Showing posts with label compassion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label compassion. Show all posts

Thursday, November 23, 2017

Recognize Afflicting Blessings

If we are wise, we can recognize the blessings in our afflictions.  If we truly are grateful to God, we thank Him for the adversity we face as well as the comfort we receive.  As we embrace those who are different from us, we are positioning ourselves to learn from them.  If we have faith in God, we welcome all God sends us.  If we have faith, we are saved.  

We are reminded of these truths in today's Gospel reading for Thanksgiving Day.  There we hear that 

As Jesus continued his journey to Jerusalem,
he traveled through Samaria and Galilee.
As he was entering a village, ten persons with leprosy met him.
They stood at a distance from him and raised their voices, saying,
"Jesus, Master! Have pity on us!"
And when he saw them, he said,
"Go show yourselves to the priests."
As they were going they were cleansed. 
And one of them, realizing he had been healed,
returned, glorifying God in a loud voice;
and he fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked him. 
He was a Samaritan.
Jesus said in reply,
"Ten were cleansed, were they not?
Where are the other nine? 
Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?" 
Then he said to him, "Stand up and go;
your faith has saved you."*  


These lepers may have anticipated that the apparent misfortune of their leprosy would provide the vehicle through which God would be glorified in them.  In their anguish, they cried out to Jesus to have pity on them.  Jesus, full of compassion and love for others, cured them.  The returning man recognized that God had had mercy on him, so he went back to Jesus, giving the glory and praise and honor due to God.  When we are suffering from what would usually be viewed as a malady, we can thank God for the apparently ill fortune which has befallen us, if we consider that our dilemma provides an avenue through which God can be glorified.  In our pain, we can capitalize on the excellent opportunity to earnestly call out to God to deliver us from what afflicts us.  God likes to hear us offer up ardent prayers to Him.  God hears and responds to fervent prayers.  Then when God saves us from what torments us, all the glory is due to God.  We can thank God not only for being delivered from agony, but also, realizing that trials supply opportunities for God to be glorified, we can also thank God for tribulations.  

At times we are well instructed in thanking and praising and glorifying God by those who are different from us.  The one leper who returned to thank God was a Samaritan.  Normally Jews did not associate with Samaritans.**  The foreigner demonstrated well the need to give thanks to God.  If we dismiss those who are unlike us, we run the risk of refusing to learn from them.  People dissimilar to us may have much important to teach us.  

The Samaritan, the excluded one, was saved by his faith.  Although he was a social outcast, he had the gift of faith from God.  Through that faith, he was saved.  

When we have faith, we welcome the apparent misfortune God sends us as well as the comfort He gives to us.  Having faith, and being cured, we thank God not only for the relief but also for the affliction.  With faith, we welcome into our hearts people who are not like us, aware that they can teach us since we are open to what they have to say.  Being so receptive through our faith, we are saved.  Amen.  

*  Luke 17:11-19
** John 4:9 

Wednesday, September 6, 2017

Imitating Loving Friends

Today I attended the funeral of a dear friend who I have called “Uncle.”  Uncle was a poetic and literate, religious, warm and hospitable, determined and committed, nurturing and loving soul.  I fondly remember him and treasure him in my heart for the admirable qualities he displayed.  

In what we value in our friends, we are presented with opportunities to become like them.  Our friends invite us to emulate them.  

I can honor Uncle not just by pondering what I appreciated about him.  Keeping in mind his faith, love of learning, welcoming nature, tenacity and compassion, I can strive to demonstrate these qualities as I try to love my neighbor as myself,* as Jesus instructed, and as Uncle aimed to do.  

In imitating our friends, including as we look back on our friends’ lives and recall what we appreciate about them, we can come to realize that death truly is a life-giving experience.  In feeling nourished by the consideration of the life of our dearly departed friend, we can feel joy in the midst of our sorrow.  

Uncle may have moved on to the next life, but he has left us with the gift of how he lived his life.  As I consider his death, I am moved to find new life in how he wholeheartedly embraced what God called him to do here on this earth.  

Of course we weep when our family members and friends pass on from this life to the next.  Yet in remembering how our deceased friends have lived, we can consider how we would like to live like them since they brought us joy.  In imitating our dearly departed friends, we can thus similarly bring others joy.  

Uncle was a great friend, and brought me much joy.  Realizing the joy he brought to me, I feel called to look at how he lived and how he loved.  

If we let the love of our departed friends live on in us, our friends can continue to live through us.  We can honor our deceased friends by helping them to live on through us.  

Friends live in our hearts.  They live in our hearts while they are still living in this life, and they still live in our hearts once they have passed on to the next life.  Our friends live in our hearts during our lives on this earth since we have welcomed them into our hearts.  If they remain in our hearts, they live on in our hearts once they have passed on to the next life.  

Let us consider how our friends have loved us.  Let us feel the joy our friends bring us.  A person is a friend if he helps you to love God, your neighbor and yourself.  

And so, looking back on the life of Uncle, I see a great friend.  He helped me to love God and my neighbor and myself.  And so I choose to imitate him.  

Matthew 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27; Leviticus 19:18; Romans 13:9; Galatians 5:14 

Monday, August 14, 2017

Dying For Others

July 1941.  Auschwitz.  A prisoner escapes.  In retribution, the Nazis condemn ten prisoners to death.  At roll call, they announce the names of the persons who they will send to their deaths.  One of the ten sentenced to death, Francis Gajowniczek, cries out that he has a wife and children.  Another inmate there at roll call, a Franciscan priest named Maximilian Kolbe, steps forward and says he would like to take the place of Gajowniczek.  

The Nazis agreed to the switch.  Kolbe and the other nine were subjected to forced starvation.  Despite dehydration and starvation, after two weeks Kolbe still had not died.  Kolbe was executed by a lethal injection on August 14, 1941.  

Gajowniczek later described how he could only thank Kolbe with his eyes.  He added that it was the first and the last time such an occurrence transpired at Auschwitz.  

Beauty and warmth and compassion can spring forth in the midst of horror and atrocities.  Kindness can be shown when brutality is all around us.  Love can be offered in reply to hate.  

Often we cannot control what happens to us.  However, we can always choose how we respond. When we are convinced that our freedom has been taken away from us, we can realize that we still have the free will that God has given to us because He loves us so much.  When we ask in disbelief and misunderstanding how God can allow such pain and suffering in the world, we can realize that God loves us so much that He gives us our free will.  God loves us so much that He will not force us.  God loves us so much that He lets us make our own decisions.  

Today as we celebrate the feast day of Saint Maximilian Kolbe, we can be led through the remembrance of the bravery of this saint to carefully consider our own choices.  We might never be given the chance to sacrifice ourselves courageously by physically dying for someone else.  However, in every fleeting moment of time, we can decide to die to ourselves so we can live for our neighbor in little ways.  Over and over again, we can put our neighbor before ourselves as we perform little acts of love for others, as Saint Therese of Lisieux did in her little way.  In every little action we do, we can decide to give away our lives for our neighbor, and thus save the life of our neighbor.  In each and every moment, we can choose to love our neighbor as ourselves,* as Jesus taught us to do.  

Matthew 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27; Leviticus 19:18; Romans 13:9; Galatians 5:14 

Thursday, August 10, 2017

Loving Poor Treasures

When we love, we choose to be humbled.  As we give of ourselves, we let ourselves be humbled, since we are choosing someone else over ourselves.  When we allow ourselves to be humbled, God gives us the grace to love our neighbor, including those among us who are marginalized.  By the grace of God, we can come to see how persons living on the fringes of society are more like us than we had thought, and thus come to love and cherish them.  Thus, since we come to see we are more like others than we had thought, we necessarily give up our conceptions of ourselves so that we can become who God has always intended us to be.  We let go of our images of ourselves so we can see God made us in His own image.  We relinquish our false ideas of ourselves so we can love.  As we empty ourselves of our untrue conceptions of ourselves, God can fill us up with the love* we have seen our brothers and sisters demonstrate for us over the centuries.  

Sometimes we might think this love is out of our reach.  Yet God gives us opportunities to open our hearts and choose this love.  

We can think that saints have nothing to do with us.  We can decide that we are far removed from them.  In addition to saints inspiring us through their outstanding examples, they point out to us to consider what we value, and to act accordingly.  Thus, although at first they might seem distant and unreachable, by pondering their choices, we can come to realize they are closer to us than we had thought, since like they have done, we too must decide everyday who and what are important to us.  Through our choices, we can embrace the types of people the saints treasured.  In how we opt to act, we can show we wish to love others like the saints have done, and thus be close with the saints, honoring their memory.  

Today we remember Saint Lawrence as we celebrate his feast day on this particular date.  He was a deacon in the city of Rome in the third century.  He was charged with giving aid to those in need.  Saint Lawrence loved impoverished people so much that he gave all of the money in his care to poor persons.  He even sold expensive items to be able to give more to those who were indigent.   

Since Saint Lawrence was one of those in charge of funds for the church, Roman officials ordered him to bring them the treasure of the church.  As the priest explained during his sermon today at Mass, in reply to this demand, Saint Lawrence said it would take him a few days to gather this treasure.  Then he brought disabled, blind, ill and needy individuals to the Roman officials.  Saint Lawrence maintained that these outcasts were the treasure of the church.  

In response, the Roman authorities killed Saint Lawrence.  He died while he was tied to a grill set above a fire so that he was roasted alive.  Although Saint Lawrence suffered much as he died, God gave him grace.  He had been so strengthened by God that he made light of his plight.  At one point he told those torturing him to turn him over because he was done on the side that had been cooking.  

Saint Lawrence received grace from God.  Saint Lawrence had humbled himself by cherishing those who were impoverished.  Those who are humble receive grace from God.**  

Those of humble heart are close to those who are least among us.  Jesus told us that whatever we do to those who are least among us, we do to Him.***  People who are humble welcome Jesus into their hearts.  Jesus stands at the doors of our hearts and knocks.  If we open to Him, He can come into our hearts and dine with us.****  The poor stand at our doors and knock.  Jesus, in the poor, stands at our doors and knocks.  If we let the poor in when they knock, they can come in and dine with us.  If we let them into our homes, we let Jesus into our hearts.  

Last week a young couple, interested in volunteering here at the Catholic Worker House, came here to the house, and, over coffee, said that they have let homeless persons sleep in their home.  This man and this woman have opened their hearts to those who have no place to rest their heads.  They have welcomed impoverished individuals into their home, and thus have embraced Jesus.  They have clearly demonstrated that they consider those who are poor as treasures to delicately and gently treat.  

Jesus told us, "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be."*****  Seeing who and what we value, there our hearts reside, in community with them.  As we demonstrate to others that we appreciate them, we welcome them into our hearts.  We can embrace those who are poor and treat them with dignity, helping them to see that they are treasures to be valued, rather than treating them as if they are trash to be discarded.  We can choose to show warmth and tenderness to those who are often cast aside, and thus truly love them.  

If we truly love, we will allow ourselves to be humbled.  As we consent to being humbled, God will give us the grace we need to love our neighbor.  At times in our lives, we might misperceive our neighbor and mistakenly believe she is nothing like us.  Through the grace of God, we can come to have much compassion for our neighbor, once we recognize that our neighbor is much more like us than we had thought.  Seeing our neighbor is more like us than we had thought, we come to love our neighbor as ourselves.******  As we open our hearts to love, we open our hearts to God.  As we seek to always do the will of God by always loving our neighbor, we come to love God with all our heart, mind, soul and strength.*******  Amen.  

* Romans 5:5 
** 1 Peter 5:5; James 4:6 
*** Matthew 25:40 
**** Revelation 3:20 
***** Matthew 6:21; Luke 12:34 
****** Matthew 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27; Leviticus 19:18; Romans 13:9; Galatians 5:14 
******* Deuteronomy 6:5; Deuteronomy 10:12; Matthew 22:37; Mark 12:30; Luke 10:27 

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Presently Prayerfully Loving

Today is the anniversary of the bombing of Nagasaki.  Today we also celebrate the feast day of Edith Stein, a nun martyred in Auschwitz.  One could think that these commemorations have nothing to do with how today I sat and talked with a recent college graduate.  Yet in all of these opportunities rests the duty of the present moment.  In every moment we are called by God.   
As we remember how a plutonium bomb was dropped on the Japanese city of Nagasaki exactly 72 years ago on August 9, 1945, killing tens of thousands of people, some of us might wonder what we can do to avert war.  I am convinced that in seeking world peace, the most effective step we can take is to pray.  I also strongly believe that we can take efficacious measures for world peace by praying the rosary.  One hundred years ago, at Fatima in Portugal, our Blessed Mother Mary instructed us to pray the rosary for world peace.  Had more people ardently implored our Blessed Mother Mary to intercede with her Son Jesus, the second world war would not have happened.  We fulfill the duty of the present moment when we pray.  

We also carry out the duty of the present moment, as was described in the eighteenth century by the Jesuit priest Jean-Pierre de Caussade, when we seek to do God's will.  Saint Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, previously known as Edith Stein, was raised Jewish.  However, after voraciously reading the autobiography of Saint Teresa of Avila late into the night, she not only became Catholic, but eventually also became a Carmelite nun.  Due to her Jewish heritage, the Nazis arrested her and sent her to Auschwitz, where she died 
in a gas chamber, probably exactly 75 years ago, on August 9, 1942.  She said that we surely may pray to be spared, but that certainly we should add the additional prayer to God, "Not my will be done, but Thy will be done."*  We find God's will in the present moment, so when we submit to the present moment and what it demands of us, we obey God's will.  Wherever we are in the present, there may God's will be done.  Where we find ourselves, there we pray.  

Today I found myself sitting at the kitchen table here in the Catholic Worker House with a young woman who I heard speak at Mass this past weekend.  At the end of Mass she got up and spoke briefly about how she is devoting her efforts to helping other young people who have fallen away from their faith.  She indicated she would be happy to speak with anyone who would like to hear more about her work.  After Mass, I asked her to contact me.  We arranged for her to come here to the Catholic Worker House.  

In relating to me how she aims to get to know the persons she seeks to help, I felt indirectly guided in what she said.  It seemed to me that the Holy Spirit was speaking through her.  It occurred to me that perhaps Jesus was telling me that I must get to know the homeless people and other impoverished persons I aspire to serve as a Catholic Worker.  I believe that in hearing her story, I was being told how I am to live my life, how I am to love my neighbor as myself.**  I would want someone to care enough about me to get to know me, so as to understand me; thus I should get to know others so I can better understand them.  In better understanding others, I can more easily be compassionate towards them, and thus love them as I love myself.  When I find myself in the present moment, I am to listen as best I can to my neighbor.  In giving my neighbor my full attention, and learning about her, I love my neighbor, and thus I fulfill my duty to the present moment.  


We embrace the present moment when we love our neighbor.  We carry out the duty of the present when we pray.  We open our hearts to the present when we do the will of God.  No matter how disparate the circumstances, no matter what is happening, we are called to pray and to love our neighbor, and thus do our duty right now, and thus do the will of God.  Let us open our hearts, and love God with all our heart, mind, soul and strength,*** and our neighbor as ourselves, and thus do God's will.  Amen.  


* Matthew 26:39,42

** Matthew 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27; Leviticus 19:18; Romans 13:9; Galatians 5:14 
*** Deuteronomy 6:5; Deuteronomy 10:12; Matthew 22:37; Mark 12:30; Luke 10:27 

Sunday, July 23, 2017

Tearful Liquid Prayers

Today I saw a particular homeless woman who again here I'll call "Sally."  Sally and I were talking about praying when we are crying.  

Sally shared with me, "I've heard, and I've thought  it too, that tears are liquid prayers, when we feel like we don't know what else to say to our Creator."  

I responded, "You know, it's really appropriate that you say that today.  At Mass today, one of the Bible verses that was read was about how, when we don't know how to pray, the Spirit in us expresses in groans for us what we feel we don't know how to say."*  

If we feel we don't know how to pray, we can simply offer our emotions up to God.  We can cry to God and offer our tears as loving prayers to God.  With these tears, we can offer wordless prayers to God, to express what we feel we cannot put into words.  

And for what we feel we cannot articulate in words in prayers, the Holy Spirit prays in us, in groans we feel we do not know how to utter ourselves.  Jesus sent the Holy Spirit to us** to help us to pray to our Heavenly Father.  Indeed, our Heavenly Father has sent the Holy Spirit upon us,*** since our Heavenly Father is compassionate about how we express ourselves.  

God knows we do not always have words for Him.  God accepts our wordless prayers when they are offered in humility.  God feels our tears, and hears them as prayers, when they are offered out of love of Him.  

Let us cry to God, then.  Let us offer how we feel to God, crying out to Him to help us understand how much He loves us.  Amen.  

* Romans 8:26 
** John 16:7 
*** John 14:26 

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Similarities Between Us

Earlier this week I crossed paths once more with the homeless woman who again I'll call "Kimberly."  When we met up on the sidewalk in front of the Catholic Worker House, Kimberly said she could use a sympathetic ear.  

Soon after we started talking, Kimberly began crying.  She shared how, when she is feeling down, she eats desserts without thinking how much she is eating.  Later, after she has finished eating, she recovers her senses and realizes she has stopped eating.  She added that you wouldn't know it from looking at her: she is quite slender.  


Although I don't gorge myself on sweets these days, I do cope with low moods by having dessert.  I cope in one of the same ways as the homeless woman who confessed to me that she takes methamphetamines.  


We can easily convince ourselves that we have nothing in common with homeless people.  We can believe we have nothing to do with them.  


When we get to know people, we find we are like each other.  We find we are closer together than we had thought.  When we understand others who we had thought were very different from us, we have compassion for them.  


As we find we are alike, we find the line between us and our neighbor is not as clear as we had thought.  We come to see that our neighbor is like us.  And so we come to love our neighbor as ourselves, as Jesus taught us to do.*  


Matthew 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27; Leviticus 19:18; Romans 13:9; Galatians 5:14 

Sunday, May 7, 2017

Belonging To Others

When we see how alike we are, we love each other.  We love each other when we remember that we belong to each other.  

As we see that we need others to forgive us, we forgive others.  We forgive others because we want to be forgiven.  As Jesus instructed us, if we forgive others their failings, God our Heavenly Father will forgive us.  Yet, as Jesus added, if you do not forgive others, your Heavenly Father will not forgive you.*  We are forgiven to the extent we forgive.  We determine our destinies in how forgiving we are of others, and so our fates and the fates of others are tied up in each others' hearts.  

We forgive each other because we realize we belong to each other.  We forgive one another because we do not want to try to separate ourselves from each other.  We forgive each other because we do not want to live under the illusion that we are apart from each other.  The reality is that we are a part of each other.  

Being part of one another, we see we must love one another.  Seeing we are intertwined with each other, we know we must forgive each other not only to love others, but also to love ourselves.  

Realizing we need to be forgiven too, we are realizing we need to be loved.  Forgiving each other, and thus loving each other, we love ourselves.  

I have seen these truths lived out amongst the homeless people here in Redwood City.  Although they have their disagreements, they forgive one another because they love one another.  

Recently I was in a parking lot with a couple of homeless people I know, who here I'll call "Kimberly" and "Benny."  Kimberly and Benny were arguing.  Although they were not yelling at each other, they clearly were not pleased with each other.  Even though I had already started driving away, I stopped.  I pleaded with them, "One thing."  They both stopped what they were doing and were totally intent on what I was about to say.  I implored them, "Please love one another."  

Kimberly immediately replied, "Anywhere other than Redwood City, it wouldn't be this hard."  

Having made my plea, I resumed driving away.  Often it's after the moment has passed that I think of what I would have said at the time.  

Had I thought of it at the time, I would have said to Kimberly, "Sister, stop making excuses.  You and I have the same bad habit: we need to stop making excuses."  

By coming up with excuses, we seek to absolve ourselves of responsibility.  As the French priest Jean-Pierre de Caussade noted, our duty to God rests in the present moment.  To embrace the present moment, we need to be accountable for our actions in the present moment.  We must admit where we have gone wrong and how we can improve.  I struggle with this call to accept what I have done and how I can better behave.  Typically I start to explain.  I begin supplying the context for my actions.  Often people need not know what else was going on when I did what I did. Rather, we can be silent and simply focus on what we are called to do in that moment, namely, examine our own actions and how we can conduct ourselves better next time.  

To help me better prepare for another opportunity to take responsibility for my own actions, I am encouraged by my sister Kimberly.  She reminds me that I am not the only one challenged by the need to acknowledge the shortcomings in our own behavior.  

I see this and other similarities between Kimberly and myself, since I know we are more alike than many people think.  I look past the differences between her and me, so she can help me to grow.  Someone once told me, "Kimberly does meth."  Were I to dismiss Kimberly because supposedly she is addicted to methamphetamines, I would lose the insights I gain about myself through her.  Welcoming her into my heart, I allow her to teach me about myself.  Seeing the commonalities between her and me, I realize that she and I are alike in important ways.  
The Dutch priest Henri Nouwen noted this truth, that we share more similarities than we initially think, during his time living with mentally disabled persons at one of the homes in the L'Arche movement founded by Jean Vanier.  Nouwen realized that living with mentally disabled persons brought him closer to his own vulnerabilities.  He explained that 

While at first it seemed quite obvious who was handicapped and who was not, living together day in and out made the boundaries less clear. . . . And when I had the courage to look deeper, to face my emotional neediness, my inability to pray, my impatience and restlessness, my many anxieties and fears, the word 'handicap' started to have a whole new meaning.  The fact that my handicaps were less visible . . . didn't make them less real.  

At first it may seem very clear who is the one with the problems.  We can easily conclude, "That drug addict is not like me."  We can quickly misapprehend ourselves and others, and mistakenly declare, "That person is messed up; I am fine."  Sooner or later we realize we share some of the same frailties that societally despised persons exhibit.  I have been told that Kimberly suffers from depression, and that she takes meth to cope with the depression she feels.  I suffer from depression if my blood sugar level drops too low, and so I cope with depression by consuming sugar.  Kimberly is addicted to meth, and I am addicted to sugar.  I deliberately use that word: if I do not get enough sugar, my mood not only plummets, but my perceptions become severely distorted.  Since the only chemical recourse I have to alleviate my depression is sugar, I am literally addicted to sugar.  While Kimberly has chosen a less healthy, less socially acceptable, and more disruptive way to cope with her depression, nevertheless the fact remains that she and I suffer from the same problem, that of depression.  

When we glance at someone, we may dismiss that person.  If we only get a glimpse of someone, we may think we have nothing in common with that person.  At first it may seem quite obvious who is disabled and who is not.  Initially it might seem apparent who is the one with problems and who is the one without problems.  Once we get to know people, and once we see how others are like us, it might become less clear who is who.  

Kimberly lives in a tent pitched behind some bushes.  I live in a Catholic Worker House.  Kimberly suffers from depression, and so do I.  Just because I cope with my mental disability in a more socially acceptable way, in a less unhealthy manner, and less disruptively than Kimberly deals with hers doesn't mean she and I don't share a mental disability.  Just because my mental disability is less evident than Kimberly's doesn't negate the fact that she and I suffer from the same condition.  

Kimberly and I share a common hardship.  Having seen that we both have the same deficiency, we are empowered to love one another.  In the past, it could have seemed only like a curse; now through the light of love, it is a blessing since it enables us to understand each other better and thus to love one another.  When we see why our neighbor acts the way she acts, we come to have compassion on her.  Realizing that we share much which is important, we come not only to respect our neighbor, but truly to love our neighbor.  We see that in loving our neighbor, we are loving ourselves.  We see that God calls us to love our neighbor as ourselves** since we belong to each other.  We see that to have peace, we must remember that we belong to each other, as Saint Teresa of Calcutta implicitly urged.  

It seems that those who are homeless here in Redwood City have realized these truths.  Weeks after Kimberly and Benny exchanged sharp words in that parking lot, I crossed paths with Benny.  As we were talking, I mentioned Kimberly.  He asked me, if I were to see her, to tell her that he had her bicycle.  I told him I would convey that message to her if I saw her.  

Then my tear ducts opened.  I added, "That's why I love you all so much, all of you who are homeless here in Redwood City.  Even if you're angry with each other, you still help each other."  
Benny, who already had been speaking in a low tone of voice, lowered his voice even further.  He replied softly, "Yeah... we look out for each other."  

We look past our differences because we know are similar.  We forgive when we realize how similar we are.  When we see our faults in others, we are led to forgive them, for both their sakes as well as ours.  We forgive because our hearts are tied up with each other.  

We forgive because we love.  We love because we belong to each other.  We love because we belong to God.  We are a part of each other because God made us to love Him and one another.  In forgiving, and thus in loving, we embrace not only each other, but also the truth that we belong to each other and to God, and thus become who God has always intended us to be.  

* Matthew 6:14-15; Mark 11:25-26 
** Matthew 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27; Leviticus 19:18; Romans 13:9; Galatians 5:14 

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Seventy-Seven Times

Our hearts are small; we think of love in limited ways.  God's love is infinite.  Since God is so merciful, God forgives us for our grievous offenses against Him, for what we owe to Him but could never pay to Him.  Yet we hold onto much smaller offenses and hold them against our neighbor.  We must forgive our neighbor if we want God to forgive us.  

And so we hear in today's Gospel reading that 

Peter approached Jesus and asked him,
"Lord, if my brother sins against me,
how often must I forgive him?
As many as seven times?"
Jesus answered, "I say to you, not seven times 

but seventy-seven times.
That is why the Kingdom of Heaven may be likened to a king
who decided to settle accounts with his servants.
When he began the accounting,
a debtor was brought before him who owed him a huge amount.
Since he had no way of paying it back,
his master ordered him to be sold,
along with his wife, his children, and all his property,
in payment of the debt.
At that, the servant fell down, did him homage, and said,
'Be patient with me, and I will pay you back in full.'
Moved with compassion the master of that servant
let him go and forgave him the loan.
When that servant had left, he found one of his fellow servants
who owed him a much smaller amount.
He seized him and started to choke him, demanding,
'Pay back what you owe.'
Falling to his knees, his fellow servant begged him,
'Be patient with me, and I will pay you back.'
But he refused.
Instead, he had him put in prison
until he paid back the debt.
Now when his fellow servants saw what had happened,
they were deeply disturbed, and went to their master
and reported the whole affair.
His master summoned him and said to him, 

'You wicked servant!
I forgave you your entire debt because you begged me to.
Should you not have had pity on your fellow servant,
as I had pity on you?'
Then in anger his master handed him over to the torturers
until he should pay back the whole debt.
So will My Heavenly Father do to you,
unless each of you forgives your brother from your heart."*  

As humans we have limited conceptions of love.  We think we are to forgive our neighbor merely seven times.   

God is infinite, so God loves us infinitely.  When Jesus answers Peter's question, Jesus uses a figure of speech.  Jesus tells Peter that he is to forgive his neighbor not just seven times, but seventy-seven times.  

How do we know that Jesus is using a figure of speech when he tells Saint Peter that he is to forgive his neighbor not just seven times, but seventy-seven times?  Why is it significant that Jesus uses a figure of speech to answer Saint Peter's question?  Jesus follows up on his answer to Saint Peter with a parable.  In the parable, a debtor owed a huge amount to his master.  There was no way he could ever repay it all.  The debtor did not owe ten times a usual amount.  The debtor owed a gigantic sum: the debtor never would be able to repay the debt owed to his master.  

There is no way to completely repay God.  God created us; therefore, we can never pay him back.  There is nothing we can possibly do to completely satisfy this debt: God did something for us far beyond what we could ever do for Him.  

In creating us, God showed us tremendous love, love which we can never repay.  In creating us, God began to show us why all glory, praise and honor is due to Him.  

God created us, yet we sin.  God has immense love for us, yet we show grossly insufficient gratitude to Him.  

As Saint Catherine of Siena related that God had told her, God is infinite goodness.  She added that God explained to her that to sin against God commits an offense which demands infinite satisfaction.  

If God would not forgive us, we would be doomed.  God, in His great mercy, forgives us.  

Accordingly, we are to beg God for mercy.  God will forgive us if we earnestly implore Him to be merciful to us.  

Yet our neighbors commit far lesser offenses against us, and we insist on enslaving our neighbors for what they have done.  Consequently we enslave ourselves.  If we refuse to forgive our neighbor, God will not forgive us.  

Jean Vanier wrote that people escape from the prisons of past hurts as they learn to forgive.  As we learn to forgive, and to let go of the past injuries we have suffered, we are liberated from the pain which has been holding us hostage.  As we relent and forgive our neighbor, we free our neighbor from the anguish and regret they may feel, and from the hurt we inflict on them by failing to forgive them.  

Otherwise, if we refuse to forgive our neighbor, we can end up in prison for a long time with our neighbor.  Consequently the road to forgiveness can be long, with many turns.  Almost certainly we will have to keep forgiving our neighbor, just as we too would like to be repeatedly forgiven.  

I think of two particular homeless people I know.  A little over a month ago, on Valentine's Day, I wrote of how Jocelyn had stuck by her boyfriend Jonny despite his drug use.  Later in the day on Valentine's Day, after I had posted that blog entry, Jonny told me that he had broken up with Jocelyn.  He explained that she was always keeping him up at midnight.  He told me, "I can't live like this; I need to get up in the morning so I can go to work."  Despite their breaking up, a few weeks later I heard that he had been thanking those who bring food, beverages and clothing to Jocelyn when he's not around.  Yesterday I saw Jocelyn and Jonny together just outside their tent where they sleep in the bushes.  Jocelyn and Jonny forgive each other.   

I think of another specific homeless person I know, who again here I'll call "Brendon."  A couple of weeks ago, I had heard that after he had been abusing hard drugs, Brendon entered a drug treatment program.  I saw him about a week ago.  He told me he had gotten high the previous day.  We can judge Brendon and others who are also homeless, who are also addicted to illicit substances.  Or we can listen to them.  We can love them.  

In the last couple of weeks, Brendon also told me, "I've always lived in institutions and in foster homes.  I don't know how to function in society."  If we're busy judging Brendon and others on the fringes of society, our hearts are not open to them.  If we're judging Brendon and others who are marginalized, we're not forgiving them.  If we forgive our neighbor, we can listen to our neighbor.  When we listen to our neighbor, we can understand our neighbor.  When we understand our neighbor, we come to love our neighbor.  As we come to know our neighbor, we come to love our neighbor as ourselves.**    

When we forgive our neighbor, we love our neighbor.  When we choose forgiveness, we let God love our neighbor through us.  When we forgive, we turn to God.  When we forgive, we become love.  

* Matthew 18:21-35 
** Matthew 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27; Leviticus 19:18; Romans 13:9; Galatians 5:14 

Thursday, March 16, 2017

Compassionately Loving Neighbors

We show who we are in how we react when we see others suffering.  We declare who we are in what we wear and what we eat.  We proclaim who we are by what we do with the abundant resources at our disposal.  We determine our eternal destiny when we make these choices.  In choosing whether we are compassionate now, we decide where we are going.  We are to be compassionate and merciful toward our neighbor, just as God is compassionate and merciful towards us.  

And so we hear in today's Gospel that Jesus said to the Pharisees 

"There was a rich man 
who dressed in purple garments and fine linen
and dined sumptuously each day.
And lying at his door was a poor man named Lazarus, 

covered with sores,
who would gladly have eaten his fill of the scraps
that fell from the rich man's table.
Dogs even used to come and lick his sores.
When the poor man died,
he was carried away by angels to the bosom of Abraham.
The rich man also died and was buried,
and from the netherworld, where he was in torment,
he raised his eyes and saw Abraham far off
and Lazarus at his side.
And he cried out, 'Father Abraham, have pity on me.
Send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water 

and cool my tongue,
for I am suffering torment in these flames.'
Abraham replied, 'My child,
remember that you received what was good during your lifetime
while Lazarus likewise received what was bad;
but now he is comforted here, whereas you are tormented.
Moreover, between us and you a great chasm is established
to prevent anyone from crossing
who might wish to go from our side to yours
or from your side to ours.'
He said, 'Then I beg you, father, send him
to my father's house,
for I have five brothers, so that he may warn them,
lest they too come to this place of torment.'
But Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the prophets.
Let them listen to them.'
He said, 'Oh no, father Abraham,
but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.'
Then Abraham said,
'If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets,
neither will they be persuaded
if someone should rise from the dead.'"*    


We can go about our day meditating on how we are affecting others or not pondering how we are affecting them.  We decide whether or not we acknowledge the impoverished person standing on the street asking for assistance.  Either we give to such individuals or we do not give to them.  Do we even think about how we affect their lives?  At every moment, we choose whether or not we are going to evaluate how our actions are impacting others.  

Like the rich man in the parable, do we wear fine clothing?  If we do, do we consider how it was made, by whom, and under what conditions?  Was it made by young children?  Was it manufactured by a destitute person, who is living in an underdeveloped country, who is not making enough money to live in safe, clean housing and to eat a nutritionally balanced diet everyday?  Gandhi said, "There is no beauty in the finest cloth if it causes hunger and unhappiness."  If we are not mindful of how the clothing was made that we wear, we might be financially supporting unjust working conditions of extremely poor persons.  We might be turning a blind eye to the plight of impoverished persons as we wear the fine cloth they have sewn in their underpaid labor.  

Similar to the rich man in the parable, do we eat delectable food everyday?  Who helped supply the ingredients in the food we eat?  Who picked the fruits and vegetables we eat?  Were they paid a fair wage for their back-breaking work?  In the companies we patronize, we are indirectly ratifying how they treat their employees.  In the marketplace, we vote with our dollars.  We can express our values in how we spend our cash.  By consciously directing our funds to companies which fairly treat their employees, we can show real, effective concern for our neighbors who are economically struggling.  

Do we too encounter an impoverished person who is languishing in illness?  Do we do anything to help such persons heal?  I think of a doctor I met who volunteers his services here in northern California.  He provides free medical care to homeless people.  These particular indigent persons push their belongings around in shopping carts.  They sleep in tents on sidewalks.  This doctor does not see himself as being above them.  He meets with them.  He sits down with them.  He serves them.  He does what he can to help them to heal.  He sees the sores on their bodies and not only believes that they deserve better than having their sores licked by dogs, as occurred in the parable.  He welcomes them, listens to them and does what he can to remedy their ailments.  He is not ignoring them, but is doing what he can to care for them.  

We too can help hurting people to heal.  When we cross paths with a homeless person, we can apply a soothing medicine to them as we simply acknowledge their presence.  In this easily applied remedy, we restore their dignity to them.  In merely greeting them, we admit that they are human beings who are worthy of our attention.  In simply speaking with them with courtesy, we give them a valuable gift of respect.  

Do we encounter people who would gladly eat their fill from the scraps of food from our tables, as Lazarus would have done with the scraps from the table of the rich man?  Again, we can easily, with almost no effort, hand food to homeless people.  If we know we are going to be walking down particular streets where we likely will pass homeless people, we can plan so that we bring extra food with us to give to them.  On a larger scale, I have happily and joyously witnessed companies here in Silicon Valley donating their food leftovers, from the lunches they provide their employees, to charitable organizations serving needy individuals.  There are many ways for the rich man to share his scraps with the least of those among us.  

Once we die, we will be sent where we deserve to be sent as a result of who we have helped.  After we die, we will go where we deserve to go based on what we have done.  

After death, what we receive will based on what we have given.  If we want to receive, we must give.  Today at Mass, in his homily the priest explained that if we give, then we receive.   

If we give our love to someone else, then we too are recipients of that love.  The Trappist monk Thomas Merton beautifully and eloquently explained that "love can only be kept by being given away."  He wrote that if we truly love others, then their good becomes our good.  Then we truly wish the best for other people.  Then we are compassionate for other persons, because we are so identified with them that we seek our good solely in their well-being.  

When we truly love our neighbor, then when someone, when the poor man at our doorstep, asks that we have pity on him, we most certainly express compassion for such a person in how we care for him.  Truly loving our neighbor, we do not turn a blind eye to the suffering of our neighbor.  

However, after death, will we be asking that pity be had on us?  Will we be asking to be relieved of suffering?  

During our life, what have we received?  During others' lives, what have they received?   

Do we live in luxury without acting out of compassion for those who live without basic necessities such as housing, food, clothing and medical care?  Do we turn away from the agony others are enduring?  If so, we invite eternal torment upon ourselves, the anguish of others that we refuse to alleviate now, while we still can.  

During Mass today, the priest noted that Lenten observances of more intense prayer, fasting and almsgiving are ultimately about stirring us to be more compassionate.  Through undertaking such penitential practices, we are to be led to be more merciful and compassionate toward our neighbor.  During Lent, we are to be moved to act, to ease the suffering of our neighbor.  

Now is the time to be compassionate.  After we die, we will not be able to send someone to warn others, to urge them to love their neighbor as themselves.**  

In the parable, the rich man asked Abraham to send Lazarus back from the dead to warn his brothers that they might have compassion and love their neighbor.  Abraham responded that they have Moses and the prophets, and that they should listen to them.  

The rich man realized that his brothers would not listen to the law of love that Moses delivered to the people.  He also knew that they also would not listen to the message of repentance from sin that the prophets had delivered over centuries.  The rich man replied that if someone from the dead went to them, they would repent.  Abraham told the rich man that if people don't believe Moses and the prophets, neither will they believe if someone comes back from the dead.  

I think of the book "90 Minutes In Heaven" and the film based on that book.  In this book and in this film, we hear from a man who died and came back to life.  He explains how, when he was dead, he went to Heaven.  He is only one of the people who have described this journey.  Persons have gone to Heaven and back: people still do not believe.  

Even though we already were given enough in Moses and the prophets, and in Jesus, who is The Word made flesh, suffering and dying for us to save us from our sins, and rising from the dead, still God gives more to us.  Although God had already given us plenty of signs and messages to convince us to believe, God loves us tirelessly.  God will keep trying to convince us to turn to Him.  God is love,*** and so God will keep on loving us forever.  

God loves us infinitely more than we can understand, since God is love, God is infinite, and God loves us infinitely.  God is merciful toward us, and has infinite compassion toward us.  

Thus we are called to be merciful, just as God is merciful to us.****  We are called to be compassionate, just as God is compassionate toward us.  We are called to love our neighbor, just as God loves us.  

* Luke 16:19-31 
** Matthew 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27; Leviticus 19:18; Romans 13:9; Galatians 5:14 
*** 1 John 4:8; 1 John 4:16  
**** Luke 6:36