Duty is gift

I wrote this post a couple years ago and just looked it up as I put together my talk for the next session in our Lenten Series.  This "duty is gift" idea has really transformed how I understand vocation and the sacrament of the present moment. It has greatly increased my ability to discover joy in ordinary time. I hope it will be a blessing!

***

"Yet, O Lord, you are our Father;
we are the clay, and you are our potter;
we are the work of your hand."  Isaiah 64:8

I have been tripping up over the idea of "duty". This stubborn resistance to being told what to do. I have this association with oppression (okay, that's extreme) or unfortunate, toilsome obligation.  Mainly I suddenly recognized that I have been thinking of the execution of duty as something that I must begrudgingly do to repay God for all His providential goodness or in hopes of meriting a future reward. And though I don't like a lot of the things I am supposed to do, mostly because I don't feel very adept at doing them, I do them and hopefully can motivate myself enough with the thought of who will be benefited and how (ho-hum) it will please God, so boo-hoo, sigh and get on with it. 

It's like, I strongly want to love God with all I've got, I want to love others 'til my heart bursts and doing my duties is some burden I must carry out begrudgingly to fulfill those two commandments.

Except I'm totally wrong.

1) I am nothing. I have nothing but the gifts that God gives me out of love for me. From the air I breathe, the heart that pumps blood through my arteries, for those arteries themselves, to the family in my care, the roof over my head, the rivers and mountains that fill my scenery. Existence itself, awareness itself, nothing apart from Him

2) I can do nothing in my own power. I can not fulfil any of these duties by my own ability. If I am "good" at something, it is because He has given me this talent. If I am "bad" at something, well, I guess He's lovingly withholding that ability from me right now. Maybe He's giving me the gift of an opportunity to patiently develop some perseverance in learning a new skill or fumbling through. Lovingly calling me to accept the challenge of improvement. Maybe He's teaching me humility in reminding me of my nothingness. Doesn't matter why. I just trust that He is all and I am naught.

3)  God is love. If we are chosen to follow Him it is only that He can use us to co-labour with His plan of love for others.

4) That we are chosen is a gift.  Thus, that we are invited to co-labour is a gift. 

Thus, every ordinary duty  from flossing my kids' teeth, to scrubbing the toilet, to making dinner, to picking up dirty tissues for the zillionth time that day is  actually the gift of God giving me the freedom to choose to co-labour with Him in giving of myself in that little task. Every word of encouragement of act of compassion or duty I perform is not counted as some good I've done, merited to me, but yet another gift from God, merited to His glory: the grace to participate in His labour of love. My good-deeds magnify Him, not me.

So wait, do good works then and obedience have a role in salvation?

Of course.

Because isn't salvation to abide with Him? To be free to worship Him without fear, holy and righteous in His sight? To be in His presence, eternally loving and praising Him?  And  because I'm guessing salvation is not linear temporally - Heaven after death, but beyond space and time, then every YES to some ordinary duty is His gift to us to enter into His will. Every duty I freely assent to co-labour in is an immersion in his merciful love for me, salvation.

So, with that I will joyfully, and with great thanksgiving embrace my housework, my kids' squabbles, and all the other beautiful opportunities to love Him and lose myself. 

"It is our duty and our salvation, always and everywhere, to give Him thanks."

Reflection on the Transfiguration

For the next four Sundays I will be leading an adult catechesis series in my Parish.  Each week we'll be reflecting on the previous Sunday's Gospel and our pastor's excellent homilies.  I've decided to share these here so that others may follow along. If you're interested I can send you a copy of the homily, just leave me a comment or email me.-->

 Here is my reflection for last week's Gospel account of the Transfiguration.  May it be a blessing.

***

Let us pray.

Father, we thank You for this day which You have made and have given us.  Thank You for this and every opportunity we have to gather together here to praise Christ in whom we place our hope and our fidelity.  We ask You to bless each one of us here with your abundant grace that we may grow in wisdom and knowledge from our time here and increase in faith, hope, and charity.  Open our hearts and our minds to receive what is   Bless our time here together this morning that in the spirit of this Lenten season we will be drawn ever nearer to You, O Lord. 

Jesus, I trust in You.

Our Father, who art in Heaven, Hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven.  Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.  And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil, Amen.

This is the journey.

We were created by God to be beloved sons and daughters; to enjoy Him and abide with Him; to love, adore, and glorify Him forever.  To abide in Him, to trust Him completely, to walk with Him, to know Him and to know His presence.

But sin, along with disobedience, doubt, and distrust of God entered the world as did death.  We became alienated from our Creator, our Father, our God.

But God came to us, the Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us!  He came in the person of Jesus to be one of us.  He loved us so much and He really wanted us to know who He was so we would believe in Him, believe in His promises, that we would trust in Him, and could have eternal life.

Jesus showed us the Father.

Jesus taught us to obey Him.

Jesus, by His passion and crucifixion, conquered the stranglehold that sin and death held over us.  Christ is indeed victorious.

But how can we say that Christ has triumphed over sin, suffering, and death when it’s obviously still very much a part of this world?

We are stuck in the reality that we are made for eternity; for happiness and union with our God, but we are living in a world that is broken; full of sin, pain, suffering and death.  As Christians we do our best to avoid sin and we repent and seek forgiveness when we do, we certainly try to make this world a better, more loving place, we strive to reduce the pain and suffering we see in others.  Yet, we ourselves still experience pain, suffering, and death.  Jesus himself experienced the ultimate in pain, suffering, and death, furthermore, Jesus promises us that if we are to follow him we will be required to pick up our crosses and embrace suffering and death.  In the first letter to the Corinthians it says that Christ crucified is folly to the Greek and a stumbling block to the Jews.   Before he became Pope, Benedict XVI reiterated that this is because there can be no love without suffering.

“Anyone who really wanted to get rid of suffering would have to get rid of love before anything else, because there can be no love without suffering, because it always demands an element of self-sacrifice, because, given temperamental differences and the drama of situations, it will always bring with it renunciation and pain….When we know that the way of love–this exodus, this going out of oneself–is the true way by which man becomes human, then we also understand that suffering is the process through which we mature. Anyone who has inwardly accepted suffering becomes more mature and more understanding of others, becomes more human. Anyone who has consistently avoided suffering does not understand other people; he becomes hard and selfish.”

(From: “God and the World: A conversation with Peter Seewald” 2002)

What really stands out to me about the Transfiguration is the juxtaposition between our finite, natural world and the infinite, supernatural reality that overlays, informs, and completes it.   I think it’s important to point out that there are two common beliefs about the supernatural out there in the wider world that we need to avoid:  one belief is that there is no such thing as the supernatural.  That if you can’t measure or test something empirically then it isn’t real.  The second is the gnostic belief that there is a spiritual or supernatural reality which is in stark contrast to the physical world. This belief sees everything physical – the body, the world etc. as evil and to be rejected while the soul, the spiritual is good.   Christianity of course rejects the first belief but it also rejects the second.  Christianity firmly holds that everything God created was good.  Sin has disfigured creation, we say we are broken people, that the world is broken.  But Christianity is not about liberating our souls from wretched bodies and leaving this world behind. No! Christ’s coming into the world marks the beginning of a new creation, in which everything is being and will be redeemed. Yes, there will be a new heaven, but there will also be a new earth. We believe in the resurrection of the Body and the life everlasting. 

As I was saying: What really stands out to me about the Transfiguration is the juxtaposition between our finite, natural world and the infinite, supernatural reality that overlays, informs and completes it.  At the transfiguration, the supernatural reality of Jesus, His Glory, was physically manifest, it peeked through the veil into our world.  Peter, James, and John saw what they saw with human eyes. It powerfully reminds us that humans are uniquely both physical and spiritual creatures!   It reminds us that God is not only the Creator of both our mortal bodies and our eternal souls, but also that He ministers to our whole person. The new creation is breaking into the old and we are in it and we are part of it and as Christians we are co-labourers in this transformation; in this world but not of it.

God sent His only Son into the world at a particular time and in a particular land, but He sent Him for people of every time and every land.  God physically revealed Himself by appearing in flesh at a particular time and place in history, and God has continued to reveal Himself ever since.

The man of Jesus, who lived and died in Palestine two thousand years ago, saved his contemporaries from sin and death through His Passion and His death on the Cross, but the Bible also recounts that during His public ministry He forgave sins, He raised the dead.  But Christ Jesus lives for all time (He was in the beginning with the Father and the Holy Spirit and He will be in the end. He is the alpha and the omega) and He has triumphed over sin and death for people of all time. 

It is into this reality of an infinite, perfect, all-loving God moving in a finite, imperfect, often unloving world that we must understand our hope. Christ is Victor, now and forever.

Discussion Questions 

1.   Give an example of a time someone’s patient suffering, self-sacrifice made love abound.  Did this experience of another’s love draw you closer to an awareness of God’s love for you?

2.   When in your life has God caused goodness, love, and holiness to emerge from your own struggles, suffering and pain?

3.   Father Peter’s homily reminds us that in order to keep our hope in times of difficulty we need to pray, partake in the Sacraments, and recollect upon the graces that we have received in our lives.  These three practices nurture our relationship with our Father and remind us that God is very much present and active in our lives and that we are his beloved children.  For the encouragement of the others in your group, testify how you have grown closer to God through these practices.   

4.   According to the Bible, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your mind, all your soul, and with all your strength; you shall love your neighbour as yourself.”   We can’t do anything without God, so in order for us to fulfill that commandment, He gives us every necessary grace.  That means He ministers and gives graces to our hearts, our minds, our souls, and our strength -or our physical bodies, that is to our whole humanity.  This is especially true of the Sacraments.  Take an inventory of the Sacraments and how they minister to the various aspects of our humanity.

Blessed to bless.

"O infinite Goodness, You chose us to be Your creatures even before You gave us being; therefore, You could well say, 'You have not chosen Me, for since you are nothing, you had no power to choose, but I have chosen you.'  You chose to make us Your creatures and to create us to Your own image and likeness, moved by Your goodness alone.  You chose us again at our Baptism, and made us Your children,  while we, born in sin, could never have hoped to be Your children if You had not chosen us."(St. Mary Magdalen dei Pazzi)

Yesterday morning I suddenly had the recollection of being a child who very assuredly thought that I was very much loved by God. I remember feeling that I was special to Him.  I reasoned that as I was fortunate, gifted, healthy, and happy it must have been because God loved me and had given me all of these good things.  I remember being aware that I had been blessed in ways that many others had not been blessed. This must be a gift. I also recall realising that I lacked gifts that others seemed to have but it didn't bother me because I was His girl.

What has me so excited here? Was I pondering my cousin's awesome Peep-covered birthday cake or was I pondering God's providential love for this six-year-old aspiring theologian? That time it was definitely cake.  Though, cake definitely falls within the realm of His providence, doesn't it?

The memory astounded me.  What had made me stop believing this?
I recall coming to think that considering myself blessed smacked of arrogance and pride.  I accused myself of thinking God loved me more than others; that if I considered all of my good blessings as just that - blessing, that I was inherently declaring that those who were less evidently blessed were therefore loved less, and certainly I knew that God didn't love some people less. Therefore, it was wrong, in my mind to even consider myself blessed at all.

So rather than seeing that His love and providence for me was not in competition or contrary to His being able to love and provide for others (the error of thinking God's love is finite),  or realizing that I had no gauge to judge by outward circumstances how much God was blessing or not blessing others I simply rejected those blessings as random, or as by-products of the socio-biological circumstances into which I was cast in the lottery of life.  An arm's-length, benevolent, but necessarily-removed deity was the only creator I could justify in my mind's eye.  And from that point there wasn't much point in believing at all.

I realize now that despite a powerful conversion and encounter with the truth of the Trinitarian God I carried these anti-Providential thoughts under the guise of humility for a long time even after my reversion to the Church.  But then I spent some time with Karol.

Two years ago I had the great opportunity to lead my middle-school students in a study of the book "John Paul the Great: His Five Loves" by Jason Evert.  I love this book.  I would recommend it to any confirmation-aged person or older.  I love Pope John Paul II to begin with.  Even when I strayed from my faith I viewed JPII as a giant of intellect, charisma, and most of all astounding courage.  Viewing his life now that I have returned to my faith I am even more astounded by his incomparable faith, prayer life and complete, trust-filled surrender to God's will.  Jason Evert's book captures this dimension masterfully and accessibly.

So here is a very brief summary.   Young Karol Wojtyla, born shortly after the end of the first world war, lost his mother and then his only brother at a young age.  He was raised in very poor Poland by a very devout, loving, generous father.  Karol excelled in academics, the arts, and athletics, he was a very naturally gifted young man with a heart burning with compassion and love.  The Nazis invaded his homeland and turned everyone's world upside-down. All around him was death and destruction. Friends and acquaintances were killed or imprisoned. Beautiful people whom he loved were recklessly and needlessly destroyed.  Also during this time his only remaining family - his beloved father - died of heart failure.  Karol spent the rest of the war doing manual labour in a quarry and studying secretly.

One day on his way home from working in the quarry  Karol was hit by a German truck. Instead of being left for dead in the street as would have been the norm - so lowly-esteemed were the lives of the Polish by their invaders - the soldiers actually treated him and saw that he got to hospital.  As Karol convalesced in hospital he took this brush with death and his deliverance as a confirmation of his priestly vocation.  This was neither his first nor last near-death incident.  He reasoned that if God had saved his life when so many around him had not been saved it must only have been because God must have a special plan for him.

When I read that conclusion of his it stood out as if it were written in glaring neon letters. And I did not know what to make of it.  My anti-providence-arrogance radar was going off big time.  I was baffled that someone could look at the suffering around him and see his only life as being saved, how could he see himself as special? Was he saying that all those who had died were expendable?  Yet, I couldn't outright dismiss him.  Surely, the orphaned Karol Wojtyla knew first hand suffering and loss, surely his heart burned with love and compassion, and surely he was a man of great humility.  I could not question his ability to make this conclusion.  His witness made me re-examine my own heart and opened up my eyes and my mind to a much greater understanding of Providence than what I had then, so thank you, my dear Saint, and thank you, my dear heavenly Father for this great grace!

His mystifying witness led me to ponder at length the degree of God's involvement and concern for each of our temporal and eternal lives and what I learned and discerned astounded me and still causes me to marvel daily. My Lord and my God!  How could I reconcile the abundance of good that God has apparently granted me with the justice of a world that suffers when so many more deserving people have less and I, who is so undeserving has been given so very much? I realised that I was asking the wrong question.  Rather, "Much will be required of the person entrusted with much, and still more will be demanded of the person entrusted with more."

My dear friend and favourite theologian loves to remind us of the truth that any gift God gives us -any grace He grants us- is always, always, always for others.  Christianity is all about others. It's all about putting others before ourselves, of pouring out our life for the life of the world, of making ourselves channels through which God can do His marvellous work, it's about showing up each day, grateful to be called to be part of the Kingdom-building work crew.

We are gifted to give.
Loved to love.
Cared for to care.
Healed to heal.
Blessed to bless.

I have come to understand and to declare that yes, I am a very blessed woman. I have been given many great gifts in many arenas: in health, wealth, intelligence, community, citizenship, and more.   I see how all of these gifts certainly make my life easier and enjoyable and I truly thank God for these gifts, but more than that I see how wonderful it is that God has given me so many ways to share His love with others through the unique combination of providential circumstances that He has given to me alone. What dignity He gives me to have entrusted me with a unique 'skill set' by which I can love others.   All of the duties that He places in my life are purely gifts waiting to be given, gifts for the recipient but also gifts for me, for as they pass through me they fill me with His life and His presence.

I have come to affirm without hesitation that the greatest of all gifts He has given me are two gifts that are not constrained by physical limitations, nor dictated by DNA or accident of birth: He has given me the gift of being His beloved child! This is a gift that is offered to all of us! Deo gratias!  The second gift though is the gift of having been loved by others.  That too ought to be available to all.   Looking at sheer numbers, this should be the gift that is easier to attain, but I think that sadly this is the less certain one, the one people are at greater risk of not attaining because it's been left in the hands of each of us to see that it is given.  Christians, take note: let none of us pass up on an opportunity to love another, let none of us be found to have let another soul reach the end of their life having never known the feeling of having been cherished by somebody.

Mother Teresa spoke often of the greatest poverty being the poverty of loneliness, of not being loved. This is the poverty that can run rampant in the midst of affluence.   She saw starkly too how blind we are to the torrent of gifts we receive from God - both the natural gifts of life: our every breath; that the sun's power is reigned in and converted for our use by the marvel that is the photosynthetic machinery of humble plant cells; the harvest of food that feeds our world; and the supernatural gifts of His life in our souls and of love.  Sadly, we have convinced ourselves in our technocratic towers of Babel that we no longer need the love of God, and we have forgotten to love others.  Lord have mercy on us!

Little Jennifer was partly right: what we've been given is not a measure of our worth. Though it is certainly an indication that we have been invited and enlisted to do much for Him. But what is also true, and what I had erroneously rejected, is that what we've been given has indeed been given, and God is a good gift giver.

The  measure of our worth is solely that we are His and are made in His image.  He is so close to us, He is whispering to us in our every moment, inviting us to open up to let Him show us the picture He wants us to paint with the unique palette He's given each one of us.   Like Mother Teresa, let us accept with great joy that we are His pencil...or piece of chalk or calligraphy pen or can of spray paint. Maybe our handwriting is impeccable or maybe our lead is broken or dull. Maybe our words jump off the page or maybe our ink just blots and smudges, but let us consent to writing the story of His great love with our lives with every tool he has given us!

 Beloved, let us love one another, because love is of God!

May we always delight in Our Father as much as my baby boy delighted in his daddy here. 

O Radix Jesse

Written this past Advent

Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel,
He has come to His people and set them free.
He has raised up for us a mighty saviour,
Born of the house of His servant David...

Hope!

Our Lord is faithful, patient with us. Redeeming His long lost fold, our long lost fold. Us.

I have been blessed with so many beautiful, devout friends here in this community. Many of these women, like me, grew up in families that are nominally Catholic.  These beautiful women are all incredible mothers, humbling models of who I would like to become.  They weave our faith into their daily lives carefully and intentionally, creating homes rich in liturgical rhythm.  They are passing on traditions and truths that they didn't inherit for themselves.

They share the experience of being exiled daughters.  Many of them are seen as pretentious freaks by their kin.  Beautiful, exceedingly humble women who suffer being despised and misunderstood on account of their all-consuming love for Christ,      Yet after the souls of their own children, they long most to bring the souls of their parents, siblings, in some cases spouses, to the Lord; they live with hearts that radiate hope and yet ache for their long lost fold.  I thank the Lord for them, my heroic sisters in faith who do this so much better, so much more graciously than I.  Holidays can be tough for those of us living in this tension; I want to crumple up and shield myself from all sorts of imaginary disapproval that may or may not come.  But the Root of Jesse reminds me that this is not His plan: 

O Radix Jesse...10On that day,
The root of Jesse,
set up as a signal for the peoples—
Him the nations will seek out;
his dwelling shall be glorious.11On that day,
The Lord shall again take it in hand
to reclaim the remnant of his people
that is left from Assyria and Egypt,
Pathros, Ethiopia, and Elam,
Shinar, Hamath, and the isles of the sea.12He shall raise a signal to the nations
and gather the outcasts of Israel;
The dispersed of Judah he shall assemble
from the four corners of the earth.

The Lord doesn't abandon us who feel like their roots are withered and weak.  Furthermore he doesn't just cut us off and graft us onto a healthier plant,   but miraculously in His grace He has called us, He has given us the privilege of knowing Him and bringing Him to our loved ones who have forgotten His voice. He asks us to infuse His love, like living water, into those limp roots. What grace! What mercy!  He wants to do this in us!  Thanks be to God!  Lord, thank You for calling me out of my miserable selfishness, out of my self-defensive fear, to the wide-open wonder of life in You, thank You for inviting me to love for You, for being here, for having come to your people and setting us free.  Help me share Your joy with my loved ones. Help me abide in You where there is no fear. May my life radiate Your good news.   Let me bring You glory, my Lord, my King, my Life.  

Evangelizing in the mud

Today's Gospel reading is Mark 5:1-20. It is the story of Jesus arriving in Gerasene to discover a man who was possessed by many (2000!) demons. He terrorized the populace who had tried chaining and restraining him to no avail; he lived among the tombs and mountains, howling and injuring himself with rocks.  Jesus commanded the demons to come out of him and drove them into a herd of swine which subsequently ran off a cliff and drowned in the sea.  The swineherd ran all over the surrounding area to tell others what had happened and the story concludes thus:

"They came to Jesus and saw the demoniac sitting there, clothed and in his right mind, the very man who had had the legion, and they were afraid.  Those who had seen what had happened to the demoniac and to the swine reported it.  Then they began to beg Jesus to leave their neighbourhood.  As he was getting into the boat, the man who had been possessed by demons begged him that he might be with him. But Jesus refused, and said to him, "Go home to your friends, and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and what mercy he has shown to you."  And he went away and began to proclaim in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him; and everyone was amazed.

I've not got much time to write but I wanted to offer a few comments.

As a person who experienced a profound conversion several years into marriage and motherhood, I look back at my waywardness and cringe.  I can see myself in the place of the newly healed "demoniac" and I feel I know what he is thinking. He is so overwhelmed with gratitude to Jesus for rescuing him and wants to give his life to Him, which is one reason he begs to come along with Him in the boat. But, he is also trying to flee.  He recognizes the damage he has done, the scandal his former life has created, the reputation he has earned.  Although everyone can see he has changed, he knows his past too well, and he does not want to remember it. He wants a clean break, a fresh start. He doesn't want to agonize over every encounter "what do they really think of me? Do they see the new me or the demon-infested man? Every time I have a bad day are they all going to jump to conclusions that I've not really changed.  What if the demons do come back?" He doesn't want to be remembered for his brokenness. 

But Jesus, in His compassionate wisdom, says "no" to the man's plaintive cry.  Instead of rescuing him from his memories, He commissions him to be an evangelist! In contrast to several other recorded healings in which Jesus expressly commands the healed to tell no one what has happened, here Jesus does the exact opposite.  And so the man does not go back to his home a shrinking violet, keeping to himself and trying to go unnoticed, but he goes courageously back to the ones who (the man probably thought) would likely view him as a curiosity at best and a dangerous freak at worst. He goes back and he tells them exactly what the Lord has done for him, and of the mercy that he has been shown. He offered up his painful testimony and the story of his incredible exorcism and so proclaims the Good News of Jesus.  His redemption is not separate from his past but drawn from it. 

As I've often written before I have struggled with trying to bury my past and trying to rebuild relationships with people who knew me at my worst.  I know that this fearfulness and retreat is not what God wants for me, but that if He has chosen me to be His own it is so that He could love those nearest to me through me and draw them to Him.  So, I found this passage and Jesus' response to the man's begging to be extremely consoling and it encourages me to likewise bravely "go home to [my] friends and tell them how much the Lord has done for [me] and what mercy he has shown [me]." 

I love you too. (Originally posted sometime last year)

We love because He first loved us. - 1 John 4:19

Can I just say completely without bias that my four-year-old is too adorable for words?

This morning he came stumbling into my room. I was sitting on the edge of the bed. My husband and I both said hello to him but like his mommy who needs her coffee before she can function, this boy couldn't say a word. He came right over to me, planted his head on my lap and wrapped his arms around my legs and hugged them fiercely. "Thanks for that hug!" I tell my boy.

Now wide awake he looks up at me with the widest smile and announces warmly: "I love you too!"

He often does that- saying "I love you too" to my husband or I when we haven't said "I love you" first.  Sometimes he says it in response to kindnesses, compliments, but it's often just when he is happy.

 I find it so wonderfully bold, so full of his child-like confidence that he knows his mom and dad love him, without us saying so.  Our presence assures him we love him, our hugs and our smiles say the same thing. He knows his relationship to us is rooted in our love for him.  So he responds to our affections just the same as if we had said the words "I love you." I am enchanted by this. I realize it's probably partly due to the fact that he is delayed with his speech and he's still trying to figure out the rules or conventions of language, but it is so refreshing and it makes my heart burst every time.

It's gotten me thinking about how we approach Our Father.  Saint Thérèse spoke so much of child-like faith; she knew that God loved her without question, much like my boy takes it for granted that we love him.  I can imagine the Little Flower whispering ''I love you too!'' to her heavenly Father in response to a beautiful sunrise, a sweet-smelling rose, or any heart-stirring grace.

The words ''I love you'' are so heavily charged. It's more than just factually acknowledging that I will your good, but it is confessing that you have a place in my heart; that I delight in you; that you are a part of me; that you have some power over me.It says, I want to give you the gift of myself. Your acceptance or rejection of me can build me up or tear me down. It's saying I am vulnerable to you.  It says ''I will forgive whatever wrong you cause me, because for you I am willing to be wounded, I am willing to suffer.'' It begs to hear back acceptance, affirmation: ''yes, I love you too!''

God made us to love us, to delight in us, desiring for us to freely choose to love Him in return. (And I know it in my depths because I can feel it in front of the Monstrance, those wordless 'I love yous' bouncing back and forth between my soul and Him, feeling pulled towards Him as if by a magnet. And it's jaw-dropping and so humbling to discover this. It changed me.) And He made us to love Him through those around us, and to love those around us through Him, and to let ourselves be loved by Him through them and by them through Him. It's crazy relational! And it's everything! Today's Gospel reading is from Mark 12: 28-34

One of the scribes came to Jesus and asked him,“Which is the first of all the commandments?”Jesus replied, “The first is this:Hear, O Israel!The Lord our God is Lord alone!You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.The second is this:You shall love your neighbor as yourself.There is no other commandment greater than these.”The scribe said to him, “Well said, teacher.You are right in saying,He is One and there is no other than he.And to love him with all your heart,
with all your understanding, 
with all your strength,
and to love your neighbor as yourselfwith all your understanding, with all your strength,and to love your neighbor as yourselfis worth more than all burnt offerings and sacrifices.”And when Jesus saw that he answered with understanding,he said to him,“You are not far from the Kingdom of God.”And no one dared to ask him any more questions.

Every grace is God shouting ''I love you'' and it's all grace.  Let's tell Him boldly that we love him too.

*****
A bit later this morning, that same adorable son of mine was showing off his new-found ability to wink and was seeing if I could also wink (spoiler alert: I can.) So he pushed my hair out of my eyes to get a better look and said ''Mommy! You're so pretty... just like (his sister) Grace!'' I include this story just as additional proof of his adorableness and because it made his sister break out into the biggest smile when I told her about it later.  I suppose I should have answered ''I love you too.''

Finding unexpected love over fishy crackers

In the United States today is the day of prayer for the legal protection of unborn children.. I wrote this post a year ago this week.

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In recognition of the March for Life event in Washington D.C. today, January 22, I thought I'd post a reflection I wrote after I attended our local Right to Life rally in the spring of 2015.  

That day confirmed in me that so much of the pro-abortion arguments are founded in fear.   And the heartbeat of the pro-life movement is the trust that God is good. God loves and bestows dignity on every person He ever created and He providentially cares for us all.  The only way I know of overcoming frightening (albeit temporal) circumstances that seem overwhelming, paralyzing is knowing in your bones that God is love and ultimately love conquers evil, it conquers fear.

And if you are part of the slim percentage of people who are going to a March for Life to berate and hurl hatred at pro-choice protesters, please stay home, will you?  Because your vitriol won't soften hearts. Your love will.  I sadly know too many broken young women who have had abortions at the insistence of their babies' pleading fathers... 'men' who begged them to abort because "my mother is Catholic and she'd kill me if I got 'some girl' pregnant." I knew too many boys in my Catholic high school who would coolly claim that they would push their girlfriends down the stairs if they ever became pregnant so as to cause miscarriage.   I know, and you know, that this is horrific anathema to Christianity, but do those pro-choicers know it? Or is this disfigured and hateful image the only face of the Body of Christ they've seen?  I will never for a second try to excuse abortion but I do recognize how truly lost and convoluted so many people are in our individualistic, dog-eat-dog world and I feel aching compassion for these women as well as for their children. Love them, care for them, point them to the Father whose love surpasses everything.

Finally, I know that a lot of people who were planning to attend the March this year in D.C. had to change their plans as a massive snowstorm moves through the region and local officials declared states of emergency and implored people to stay indoors.  So, if that includes anyone who is reading this:  God love you for your desire to show up despite the inconvenience and hardship of the storm! I imagine that a lot of you feel discouraged, perhaps that you failed in not showing up. I offer this reflection in part to offer encouragement that God is in control, and in His Providential love He will touch and change hearts in ways that we can't imagine....Especially when the circumstances change in a heartbeat...

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My son M. and I joined the grade 4-8 students in Fredericton for the Right to Life rally/March for life.  M. (3 years old) and I had left the rest of the group to run around the lawn, look for a balloon, explore the crowd as only a three-year-old can do and finally found some steps to sit/climb/play/slide on. We were on the far left of the crowd and our group was on the far right, near the speakers. So here we were standing off to the side when suddenly a group of university-aged women appeared with signs and bullhorns, screaming “you say no choice, we say pro-choice” and waving signs with clothes hangers taped to them. I wasn’t sure if I should move or stay but I felt deeply, stay, love them.  So M. was covering his ears but he wasn’t crying or upset. He just kept saying “They are so loud!” So I pulled him into my arms started praying the Rosary out loud, which over the bull horn was probably not audible- I could barely hear myself - and I hoped it would help M. because he loves to help me pray. And I kept looking at the girl with the bullhorn and then down at my son with his ears covered and she kept looking at him from the corner of her eye and would hesitate before shouting into the bullhorn again.  

Then, just as suddenly as they had started, they stopped literally at our feet and lay on the ground.

While they were shouting M. was covering his ears but he didn’t seem too worried, but now he became really concerned as he looked at these girls that were lying silently on the ground, eyes closed, with cardboard cut-outs of tombs lying across their bodies.

“They are dead?”

“No, they’re okay sweetheart.”  

“Are they sleeping?”

“No, they are pretending to sleep.”

“Why are they lying down Mommy?”

“Because they are sad.”

“They are sad?”

“Yes my darling, so we have to be very nice to people when they feel sad.”

He had the most concerned look on his little face and started looking at them and at me like he was thinking of what to do next.

I asked: “Do you want to share your snack with them?”

“I can give them my goldfish (crackers)?” His face lit up and he scrambled to retrieve his snack.

‘Yes, you can ask if the ladies if they want some.” So he then walked over to a couple different women and offered them crackers, they all, oohed and aawed over his sweetness.

Some said yes, some said no thank you. - They all responded lovingly. (The kid knows how to win over a crowd!)

One of the protesters got off the dirty pavement and leaned up against the building. I overheard her say she felt sick to the stomach. M. heard it too.

“You are sick?” “You have tummy ache?” he asked her.Everything in me was now shouting “LOVE HER!” So, I kicked into mother mode.

“Can I help you? Do you want something to eat? Can I get you a bottle of water? Do you need to sit down?” She said no. Then quietly M. played on the runner of the steps between the two of us, and I held his hand to make sure he didn’t fall, and she reflexively would reach out to help him if he was leaning too far off the steps on her side towards her. I said:

“This is stressful, isn’t it. Scary, huh?” She nodded.

I then told her I used to be her, and I told her some stories of women I love so much who have deeply mourned their abortions and how much pressure was put on me to abort this beautiful boy with the goldfish crackers because a blood test said he was going to have Down Syndrome.

And she said, with tears running down her face:  “yes, everyone has a story.”  “Yes,” I agreed.

Then, after another moment of silence I looked into her beautiful watery blue eyes and said:  “I just want you to know that I know you are here because you care and you think that you are doing the right thing. These people here, we don’t hate you guys. There are so many women out there (pointing to the crowd) who are here because they have had abortions and they don’t want anyone to go through that pain. None of us hate women who have had abortions. We don’t.  We’re not here saying that at all.” Then just silence and a sad smiley look and then M. bolted across the lawn and I had to leave to follow him.  

Then as we meandered around the lawn and I marvelled at what had just happened, and later as we marched I overheard a handful of conversations by perplexed pro-lifers who were upset with the protesters and in some cases being rude and here I am begging and pleading in both official languages:

“These girls, they don’t know... they think they are right... they think the world is bad, because they don’t know that God loves them. They are scared and they think no one cares so the best thing to do is to abort. If they knew God loved them, really, really loved them,  and that people care and truly want to help them, they would not think that aborting their babies was compassionate. YOU MUST LOVE THEM RIGHT NOW. If you don’t show them God’s love right now, who will? They have to go home tonight confused by how much love we showed them. PLEASE! PLEASE! When you go by, smile at them with love.”

As we marched by and the protesters screamed SHAME at the top of their lungs and I was getting nervous (we were walking on the street and I kept thinking someone could drive into the crowd because they are angry - it happened to my friend who was walking a picket line in Ontario about ten years ago) and I am really trying to stay calm because the kids in our group were with us and were getting really upset and then the woman behind me calmly said to her daughter, “remember when Jesus was carrying his cross? Remember that he prayed for the people who were mocking him?”  and WHOOSH! Those words just completely calmed my racing heart.  

And I looked into the eyes of the women M. and I shared crackers with earlier and they looked away but weren't shouting with the others and the girl with the bullhorn (no longer had the bullhorn) kept looking back at me so I said sincerely, “I hope you have a good day” and she paused and looked really shocked and sputtered, “Well, I hope you don’t.” And I nodded and smiled and said “thank you.”  and kept walking...and shaking... and feeling overwhelmed with love.

Totally crazy, unexpected love.
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