August 4 2019

There are two ways to get enough,” G.K. Chesterton once said. “One is to continue to
accumulate more and more. The other is to desire less.”

My father taught me so much about avoiding the trap of storing up treasures on earth.
Growing up poor in a family of nine children at the end of the Great Depression, he
learned early, especially through his mother, Grandma Mary, that investments in people
are what make us rich. Though Grandma died before I was born, Dad, her youngest
son, shared often about her excellent cooking and kind hospitality, and how she always
made room for the stranger — an extra cousin or someone just needing a meal or
conversation.

Often, when I felt that we, too, were poor, he’d remind me of how much we had in
comparison to so many. In a sense, my father, who was an active alcoholic for many
years before his recovery, died in physical poverty. Having relinquished his career as an
English teacher to addiction, he depended on my mother’s income the better part of his
life, and his possessions were few. What little he and my mother did have was burned in
a house fire six years before his death.

However, he had us, and having returned to his Catholic faith after 35 years of
estrangement, he also had God. The treasures he’d stored up were anonymous
donations to needy families when he did have extra cash, kindness to the lonely who
passed in and out of his life on the Fort Peck Reservation in Montana, the love of family,
and faith. When he passed, with my sister and me at his side, Dad left behind a single
tear, perhaps a symbol of his gratitude for leaving this world wealthy, not in possessions
but in love.
August 11 2019
Today’s Gospel paints a scary picture. I can think of nothing more frightening than to be
sound asleep in my bed and be awakened by a strange noise. Imagine a burglar
breaking into your house. If only I had known, I would have turned on flood lights, had
my cell-phone in hand, and bolted the door.

It just so happens that today is the memorial to St. Clare, holy friend of St. Francis and
founder of the Poor Clares. One Friday in September, 1240, Clare lay in her bed, having
been an invalid for six years. It was noon and she heard the sister bustling in the kitchen
preparing lunch. Suddenly, in broad daylight, Saracen soldiers scaled the wall, intent on
doing grave harm to the sisters. Clare sat up in bed. All the sisters huddled around her,
trembling with fear.

First, she comforted her sisters, not thinking of herself. “Do not be afraid, because the
Lord is with us.” As the enemy drew closer, the sisters helped her into the kitchen. She
asked one of the sisters to bring her a small box containing the Blessed Sacrament.
Next, she threw herself prostrate and prayed, totally dependent on God’s mercy.
Miraculously, she heard a mystical voice assuring her that no harm would come. Soon
afterward, the Saracens retreated over the convent walls.

St. Clare prayed always, in good times and bad. When invaders climbed over the
convent walls, she was ready. She did not panic. In times of trouble, prayer, concern for
others, and the Blessed Sacrament all formed her rock of refuge.
August 18 2019
Have you ever longed so desperately to draw a loved one back to Christ that you
wanted to shake them? Today’s Gospel finds Jesus declaring, “I have come to cast fire
upon the earth, and would that it were already kindled!”

So often, in Scripture, God is described as “a consuming fire” that burns for love of us.
Images of the Sacred Heart are alight with flames. No milquetoast Savior, Our Jesus;
He burns, and He calls us to burn, too. The impatience of Jesus to save the people He
has called his “little flock” (Luke 12:32) is full of urgency and compassion. He longs to
kindle the spark of His own divine life in each of them, to awaken in them the connection
that will liberate their souls and heal their lives. Yet, He promises conflict.

He goes on to warn that within our own families, there will be division, with “father
against son … mother against daughter … mother-in-law against daughter-in-law.” It is
achingly familiar to many of us, this picture of family life. Hampered by sin and blinded
by pride, we live that separation on a daily basis.

But in Jesus we encounter a thrilling, supernatural hope. Out of the clash of ideologies,
wills, and wants, a Christ-like response can send sparks of sacrificial love into the
atmosphere of our homes, to catch fire in our hearts, and burn away the darkness.
Instead of defensiveness, He inspires us to listen graciously and humbly. In place of
anger, He offers a courageous compassion that looks for the good in others and draws
it out. And in the glow of His grace outpoured through us, a longing for unity in our
families lights a path back to Jesus.
 August 25 2019
How disappointed I would be if I assumed that I would be let into the Kingdom, only to
hear the words, “I do not know where you are from. Depart from me!”

This was part of the response Jesus gave when asked if only a few would be saved. He
also stressed that we should strive to go through the narrow gate.

The wide gate is the easy gate, the gate chosen by those who assume that since they
know of Jesus, they will be saved. But it’s not enough to know about Jesus; we must
know Him! And to know Him is to imitate Him, taking His narrow, difficult way – not the
easy way.

He finishes this Gospel message with the statement that some of the last will be first,
and some of the first will be last. Does this seem fair?

Maybe not, but think of so many of Jesus’ messages that turn principles on their heads.
The workers chosen to work in the vineyard last received the same wage as those who
worked all day (Mt. 20:1-16). Jesus welcomed the outcasts, not the well-to-do; “Those
who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do,” was Jesus’ reply to those who
grumbled that Jesus ate with sinners (Mt. 9:9-13). And then, His famous Beatitudes:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven,” and so on (Mt. 5:3-
12).

If we choose to follow the world, rather than Jesus, we may end up on our heads — or
outside the door knocking. But if we choose the narrow gate – His way — we will be
safe!

Jesus’ way always went against the tide, and if that means going in the opposite
direction of the secular world, we will be blessed and saved.
 September 1 2019
My husband and I entered the reception hall with the other wedding guests, searching
the seating chart for our assigned table. We had traveled many miles for this wedding of
the daughter of our dear friends, but we had not seen them for many years, as we lived
on opposite coastlines. As we scanned the chart, we assumed we would be at a table
with some friends or relatives, tucked in a back corner, celebrating the joy of the newly
married couple. We both did a double-take when we saw our assigned seats. We were
to sit at the table with the parents of the bride and groom! Surely there were other
guests who “deserved” these seats more than us — everyone had traveled far for this
international wedding. We had done nothing exceptional to gain these seats of honor.
What a humbling, grace-filled invitation!

Grace is like that — filling us with joy and “unearned” love. Jesus chastises the
Pharisees for their showy displays of pride. He tells them to invite those who can never
“repay” them.

How fortunate we are to have Jesus as the Host of our heavenly banquet. Each time we
come to the Eucharistic table of the altar, we are the poor, the crippled, the lame, the
blind. We can never repay our Host for this great sacrificial feast. All our efforts to do so
will fall short. But all our meager efforts will be looked upon by our Host with great love
and affection. He invites us to come. He is grateful for our presence. He seats us at a
place of honor and asks nothing in return. Let us go with grateful hearts.
September 8 2019
The subtitle of Luke 14:25-33 in my Bible, reads, “Discipleship Tested”. What a perfect
title for a reflection on the day we celebrate (or we would, if it wasn’t a Sunday this year)
the birthday of the greatest disciple, Mary.

This verse includes phrases such as “carry your own cross”, “come after me”, “calculate
the cost”, “consider if you are strong enough” … all before taking the risk. My discipleship
journey began as a response to fear. If this God stuff were true, then I wanted to at least
have perfect Mass attendance to present at the pearly gates.
I had unwittingly played into Pascal’s wager. I’d come to choose a Christian life because
the eternal consequence of not following Christ seemed too risky. In the beginning, it
was fear that had me hedging my bets with Christ — not love.
I attended Mass because I’d been taught it was an obligation necessary for entering
Heaven, or more in line for my thinking, avoiding Hell. The abundant blessings of
participating in this grand banquet was completely lost in my ignorance of the Catholic
faith. I simply didn’t know what I didn’t know about following being a Catholic and
following Christ. At first, maintaining my resolve on this choice was very difficult. This
path felt riddled with regulations and restrictions instead of the graces and blessings
choosing Christ actually offers.

The Mass, I have learned is a foretaste of Heaven, and that only Jesus offers true and
lasting joy, peace, hope, and most of all, unfailing love. As I tested the waters of
discipleship, some days offering the bare minimum, Jesus in return blessed my efforts.

My wisdom and understanding continue to be strengthened. The risk has come with
blessings beyond measure and I believe will culminate in a reward my heart cannot
even begin to fathom.
September 15 2019
A wife told his Godly husband: “Don’t mingle anymore with our neighbors for they are
drunkards and sinful.” The husband told his wife, “If I would not mingle with them
how could I convince them to walk away from their sinful lives and how could I show
them that God still cares for them?” Oftentimes we are like that wife we feel that we
are more holy and less sinful than others but that is far from the truth.

Holier than thou and feeling of self-righteousness these were the attitudes of the
Pharisees and the scribes. When they complained that Jesus was mingling with tax
collectors and sinners.

So, Jesus gave them three parables for them to realize that He doesn’t discriminate,
that His love, forgiveness and mercy is for everyone. The Lord looks for and welcomes
everyone no matter how sinful and poor. This is also the message of Jesus for us all
sinners thru these parables in the gospel.

In the first parable, the shepherd of the hundred sheep did not stop looking for the
one who got lost. Never minding to temporarily leave the ninety-nine. And after
finding the one that got lost he joyfully put it on his shoulders to bring it home. In the
second parable of the lost coin, the woman searched diligently for the lost coin until
she found it again.

In the third parable of the lost son, when the lost son had a realization of his
misdeeds. He humbly decided to go back home, not certain if his father would accept
him again. But lo and behold when his father saw him coming home he ordered his
people to prepare a big banquet for the lost son. Then, the father full of love run to
his repentant son embraced and kissed him as if saying, “Everything is forgiven my
son.”

God in His infinite love, mercy and forgiveness is always looking for us sinners. Why?
Because the Lord wants us to completely walk away from our sinful life. The Lord
wants us to live a new life completely free from any form of sin.
September 22 2019
“No servant can serve two masters. He will either hate one and love the other, or be
devoted to one and despise the other.” (Luke 16: 13a)

I apply this verse by envisioning one side of my heart labeled “Jesus”; and the other
side labeled “Self.” Practically speaking, Self is master when — instead of allowing God
to direct a choice — I permit some person, object or activity to do so. In that situation,
the person, object or activity is functioning as an idol for me. When I am pushing my
own agenda, my choices revolve around the idols. Self is in charge. God is left out of
the picture.

Some of my personal idols relate to activities of self-comfort. For example, I will attempt
to appear politically correct because I seek the comfort of “fitting in” or of “not rocking
the boat.” When I zip my lip to avoid saying why the Church opposes gay marriage, who
is actually functioning as my master? Is this what God wants? Or is Self in the driver’s
seat?

Yes, such battles rage within my heart, and sometimes I capitulate to the mastery of
Self. I am so thankful that the God who calls me to holiness bends over backwards to
help me. He pours out grace and strength through so many means: personal prayer, the
Rosary, Adoration, the Sacraments, intercession of Guardian Angels, Mother Mary and
the saints, and so much more. If, day after day, I do my part by availing myself of these
provisions, our Savior will complete in me the good work He has begun. More and
more, I will serve Him as my only Master, in every choice I make.
September 29 2019
I stand in the confessional line scanning my soul for sins — slim pickings, as usual. I
wrack my brain for something, anything to confess. The door to the box opens, a
penitent exits, and we all move up a spot. Time is running out. Surely I can find one itty-
bitty sin. After all, I do have a fallen human nature. At Mass I admit that I have greatly
sinned “in my thoughts, and in my words, in what I have done and in what I have failed
to do.” Those last seven words are a wake up call.

Today’s reading is about indifference. The rich man does not see Lazarus at all. When
time runs out, the rich man wakes up in Hades, but it is too late. Will Abraham warn his
five brothers? “If someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.”

Charles Dickens might have read this passage and conjured up Jacob Marley, who
rattles his ghostly chains and warns Ebenezer Scrooge to repent. In this parable, Jesus
sends no Jacob Marley. He knows that the five brothers are indifferent to Moses,
indifferent even “if someone should rise from the dead”.

I think of this parable and reflect on my next-door neighbor. She is a victim of domestic
violence. I see her in the driveway. I stand on the porch and shake a dust mop. I start to
go inside, saying nothing. Instead, I wake up and shout a friendly hello. I bring her a
glass jar of homemade granola and chat, getting up the courage to invite her to dinner.
She smiles and gives me a hug.

The confessional door opens. It is my turn. I have much to confess, for I am a sinner,
lukewarm to God and lukewarm to my neighbor.

October 6 2019
Were the apostles lacking in faith, that’s why they asked Jesus to increase their faith?
Yes, they were already lacking in faith otherwise they would have not asked Jesus. Are
you sometimes tempted to ask the Lord for an increase of faith as well?
Diminishing faith is an ever present danger in our relationship with Jesus. Most
especially today where our faith in God is severely being tested by the enormous trials
that we face. Does faith in God still matters today wherein smart phones, gadgets and
the internet rules? Of course! Notwithstanding the modernity of our time our faith in
Jesus still matters now more than any other time.

Our life today is full of challenges and problems. There is always that danger that these
challenges and problems might overwhelm us. And it may lead us to believe that there
is no God. But there is a God and we believe in this God.

Jesus answer to His apostles desire for an increase of faith is very deep and interesting.
He told His apostles, “If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you would say to this
mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea, and it would obey you.

We all know that a mustard seed is tiny or small when it’s planted. However, when it’s
nurtured it grows big. Perhaps, the Lord is telling us that from now on begin to nurture
the faith that you have in your heart right now. It does not matter how small that faith is
what is important is you nurture it so that it could grow big.

How are you going to nurture this tiny faith? You have to nurture it through your
presence at Holy Mass. You have to nurture it by being faithful to the teachings of Jesus
and you have to nurture this faith by your actual acts of faith.

October 13 2019
Today’s readings feature two foreigners suffering from leprosy: Naaman, the army
commander of the king of Aram, and a man from Samaria. Both were miraculously
healed by the God of Israel—Naaman, through the prophet Elisha, and the Samaritan,
by Jesus. And both recognized it: Naaman pledged not to offer sacrifice “to any other
god except to the Lord” (2 Kings 5:17), and the Samaritan was the only one of his
company to return to thank Jesus (Luke 17:15). g stories contrast these foreigners’ faith
with the complacency of God’s people.
These readings underscore the truth that God is the God of all the nations, not just of
Israel. Even in the Old Testament, foreigners sometimes acknowledged Israel’s God as
their own. When Jesus was preaching in his hometown of Nazareth, he pointed out that
God had chosen not the “insiders,” but Naaman and the widow in Zarephath to whom
he sent his prophets (Luke 4:25-27). In a similar way, Jesus praised the faith of the
Samaritan who returned to thank him. It seems that God sometimes uses outsiders to
shake up the people on the inside who may have grown complacent about their faith.

God can still use people on the periphery to open our eyes and give us a different
perspective. For example, a person who comes to Mass for the first time may have lots
of questions. As someone who has been attending Mass for years, you might have
taken such rituals and prayers for granted. But now you dig a little deeper to learn more
about the liturgy. Or suppose you become friendly with a Christian from another tradition
who isn’t shy about praying with people. He might show you how to be bolder in prayer.

We can all benefit from a different perspective. So get to know people outside your
normal circles. God just might have something important to show you through them.

“Jesus, thank you for all the people who help me to grow in my faith.”