, a student who is in the midst of this semester, who is experiencing beautiful fall weather, and who contemplates a life in service to God and others, hear the words of Scripture in a way unique to myself.

Some live in tropical climates, others live in frigid lands, some live in places at war, while others still live in prosperity. His voice reaches all the ends of the earth. It's incredible to think that I, in this place, with this or that disposition, and at this time, am hearing God's word as He intended me to hear it.

The Gospel is not just the words that are written but the words that are heard. "I am not ashamed of the gospel: it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who has faith" (Rom 1:16). "Stephen, full of grace and power, did great wonders and signs among the people. ... [His detractors] could not withstand the wisdom and the Spirit with which he spoke" (Acts 6:8, 10). A word, spoken in the Spirit and heard in the Spirit, produces in us a profound effect. We rightly reverence those words deemed necessary on revelation, but do we not also reverence those in whom we witness the Spirit? For we should reverence God wherever He is, not only on the page but among us and in the world too.

Likewise, God speaks one message, but we hear it in many ways. All the same, God asks us to respond in the same way: with love, all while praising His glorious name. Jesus emerges from the desert saying, "Repent! and believe in the gospel!" One voice demanding one response.

This one response happens in many ways. The one who suffers from lust must respond with chastity while the one suffering from pride must respond with humility. The one who despairs must respond with hope and the one who is angry must respond with patience. Often I find that all of us suffer from numerous things: pride, lust, despair, and anger. The cross seems to heavy to bear, and the response seems as if it would strain our voice.

At this time it would seem necessary to first take an inventory of our sins, our emotions, and our thoughts. It is not enough to say "I am tempted so I must be chaste." Rather, upon reviewing ourselves we say, "I am unchaste when I give into my anger." One may pluck the fruit of sin only to have it regrow. Finding the root is the surer means of conquering sin. The root, if deep, requires great effort and persistence to pull. That you are pulling at that root is a cause for thanksgiving. "Hermas, stop saying all these prayers for your sins. Ask also for righteousness, so that you may take part of it to your family" (Shepherd of Hermas, 9:6). Praying for forgiveness, while good, also makes us focus on ourselves. Praying for righteousness and strength allows us to share it with others.

Listen to His voice. When you decide where His voice is or isn't you have already hardened your heart. Did not King David find God's voice in the dissenting servant of his enemies house? Zeru'iah said to him, "Why should this dead dog curse my lord the king? Let me go over and take off his head." David replied, "What have I to do with you, you sons of Zeru'iah? If he is cursing because the Lord has said to him, 'Curse David,' who then shall say, 'Why have you done so?" (2 Sam 16:9, 10) (cf. 2 Sam 16).

So too must it be with us. Do not say, "The Lord is only with this man" or "The Lord in only in Scripture" for you are then a liar and a deceiver. Do not say, "The Lord only speaks good things to me" for many of God's servants were treated severely before they were glorified. Furthermore do not say, "I should have never been born," for "before I formed you in the womb I knew you" (Jer 1:5) and "all the hairs of your head are numbered" (Mt 10:30).

God is speaking to every one but He is also speaking to you in the manner He sees fit. "My son, if you receive my words and treasure up my commandments with you, making your ear attentive to wisdom and inclining your heart to understanding ... then you will understand righteousness and justice and equity, every good path; for wisdom will come into your heart, and knowledge will be pleasant to your soul" (Prv 2:2, 9-10).

It's Easy to Blame Someone Else

I am not necessarily a disciplined person. When I set out to do one task I get distracted by the thought of 100 others. I worry about time management, am at times anxious about the future, and at other times prefer to do what I want instead of doing what I need to do.


Recently in the news Heisman trophy winner Johnny Manziel apologized for missing a meeting. He eventually was asked to leave a football camp he was asked to help at. He claims that his alarm didn't go off while others were wondering if the 20 year old was out drinking or something else. Whatever the truth may be his comments were more revealing. He was a young man thrust into the spotlight because of his abilities and seemingly annoyed that such a big fuss was being made over what seems like a small event to him (there were, of course, other events surrounding this).

He commented that he's "just 20 years old" and that he's "going to live his life to the fullest." He said he apologized to one of his coaches for, basically, 'everyone else making a big deal about it.'

I never got the sense the apology was entirely sincere or self-referential. He wasn't particularly sorry about missing the meeting. He was more sorry everyone had to notice.

He said what he said was because of outside pressure. This came to mind because today I wondered about how I say "I'm sorry" when I make a mistake. Do I blame my circumstances? How busy I am? Do I say, "I'll just make mistakes"?



In spiritual direction I've talked about how I'm trying to listen to my conscience more. Rather, I find that I can hear it compelling me to this or that and yet, all the same, I choose to ignore it because "I'm busy" or some other excuse.

Over the past few months, maybe even a year, there have been periods in my life where I don't feel God's presence, or I get bogged down with worries about the future. These worries keep me from prayer. I would go to spiritual direction or try and figure things out and it would seem nothing was working.

I began to question. I said, "I probably need a new spiritual director," or "If only I had more time," and other times, "If only I didn't let myself get more distracted."

All of these were fancy ways of rationalizing to myself why I didn't pray. I realized that perhaps God isn't far from me because He'll let me sort myself out. Perhaps He's farther away because I'm not going to Him.


It's very simple, really. It's just difficult to execute because in the process we have to accuse ourselves.

I notice often that there are times when I'm going about the tedium of my day and right in the middle of my heart there's a voice that says, "You should pray." Many times it forces me to stop right there. On days where I am stronger, more courageous, I respond. I stop idling and pray--and often times I come across something profitable and useful. Other times I shake my head and continue about as normal--I was too busy, no doubt.


I think the same is true for all of us:

"I don't get anything out of the mass."
"I have too much going on."
"I just pray differently, you know?"
"It doesn't fulfill me."
"I could be doing something else."


When our heart tells us it's time to do something we should, naturally, reflect on it. Plenty of people act on impulse and do stupid or wicked things.  We can feel compelled to eat, to go out and drink, to have sex, to sleep, or any other sort of bodily pleasure. People follow them to relax. Many people follow them to escape. Yet the impulse to prayer is one that's harder to explain away.

Prayer costs nothing and forces us to look at ourselves deeply. What do we really want? What do we really need? Are we who we ought to be?

All of us have a conscience, inspired by grace, to lead us to God. When we come to recognize what's right that's one battle. Doing it, on the other hand, that's the war.

Pray for me, and pray for all of us, that we listen to the voice of God constantly speaking to the deepest corners of our heart. Pray even more that we act upon those words.

His Divine Mercy

Note: This was a reflection I gave after praying the chaplet of divine mercy. The chaplet is simple, powerful, and beautiful. (Learn how to) Pray it. Learn about St. Faustina here.

I find it funny that after all my work on this--the reading, the reflection, etc.--that better words and more powerful words, the work of the Holy Spirit, explained this to children as I spoke to them today. Maybe I'll write down those words and it will show me that my "labors" are nothing, truly, in comparison to the Holy Spirit working in me. I told them that people can encounter Christ through two things: the Eucharist and the Church. We are the living members of the Body of Christ, and the lost, confused, and broken encounter Him through us IF we unite ourselves to Him.

Today is about mercy which "triumphs over judgment." The justice of God is real, something we should never forget. But God is so willing and ready to forgive all who come to Him. But if they never encounter Him they will never know His mercy. We, as His members, must give that message to the world: That He is risen, He loves us, and that His mercy extends farther than all of creation.

If you have comments or reactions, please let me know in the comments below.


His Divine Mercy

If a tree is known by its fruit, to what shall we compare the infinite mercies of God, a fruit of his great love? We know that “God is love” (1 John 4:8), and so where Love is the tree, mercy is the fruit. Mercy cannot come from anything else but a deep love.

There can be no other fitting witness and proof of God's mercy than being itself. Faustina recounts Him saying, “If I call creatures into being—that is the abyss of my mercy” (sec. 86). God created man in order that he might love Him; God already loved us. Man, however, was seduced by the devil. He was made to believe that his love could be shared among God and his own desires.

Man, if he had loved God wholly, would have loved everything else in proper proportion and thus he would have been happy. Man, by his sin, not only brought his vision out of perspective but damaged creation itself. One may even say that all of mankind, when they sin, harm creation, the foundational sign of the Trinity's love. This transgression would be enough to erase mankind from creation as a matter of justice. The Lord punished man, but his punishment was such that man might be restored to God.

Man was cast away from paradise, that is to say perfect union with God. Nevertheless, God did two things to ensure we would return to Him. First, he promised that there would be one whom would free man from his error and sin. Secondly, he cast the body and soul of man into discord so that they would be at war with one another. Both were acts of merciful justice. By placing discord within us, the lens of our focus could discover God more clearly. When we encountered truth and peace, two things now outside of us, we would be drawn to it. The light of Truth burns brightly in the darkness of disunity, conflict, and sin.

Adam and Eve are a good lesson in what the consequences of sin are, not just in the moment but for subsequent generations. Sins we commit may not affect us as much as they will our children or our children's children. The state of sin that we enter into was laid down by our parents and ancestors.

My dear brothers and sisters, there is a great darkness that covers the world. It is the darkness of self-centeredness and isolation where countless men and women wander the earth resigning themselves to destruction. God desires that His mercy enter into this darkness.

Jesus said to St. Faustina: “At that last hour, a soul has nothing with which to defend itself except my mercy. Happy is the soul that during its lifetime immersed itself in the Fountain of Mercy, because justice will have no hold of it” (sec. 1075).

We hear the words of James echoed in this for he says “Judgment is merciless to the one who has not shown mercy, but mercy triumphs over judgment” (James 2:13).

How shall we grow in mercy, and how shall we go about spreading His mercy to the world? Both occur when we grow in love in light of His love and when we are merciful in light of His mercy.

We must first recognize Jesus Christ as Lord and humble ourselves before His great power and love. Then we must humble ourselves a second time, for when we look at Him we are forced to look upon ourselves: weak, limited, and lacking in love. By setting God as the first point we now establish ourselves as the second point. In this process we reveal the great chasm between us. But the arms of Christ stretched out on the cross are greater than any chasm. And if this chasm were to be as deep as the ocean it was God who established the depths and there He would reach for us.

Jesus reached to Peter in the raging waters, not abandoning him in his moment of doubt.

In recognizing this great love we grow in gratitude and joy. The result of that joy is a heartfelt prayer that all people will know this joy. James reminds us that “whoever brings a sinner from the error of his way will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins” (James 5:20). The justice of God is real, but His mercy is such that He is willing to let His justice fall away. Recall the prodigal son, wasting everything and having nothing, how by his own designs was left in loneliness and squalor. When he made his pilgrimage back to the father the father ran out to embrace him. It says that the father was “filled with compassion. He ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him” (Lk 15:20). The son admitted his guilt knowing that he deserved nothing. He asked for little yet the father gave him everything.

This is just one illustration of the mercy of God; there are countless others. Christ desires this for all men: that they return to Him so He may pour out His divine mercies upon them. Those of us who have encountered Him have drunk from the font of His mercy—some of us a small amount, some of us a great deal. All of us, whether young or old, require His mercy to continue on our pilgrimage on earth.

In order to traverse this world and for mercy to enter our hearts our lives must imitate the Israelites who were enslaved and then wandered in the desert. Our captivity is the captivity of sin. When we are aware of our sinfulness we seek deliverance from the bondage of sin. Our hearts are thus disposed toward the Lord—a great act of His mercy. For “in the land of their captivity they shall have a change of heart; they shall know that I am the Lord their God. I will give them hearts, and heedful ears; and they shall praise me in the land of their captivity … and I will bring them back to the land which with my oath I promised to their fathers” (Baruch 2:30-32a, 34). Furthermore, “I will lead [Israel] into the desert and speak to her heart … and on that day ... she shall call me 'My husband' … [and] I will espouse you to me forever. I will espouse you in right and in justice, in love and in mercy.” (Hosea 2:16, 18, 21).

Just like the Israelites we will wander in the desert. Being freed from the grip of sin will not ensure that our eyes will look backward to what we once had. This is why when the Isrealites grumbled “Would that we had died at the Lord's hand in the land of Egypt, as we sat by our fleshpots and ate our fill of bread!” (Ex 16:3). What they longed for were the comforts of the life of slavery they once had. This may seem strange to us: do they desire the backbreaking labor of slavery and the shame of subjection? No, they desired the idols of Egypt that held no power over them yet to which they could abandon themselves in lust, gluttony, and a multitude of sins.

We too are the same. We abandon our sin out of fear and love of God, but when He demands that we become even more perfect we sometimes grumble, wishing to abandon ourselves to the slavery of sin—all that sin demands of us is that we abandon ourselves to it. It holds no power, and yet we give it power. Christ asks us to abandon ourselves to Him so we may bear the yoke of freedom. It is only in abandoning ourselves to Him we gain ourselves.

God has us enter the desert of deprivation, trial, and suffering so we may find Him. While it is a period of trial, it is also a period of prayer and contemplation. In entering the emptiness of life, all sins are exposed as mist and all of our desires become as if nothing. All that remains in the desert is God and the fullness of Life promised to us. Indeed, “From this fountain spring all graces for souls. The flames of compassion burn me I desire greatly to pour them out upon souls. Speak to the whole world about my mercy.” (§1190). Faustina writes Jesus' words to her: “[Urge] all souls to trust in the unfathomable abyss of my mercy, because I want to save them all. On the cross, the fountain of My mercy was opened wide by the lance for all souls—no one have I excluded!” (sec. 1182).

The prophet Micah additionally says, “Who is there like you, the God who removed guilt and pardons sin for the remnant of his inheritance; Who does not persist in anger forever, but delights rather in clemency, and will again have compassion on us, treading underfoot our guilt?” (Micah 7:18-19).

When the Israelites wandered, their hearts were prepared through deprivation to receive the fullness of God.

We may have to wander for a time or face man trials in both youth and old age. All of these things are meant to train our hearts to find Him and rest in Him. Our sufferings are not the result of wrath but the growing pains by which we come to know God. Like the pains of childbirth it gives way to unimaginable joy—we shall suffer for a time only to emerge with a greater love.

Our God is a God who delights in mercy. His anger is aroused more profoundly when we, the beneficiaries of His mercies, turn away and neglect them. The sinner who does not repent from his sin is less vile in His eyes than one who returns God's love and then retracts it. This is why God had dealt so harshly with Israel, even so much as to say “you are not my people, and I will not be your God” (Hosea 1:9). The flames of his anger, however, are extinguished with the blood and water that flow from His side.

There are more words I could say on this subject, but a drop of God's mercy is greater than an ocean of words. The choir of angels sing his mercy. The procession of saints, those in heaven and on earth, preach it to all they encounter. St. Clement of Rome said so many years ago, “Let us comply with His magnificent and glorious purpose, and let us crave his mercy and loving kindness on bended knee, and turn to His compassion” (1 Cor sec. 9).

How shall we be known? What tree shall we be? If we grow in love it means that we will grow in patience, kindness, humility, understanding, and mercy. As we pray for mercy we grow in love. That love compels us to love the world that Christ did not abandon from the first grievous sin to the present moment. That love, moreover, compels us to bring sinners to Christ.

Let us recall, in closing, Christ's words to St. Faustina:

Let the greatest sinners place their trust in My mercy. They have the right before others to trust in the abyss of My mercy. My daughter, write about My mercy towards tormented souls. Souls that make an appeal to My mercy delight Me. To such souls I grant even more graces than they ask. I cannot punish even the greatest sinner if he makes an appeal to My compassion, but on the contrary, I justify him in My unfathomable and inscrutable mercy. Write: before I come as a just Judge, I first open wide the door of My mercy. He who refuses to pass through the door of My mercy must pass through the door of My justice..... (sec. 1146)

Many are tormented, many are lost, many do not know His mercy and thus walk toward the door of His justice. Pray fervently that His love and mercy will be made known through you, through His priests, through holy men and women, through His Church, through prayers, through self-sacrifice, through service, and through His most Holy Eucharist. God has sent us to gather the harvest, shall we not bring the wheat he desires most—the repentant sinner?

"I will teach the wicked your ways, that sinners may return to you" (Psalm 51:15)

Did We Miss Something?

Reflection on Sunday's Readings (01/27/2013) Link

Ezra told the people “Do not be saddened this day, for rejoicing in the Lord must be your strength!” The people before Ezra had been scattered and abandoned for a time, but they had been reunited. Their heritage had been lost and their home was in ruins. Now, all of a sudden, they were back together and their greatest treasure, the law of the Lord, was being taught to them again. The people, filled with emotion, began to weep—perhaps they wept at what they had lost. Perhaps they wept because forsaking the law cost them their home. Whatever the reason Ezra and the other leaders urged them to eat good food and drink sweet drinks. Here we see that returning the word of God brought joy, but also sadness, to those who were present.

The Psalm today states that the law of the Lord “refreshes the soul” but the leaders of the people in the Old Testament needed to urge everyone to refresh themselves. Nehemiah and Ezra asked them to 'party', so to speak, in order feel the joy that they should be feeling. It's odd advice to tell someone to “be happy” after they've cried—have they just missed something?

We may also notice that the crowd gathered at the synagogue in today's Gospel reacted in a peculiar way. Luke recounts that Jesus was praised for his power and teaching. He stood up among those present and read from the prophet Isaiah where he proclaimed that this was a “year acceptable to our Lord," greater than the holy 'day' proclaimed by Ezra. As he sat back down everyone else sat in stunned silence. They maybe thought to themselves at the moment—“did we just miss something?” Jesus satisfies their curiosity by saying “this passage is fulfilled in your hearing.”

Both of the stories today continue beyond this point, but it's worth pointing out why we've decided to stop at these particular points in both. The Old Testament shows the fulfillment of the prophets: the people have returned to Jerusalem. The New Testament proclaims fulfillment from God to those who need Him most. 

These accounts both present the fulfillment of a message and a reason to be happy, yet both groups present are not happy. 

It is strange that neither of these groups are particularly happy. The Jews longed in their heart for the word of God. Scripture says that it was explained to them plainly. When they heard it, they wept. The children of Israel waited for a savior, one who would lift the burden from the oppressed. When they saw Him, they remained silent. It's not unlike us nearing the end of a good book and we don't want to finish because it would mean leaving that world. It seems that when their aspirations and innermost hopes were manifested before their eyes they acted as if they were looking for something else.

Some people have said that the 'journey is better than the destination,' but while the journey is necessary the destination is the reason for that journey. Scripture today relates to us that when our senses come into contact with God we hardly believe it—sometimes because it's too good to be true, as with the Old Testament, and so we doubt; other times it's too true to be real, as with Christ, and so we brush it off. Is the same true with the Eucharist? Has God really visited his people in simple bread and common wine?

Jesus coming into our life should be an occasion for happiness precisely because he comes to us in the smallest of things. It stands to reason that he comes to us in a great number of things beyond it. If we deny Christ who is present before our eyes, who are we looking for instead—what are we looking for? There are those who suffer here in each of our communities and those who struggle right in front of us. They are the people who are urged to be most happy because God is with them. They are looking for God in the smallest of things. Do you think they would doubt or fail to recognize Him when they saw Him, even if it was through you?

Those who consider themselves fulfilled know they really aren't, but they look for that one perfect thing to complete them. Those who are starved are thankful with the smallest amount. 

Scripture is perhaps telling us to be hungry. But then it tells us to eat rich foods and drink sweet drinks. What fulfills us is here to be experienced: the consolation of the poor, the joy of those who mourn, and Christ fully present. We must believe that this is true and that this will make us happy, otherwise we'll always be looking for something else. Don't miss it.

In Praise of Weakness

 Author's Note:

I realized after writing this that it may be cryptic for some. For those struggling with one of the themes, please consider this: to neglect, hate, or ridicule someone or something for weakness or simplicity is an error on your part. These are all strong words, to be sure, but I've heard far too many arguments along the lines of "he's a sinner how could you love him?" Even of the blessed St. Peter "he was a fool and serves as an example for us." Others may say "I hate myself because I keep messing up [in sin, etc.]." Others still have said that "the Church is just human authority filled with human weakness, I follow God alone."

Part of this is about patience and perseverance coupled with understanding and a willingness to change.

I ask, humbly, you reflect on those sentiments with this. This is hardly adequate for full but in the interest of your own attention and retention I cut this down significantly.

What are you talking about??  (Comment below if you feel that way)

I. Introduction

Those who do not share in the weaknesses of the body have no share in the body itself. For what body in this life is free from corruption and limitedness? Even the great Body of Christ is subject to weakness precisely because he subjected Himself to our weakness since “he took the form of a slave” (Phil 2:7) and “was of human estate.” Even after the Resurrection His resplendent and transformed body still bore the wounds of his glorious crucifixion (cf. Jn 20:20). It should be noted even more that Jesus identifies Himself with the weak and broken for “what you have done for the least of these you have done for me” (Mt:25:40). Likewise Jesus identified Himself with those who were persecuted, ridiculed, and killed in His name. This is why He said “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” (cf. Acts 9:4, 5).

Paul said that “Christ is the head of the body the church.” (Col 1:18). We have seen, albeit briefly, that Christ shared in our humanity fully and willfully. We saw, through His resurrection, that He transformed our weaknesses while still keeping the physical marks of that weakness. They were not cast aside or hidden but present in plain sight. Jesus told Thomas “put your finger in my hands and in my side” (cf. Jn 20:27ff). The history of Christianity is a constant call to “place our fingers on the wounds of His body.” Thomas doubted the Resurrection, perhaps, because after witnessing the horror and shame of the cross (and living in his own shame) he asked ‘how might anything good come from this?’ Christ showed him precisely the good that came from it, namely His own person.

Caravaggio's famous painting not only represents the doubt of Thomas but that same doubt that we feel about our Church and her divine characteristics. Are we willing to address our doubts? Are we still willing to trust in the Church?

II. Sharing in Weakness

This is what I call each of you to do today: If you are to truly share in the Body of Christ do you share in its weaknesses? The weaknesses I refer to are failures in charity, excessive opulence, elements of the Inquisition and Crusades, sex abuses, and every weakness that we see in our own person. Blaming the past, however horrible—and indeed some things are horrible—is to separate fallen and weak humanity from the life of faith. Faith is not perfection but, in a manner of speaking, seeking perfection. Weakness is either self-generated or encountered, shall we shy away from either?

I rarely see this type of image, of Jesus as a fragile child being cared for. Jesus Christ, our savior and Lord, became as a little child out of love for us.

Christ met our broken humanity. He calls us through faith and baptism to share in His mission of transforming all of humanity. If we deny the humanity of the Body we separate ourselves from that Body. The Church is the Body of Christ beset by human weakness but all the same transformed by Christ and upheld by the Spirit.

When we recognize weaknesses and failures there is a twofold response: the first is active insofar as we seek to rid ourselves of that weakness (whatever it may be). The second, equally important, is to realize that we are not separate from our weaknesses. The weaknesses that we carry inform our actions for the future, even in healing. If we do not address our weakness actively we won’t change effectively. If we try to disassociate ourselves from our weaknesses we become insensitive to the weaknesses of others and we forget who we are.

III. Examples of Weakness Transformed

St. Peter is our first example and our guide. He was filled with faith and he was blessed personally by Christ (cf. Mt 16:16-20). But he had his faults too. He was rash and at times overzealous. This zeal, coupled with his predispositions about what the Messiah was supposed to be, led him to deny Christ three times while He was being humiliated. He abandoned his friend and the one whom he loved. “He wept bitterly” (cf. Mt 27:75). After the resurrection Christ called out to him and Peter responded. Christ confronted Peter’s sin, fear, and weakness not by shaming him but by asking him, “Peter, do you love me?” Jesus asked him this three times for every time Peter denied him. Peter recanted three times saying “You know that I love you” (Jn 21:17). Peter is a man whose strengths and weaknesses are on full display. Just as God had chosen Moses, Abraham, and David before He chose this time to call a simple fisherman to greatness. These patriarchs and this king themselves sinned, doubted, and failed. Through it all they carried out what God had asked of them. Only Peter, however, was given “the keys of the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 16:19).

Despite his brashness and weakness Christ still pulled him from the water. Despite his denial Jesus came to him and Peter grew in understanding, wisdom, and love because of Christ's example.

Our chief example, and one that has given me pause for years, is the Eucharist. I believe in Christ and I believe in Christ risen. I also believe that at the Last Supper he gave us a model to follow: he took the bread, broke it and said, 'take this all of you and eat this. This is my body which has been given up for you.' He also said of the wine 'this is my blood.' This I believe with my whole heart. This sentiment is in accord with all that has been said above. Truly, to our senses it appears as mere bread and mere wine. Then I recall with wonder that “he emptied himself … coming in human likeness and found in human appearance” (Phil 2:7). Likewise that “he had to become like his brothers in every way” (Heb 2:17).

Indeed, the Eucharist is regarded as the Son of Man, present sacramentally in ordinary bread and wine which has been transformed by the prayer that Christ entrusted to His Apostles and their successors. The Eucharist is both a glorification of the Cross and a sacrifice that dips into the eternal moment of Christ's one sacrifice and shares fully in it. It is something that stands outside of time. Something so grand, God Himself! in ordinary, daily food. Christians have praised the extraordinary in the ordinary as well as paradox from the beginning insofar as “Jews look for signs and Greeks look for wisdom but we proclaim Christ crucified” (1 Cor 1:22-23).

This is what we exalt. Do you?

Furthermore Jesus Christ Himself is “the living bread that came down from heaven that one may eat it and not die. I AM the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world” (Jn 6:50-51). I could occupy an encyclopedia set with the richness of these verses. The word “eat” (phagein) has no spiritual connotation. It literally means to chew and physically eat. By eating this living bread we shall not die. Then Christ follows by saying “ego eimi” which means “I am.” But this is no mere “I am” but rather a direct reference to God speaking about Himself in the Old Testament. It is a proclamation of authority and power—this is something we should listen to. He said “I AM the living bread come down from heaven.” He then says “Whoever eats/chews this bread will live forever.” He further says “the bread which I give is my flesh,” Literally my earthly flesh. The simple bread which He gives is his flesh. For the time being let this entirely inadequate account suffice. No “ego eimi” statement in Scripture is a metaphor or an opinion. It is Jesus speaking in the authority of the Father on an intrinsic reality.

IV. Share in Weakness, Share in Glory

What is my purpose in saying all of this? Proceeding from the Eucharist and the example of the Apostles (chief among them Peter) Christ gave us two simple and lowly things and transformed them. He transformed bread and wine into His flesh and blood. He transformed simple fishermen into philosophers, teachers, and bearers of His message. Though they were of human estate they were transformed and “filled with the Holy Spirit” (Acts 2:4).

The Church is the Body of Christ—it is subject to weakness. The Eucharist is bread and wine made the Body and Blood of Christ—it is common and ordinary yet mysterious and sublime. The Apostles were chosen by Christ Himself to bear unique witness to His teaching and mission—they were “also human beings” (Acts 10:26). Jesus Christ identifies with the poor, persecuted, and the oppressed in an intimate way—they are lowly and 'worthless' in the eyes of the world. Finally, Jesus Christ Himself, was born of a virgin in poverty. He was a helpless child and a man subjected to ridicule and cruel torture. A man who took on our every weakness.

By eating His flesh and blood, and through baptism, we join ourselves more fully to Him so that we may share in His suffering. In our own flesh we “fill up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of His body, which is the Church” (Col 1:24). When the Church, or even her members, do evil the whole suffers. By our personal and communal work, love, and suffering we correct the wounds of that Body and also “share in our master's joy” (cf. Mt 25:14-23).

Follow their hands and their eyes. They are looking at Christ, yes. They are looking at the Eucharist.

Join yourself, then, more fully to Him and His Church, for those who do not share in the weaknesses of the Body will separate themselves from the Body. In rejecting weakness and wickedness as unlovable they move away from the God “who so loved the world that He gave His only Son” (Jn 3:16a).

Faith and Works Part II: Love

II. To Speak of these Things We Must Speak about Love

Last time we briefly examined faith, works, and the aim of my work. We saw that faith was both a response to a call and a 'hope for things not yet realized.' My claim, for the sake of clarification, is that faith is something that looks outwards. Without faith we cannot know what to look for or what to trust, and without works that faith is dead. By works we mean actions that seek to bring about that hope. So in a certain sense faith does inspire us to works and works do flow from faith. On the other hand faith allows us to see what we should work towards. Stronger still, faith helps us to see what we must work for. (see part 1 here:Part 1)

But if faith is perceiving what we desire then desire alone will not allow us to receive what we desire. Works are necessary to reach the goal that we desire. This is why James says “I will demonstrate my faith to you from my works” (James 2:18) and that “faith was completed [literally: perfected] by the works [of Abraham]” (2:22). This theme will be expanded on later by viewing in detail the parable of the Sower and the seed in hopes to make this point clearer. For now we shall turn to the argument at hand.

Rather than analyzing faith and works right away we should look at love [caritas]. In order to speak of these two words and ideas we must speak of a third, namely love.

There is hardly a better place to begin either, for “God is love” (1 Jn 4:8) and that of all the virtues and gifts of the Holy Spirit “faith, hope, and charity [caritas] remain … but the greatest of these is charity [i.e., love]” (1 Cor 13:13). Faith itself is initiated by love and sustained by love. Faith is a sort of relationship to God and knowledge of God. The blessed Apostle John says, however, that “Whoever is without love does not know God … [for] no one has ever seen God. Yet if we love one another, God remains in us, and his love is brought to perfection in us” (1 Jn 4:8, 12). Love then seems superior to faith in many instances in Scripture. It is not superior such that faith is useless. Rather, Augustine speaks well in his masterpiece On Christian Teaching when he says “faith will be replaced by the sight of visible reality, and hope by the real happiness we shall attain, whereas love will actually increase when [the world] passes away” ( Book I. 90). Faith is meant to get us somewhere and Love is where we must go. Augustine also says rightly that if our faith lapses then our love will also lapse, since we would not know what to love. As it stands, however, “if I have faith so as to move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing” (1 Cor 13:2).

Love is also greater than works because love is both a work and the foundation of all works. Every man acts for some purpose and that purpose is love. A man may love wrongly—preferring evil things to good things. But a proper love produces proper works. A problem emerges: someone may give to the poor which is itself a good work, but that person may not love the poor. The foundation of all law and service, however, is not to give goods to others but to love them. Love is not a work like other works but it is the supreme work that must be the source of all others if any of our works are to have life. An analogy, imperfect as it is, may help here: our bodies sometimes twitch. Nerves are excited and our arm or leg jerks because of something that affected us. But when we have a sound disposition we order our arms and bodies to do many different tasks with precision.

Works when they are without love, even though they are good, are like barely-lifeless twitches. Works inspired and guided by love is like the skill of a fine craftsman—intentional, knowledgeable, and purposeful.

Love, it seems, is truly the foundation of all. For our purposes it seems to be the foundation for both faith and works. There is no greater work of love, apart from Christ crucified, than that of creation. Love, therefore, creates. It may be said that faith and works alike proceed from love and are completed by love. All the same, faith and works are the expressions of love as well as the road by which we love.

God's love is perfect but our own love lacks perfection. This is why we have faith and works.

Faith directs our hearts and peers into the shadows of great mysteries. For revelation is God's gift which allows us to know of the world, ourselves, and God Himself. We see all of these things by faith: that creation is good, ordered, and loved. It shows us that God is Three-in-One, transcendent, and yet immanent.

Works temper our bodily passions and sharpen our vision. For without doing good works ourselves how may we see the work of the Holy Spirit in us and others? When our bodies are distracted by idle passions we will fail to see truth clearly and, by our weakened disposition, fail to love readily.

At this point, however, love is still a vague idea. As I have mentioned above we all love something or someone. In like manner we desire certain things, jobs, pleasures, and honors for ourselves. In order to understand love more precisely I would like to focus our attention to the Trinity. In order to understand how faith and works proceed from love it is important, I think, to first look at Love Himself. Though I can only speak weakly I want to speak on the Trinity so we may reflect on perfect Love which produced everything—a love so powerful that it brought forth everything from nothing! From that reflection we shall see a bit more clearly, I think, what that means for us and what it reveals to us about humanity made in His image.

For next time: The Trinity, Love, and Human Beings

The Mediation of the Saints: Part 1

(Parts 2 and 3 of this ongoing series are completed, with more on the way! 
Check it out: 

Part 2: God Works Through Us, 
Part 3: Walking Together)

A: Introduction

In this piece I hope to accomplish, step-by-step, an understanding of the saints. In a small part how we should strive to be saintly and in larger part how we should consider those who are called saints in the fullest sense, i.e., those with almighty God in heaven who pray for us and continue, in His friendship, to aid us in many ways. Though I will begin by mentioning mediation I will pick it up in a later part.

I. Who are They?

Christ indeed is “the one mediator between God and the human race” (1 Tim 2:5) but does this mean that God the Father will only listen to Christ? Does not the Lord “have eyes for the just and ears for their cry”? (Ps 34:16). Further still Christ tells us to “ask and it will be given to you” (Mt 7:7). The letter to James further qualifies this when he says “You do not possess because you do not ask. You ask but do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions” (James 4:2b-3).

What should we ask for and how do we ask rightly? The letter of James further tells us that in order to do this we must be “doers of the word and not hearers only” (1:22). We learn through many venues but the most powerful teachers of faith and love are the saints.

The saints are, in short, exemplary doers of the word. They stand as a model for us in courage, patience, and wise-counsel among other virtues. We are drawn to a truly holy person because it seems like that ‘have it together.’ They exemplify—it’s almost an aura—a love of God and a love of neighbor. This power and aura are displayed by the Apostles themselves. Look at see the circumstances of these examples:

+Phillip runs up to the Ethiopian eunuch reading Isaiah and says ‘Do you understand what you read?’ The man replies, ‘How can I, unless someone instructs me?’ Phillip, filled with the Holy Spirit, instructed him. The eunuch, himself moved by that same Spirit, sought to be baptized immediately. Phillip became a light to a man searching for Christ. (cf. Acts 8:26-40)

Philip instructing the Ethiopian eunuch, pointing to Scripture and pointing to God. His bodily presence and actions making it possible for this man to see both.

+Paul and Barnabas preached at Lystra and healed a crippled man. Their presence and power of spirit and speech drew a large crowd to them. The Greeks there took them to be the gods Zeus and Hermes and began to worship them. But Paul was distraught, saying to them ‘We are flesh and blood just as you are. We have done these works so you might turn from idols and false gods and turn to the living God.’ (cf Acts 14:8-20)

Paul and Barnabas (right) pleading that the Greeks stop worshiping them after healing a crippled man. Men are drawn to great power mixed with great humility, but here too Paul reminds them that they are flesh just as they are.

The Apostles, men moved by the Spirit, proclaimed God to their fellow men. But some men, those confused or unable to see God themselves, found Him through His servants. The living saints do this just as the Apostles did. Some do it through humble service and others through great and powerful works. Saints pray and then go forth having an impact on those around them.

Moving, then, to the blessed Virgin Mary and the saints of past ages, they intercede to Christ for us, asking Him more perfectly than we ever could what we need (this does not deny the Spirit does this for us too). This is because they live with God and have achieved oneness with Him after life here on this earth. For Christ Himself prayed that just as He and the Father were one that “they may also be in us, that the world may believe that you sent me” (Jn 17:21).

When we ask a saint living here on earth or in heaven to pray for us it is not an affront to Christ or the Spirit, rather it is an act of humility. It is an act of humility because we ask the very proper question “Lord, teach us how to pray just as John taught his disciples” (Lk 11:1). John the Baptist, one of the chief saints and prophets, taught his disciples to pray and how to live. A saint, in John’s image, lived these words perfectly: “He must increase, I must decrease” (Jn 3:30).

Thus, asking the saints for intercession is not ignorance of the power or mediation of Christ. The presence of the saints influenced many to virtue and faith. This is why Paul longs to be with the Corinthians in person and to “fill the deficiencies of your faith” (1 Thes 3:10).

In life the Apostles tirelessly labored for the sake of the faithful and even died for it. Their lives and examples alone filled the deficiencies of the faithful. Their faith and the faith of any saint, however, was not a source of pride. Rather they always pointed to Christ.

Peter, saying he would be unworthy to die as Christ did, was crucified upside down. The Cross itself points to heaven.

In the next section, I will discuss in what manner they pointed to Christ and how a saint effects the work of salvation in the world. I shall begin by looking at the Old Testament and then the New to show that this process is nothing new in the long history of faith. Having introduced saintly intercession it is good to see how the holy prophets interceded to God for the people of Israel. Thereafter I will elaborate on the communion of saints in heaven who work tirelessly on our behalf.

Faith and Works: Introduction

I. Introduction

For the average person, the debate of faith and works will change little in their lives with regard to how they live it out. Even still, I urge anyone who considers themselves a student of faith and of Christ to examine more closely the relationship of faith and works. The reason is not because I wish to change your faith or to suggest one good work over the other but rather that the way which we conceive a relationship between ideas affects those ideas.

I will give two analogies to help illustrate this:

A basketball coach conceives that defense wins games and because of this the offense of that team will proceed from the defense (e.g., turnovers lead to fast-break points, etc.). This is to say that the idea about defense builds the idea of the offense.

Tom Thibodeau, coach of the Chicago Bulls, prides his team on perfecting their defense first. The Bull's refined defense leads them to shutting down teams and winning even if they shoot 30% or score only 80-some points. Their offense depends on their (and the coach's) passion and vision for defense.

Likewise, when a man and a woman are married, one (or both) may have an image about what their marriage should look like, such as what a good husband/father/man does and what a good wife/mother/woman does. They make this image of what the relationship should strive for and they order their daily lives, thoughts, and actions to look like that idea and image—for good or ill.

Regardless of all the work that goes into the perfect photo, reception, and wedding, a couple gets married in order to live a full life together, a life of trials, periods of loneliness, difficulties, and disappointments just as much as they will experience joy, peace, and togetherness. The difficulty lies in the greater emphasis being placed on perfecting the beginning as opposed to perfecting each other along the way.

What I mean by these two analogies is that the way we look at faith and works are important. Where we may have an idea of faith and an idea of what (good) works are, the relationship between faith and works is a third idea added to these two. It is the nature of these ideas, so to speak, that I would like to write about for you.

As I considered the relationship between faith and works I found that the matter can be more difficult than it first appears because of the nature of faith. Faith can be a difficult subject for a few reasons. On the one hand faith is a very personal affair, for each one of us has experienced God in a particular way and we have grown in that relationship in various manners. On the other hand, the purpose of faith is unity, not just with God but with each other as well, for “I pray … that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they may also be in us, so that the world may believe that you sent me” (Jn 17:20, 21). Faith is furthermore described as “the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen” (Heb 11:1) which is related to ourselves as well as for the whole world. For why else would we pray, in faith, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven” if it wasn't for the hope that all might be as one? In the Old Testament the covenant was for a people of God. Whether the king of Israel sinned or the people sinned the whole land was afflicted with injustice and many other evils. Faith in Christ is the new covenant. Through that faith we are all connected. Far be it from me to suggest faith is impersonal, but I hope to show in addition to faith being deeply personal that faith is at its core equally communal.

This depicts Moses speaking to the children of Israel. All of them are intently focused on him. They receive one word and one people which has come from one God.

When I reflected on works I found that whether or not one believes in the efficacy of works for salvation it nevertheless follows that good works are preferable to evil ones. Further still, whether good works are inspired by the Spirit or come about as a result of personal effort (or both) they are often considered a sign and expression of faith. Works point toward that supreme Good toward which all men strive to varying degree. I do, however, still plan to speak on works as they pertain to Scripture and how they pertain to faith in greater detail.

My overall goal is to elaborate on the relationship of faith and works in a manner that neither diminishes nor emphasizes one over the other. In short, how shall we understand this passage by James? “You see that faith was active along with his works, and faith was completed by the works … See how a person is justified by works and not by faith alone” (James 2:22, 24).

With these introductory remarks being said I will move onto my investigation in subsequent pieces. I shall begin by moving away from directly speaking about this matter and instead focus on love. Perhaps if we examine love more closely we will see more clearly the matter at hand.

For next time:

“To Speak of these Things We Must Speak about Love”

The Workers and the Wheat

[Author's note: This is a very analogy-laden piece. I'm sure you would discover that. What I want to mention is that I hope you take careful not of the parallels I'm talking about here. I wrote this at about the same time as hierarchy. It's another example of my "evolved literature" style. No, it doesn't mean it's getting better, but what I do is hand-write everything first. When I begin typing (a day or two, even a week later) many new ideas, themes, and considerations enter my head and it expands the piece by 2-3x. I always try and keep the continuity in mind, but I may have failed in that respect. This was originally intended to be very simple and gentle but I hoped for a stronger tone in the middle. I hope you like it! ~ M]

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“You are God’s field” (1 Cor 3:9).

As I considered these words and the many comparisons made between the faithful and seeds, plants, and wheat I thought to myself, “How difficult it is to be the wheat!” Indeed, as the wheat we are dependant upon others and God for our own growth. But if the planter was wise and the cultivator good then the wheat flourishes. For “I [Paul] planted, Apollos watered, but God caused the growth. … [Neither of us is anything], but only God, who causes the growth. [But], the one who plants and the one who waters are equal, and reach will receive wages in proportion to his labor” (1 Cor 3:6-8).

Indeed, when the wheat flourishes it is kept and the laborers are honored. But if the wheat is sickly it is burned and the laborers rebuked for producing a weak crop. So too there are those who have given us our faith, those who have cultivated it, and those who safeguard it.

Children, do you not see how fickle your faith is? Yes, many of you and even me are like children who need “milk, not solid food, because [we are] unable to take it.” (1 Cor 3:2). Do you not see the gift you were given, and how easily it could have been taken away? How easily it could yet still be taken away? Your faith is not only an affirmation of God the almighty Father and thereafter you flourish. Your faith is a seed that needs careful cultivation and only in due time will it flourish.

The laborers deserve their wages. Whom have you paid?

Some of us were planted and cared for by words, deeds, and other examples. Parents, priests, and friends lived in a manner that did not make us lose heart. Truly they were like “a lamp shining in a dark place, until … the morning star [dawned] in your hearts” (2 Pet 2:19). But some of you, having been raised like this, left their example behind and refused cultivation. Does the wheat grow and care for itself or is it not at the mercy storms, pestilence, and other harms? Who will protect your faith? Certainly God protects His children, but does the wheat’s desire for life and flourishing guarantee it?

Others among you were sickly, living a life of pride, sloth, and many other vices. A laborer who had pity on your plight rescued you. Do you realize that your conversion was an act of grace on your behalf and grace working in the other as well? Or was not Paul converted by the grace of God acting on both him and Ananias? Many had to cooperate with God’s grace so you might experience it yourself. But many of us, like thoughtless wheat, did not know how our soil was prepared or who prepared it. When we reaped the many benefits of grace and revelation we thought ourselves initiated into a personal relationship and that this was all we needed. The wheat thought itself as existing (in its current state) by its faith and by the grace of God alone. Truly nothing grows toward God without Him, but the wheat here did not count himself as the fruit of many unseen labors. For recall that even the Enemy has sown weeds among us and the workers, picked by God, toil tirelessly and often unseen so you won’t be bundled among the weeds.

The laborers deserve their wages. Whom have you paid?

Who has God appointed as laborers? The seeds are not all men but “the good seed [are] the children of the kingdom” (Mt 13:38). The seeds sown are faith inspired and given freely by the Son of Man. But God also sent us laborers. He selected them from among the people to cultivate and harvest.

I do not say all these words to discourage you, but I say them so you might reflect more deeply on how great a gift the present moment is. For even if there are tempests in our own life, are not the love, memory, and example of good laborers (and the Good Shepherd Himself) who help us to persevere? And do we not have a history of good laborers in the saints (now) in heaven and our loved ones here on earth?

My friends, persevere when times are difficult and rejoice with God and His laborers when you flourish.

Truly, there are times when we must be laborers and we must emulate them by their tireless and quiet efforts to produce good crops. Other times we must be as the wheat, perfectly willing to be cultivated—humble, steadfast, obedient, and wholly dependent on the laborer. It is when we start growing (i.e., discovering our own calling and gifts) that we can often neglect cultivation. Do not lead yourselves to ruin.

Do not be deceived that either the laborer or the wheat is perfect. Do not both have faults within? Do not both face dangers on the outside too? All the same, both are honored when one cares for the wheat and that same wheat produces a great yield. Therefore when we neglect our own labors we are shamed by lack of a fruitful yield. When we reject cultivation (as living wheat) we produce little or nothing at all. Recall that even the one who works hard but sees little fruit grows himself by virtue of his hard work—do not be discouraged by proximate and immediate failures!

Sometimes we must work with rough soil and other times unsure hands guide us—but what benefit is it to not toil? What benefit is it to refuse growth?