Thursday, April 05, 2007
A thought on Holy Thursday
For a long time a personal slogan of mine has been based on Micah 6:8 -Act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God.
To me, that is justice tempered with mercy, not just some sense of fairness or fulfilling the legal letter of the law, and it says do mercy that goes beyond that sense of fairness, beyond minimum requirements, because of the desire to be in relationship with God.
In I John 4: 16, John says: God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God. Love can be a hard road to walk. But on Holy Thursday and Good Friday, we are given the evidence of how much God understands just what he is asking. Jesus walked it too...he knows our weaknesses, how frail the flesh can feel, how deep anguish can go. First hand he has experienced how bitter the dust is when you fall, how it hurts to be wronged, the helplessness when a victim of injustice, how it feels to know people hate you, want to kill you, what it’s like to be lied about and tortured and slandered and killed for political reasons. He himself did what he asks us to do.
We’ll fall from his standard from time to time and again, but he will pick us up if we let him, and help us dust off, and get back up the road.
And he tells us to do the same with those we come in contact with. Teaching by example.The love he demands of us isn't some spun sugar thing, hippie eyeglasses that see the world in rosy colors. The price he paid for this was heavy. The actions he expects of us are also heavy at times.
Love is seeing our fellow man as a child that God died to save, who has worth and value. Even if we don't like him, are frightened by him, or have been hurt by him. He showed us the way when he forgave the people who were putting him to death.
Love is forgiving, but forgiving doesn’t mean to abrogate your duties, to forget that the person you forgive for injuring you could be a danger, or a whole batch of silliness we seem to think love means.
Love means letting go of the hate. Love means to give up the reasons we use to treat our fellow as less than human. Love means to give up the prejudices, the hate chains we use to stop seeing a child beloved of God and create a lesser being.
Tonight, let us consider what he has done for us. And then in thankful admiration, pass on that gift wherever Christ leads us.
Labels: Following Jesus, Lenten meditations
Saturday, March 03, 2007
The Word of the Cross
One of my favorite passages in the writings of St. Paul is from 1 Corinthians 1:18-25
I found this article which is a good piece to think on this lent, just on what it means, the word of the cross:
The Word of the Cross
"The word of the Cross, to them that perish, is foolishness; but to them that are saved, that is to us, it is the power of God" (1 Cor. 1, 18).
THE woe and pain of Good Friday, its hope and grace, its message of sorrow and its message of salvation, are summarized and embodied in one sign-----the sign of the Cross. In pagan countries, when the missionary, after elementary instruction, erects the Cross, this symbol makes a powerful impression upon those who see it for the first time; they look up to it with timid reverence and feel themselves strangely attracted and at the same time repulsed.
We are accustomed to the Cross. From earliest childhood it has graven its outlines into the retina of our eye. We cannot recall when and where we saw it first. We encounter it everywhere-----at home, in church, in city and country, in many designs. Thus it has become an everyday sight and makes no special impression on us.
Today is precisely the day, therefore, to examine it closely once more and to allow it to influence our minds and hearts. Gaze upon the Cross. Can there be anything more simple than these two pieces of wood crossing each other, this upright beam to which the cross-beam is fitted at the intersection in the middle? Truly a simple, clear, and regular design. Yet it is the picture of the most striking contrast and contradiction, an eloquent symbol of pain, anguish, and death-----this bare tree, stripped of foliage and branches, with two mutilated stumps of arms. And again the Cross with its firmly knit and straight lines is a picture of strength and solidity, the image of power and of life.
As a picture of pain and death, as a picture of strength and life, the Cross was chosen and determined upon as an instrument of salvation. As a symbol of death and of life, it dominates the career of Jesus and must also dominate our lives. This is what I would like to demonstrate to you, and consequently my entire sermon today shall be summarized in one word, the word of the Cross, of which the Apostle says it is foolishness to them that perish, but the power of God to them that are saved, that is, to us. May it, through the grace of Him Who was crucified and through the intercession of His Sorrowful Mother, be unto us truly the power of God!
The Cross with its hard, rugged lines and its form so barren of comfort and joy, the Cross as a symbol of torture, does not merely dominate the last days of our Saviour's life; it overshadows His entire life. Now and then one sees pictures showing the boy Jesus, in childish yet significant play, in Joseph's workshop, shaping a cross out of sticks and showing it to His Mother or to little John. A pious fancy; but truth is that even the eye of the Child saw the Cross of Golgotha because that Child was endowed with omniscience. And Herod's threat of death, the flight into Egypt, life in exile, the poverty and lowliness in Nazareth-----those were shadows cast ahead by the Cross into the young life of the Saviour, and these shadows lay ever deeper and deeper on His public life and activity and weighed on His sensitive soul. He saw the Cross before Him, close up and sharply defined, in the Garden of Olives, and its sight filled Him with such distress and horror that His heart, throbbing wildly, forced the blood through the pores of His skin.
But the next day the Cross He has foreseen so long is brought forth, He takes it upon His shoulders and bears the heavy burden up to Golgotha, where He is nailed to the Cross. Now He is inseparably joined to it, wedded to it by that fatal torture which even the Romans, who were by no means sentimental, considered the most cruel and terrible method of execution. Never was it more cruel, never richer in pain, never carried out on a more tender or more sensitive organism. Spikes, proverbial for their size and temper, are used to fasten the body, already a mass of wounds as the result of the scourging and the crowning with thorns, and now a Martyrdom begins which surpasses all comprehension.
The unnumbered wounds, torn open at the disrobing, become inflamed on contact with the air; the pain they cause is increased beyond endurance. Four large additional wounds have been inflicted, and these wounds in the hands and feet must bear the entire weight of the body, and incessantly the sharp edges of the nails bore into and rend the tissues. The position of the body is insufferable, yet the slightest movement causes new pains. Not a moment of rest or relief. Wound upon wound. Member by member is tortured. Every muscle is stretched to the utmost and twisted. Then fever-heat, bathing the body in its flames, burning and seething in the wounds and, augmented by loss of blood, causing severe thirst.
And yet, extreme as this torture of the body is, that of the soul is even greater. For Jesus, the innocent, pure and most holy, suffering and death are not sweetened by the sense of innocence as is the case with so many Saints and Martyrs. For the death He is dying is not that of innocence, but of guilt. "Him, Who knew no sin, God hath made sin for us," the Apostle declares (2 Cor. v, 21). He is laden with the sins of an entire world. Therefore the beatifying consciousness of nearness to God departs from Him, and we hear Him calling out pitifully and in fear: "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me!"
St. Chrysostom declares that the death of the Cross was more than mere dying. It is a death in which the throes of pain, the distress, and the anguish of all who have died and who will yet die on earth are united into one. The Cross truly symbolizes the essence and the climax of all suffering and pain in the life of Jesus. It is an eloquent symbol of the most painful contrasts and contradictions. As the two beams stand out boldly one against the other, and cross each other in strikingly opposite lines, thus in the suffering and death of Jesus the greatest contrasts cross and intersect each other: heavenly innocence and frightful suffering in atonement of guilt; divine immortality and human mortality; the sin of mankind and the grace of God; the Divine majesty and man's disgrace and degradation; the sonship of God and man's abandonment by God.
But in being nailed to the Cross these contrasts become a blessing for humanity, being dissolved, eliminated, adjusted, and reconciled. Guilt is wiped out by innocence, sin conquered by grace, shame converted into glory, weakness into strength, suffering into victory, death into life.
At no time did the Saviour accomplish anything greater than on the Cross, where He was unable to move either hand or foot; never did He work greater wonders than when, covered with wounds, He hung on the cross. During His lifetime He raised men from the dead, healed the sick, pardoned individual sinners, enlisted a number of disciples, cast out devils here and there. But in His Passion and death He conquered Death itself, made atonement for sin, redeemed pain, triumphed over Hell, vanquished the world, and drew mankind unto Himself.
It was then that His kingship began-----His reign over the world from the Cross. It was then that He began to fulfill the prophecy: I, when I shall be raised up from earth, will draw all things unto Myself (Jn. xii, 32). This kingship endures through all the centuries and the power of attraction emanating from the Cross is the same today as it was at His death. The Cross itself has become something entirely different from what it was. Once a pillory, it is now the throne of a King; once an accursed tree, it is now a symbol of blessing; once an instrument of death, it is now a tree of life. Aye, this dead, bare, denuded tree of the Cross surpasses all trees of earth in intrinsic power to produce life, fullness of vigor, growth and fruitfulness. It has taken root everywhere and bears fruits of life. The word of the Cross indeed embraces much lowliness, torture, misery and weakness, but also and still more nobility and strength and victorious power. Therefore it is foolishness only to the fools that perish, but to them that are saved-----that is, to us-----it is the power of God.
But the life, the strength, the salvation of the Cross can be shared only by him who also shares it pain and burden. How shall we have a part in it? First, by compassionately bearing the sufferings of Jesus in our hearts; second, by bearing our own cross; and third, by crucifying our evil desires.
To have compassion with the Crucified Saviour has always been considered a sacred duty by Christians. This compassion is never lacking in the lives of the Saints. It has produced an abundance of devotions: the Way of the Cross, the devotion to the Five Wounds, that to the Most Precious Blood, the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary, etc. This compassion once filled the heart of Christ's Mother under the Cross. Each Good Friday it overwhelms the heart of the Church anew and wrings from it the stirring lamentations we heard today.
The wounds of the Saviour, with their bleeding lips, cry out: Have compassion with Him Who suffered so frightfully for you! The drops of blood seeping from the wounds demand one little tear of compassion. The glance of the glazing eyes, the thirsting mouth, plead for one little tear. Jesus does not demand this compassion for Himself, as though He were in need of it, but because you need it.
This compassion must establish the connection between you and His suffering. It is the silver tube leading the painful bitterness of His Passion from His wounds into your heart; but with the bitterness also its healing power. It is for this reason such compassion strengthens and sustains the soul, cleanses it, preserves it from sin, prompts good resolutions, enthuses it to great deeds and sacrifices.
But this compassion, this sorrowing with Christ must become real suffering with Christ, veneration of the Cross a real bearing of the cross. He demands it, and He demands it of all: "If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me" (Matt. xvi, 24). "He that taketh not up his cross and followeth Me, is not worthy of Me" (Matt. x, 38). This is the great law of His kingdom which all must obey without exception. "Christ having suffered in the flesh," the Prince of the Apostles admonishes us (1 Pet. iv, 1), "be you also armed with the same thought," that is, expect also to suffer and be as willing to suffer as He was. Accept all the great and small sufferings, cares, labors, trials of life as a cross which God has fashioned for you. Do not try to beg off or to shirk your duty; that would be of no avail. Be your cross yet so hard, and rough at the edges, and difficult to bear-----take it upon yourselves and bear it after Him, touch it to His cross by uniting yourselves to Him in the spirit of sacrifice, penance, patience, and resignation. If you do that, strength will flow like an electric current from the Cross of Christ into yours, and your burden will grow light. Now we come to the most difficult and the most necessary part of our task: to carry our cross is not sufficient; we must crucify the flesh, that is, the evil lust rooted and abiding in the flesh. It is of this duty that St. Paul speaks so frequently and emphatically: "They that are Christ's," he says, "have crucified their flesh with the vices and concupiscences" (Gal. v, 24); the old man must be crucified with Christ, that we may serve sin no longer, (Rom. vi, 6); of himself he says that he was nailed to the cross with Christ, and carried the mortification of Christ on his body; that the world had been
crucified to him and he to the world (Gal. ii, 19; vi, 14). Many Christians hear this message, but refuse to take it seriously. They consider such statements exaggerated figures of speech, or have an idea that they apply to religious and priests, but not to the laity. And because they do not regard them seriously, they fail to gain the mastery over concupiscence and become slaves to evil habits, which cause havoc in their lives and ultimately ruin them, body and soul.
No! The mortification and crucifixion of which the Apostle speaks is not an empty phrase, it is a serious duty incumbent on every Christian. When lust fires the flesh with impure images and desires and stirs the blood-----crucify it! crucify it! Think of the Saviour Who did penance in blood and wounds for the sins of the flesh, and raising your eyes to Him, out of love for Him and with His help suppress it, overcome it, mortify it! When sloth, indifference, aversion to prayer are about to cripple your strength and and oppress your soul-----crucify them! Gaze upon the Saviour Who did so much for you in the anguish and throes of death; for His sake, with His strength, arouse yourself, fulfill your religious obligations, work, strive, struggle for the salvation of your soul! If enmity, vengefulness, anger are about to set fire to your thoughts and emotions-----nail them to the cross! Think of the Saviour Who prayed on the Cross: "Father, forgive!" You, too, must forgive! If evil habits bind you with their fetters, despoil your life, and make it seemingly unbearable-----fly to the cross; pray Christ Crucified with all the strength of your soul to grant you the grace to extirpate your evil habits and to conquer them by good habits.
In this fashion must the tree of our life be trimmed with a keen knife and freed from the wild shoots, until it becomes like unto the tree of the Cross and one with it. Then life-giving sap from the Cross will flow into it, and only then will it be able to bear fruits of life, sweet-scented blossoms of joy and interior peace, and delicious fruits of good works, holy practices, glorious virtues-----blossoms and fruits which are not destroyed by death but have eternal life and bring eternal life. Amen.
Source:
THE PASSION
A Sheaf of Sermons Selected from the Writings of
RT. REV. PAUL WILHELM V. KEPPLER
LATE BISHOP OF ROTTENBURG
B. HERDER BOOK CO.
Nihil Obstat and Imprimatur, 1929
For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.
For it is written, "I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the cleverness of the clever I will thwart." Where is the wise man? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?
For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, it pleased God through the folly of what we preach to save those who believe. For Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.
For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men. RSV
I found this article which is a good piece to think on this lent, just on what it means, the word of the cross:
The Word of the Cross
"The word of the Cross, to them that perish, is foolishness; but to them that are saved, that is to us, it is the power of God" (1 Cor. 1, 18).
THE woe and pain of Good Friday, its hope and grace, its message of sorrow and its message of salvation, are summarized and embodied in one sign-----the sign of the Cross. In pagan countries, when the missionary, after elementary instruction, erects the Cross, this symbol makes a powerful impression upon those who see it for the first time; they look up to it with timid reverence and feel themselves strangely attracted and at the same time repulsed.
We are accustomed to the Cross. From earliest childhood it has graven its outlines into the retina of our eye. We cannot recall when and where we saw it first. We encounter it everywhere-----at home, in church, in city and country, in many designs. Thus it has become an everyday sight and makes no special impression on us.
Today is precisely the day, therefore, to examine it closely once more and to allow it to influence our minds and hearts. Gaze upon the Cross. Can there be anything more simple than these two pieces of wood crossing each other, this upright beam to which the cross-beam is fitted at the intersection in the middle? Truly a simple, clear, and regular design. Yet it is the picture of the most striking contrast and contradiction, an eloquent symbol of pain, anguish, and death-----this bare tree, stripped of foliage and branches, with two mutilated stumps of arms. And again the Cross with its firmly knit and straight lines is a picture of strength and solidity, the image of power and of life.
As a picture of pain and death, as a picture of strength and life, the Cross was chosen and determined upon as an instrument of salvation. As a symbol of death and of life, it dominates the career of Jesus and must also dominate our lives. This is what I would like to demonstrate to you, and consequently my entire sermon today shall be summarized in one word, the word of the Cross, of which the Apostle says it is foolishness to them that perish, but the power of God to them that are saved, that is, to us. May it, through the grace of Him Who was crucified and through the intercession of His Sorrowful Mother, be unto us truly the power of God!
The Cross with its hard, rugged lines and its form so barren of comfort and joy, the Cross as a symbol of torture, does not merely dominate the last days of our Saviour's life; it overshadows His entire life. Now and then one sees pictures showing the boy Jesus, in childish yet significant play, in Joseph's workshop, shaping a cross out of sticks and showing it to His Mother or to little John. A pious fancy; but truth is that even the eye of the Child saw the Cross of Golgotha because that Child was endowed with omniscience. And Herod's threat of death, the flight into Egypt, life in exile, the poverty and lowliness in Nazareth-----those were shadows cast ahead by the Cross into the young life of the Saviour, and these shadows lay ever deeper and deeper on His public life and activity and weighed on His sensitive soul. He saw the Cross before Him, close up and sharply defined, in the Garden of Olives, and its sight filled Him with such distress and horror that His heart, throbbing wildly, forced the blood through the pores of His skin.
But the next day the Cross He has foreseen so long is brought forth, He takes it upon His shoulders and bears the heavy burden up to Golgotha, where He is nailed to the Cross. Now He is inseparably joined to it, wedded to it by that fatal torture which even the Romans, who were by no means sentimental, considered the most cruel and terrible method of execution. Never was it more cruel, never richer in pain, never carried out on a more tender or more sensitive organism. Spikes, proverbial for their size and temper, are used to fasten the body, already a mass of wounds as the result of the scourging and the crowning with thorns, and now a Martyrdom begins which surpasses all comprehension.
The unnumbered wounds, torn open at the disrobing, become inflamed on contact with the air; the pain they cause is increased beyond endurance. Four large additional wounds have been inflicted, and these wounds in the hands and feet must bear the entire weight of the body, and incessantly the sharp edges of the nails bore into and rend the tissues. The position of the body is insufferable, yet the slightest movement causes new pains. Not a moment of rest or relief. Wound upon wound. Member by member is tortured. Every muscle is stretched to the utmost and twisted. Then fever-heat, bathing the body in its flames, burning and seething in the wounds and, augmented by loss of blood, causing severe thirst.
And yet, extreme as this torture of the body is, that of the soul is even greater. For Jesus, the innocent, pure and most holy, suffering and death are not sweetened by the sense of innocence as is the case with so many Saints and Martyrs. For the death He is dying is not that of innocence, but of guilt. "Him, Who knew no sin, God hath made sin for us," the Apostle declares (2 Cor. v, 21). He is laden with the sins of an entire world. Therefore the beatifying consciousness of nearness to God departs from Him, and we hear Him calling out pitifully and in fear: "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me!"
St. Chrysostom declares that the death of the Cross was more than mere dying. It is a death in which the throes of pain, the distress, and the anguish of all who have died and who will yet die on earth are united into one. The Cross truly symbolizes the essence and the climax of all suffering and pain in the life of Jesus. It is an eloquent symbol of the most painful contrasts and contradictions. As the two beams stand out boldly one against the other, and cross each other in strikingly opposite lines, thus in the suffering and death of Jesus the greatest contrasts cross and intersect each other: heavenly innocence and frightful suffering in atonement of guilt; divine immortality and human mortality; the sin of mankind and the grace of God; the Divine majesty and man's disgrace and degradation; the sonship of God and man's abandonment by God.
But in being nailed to the Cross these contrasts become a blessing for humanity, being dissolved, eliminated, adjusted, and reconciled. Guilt is wiped out by innocence, sin conquered by grace, shame converted into glory, weakness into strength, suffering into victory, death into life.
At no time did the Saviour accomplish anything greater than on the Cross, where He was unable to move either hand or foot; never did He work greater wonders than when, covered with wounds, He hung on the cross. During His lifetime He raised men from the dead, healed the sick, pardoned individual sinners, enlisted a number of disciples, cast out devils here and there. But in His Passion and death He conquered Death itself, made atonement for sin, redeemed pain, triumphed over Hell, vanquished the world, and drew mankind unto Himself.
It was then that His kingship began-----His reign over the world from the Cross. It was then that He began to fulfill the prophecy: I, when I shall be raised up from earth, will draw all things unto Myself (Jn. xii, 32). This kingship endures through all the centuries and the power of attraction emanating from the Cross is the same today as it was at His death. The Cross itself has become something entirely different from what it was. Once a pillory, it is now the throne of a King; once an accursed tree, it is now a symbol of blessing; once an instrument of death, it is now a tree of life. Aye, this dead, bare, denuded tree of the Cross surpasses all trees of earth in intrinsic power to produce life, fullness of vigor, growth and fruitfulness. It has taken root everywhere and bears fruits of life. The word of the Cross indeed embraces much lowliness, torture, misery and weakness, but also and still more nobility and strength and victorious power. Therefore it is foolishness only to the fools that perish, but to them that are saved-----that is, to us-----it is the power of God.
But the life, the strength, the salvation of the Cross can be shared only by him who also shares it pain and burden. How shall we have a part in it? First, by compassionately bearing the sufferings of Jesus in our hearts; second, by bearing our own cross; and third, by crucifying our evil desires.
To have compassion with the Crucified Saviour has always been considered a sacred duty by Christians. This compassion is never lacking in the lives of the Saints. It has produced an abundance of devotions: the Way of the Cross, the devotion to the Five Wounds, that to the Most Precious Blood, the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary, etc. This compassion once filled the heart of Christ's Mother under the Cross. Each Good Friday it overwhelms the heart of the Church anew and wrings from it the stirring lamentations we heard today.
The wounds of the Saviour, with their bleeding lips, cry out: Have compassion with Him Who suffered so frightfully for you! The drops of blood seeping from the wounds demand one little tear of compassion. The glance of the glazing eyes, the thirsting mouth, plead for one little tear. Jesus does not demand this compassion for Himself, as though He were in need of it, but because you need it.
This compassion must establish the connection between you and His suffering. It is the silver tube leading the painful bitterness of His Passion from His wounds into your heart; but with the bitterness also its healing power. It is for this reason such compassion strengthens and sustains the soul, cleanses it, preserves it from sin, prompts good resolutions, enthuses it to great deeds and sacrifices.
But this compassion, this sorrowing with Christ must become real suffering with Christ, veneration of the Cross a real bearing of the cross. He demands it, and He demands it of all: "If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me" (Matt. xvi, 24). "He that taketh not up his cross and followeth Me, is not worthy of Me" (Matt. x, 38). This is the great law of His kingdom which all must obey without exception. "Christ having suffered in the flesh," the Prince of the Apostles admonishes us (1 Pet. iv, 1), "be you also armed with the same thought," that is, expect also to suffer and be as willing to suffer as He was. Accept all the great and small sufferings, cares, labors, trials of life as a cross which God has fashioned for you. Do not try to beg off or to shirk your duty; that would be of no avail. Be your cross yet so hard, and rough at the edges, and difficult to bear-----take it upon yourselves and bear it after Him, touch it to His cross by uniting yourselves to Him in the spirit of sacrifice, penance, patience, and resignation. If you do that, strength will flow like an electric current from the Cross of Christ into yours, and your burden will grow light. Now we come to the most difficult and the most necessary part of our task: to carry our cross is not sufficient; we must crucify the flesh, that is, the evil lust rooted and abiding in the flesh. It is of this duty that St. Paul speaks so frequently and emphatically: "They that are Christ's," he says, "have crucified their flesh with the vices and concupiscences" (Gal. v, 24); the old man must be crucified with Christ, that we may serve sin no longer, (Rom. vi, 6); of himself he says that he was nailed to the cross with Christ, and carried the mortification of Christ on his body; that the world had been
crucified to him and he to the world (Gal. ii, 19; vi, 14). Many Christians hear this message, but refuse to take it seriously. They consider such statements exaggerated figures of speech, or have an idea that they apply to religious and priests, but not to the laity. And because they do not regard them seriously, they fail to gain the mastery over concupiscence and become slaves to evil habits, which cause havoc in their lives and ultimately ruin them, body and soul.
No! The mortification and crucifixion of which the Apostle speaks is not an empty phrase, it is a serious duty incumbent on every Christian. When lust fires the flesh with impure images and desires and stirs the blood-----crucify it! crucify it! Think of the Saviour Who did penance in blood and wounds for the sins of the flesh, and raising your eyes to Him, out of love for Him and with His help suppress it, overcome it, mortify it! When sloth, indifference, aversion to prayer are about to cripple your strength and and oppress your soul-----crucify them! Gaze upon the Saviour Who did so much for you in the anguish and throes of death; for His sake, with His strength, arouse yourself, fulfill your religious obligations, work, strive, struggle for the salvation of your soul! If enmity, vengefulness, anger are about to set fire to your thoughts and emotions-----nail them to the cross! Think of the Saviour Who prayed on the Cross: "Father, forgive!" You, too, must forgive! If evil habits bind you with their fetters, despoil your life, and make it seemingly unbearable-----fly to the cross; pray Christ Crucified with all the strength of your soul to grant you the grace to extirpate your evil habits and to conquer them by good habits.
In this fashion must the tree of our life be trimmed with a keen knife and freed from the wild shoots, until it becomes like unto the tree of the Cross and one with it. Then life-giving sap from the Cross will flow into it, and only then will it be able to bear fruits of life, sweet-scented blossoms of joy and interior peace, and delicious fruits of good works, holy practices, glorious virtues-----blossoms and fruits which are not destroyed by death but have eternal life and bring eternal life. Amen.
Source:
THE PASSION
A Sheaf of Sermons Selected from the Writings of
RT. REV. PAUL WILHELM V. KEPPLER
LATE BISHOP OF ROTTENBURG
B. HERDER BOOK CO.
Nihil Obstat and Imprimatur, 1929
Labels: Jesus Crucified, Lenten meditations
Friday, February 23, 2007
Conversion
Particularly appropriate is Jesus' exhortation, recorded by the Evangelist Mark: "Repent and believe in the Gospel" (Mark 1:15). The sincere desire for God leads us to reject evil and to do good. This conversion of the heart is above all a free gift of God, who created us for himself and has redeemed us in Jesus Christ: Our happiness consists in remaining in him (cf. John 15:3). For this reason, he himself anticipates our desire with his grace and supports our efforts of conversion.
But what does conversion really mean? Conversion means to seek God, to walk with God, to follow docilely the teachings of his Son, Jesus Christ; to be converted is not an effort to fulfill oneself, because the human being is not the architect of his own destiny. We have not made ourselves. Therefore, self-fulfillment is a contradiction and is too little for us. We have a higher destiny.
We could say that conversion consists precisely in not considering ourselves "creators" of ourselves, thus discovering the truth, because we are not authors of ourselves. Conversion consists in accepting freely and with love that we depend totally on God, our true Creator, that we depend on love. This is not dependence but liberty.
---Pope Benedict XVI, 2007
Seeking God is not particularly popular in this time and era. A lot of people practice "spirituality" designed to make themselves feel good about themselves, but that have little to connect themselves to God...instead it is often about being self-empowered, self-fulfilled, self-contained.
Yet to truly become transformed into the people we ought to be, the basis is not "Me," but "Thee," the relationship with the Other, God. And that cannot happen without conversion, turning away from ME to listening to God.
It is all about relationship, to love as we have been loved, to prepare ourselves for the coming of the Bridegroom who loves us above his own life. Through love, we can learn to be salt and light and leaven to a sad and hurt world, or rejecting that love, we can go down into a maelstrom of hate and anger and bitterness.
The spousal relationship is the metaphor God has long used to describe his relationship with us. Rejected, he comes seeking for us. Loving us, he allows us to return to him. He seeks us in the desert of our lives, and if we listen to his beguiling voice, he will turn us from being broken and lost into loved and transformed.
But we must listen. We must turn to him. God says of the lost soul, "Behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her. " (Hosea 2:14), but she must respond. God does not make us into puppets, doing whatever he says. He wants the response of our heart, and if we give it, we will have peace and joy, and be made into something we never expected.
That is being converted.
Now is the time to look at how willingly we are willing to let God convert us, how willing are we to let God into our lives, to see the areas we are keeping him at arm's length, and realizing what we are doing, open up our heart more fully to our Beloved.
Labels: Conversion, Lenten meditations, Spiritual Growth
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Prayer, Fasting and Mercy
some more great words on fasting, this time from St. Peter Chrysologus (5th century bishop of Ravenna, Italy)
If you want God to know that you are hungry, know that another is hungry - what a wonderful phrase. This brings me back to a passage in Isaiah 58:
If you look for kindness, show kindness. Jesus told us very clearly that there is a reciprocal relationship here: If we are not willing to forgive, we will not be forgiven. If we do not reach out to our brother in need, we are not doing what we ought to do to Jesus.
May this time of prayer and fasting waken in us the awareness of what Jesus has done for us, what we are doing for Jesus, and the reality of what it means to suffer and love, so that we can learn to "show mercy to others in the same way, with the same generosity, with the same promptness, as you want others to show mercy to you" for the glory of God.
Fasting is the soul of prayer, mercy is the lifeblood of fasting. Let no one try to separate them; they cannot be separated. If you have only one of them or not all together, you have nothing. So if you pray, fast; if you fast, show mercy; if you want your petition to be heard, hear the petition of others. If you do not close your ear to others you open God’s ear to yourself.
When you fast, see the fasting of others. If you want God to know that you are hungry, know that another is hungry. If you hope for mercy, show mercy. If you look for kindness, show kindness. If you want to receive, give. If you ask for yourself what you deny to others, your asking is a mockery.
Let this be the pattern for all men when they practise mercy: show mercy to others in the same way, with the same generosity, with the same promptness, as you want others to show mercy to you.
If you want God to know that you are hungry, know that another is hungry - what a wonderful phrase. This brings me back to a passage in Isaiah 58:
Going through the motions is meaningless. Fasting as a ritual is meaningless unless we have the right spirit. Fasting reminds us of what we do not have, and in turn should remind us of what our brother does not have. If our brother is in need, and we don't care, what good is it if we are depriving ourselves?
`Why have we fasted, and thou seest it not? Why have we humbled ourselves, and thou takest no knowledge of it?'
Behold, in the day of your fast you seek your own pleasure, and oppress all your workers.
Behold, you fast only to quarrel and to fight and to hit with wicked fist. Fasting like yours this day will not make your voice to be heard on high.
Is such the fast that I choose, a day for a man to humble himself? Is it to bow down his head like a rush, and to spread sackcloth and ashes under him? Will you call this a fast, and a day acceptable to the LORD?
Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke?
(Isaiah 58: 3-6 RSV)
If you look for kindness, show kindness. Jesus told us very clearly that there is a reciprocal relationship here: If we are not willing to forgive, we will not be forgiven. If we do not reach out to our brother in need, we are not doing what we ought to do to Jesus.
May this time of prayer and fasting waken in us the awareness of what Jesus has done for us, what we are doing for Jesus, and the reality of what it means to suffer and love, so that we can learn to "show mercy to others in the same way, with the same generosity, with the same promptness, as you want others to show mercy to you" for the glory of God.
Labels: Following Jesus, Lenten meditations, Spiritual Growth
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Ash Wednesday thoughts: On Fasting by St. John Chrysostom
We have this fast as an ally, and as an assistant in this good intercession.
When the winter is over and the summer is appearing, the sailor draws his vessel to the deep; and the soldier burnishes his arms, and makes his horse ready for the battle; and the farmer sharpens his sickle; and the traveller boldly undertakes a long journey, and the wrestler strips and bares himself for competition.
So when the fast makes its appearance, like a kind of spiritual summer, let us like soldiers polish our weapons; and like farmers, let us sharpen our sickle; and like sailors, let us order our thoughts against the waves of extravagant desires; and as travellers let us set out on the journey towards heaven; and as wrestlers let us strip for the contest. For the believer is at once a farmer, and a sailor, and a soldier, a wrestler, and a traveller. Hence St. Paul saith, "We wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers. Put on therefore the whole armour of God."
Have you watched the wrestler? Have you watched the soldier? If you are a wrestler, it is necessary to engage in the conflict naked. If a soldier, you must stand in the battle line armed at all points. How then are both these things possible, to be naked, and yet not naked; to be clothed, and yet not clothed! How? I will tell you.
Divest yourself of worldly business, and you will have become a wrestler. Put on the spiritual armour, and you will have become a soldier. Strip yourself of worldly cares, for the season is one of wrestling. Clothe yourself with the spiritual armour, for we have a heavy warfare to wage with demons.
Therefore it is necessary we should be naked, so as to offer nothing that the devil may take hold of, while he is wrestling with us; and to be fully armed at all points, so as on no side to receive a deadly blow. Cultivate your soul. Cut away the thorns. Sow the word of godliness. Propagate and nurse with much care the fair plants of divine wisdom, and you will have become a farmer. And Paul will say to you, "The farmer that works must be first partaker of the fruits. He too himself practised this art. Therefore writing to the Corinthians, he said, "I have planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase."
Sharpen your sickle, which you have blunted through gluttony-- sharpen it by fasting. Lay hold of the pathway which leads towards heaven; rugged and narrow as it is, lay hold of it, and journey on. And how are you able to do these things? By subduing your body, and bringing it into subjection.
For when the way grows narrow, the corpulence that comes of gluttony is a great hindrance. Keep down the waves of inordinate desires. Repel the tempest of evil thoughts. Preserve the ship; display much skill, and you will have become a pilot. But we shall have the fast for a groundwork and instructor in all these things.
From 21 Homilies on the Statues, Homily 3
_____
I look forward to Lent because it is a time blessed to strive to be ever closer to God...I was going to write something about why I like it, but St. John Chrysostom says it so well why it is good.
A link to writings by this great saint can be found here
When the winter is over and the summer is appearing, the sailor draws his vessel to the deep; and the soldier burnishes his arms, and makes his horse ready for the battle; and the farmer sharpens his sickle; and the traveller boldly undertakes a long journey, and the wrestler strips and bares himself for competition.
So when the fast makes its appearance, like a kind of spiritual summer, let us like soldiers polish our weapons; and like farmers, let us sharpen our sickle; and like sailors, let us order our thoughts against the waves of extravagant desires; and as travellers let us set out on the journey towards heaven; and as wrestlers let us strip for the contest. For the believer is at once a farmer, and a sailor, and a soldier, a wrestler, and a traveller. Hence St. Paul saith, "We wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers. Put on therefore the whole armour of God."
Have you watched the wrestler? Have you watched the soldier? If you are a wrestler, it is necessary to engage in the conflict naked. If a soldier, you must stand in the battle line armed at all points. How then are both these things possible, to be naked, and yet not naked; to be clothed, and yet not clothed! How? I will tell you.
Divest yourself of worldly business, and you will have become a wrestler. Put on the spiritual armour, and you will have become a soldier. Strip yourself of worldly cares, for the season is one of wrestling. Clothe yourself with the spiritual armour, for we have a heavy warfare to wage with demons.
Therefore it is necessary we should be naked, so as to offer nothing that the devil may take hold of, while he is wrestling with us; and to be fully armed at all points, so as on no side to receive a deadly blow. Cultivate your soul. Cut away the thorns. Sow the word of godliness. Propagate and nurse with much care the fair plants of divine wisdom, and you will have become a farmer. And Paul will say to you, "The farmer that works must be first partaker of the fruits. He too himself practised this art. Therefore writing to the Corinthians, he said, "I have planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase."
Sharpen your sickle, which you have blunted through gluttony-- sharpen it by fasting. Lay hold of the pathway which leads towards heaven; rugged and narrow as it is, lay hold of it, and journey on. And how are you able to do these things? By subduing your body, and bringing it into subjection.
For when the way grows narrow, the corpulence that comes of gluttony is a great hindrance. Keep down the waves of inordinate desires. Repel the tempest of evil thoughts. Preserve the ship; display much skill, and you will have become a pilot. But we shall have the fast for a groundwork and instructor in all these things.
From 21 Homilies on the Statues, Homily 3
_____
I look forward to Lent because it is a time blessed to strive to be ever closer to God...I was going to write something about why I like it, but St. John Chrysostom says it so well why it is good.
A link to writings by this great saint can be found here
Labels: Lenten meditations, Ways of Holiness
Monday, February 19, 2007
Preparing for the Lenten Journey
Dear brothers and sisters, let us look at Christ pierced in the Cross! He is the unsurpassing revelation of God's love, a love in which eros and agape, far from being opposed, enlighten each other. On the Cross, it is God Himself who begs the love of His creature: He is thirsty for the love of every one of us. The Apostle Thomas recognized Jesus as "Lord and God" when he put his hand into the wound of His side. Not surprisingly, many of the saints found in the Heart of Jesus the deepest expression of this mystery of love. One could rightly say that the revelation of God's eros toward man is, in reality, the supreme expression of His agape. In all truth, only the love that unites the free gift of oneself with the impassioned desire for reciprocity instills a joy, which eases the heaviest of burdens. Jesus said: "When I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all men to myself" (Jn 12:32). The response the Lord ardently desires of us is above all that we welcome His love and allow ourselves to be drawn to Him. Accepting His love, however, is not enough. We need to respond to such love and devote ourselves to communicating it to others. Christ "draws me to Himself" in order to unite Himself to me, so that I learn to love the brothers with His own love.
Pope Benedict XVI, from his Lenten Message, 2007
We are dust, shaped by a God who loves us, loves us enough to die miserably for us, to draw us, to cleanse us, to teach us the ways of love. Do we hear the voice of our Beloved calling us as he gives his all? In the Orthodox tradition, Jesus scourged and crowned is called the Bridegroom. Look what he has done to be ready for his Bride, to prepare his Bride for their life together...he gave everything.
Now is the time to look into our hearts and see how we should respond to that amazing love.
Labels: Following Jesus, Lenten meditations, Love
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