Hope in the Forsaken One

If, as St. Paul says, Christ who knew no sin was made sin for us, can there be any sin he did not bear there on the cross? If the answer is no, as I believe it must be, then even the utterly forsaken are not bereft of the company of the utterly forsaken one, the Son of God, and therefore not bereft of hope." - Fr. Richard John Neuhaus, Death on a Friday Afternoon

This is a comforting thought as I instinctively contrast my Aunt Helen's life and recent death with my dad's so long ago. He was proud and adamant in his atheism. He would not accept God's grace while he lived, and in his hopelessness took his own life. 

Yet I hope that he is not now bereft of hope.

Perhaps there is hope for me, too, as I continue to refuse to yield my will fully to God's, one way or another, decade after decade. 

Coincidence?

Today's Advent reflection from Dynamic Catholic has the same title as the local Catholic opioid response program I've been working with: Choosing Hope.

The other attempted suicide story . . .

. . . that I recently read - maybe early last week - was about a guy who had a lightning bolt tattoo that he almost never talked about. One night he'd been drinking and told a friend the story behind it. Some time in his past he'd grown weary of dealing with his darkness, and decided to end his life. His gun misfired, but before he realized that, in the moment after he'd actually pulled the trigger to the point of releasing the firing pin, he instantly regretted what he'd done. He was unspeakably relieved when it didn't fire. As it happened, there was a thunderstorm that night, and the lightning became a symbol for him and a reminder that, no matter how bad things might get, he doesn't really want to die.

Sometimes I still have self-destructive thoughts

For a couple minutes yesterday i was feeling incredibly stressed out and frustrated, to the point (excuse the unintended pun) that i considered whether it would be possible to jam my pen through my temple. i recognized the madness in the impulse, and rejected it, and soon worked past it. Though they won't know of it, i'm sure my coworkers would be grateful for that, not to mention the people who love me.

i am, gratefully, long past the days when i would sit on the kitchen floor with the cold steel of the sharpened chef's knife pressed against my wrist. but i still have vestige impulses of the habit of not wanting to live anymore. The two stories i read this month from people who survived suicide attempts help with putting those impulses into perspective. i still think i could probably benefit from more therapy to further help with that, but don't really want to explain why i'd be going there again. 

It was a sunny, dark day

It became brightest as my bride and I hiked through the gorge as the sun sank low in the sky.

Painful growth; dim but present hope (corrected)

(S)eeking the Kingdom first means that we want to receive all of the good things the Father has in store for us. We do not want one good thing apart from knowing His heart for us, and we are not content with anything less than His will. St. Augustine said, "As for our saying: Your kingdom come, it will surely come whether we will it or not. But we are stirring up our desires for the kingdom so that it can come to us." - Neal Lozano, Abba's Heart

I find myself in a very different place this Lent from past years. For nearly as long as I have been trying to walk with the Lord, Lent has been a season of turning away from a particular sin to which I have been bound, but I have since been set free from that in a way that reflects the truth that Neal has shared in his older book, Unbound: A Practical Guide to Deliverance. It is true that I still have an area of weakness where I was formerly in bondage. But instead of being consumed by it, I have found myself reflecting on the Father's love in the face of it, and the impure desire is swamped by the certainty that God has a better plan for me. As it applies to Lent: in the past I practically defined the "success" of "my Lenten efforts" by how well I gutted out this one area of temptation. Since I'm finally dealing with that by Grace rather than by sheer willpower, the next thing is now more present to me. I myself have often observed that God often returns us to the same lesson until we learn it, for it's often impossible to move on to the next one until then. There's a reason we must learn to add before we multiply.

That former area of bondage had a payoff of which I wasn't aware. I could attribute any unhappiness in my life to my struggle - and especially my failure - in that area. I know that sin distorts our perspective, and so I have basically placed most blame for any dissatisfaction with my life on that. For decades. Now, when I am unhappy or dissatisfied with my life, I have to look for another reason. Perhaps there could be vestiges of the same underlying attitude that are now contributing to my ennui, but maybe there's something else, too. Perhaps I'm not primarily interested in loving as the Father loves me, but am disproportionately concerned with how I wish my life were different from how it is.

I need to desire God's kingdom first, and trust that all other things will be added besides (Mt. 6:33). While I am growing more conscious of the Father's deep, sustaining, joyful love for me, I am struggling to trust in His provision for my own joy, in an area that most people would agree is very important.

Jesus' instruction to seek the Kingdom and His righteousness (Mt 6:25-33) is nothing less than an invitation to pursue and experience heaven while living on earth. Choosing the kingdom as life's first priority does not replace our need for food, shelter or clothing; it simply puts everything else in its proper place. When we put those things above our need for God's reign, we invite disorder into our thoughts, especially through anxiety. When we seek the Kingdom first, we find the goodness of God through faith, and we actively pursue His will. When we refuse to give worry a place in us and surrender to the Father through prayer, self-giving and loving relationships, we honor Him as the source of all that is good. - ibid.

The same is true for non-physical needs. God, I'm going to have to trust you to get me there.

Incarnation

(edited 10/10)
At last I think I have finished this song about which I was so excited when I started it, nearly two years ago. It turns out that I needed time away from it to get out of my own way, to figure out how to rework the lyrics so that, while they may actually seem more awkward (at the end of each verse and the bridge) to read, the music and therefore the entire song now flow much better, and the parallelism between the verses is vastly improved. I also have a tentative title that I like at least a little.

I am highly indebted to the motivational influence of other wonderful songwriters. I was inspired to start this song after hearing the talented members of the Heider family share their music in a house concert. I was moved to revisit it after rehearsing for the first time with Keri Edwards, Kris Krumal and Nic Cardilino to accompany their wonderful songwriters' concert.

This is, of course, too long, and way heady, but there is a point to both of these shortcomings, as it's so broad in what it attempts to convey (which may literally be the understatement of all time and eternity).


Incarnation

Imagine a time: one moment containing every moment
Poignant, mundane, breathtaking, heartrending and sublime
Each joy and every sorrow every heart has ever known
Touch upon God's timelessness

Picture a place so open it reaches every place
from vast galaxies down to leptons which our senses can't perceive
Mountaintops and deep oceans, shining stars and prison cells
Immerse in God's sacred presence

Refrain:
O my God, you're beyond all imagining
though we struggle and yearn to conceive
You reveal yourself in your love for us
Give us hearts that burn to believe

Conceive of every conception everyone has ever fathomed
Philosophies and inventions, plots, ideas and schemes
Each wonder science discovers and mysteries not yet revealed
Marvel at God's boundless mind

Consider a love so giving it begs us all to enter
Bearing each hurt and betrayal, returning forgiveness and peace
Shining great light in deep darkness, bringing hope to those in despair
Fall into God's loving arms

Refrain

Bridge:
Since we're told that we're made in God's image
We assign God our image as well
Bound by physics, space, time and our feelings
Our minds cannot hope to grasp all that God is

But know this small child, one infant who touches every person
Forsaking the glory of heaven to become as one of us
Born to deliver, by dying and rising, all people unto himself
Come enter God's very life

Refrain

© 2014, 2015, LifeKnell Music Ministry; All rights reserved.

Transforming (phase 4) - Jesus appears to the disciples on the road to Emmaus (step 30) - session 2

1 Peter 1:3-12

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! By his great mercy we have been born anew to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and to an inheritance which is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God's power are guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. - (3-5)

I fail in different ways to live out the full implications of the second half of verse 3. Sometimes I try to be born anew by my own efforts, which invariably fall short. Then and at other times, I fail to let God make me anew by forsaking my former ways of being which Jesus has nailed to death on his cross, choosing to remain my old self rather than letting God keep making me into my new self. Since my relationship with my bride is so rooted in my brokenness, this includes various aspects of being in relationship with her, but in fairness to both of us, we are both a part of that problem. I think she would admit as much, even as we both continue to seek to grow together in new ways.

Well, I could take off on that tangent and fail to return to the good news here, so . . .

And that good news is found in verse 5: it isn't in my own power that I am guarded for my final and total salvation and sanctification, but by God's power. It is because of God's grace and mercy that the imperishable, undefiled, unfading inheritance awaits this mortal, sinful man, not because I deserve it but because Jesus has purchased it by his death and brought it to fruition by his resurrection and by his Spirit. Perhaps he keeps it in heaven for us because only then shall we be fully able to walk in it in eternal purity.

In this you rejoice - (6a) though surely not as consistently as I ought!

In this you rejoice, though now for a little while you may have to suffer various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith, more precious than gold which though perishable is tested by fire, may redound to praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Without having seen him you love him; though you do not now see him you believe in him and rejoice with unutterable and exalted joy. As the outcome of your faith you obtain the salvation of your souls. - (6-9)

Many times when I pray with others, it so often starts with a reminder of verses 3-7, though I haven't realized this. But God's mercy, grace and love far overcome the trials we may have to suffer, having our dross burned off so that God may be glorified by his work in and through our lives. As our attention is increasingly consumed by our circumstances, we lose sight of the greater victory that has already been secured for us. After allowing the Spirit to remind us of this, we then have the right perspective to ask God for the blessing we think we need in this specific situation and the humility to ask him to provide for what we really need - and help us accept it - if it's different from what we think. I think it's the latter part that brings us peace, when we know that we can trust God to do what is best for us.

The truth is, the trials we now suffer are as nothing compared to the eternal celebration that is ours.

The prophets who prophesied of the grace that was to be yours searched and inquired about this salvation; they inquired what person or time was indicated by the Spirit of Christ within them when predicting the sufferings of Christ and the subsequent glory.  It was revealed to them that they were serving not themselves but you, in the things which have now been announced to you by those who preached the good news to you through the Holy Spirit sent from heaven, things into which angels long to look. - (10-12)

Likewise, as recipients of this grace and glory, we are likewise called to serve others as we walk together through our various trials, that we may all receive this inheritance, with both its eternal rejoicing and its present comfort.

Conforming (phase 2), Jesus Heals: To be Free to be Able to Choose - AtaDc (step18), session 2a

A final thought from one of the sessions in this step - before moving on to step 19 - which struck me when I was reviewing sessions so that I could back-link to a previous one. It seemed to me that I should spend some time thinking about an additional implication of the reading for the second session. It isn't anything new or especially profound, but may be critically important, and it turns out to touch on my reactions to a couple pieces of entertainment from the weekend.

And he stretched out his hand, and touched him . . .  - Lk 5: 13a

With some down time on Saturday while I was frequently blowing my nose, I caught up on some back episodes of Elementary. This series deals pretty significantly with Holmes' drug use, which most movies and series have ignored. I'm not familiar enough with the books to know how Doyle treated this, but in this series a now straight-and-sober Sherlock has to regularly face the aftermath of his addiction. Watson comes into her (!) relationship with Holmes as a surgeon who has left that practice due to a tragedy that a patient experienced under her care, who turned to a second career as a sober companion for addicts and takes on Holmes as a client. The series' first few seasons have followed the arc of his recovery, as Holmes must overcome his arrogance to come to grips with the idea that attending meetings and having a sponsor, and eventually becoming a sponsor, are beneficial for him rather than beneath him. In an episode I viewed on Saturday, he had to face a newly-discovered murder that been committed during a time that he had blacked out; he was a suspect because the victim was found with a hand-written note indicating that he wanted to meet with her. This made him the police's main suspect, and he had to deal with the possibility that, as an addict controlled by his drug use, he might have actually killed her.  What caught my attention was something he was explaining to Watson as he engaged in comparatively less self-destructive and more potentially beneficial actions than relapse would have been: he explained to her that she knew the deep regret of making a terrible mistake, but that didn't compare with the shamefulness that he had experienced in his addiction, as under the drugs he had become a person who he could imagine committing such a crime. (The plot hole was that in such a state even such a brilliant mind as his probably couldn't have hidden the body so well.)

And below my breath, I had to offer an amen: the difference between deep regret and deep shame is inexpressible.

The other program we watched together this weekend was Blue Bloods, on which a young woman whose family had been murdered when she was a young child dealt with the request of their killer to meet with her. I was not so dismayed by the harsh words that the surviving member of the family expressed to the murderer who had killed her family at least fifteen years earlier, for one reason: if he had true remorse for what he'd done to her and her family, he would have understood that he should never contact her except to provide her with the opportunity to express her feelings. I was pretty disappointed in the jaded attitudes of so many cast members, whose Catholicism doesn't seem to include the concept of mercy. There's a difference between wanting violent criminals serve their time as they deserve and placing them beyond the reach of God's transforming power.

So this entertainment-based tangent returns at last to the point: Jesus touches the untouchable. He did it while he walked the earth, as we see over and over again his central belief that he came for the downtrodden, the outcast, the sinner. We see it for the physically untouchable: lepers and blind men whose infirmities are believed to be caused by sin. We observe it in his response to those whose sin is undeniable, the woman caught in adultery, the woman at the well, the tax collectors Matthew and Zacchaeus. We don't encounter anyone whose sin we'd consider unforgivable today: there are no encounters with murderers or molesters, and we don't meet a thief with Jesus until Calvary. Maybe this is why we so often fail to grasp the concept of mercy; most of us are able to hold ourselves above the "really bad people" who have done truly horrific things.

Oh, God help me if his mercy is not for all of us. (contradiction not intended, but not corrected)

But the thing is, I think we will be surprised when we fully understand the nature of sin, and of our sinful selves. I think we will be blown away by God's grace and love in a way that allows us to see how fully we have needed it for ourselves and that leaves us wanting every lost brother and sister to receive it for themselves, too, no matter how terrible or close-to-home their offenses.

Conforming (phase 2), God Prepares a Way for Our Salvation - The Mystery of the Incarnation (step 8), Session 3

The Magnificat

He has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. - Lk 1, 51b (RSV, NKJV)

I love reading different translations of familiar scripture passages. I imagine that Mary's canticle has been set to music more often than any other New Testament passage, and while it may be most cherished in Catholic circles, other Christian denominations also treasure this passage as a wonderful model of unbridled praise and worship. I have personally sung at least a half-dozen arrangements, and written one as well (though a friend recently pointed out that my chord progression was heavily influenced by Styx). I have prayed it as part of evening prayer on many occasions.

Here are some other translations of this verse with which I was familiar:

• (he has) dispersed the arrogant of mind and heart. (NAB)
• he has routed the arrogant of heart. (NJB)
• he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.  (NIV)
• he hath scattered the proud in the conceit of their heart. (Douay-Rheims)

Because of my experience with this canticle of praise, I really expected no new revelation this morning from this familiar passage. You'd think I'd know better by now.  As he has done from the beginning, God once again breathes new life through his Word. This idea of the proud (of which I have too often been a member) and the "imagination of their hearts" really resonates with me. So often I imagine myself as more than - more accurately, something different from what - I really am, to the detriment of those around me and also of all that I am and am called to be.  

Isn't it strange that the greatest self-concept that our pride conjures up in the imagination of our hearts can never be so great as the true self into which God calls us to grow? Isn't it odd that the bliss we imagine could be ours and for which we pine fails to approach the joy which is already ours for the living?

(Okay, this next paragraph should be read with an exclamation point at the end of every sentence, but I hate it when people write that way . . . )

Now, to focus too much on this particular verse is to miss this great canticle's whole point. God is so much greater than both our biggest imagining and our greatest failure. He has already blessed us so abundantly, with boundless love past and present, with comfort in the midst of great heartache, with joy beyond telling, with wonder and awe at the marvels of this world, all of which are a foretaste of all that he has in store for us. God's greatness can be seen both in what he has done for us and in what he has promised to do, and as we have lately discussed in this context, God keeps every promise and makes possible that which we cannot even imagine.

This great proclamation of praise offers us so much to consider about God's great glory.  I've intentionally begun this session today so that I might have time to reflect on it another day; more to come . . .

Reforming (phase 1), Hell and Mercy (step 6), session 6

My toe still hurts, but it is better than last week. Hell is not like that.

I am watching as one loved one after another makes choices that are clearly against God's will and (redundantly) not in their own best interest. Perhaps hell has a degree of that. The parable of the rich man and Lazarus suggests as much.

I continue to experience moments of brightness that get me through the frustrations of life. Hell is certainly not like that.

I guess that last maybe leads me (finally!) to something else to reflect on about hell. There have been moments in my life that have had me very close to ultimate despair. I suspect that hell may be eternal ultimate despair. I certainly don't look forward to my darkest moments, so I know I want no part of such a dark eternity.

Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is remitted. - Ps 32, 1

I am indeed abundantly blessed.

Blessed the man to whom the LORD imputes no guilt, in whose spirit is no guile. - Ps 32, 2

This one I'm not so sure about. I'm sure I have previously expressed my admiration for those who are simpler than I perceive myself to be. I know that there is guile in me, thoughts and feelings that I feel I must both suppress and hide for the sake of those whom I love.  I suspect this may be common for people in lifelong relationships, and so I don't take myself too extensively to task for it. Yet I must be guileless before God, who knows my every thought; this is the One with whom I can and must always be my true, honest self.

To you I have acknowledged my sin; my guilt I did not hide.
I said, “I will confess my transgression to the LORD.” And you have forgiven the guilt of my sin. - Ps 32, 5

Yes, God is quick to forgive the contrite sinner. Still my transgressions remain sometimes too dear to me, though, and contrition slow.

So let each faithful one pray to you in the time of need.
The floods of water may reach high, but such a one they shall not reach.
You are a hiding place for me; you keep me safe from distress;
you surround me with cries of deliverance. - Ps 32, 6-7

You are indeed my hiding place, my refuge, O Lord. You have delivered me from the kingdom of darkness to the kingdom of light. Help me to seek it in all things!

Reforming (phase 1), Hell and Mercy (step 6), session 5

Is choosing hell over heaven the same thing as choosing sin over God's plan for us?

I am considering someone I know who has said, in unequivocal terms, that the sin in which he has participated all of his life is so much a part of him that he chooses it rather than choosing to love his family by laying down his life for them. From his perspective it is more a case of his wife not choosing to allow his addiction to continue to influence their children's environment. Maybe he isn't fully able to choose otherwise, but he has made it clear that he also has no interest in doing so.

Yep, this could be hell.

I don't know what makes us think that laying down our lives for each other is going to be easy. And I don't know what makes some of us manage to do that, or makes others of us refuse to. But only in sacrifice do we find glory, and if we are unwilling to choose sacrifice, are we not instead choosing hell?

And you he made alive, when you were dead through the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience.  Among these we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, following the desires of body and mind, and so we were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind.  But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved), and raised us up with him, and made us sit with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.  For by grace you have been saved through faith; and this is not your own doing, it is the gift of God -- not because of works, lest any man should boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.  - Eph 2, 1-10

I'm just including the entire text of the passage for this session. There's too much here, and all of it is cause for hope that God will get hold of this man whom I love and cause him to see his need and accept the gifts of grace and love which he rejects. He is no less deserving of them than I, and even though he is hurting those I love, he knows not what he is doing.

If it weren't for my belief that God's grace is greater than our sin, I would have no hope at all for this situation.

Reforming (phase 1), Hell and Mercy (step 6), session 2

For today's meditation upon hell, I am going to draw upon the pain of the credenza falling on my foot last night and of the burning of the subsequent shots of lidocaine which ultimately numbed my toe so that the doctor could stitch it. In both cases, I knew that the pain would pass. In fact, I was walking around frantically after the credenza landed on my foot, trying to determine whether the toes which hurt were broken, and concluding that as pained as they felt, they were not. In fact, I couldn't feel the toe that is broken and cut. Suppose I could have? That would have been more hellish, I imagine. The burning of the lidocaine as it was being shot into the flesh of my toe and foot certainly was. Yet I knew three things about that which are not true of hell:

• It would be a temporary and passing pain. 
• It was ultimately for the good.

In these two ways, I suppose that the lidocaine was more like purgatory than hell.

• It was localized rather than all-encompassing.

So if I could remove those three elements, my physical pain last night might give me a glimpse into what hell might be like.

(Note to self: two more reflections on hell to write about, maybe in the same future session: watching a loved one make terrible mistakes, and how God feels on our behalf; these might be the same thing.)

They shall return and dwell beneath my shadow, they shall flourish as a garden; they shall blossom as the vine, their fragrance shall be like the wine of Lebanon. - Hos 14, 7

For the second consecutive day, the recommended scripture (Hos 14, 4-10) includes a verse which appears not to exist. 

But this reminder from God that he has prepared a better and ultimate answer for our exile is exactly the call to patience that I need as an answer to my circumstances.

Thoughts inspired by a message conversation with a friend

"I am just trying to receive the current circumstances of my life as a gift, a glimpse into God's love for his beloved sons and daughters who choose our self-centered roads over his greater desire for us. How he aches for our sake, when we lack the sense to recognize our own pain. I am also trying to remember that I am not supposed to find fulfillment in anyone except him, and to stop looking for it whence it cannot come. And I am trying to trust that he will provide it . . . .

"I feel like Lucy Pevensie's siblings in Prince Caspian: following her because I cannot see who she sees; not even quite daring to believe she has actually seen him, either; taking direction more from knowing that I lack any other way forward than from knowing God himself."

Should I take comfort that I have finally entered into the dark night of the soul, as opposed to the mere self-neglect that has heretofore been the primary constant within my spiritual walk?

Like the deer that yearns for running streams, so my soul is yearning for you, my God. My soul is thirsting for God, the living God; when can I enter and appear before the face of God? My tears have become my bread, by day, by night, as they say to me all the day long, “Where is your God?” These things will I remember as I pour out my soul: For I would go to the place of your wondrous tent, all the way to the house of God, amid cries of gladness and thanksgiving, the throng keeping joyful festival. Why are you cast down, my soul; why groan within me? Hope in God; I will praise him yet again, my saving presence and my God. My soul is cast down within me, therefore I remember you from the land of Jordan and Mount Hermon, from the Hill of Mizar. Deep is calling on deep, in the roar of your torrents; your billows and all your waves swept over me. By day the LORD decrees his merciful love; by night his song is with me, prayer to the God of my life. I will say to God, my rock, “Why have you forgotten me? Why do I go mourning oppressed by the foe?” With a deadly wound in my bones, my enemies revile me, saying to me all the day long, “Where is your God?” Why are you cast down, my soul; why groan within me? Hope in God; I will praise him yet again, my saving presence and my God. - Ps 42

with a thirst brought on by not finding water for desperate days on end though sometimes I mistake things far less than you for the object of my desire I look for sustenance from the wrong sources, from the very gifts with which you have graced me. This false bread can never sustain me. Only you can satisfy I remember the days when the simple act of praising you was sufficient to lift my spirit, to allow me to hope in you why does even praising you fail to bring me comfort? it is this vocation for which I am created. yet I will not stop praising merely because it brings no relief; indeed, you are no less worthy of my praise, and praising you is still your gift to me. the depths of my thirst long to drink from the depths of your love. as well they should. Indeed, I revile myself. yes, I shall praise you all my days, each day that you grant me, though hope itself should seem to abandon me.

Perhaps I can find a crumb of comfort in knowing that Jesus himself prayed this Psalm.

Reforming (phase 1), The Principle of Freedom (step 3), session 5

From your dwelling you water the hills;
by your works the earth has its fill.
You make the grass grow for the cattle
and plants to serve mankind’s need.
That he may bring forth bread from the earth
and wine to cheer the heart;
oil, to make faces shine,
and bread to strengthen the heart of man. - Ps 104, 3-15

What might this have to do with the Principle of Freedom? As it relates to our human vocation, it is absolutely essential that I not forget that it is God who provides for my needs. When I am in the midst of circumstances that seem overwhelming or hopeless, I can become intimidated in a way that causes me to turn away from the path to which God is calling me. I think of how long I resisted my initial entry into counseling, even as it became increasingly obvious that I was hurting the people I love most, because I could not see any way out of the hole I had dug for myself. I failed to consider the lilies - okay, I didn't quote that exact verse in this post, but it was part of the reading for that session - and to realize that God will never fail to provide for what we need.

I think this causes us so much anxiety! We agonize over every implication and ramification of each decision we might make, rather than simply making sure that we are not committing sin and trusting God to provide for the details. We forget that God is equally capable of redirecting our steps for us by placing obstacles within our path and of using the steps we take for greater glory than the ones we might have chosen in their stead. We also fail to remember that God is never surprised by any decision we make, as he has already seen us make it.

This scripture speaks directly to where I have been living. I become filled with despair when I begin to think that it is up to me to provide for everything (I think) I need and I can't see any way of doing that.

All of these look to you
to give them their food in due season.
You give it, they gather it up;
you open wide your hand, they are well filled.
You hide your face, they are dismayed;
you take away their breath, they die,
returning to the dust from which they came.
You send forth your spirit, and they are created,
and you renew the face of the earth.
May the glory of the LORD last forever!
May the LORD rejoice in his works!
He looks on the earth and it trembles;
he touches the mountains and they smoke.
I will sing to the LORD all my life,
sing psalms to my God while I live.
May my thoughts be pleasing to him.
I will rejoice in the LORD. - Ps 104, 27-34

What a wonderful song of praise. I always have freedom to fulfill my vocation of glorifying God with my life because God is always supplying my need, even when I don't see my life that way.

Listening ("week" 1, lesson 1), session 4

. . . because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew you out of my mouth.  For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing; not knowing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.  Therefore I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire, that you may be rich, and white garments to clothe you and to keep the shame of your nakedness from being seen, and salve to anoint your eyes, that you may see. Those whom I love, I reprove and chasten; so be zealous and repent. - Rev 3, 16-19

This excerpt from today's session (Rev 3, 14-22) would sting me were I not already so acutely aware of my wretched, pitiable, blind, derelict nakedness. Still, I know that while I am being completely honest with God about my status, I am not so forthcoming with someone else who should probably know. Perhaps it is a matter of my having "said something" too often for too long with no lasting changes. Perhaps I have grown weary of being a persistent widow, and if so, maybe that resignation is what needs to change in me.

Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any one hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me. - Rev 3, 20

I believe this verse to be true. Thus my hope remains, in the One in whose faith I walk, despite my frustrations.

Not where I want to be

A dear friend of the family has passed away in MD, and I am not going to be with my wife when she goes to help lay him to rest. I so wish I could be.

I will instead go that evening to the viewing for a former coworker who passed away last week, and will pray that God will use my presence here for his glory when my heart longs to be there.

Then, in two weeks, I will make an unaccompanied trip to MD for my cousin's memorial service and interment. I know that my bride will feel the same way about staying behind then that I do now, but she will be doing what we agree that she should, supporting a young high school graduate as she prepares to embark on her life's journey.

Lenten journey

I'm skeptical.

Not of God.

Well, probably of Him, too, a little.

But I'm definitely skeptical of me. I've started down this road too many years, having Lenten seasons that I end up feeling proud of - and maybe that's part of the problem - only to end up with an Easter season that proves that I have made not a bit of progress in consistently abiding with Christ. I'm afraid that, at the conclusion of this season of prayer and fasting, I will again stop making the choices that are best for me and most please my Lord.

A couple of things from the past week give me hope. First was the Office of Readings reflection from St. Augustine, on which I briefly also made reference to the second thing, the temptation of Jesus which we read about in Sunday's gospel reading at mass coupled with our relationship with him as I observed in my own reflection. A little more about the latter.

After Jesus had fasted for forty days, Scripture says he was hungry, and so he was tempted in his weakness. My Lenten journey does not contain anywhere near the fasting from food that Jesus endured, but nonetheless at the end of it I can be somewhat weakened spiritually, especially if I'm relying to strongly on my own efforts. That ends up being the source of that pride that I mentioned. See what a great Lent I had?! As if that were not truly the result of God being at work in me. So instead of building my journey upon God, I build it on my own choices. As soon as I make a poorer one, I'm back to square one. (Never square zero, thanks be to God!)

Jesus faced the temptations that arose at the end of his fast with the same reliance on God that got him through the fast in the first place. When tempted, he responded not from his efforts, but with the immutable truth.

So here's the thing: if my members were to do something contrary to what my head was commanding, that would means there was something wrong with my body, and I'd go to the doctor to figure out what was and get it fixed. But the Body of Christ does stuff contrary to what our Head commands all. the. time. As a member of his Body, when I conclude my Lenten fast, this member needs to continue consulting with my Head rather than responding in whatever ways I might want to on my own. If I should make a decision contrary to what I know is best for me in God's will, I will need to reconnect with my Head and stop being an out-of-control member. I'll need to continue being rooted in prayer and scripture, continue desiring to walk in this victory that Jesus has won for me over sin and death more than anything else I might want in this world.

A poor reason, and some good ones

Some scholars speculate that "Good Friday" comes from "God's Friday," as "good-bye" was originally "God be by you." But it is just as odd that it should be called God's Friday, when it is the day we say good-bye to the glory of God. Wherever its name comes from, let your present moment stay with this day. Stay a while in the eclipse of the light, stay a while with the conquered One. - Fr. Richard John Neuhaus, Death on a Friday Afternoon

I find myself referring to quotes I've referenced on previous readings of this magnificent book, but in new ways. I've reflected before on the first part of what I've quoted here, but am now really wanting to focus on this latter part; I've only included the first two sentences of this citation because the part I wanted to include refers back to them.

I've been told before by a Catholic adult catechist, almost dismissively, that Catholics do a great job of focusing on Good Friday and a terrible job of truly celebrating Easter. Honoring Fr. Neuhaus' invitation to not rush to the resurrection, I nonetheless find that I am utterly convinced that the reason we're so bad at rejoicing in Jesus' (our) victory is that we are, in fact, just awful at truly entering into all that Good Friday should mean for us. If it were primarily about making us wallow in our guilt then, yes, we would excel at it! If the purpose of our meditation on this day is to make us more neurotic about the terrible thing that we did to Jesus, many of us could stop right now because we have that part down pat! As Jesus told his disciples about being clean, though: But not all. There are definitely some who do not associate enough of their lives with sin that something must be done about. And when I enter into eternity, I pray that I don't find that I am one of them.

But there is so much more about Good Friday for us to enter into than just the surface ideas at which we often stop: that it was my sin and guilt that Jesus bore on the cross so that I could be free from it, that God's love for me is so great that Jesus was willing to do this for me. Please don't think I'm being dismissive of these great tenets of our faith! So many of us have failed to grasp even the surface implications of these glorious truths.

But because God is infinite and eternal and Jesus is God, there is so much more depth to enter into in our reflections on this holy day, more than we can get in a full human lifespan, let alone in the time that most of us spend at the foot of the cross. It will take eternity for us to know it fully, just as to know God fully, in the personal-relationship sense. The purpose of a redeemed soul's prayerful reflection on Good Friday is not to increase our sense of the guilt from which Jesus has set us free, but neither is knowing that we are free from our guilt a good reason to forsake any further reflection.

I find that learning more of the depth and details of this mystery into which we enter (by the Holy Spirit) fills my heart with a greater sense of awe at God's infinite glory as revealed incomparably on the cross. It strengthens my desire to share God's love with those around me who have not chosen (or been able) to immerse themselves in the unfathomable depths of this incomprehensible love. It causes me to marvel at my increased understanding of the infinite vastness and infinitesimal detail of this glorious love. It gets my eyes and thoughts and heart fixed on something - someOne - inexpressibly beyond the limits of my mind.

And it makes me more aware of the utter abandon with which I am called to lay down my own life.

Have a blessed Lent!