Thursday, February 16, 2017

Dying To Ourselves

How do we die?  Everyday we decide how and when we die.  Each and every day we are confronted with the dilemma whether or not we will die on a particular day.  At every single moment, we are forced to choose whether we are going to die to ourselves.  Do we die to ourselves, to our own desires, so we can live for our neighbor, so we can selflessly serve others?   

We find our prime exemplar of dying for others in Jesus.  In today's Gospel, we hear that 

Jesus and his disciples set out
for the villages of Caesarea Philippi.
Along the way he asked his disciples,
"Who do people say that I am?"
They said in reply,
"John the Baptist, others Elijah,
still others one of the prophets."
And he asked them,
"But who do you say that I am?"
Peter said to him in reply,
"You are the Christ."
Then he warned them not to tell anyone about him.

He began to teach them
that the Son of Man must suffer greatly
and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes,
and be killed, and rise after three days.
He spoke this openly.
Then Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him.
At this he turned around and, looking at his disciples,
rebuked Peter and said, 

"Get behind me, Satan.
You are thinking not as God does, 
but as human beings do."*   

As humans, we think of ourselves.  We aim to survive.  We strategize how we can get ahead in life.  We scheme how we can accumulate wealth; we plot how we can protect ourselves.  We look out for ourselves.  If we think at all about others, so often they are an afterthought.  After we have planned for our own protection, usually then we see how we can help others out of the surplus we have, from our carefully established place of safety and security.  

God thinks not how we think.  God wants us to rely not on ourselves, but on Him.  He wants us to give of ourselves.  He wants us to give, and to keep on giving, not counting the cost.  He wants us to set aside our concerns about how we will live, and to depend solely on Him.  

God wants us to trust in Him.  We are to share what we have with those who need it.  We are not to hoard.  We are not to have so much that we have excess resources which we never use.  

Today I heard a story from a worker about an interaction he had today reflecting this very approach to life.  He is employed in a homeless shelter.  A homeless man showed up at the shelter, asking for some food and for some socks as well as a shirt, because he was wearing a ripped shirt.  The worker heated a plate of meat and vegetables for the man, and also gave him a bag of snacks.  He found some new socks and gave them to the man.  

However, when the worker looked for a shirt in the facility's clothing supply, he could not find one in the size which the man had requested.  So the worker thought of a few shirts of his own which he had happened to bring with him to work.  He checked and saw that one of his own shirts was the size the man wanted.  Although the worker picked up a shirt which used to have sentimental value to him, he gave it to the homeless man.  

Later in the afternoon, in a different storage area where he works, the worker saw a pile of shirts, including in the size which the homeless man had requested.  The worker explained to me that he did not regret giving his shirt to the man.  "He needed it; I don't.  It had been sitting in my drawer for months without me wearing it.  Now he's using it: I saw him wearing it before he left the shelter."  

We are to share what we have with those who are poor, as Dorothy Day and Peter Maurin, who co-founded the Catholic Worker movement, urged when they would quote Saint Basil.  Saint Basil of Caesarea said 

When someone steals another's clothes, we call him a thief.  Should we not give the same name to one who could clothe the naked and does not?  The bread in your cupboard belongs to the hungry; the coat hanging unused in your closet belongs to the one who needs it; the shoes rotting in your closet belong to the one who has no shoes; the money which you hoard up belongs to the poor.  

If we are not using something, by definition we do not need it.  Someone who does not have a coat needs the one we are not using.  

When we consider divesting ourselves of possessions, it becomes easier to imagine when we realize that we have pieces of property we are not even using.  It is easy to get rid of excess baggage when we realize that it is just weighing us down.  

It also becomes easier to let go of things when we see Jesus in our neighbor.  We become able to love our neighbor when we recognize Jesus in our neighbor.  Jesus is in our neighbor, yet He is particularly and especially present in those who are in dire need.  

Jesus has told us that whatever we do to the least of those among us, we do to Him.**  Jesus also explained that when we clothe the naked, we are aiding Him.***  

When we offer a piece of clothing to the poor person in front of us, we are extending a hand to Jesus.  When we extend ourselves to the indigent, we are reaching out to Jesus.  

Sometimes we do not recognize Jesus in our neighbor.  Then we find it more difficult to give of ourselves.  In that case, we can stretch out our hand to our neighbor little by little: we can give of ourselves a little at a time.  Dorothy Day said, "It is by little and by little that we are saved." 

My mind hearkens back to one particular day when I used to live at the hermitage with the monks I so love on the Big Sur coast here in California.  We were sitting listening to a Franciscan friar speak to us about how Saint Francis of Assisi had gradually divested himself of all of his belongings.  The Franciscan priest explained that even Saint Francis, a great saint who lived in extreme poverty, begging for alms to survive, had not unloaded all of his resources in one fell swoop.  Even Saint Francis let go of his physical property by little and by little.  

Dorothy Day was quite fond of Saint Therese of Lisieux, who boldly yet simply asserted that she would get to Heaven through her "little way."  She sought to live her life through offering little acts of love to her neighbor.  

For the vast majority of us, we will get to Heaven through making such choices to give through little acts of love.  Most of us will take the path to Heaven by being lovers in this little way.  
Of course we will hear stories of momentous change in people's lives, laced with dramatic overtures through monumental choices affecting huge numbers of people.  Today at Mass I heard about how Cardinal Giuseppe Sarto relinquished his will over to God, to accept the position, even higher than that of cardinal, to which he was called.  When he realized he was going to be elected pope, he began to weep.  In the end, the other cardinals convinced him that God was calling him to be pope, and so Cardinal Sarto became Pope Pius X, as he said, "I accept the Cross."  He not only became pope, but eventually was canonized as a saint.  

Even those who are elected pope struggle.  We do well to remind ourselves that humans always find it difficult as they strive to do the will of God.  Not only popes are called to be saints.  

As Pope Francis has directed us, "We are all called to be saints."  We can be sanctified, that is, we can be drawn closer to God, in all situations in our lives, even in the tiny, seemingly insignificant little trifles cropping up in our lives.  We can make many little acts of consent to God, assenting each and every day to God and to how He asks us to give of ourselves.  Little by little we can die to ourselves.  In tiny little steps we can give up our own desires and turn more and more to loving our neighbor.  As we open our hearts more and more to our neighbor, we open our hearts more and more to God.  As we love our neighbor more, we love God more and more.  We become more and more who God has always meant us to be, praising Him and glorifying Him through all we do.  We become who God, through all eternity, has always meant us to be.  We become love.  

* Mark 8:27-33 
** Matthew 25:40 
*** Matthew 25:35-36 

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