Walking on Water

(If they decide to walk on water they've got their life jackets)

Today's Gospel presents one of my favorite pictures: Peter getting out of the boat and walking toward Jesus on the water.

Wow. Amazing. This shouldn't be possible. But he's doing it. And then just as suddenly he looks around notices the waves and the wind and realizes that he shouldn't be doing it.

And then... he's not. He's sinking.

And he reaches out to Jesus and asks for help.

And Jesus provides it.

So the lesson, short and sweet is trust in the Lord in all things - and don't be afraid to ask for help.

On a side note I remember when we were kids playing in our backyard pool and we would try to walk on water. It was from the Bugs Bunny school of walking in air. We would get a running start and run right over the edge of the pool to see how long we could keep "running" before we landed in the water. Maybe a step - if our legs were really fast - maybe two.

We never successfully walked on water. We didn't really expect to.

And maybe that's the difference. Trusting in the Lord means expecting things to happen. When Peter stopped expecting to be able to walk on the water - he stopped being able to walk on the water. And when he called out for help - Jesus didn't make him able to walk on water again. Jesus pulled him out of the water and helped him to the boat.

And as one final thought there is the book title I love (haven't read the book - but think it's a great title) "If You Want to Walk on Water, You've Got to Get out of the Boat"*

We'll call this one "If you want to take a boat ride you need to get into the water"

*by John Ostberg
**pictures from last years adventure to Uncle Andy's Cabin

A Matter of Habit

While watching some of the Pope's visit yesterday, Pippi noticed that one of the nuns being introduced to the Pope wore a white habit.

"Why is she wearing white?"

"That's her habit."

"I thought nuns wore black" (we don't encounter too many nuns in our parish, one doesn't wear a habit at all, another does wear darker colors and a veil; not a full habit though)

"Not all," I explained, "different orders have different kinds of habits; different colors. There are a lot of different orders to choose from if you want to be a nun. Some don't wear habits at all." Then I went on to tell her that I've read that the orders that seem to be attracting the most new members are the ones who have habits.

Pippi saw the sense in that. "If I were going to be a nun, I'd want to wear a habit," she said.

"So people would know you were a nun?" I asked.

"That, and because if I were dressed like that it would remind me that I'm supposed to be worshiping God and praying."

Interesting observation.

Good Shepherd Sunday

I was discussing with the kids today that it was Good Shepherd Sunday and Pippi commented that her favorite parable was the one with the lost sheep.

"I love that Jesus goes out to find that one lost sheep; leaving the other 99," she said.

I agreed with her, but added this thought, "I've always wondered though - as important as it is to go after that one lost one - how does he know the other 99 will be there when he comes back. 95 more might go missing." (hasn't anyone else ever wondered this?)

Pippi thought for a minute. "That's why we have the Pope," she decided, "he keeps us together while we wait for Jesus to come back with the one lost one."

I like that. I also think it's appropriate that the Pope, our shepherd on Earth, is coming the week after Good Shepherd Sunday.

Fifth Sunday of Lent

Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead.

What an amazing story this is. The man is dead. Really and truly dead. He's been in the tomb four days. He's going to smell. This is no 'oh he just seemed dead, but now he's better' kind of dead. When Jesus raised the little girl from the dead - he didn't even let the family really know what he had done. He just told them she'd been sleeping. They probably doubted their earlier judgment - maybe she wasn't really dead after all - but it sure seemed like it. But no one could doubt that Lazarus was dead.

This is of course why Jesus waited several days to show up in Bethany. If He'd gone while Lazarus was still on his sick bed and cured him (which, of course was what Martha and Mary were hoping for) there would be people who could have doubted. "I knew he was going to get better all along."

If He'd gotten there as soon as Lazarus had died and raised him from the dead people still would have doubted. "He wasn't really dead. People don't come back from the dead. He was just really sick and now he's been made well again."

But Jesus waited until there could be no doubt that Lazarus was really and truly dead. He'd been in the tomb four days. This was beyond the point of 'oh, maybe we made a mistake and he wasn't dead after all.' He was dead.

And then he wasn't dead any more. And there could be no doubt about why. People had come to be with Mary and Martha - and now they believed. A lot more people believed than would have believed otherwise.

However. Poor Mary and Martha. They don't know about Jesus' larger plan. They don't know that he needs to reveal himself to more people in a way that will get those people to believe, before he himself is killed.

They only know that their brother is sick. Very sick. And they call for their friend Jesus. And He was their friend. He stayed at their house often. He loved them. They had seen Him cure people and perform miracles. They believed in Him. Probably as much as anyone in those days; they believed in Him.

But where was He? They knew He could cure Lazarus. They had faith in Him. But He didn't come. He didn't cure Lazarus. He had let them down.

Like us they turned to Jesus in their time of trouble - but they didn't get the answer they were looking for. How often do we pray and not get the answer we hoped for? Do we then say that God did not hear our prayer? Or that he doesn't care? Or that he has abandoned us?

Perhaps that is what Mary and Martha thought. It would be natural if they did. But they did not know God's greater plan. Jesus did something even more amazing than curing their brother. He brought him back from the dead. It was his greatest miracle up to that point.

Jesus did not let them down. Jesus did not abandon them. And neither does Jesus abandon us; even when our prayers are not answered in a way we like. Mary and Martha understood the fullness of Jesus' plan for their brother within days of feeling let down. In some circumstances we may not understand God's greater plan for many years.

But God does not abandon us.

Greet With Love

Listening to today's Gospel about Zacchaeus got me thinking. Zacchaeus was known as a sinner - he was a tax collector, and in that capacity had probably cheated people (I seem to remember reading somewhere that that was more or less how Roman tax collector's made their money - whatever extra they could collect, they got to keep - but I'm not an expert and I may be wrong). But Zacchaeus was interested in seeing Jesus. Did he know that he was living his life in the wrong way and was looking for a chance to change, or did he just go out to see because he was curious?

It doesn't really matter. He went. He climbed the tree. And Jesus called to him. Jesus called to him and Zacchaeus went. And once we went he immediately repented of all he had done wrong and promised to be better.

He repented after he was greeted by Jesus.

Jesus met the sinner with love and the sinner gave up his sinful ways. Jesus did not wait for the sinner to stop sinning and repent before he called to him. He called to the sinner and greeted him with love.

Do we do the same?

Contemplation

There are times when I'm able to totally grasp the enormity of God's love for us. I can feel pure joy in the realization that God wants what is best for us at all times. I can praise Him with all my heart and soul.

These times are fleeting.

Not because I doubt His love the rest of the time. But because real life tends to intrude. And while dealing with children who are fighting or dealing with crazy drivers or waiting to check out at the supermarket, it's easy to not think about the enormity of God's love for us. It's easy to just get caught up in what we are doing at the times.

Sometimes I think it might be nice to be a contemplative nun. They can spend all their time letting their hearts and souls dwell on majestic things.

You know, though - I bet that even nuns in a contemplative order have trouble with real life intruding now and then. So the question becomes - how to think on the greater things when dealing with the little things. I wonder if there is an answer.

St. John the Baptist

Today is the feast of the Nativity of John the Baptist. (Incidentally, since John is six months older than Jesus, I suppose that means we're about six months away from Christmas.)

John is an interesting fellow. We don't know a lot about him, but we know more about him than we do many people mentioned in the bible.

His birth was a surprise to his parents. They were old. I'm not sure what this meant in biblical times. Was Elizabeth actually elderly - or just beyond the normal child-bearing years? It doesn't matter much. The point was that no one expected Elizabeth and Zachariah to have a child. Including themselves. But a messenger from God comes to Zachariah and tells him that he and his wife are going to have a baby. He is openly skeptical and doubtful and thus is struck mute until the event should unfold.

This has always seemed a little unfair to me. After all, Zachariah had reason on his side. There was no reason to suspect that after all this time Elizabeth would finally become pregnant. And, Mary also questioned. She asked the angel how this thing would happen to her since she knew no man. Also a reasonable question. I suppose it was all a matter of tone.

Regardless, Zachariah is mute for the next nine months, regaining his voice when he lets the assembled gathering at his son's circumcision know that the boy's name is John.

And during Elizabeth's pregnancy, of course, Mary visits, and the babe in Elizabeth's womb leaps with recognition of the Lord.

After John's birth though, we don't see him again until he is a grown man. Did he and Jesus ever meet? They were related after all. How long did his parents live? They were old when he was born. Was he orphaned young? Some suspect he went and lived with a group of Essenes in the desert.

Whatever he did, he eventually ended up preaching in the desert and baptizing people in the Jordan. He must have been a pretty powerful presence - people suspected that he was the Messiah.

But he wasn't the Messiah. He was only preparing the way.

And he knew it.

That's the interesting thing. John did not attempt to take any glory for himself. He did not try to make himself important. People were following him; flocking to him. It would have been easy to start to believe that they were coming all because of him, and that he was a person of great importance. And when Jesus appeared on the scene, John knew to back off. Because he knew that what was important was his mission and his message.

And really - isn't that's what's important for all of us. Who we are doesn't matter as much as the message we give and live.

John's message was that the Messiah was coming.

Our message should be that the Messiah has come. And he is still among us in his own way.

John did a wonderful job of spreading his message. How are we doing spreading ours?

The Feast of Corpus Christi

The body and blood of Christ.

We get used to hearing that. It isn't shocking to our sensibilities anymore.

But I remember when Harry was small - maybe three - and he picked up on part of the Eucharistic prayer where the priest says "take this, all of you, and drink from it: this is the cup of my blood." Harry looked at me in horror and loudly (please note the loudly) said "He wants us to drink his blood?!"

Yes. Yes he does. And maybe the whole fact should shock and astonish us just a little more than it usually does.

Wisdom - and do we want it?

Today is the feast of the Trinity, and in his homily today, Father Jim discussed how the Holy Spirit manifests itself as Wisdom. And how a lot of us really don't want too much wisdom.

It's true, isn't it? There are plenty of things that we "know" we should or shouldn't do - but we do what feels good to us anyway.

Should exercise: would rather sit and read or watch TV or well, just sit.
Should eat healthier: would rather have that cookie.
Should do more volunteer work: would rather have the time to ourselves.

The wisdom is out there, and we know it's out there. We just aren't always willing to utilize it.

I'm sure everyone can think of examples where this is true in their own lives. But whether we exercise or not, or eat that extra cookie, doesn't have all that much to do with our spiritual life. I'm sure, however that there are plenty of spiritual examples most people could come up with.

I know for myself, I know I should pray more, read the bible more, maybe get to daily mass more. Somehow it's much easier to come up with excuses, than to do it.

But God does provide the wisdom to us. The Holy Spirit will guide us, will show us the right way, will offer infallible advice.

The questions is: Are we brave enough to ask for this advice - and the changes we might have to make to our lives should we choose to accept it?

Good Shepherd Sunday

Jesus said:
“My sheep hear my voice;
I know them, and they follow me.
I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish.
No one can take them out of my hand.
My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all,
and no one can take them out of the Father’s hand.
The Father and I are one.” (John 10:27-30)

I don't know much about sheep. My only encounters with them have been in parks that used to be farms, where a few animals are kept so children (and adults) can see them. My understanding though is that sheep are not particularly bright animals (if someone knows differently, feel free to correct me on this) and therefore truly do need a shepherd to guide them.

Today's Gospel reminds us that Jesus is the Good Shepherd.

What does that mean to us?

Are we like sheep that blindly follow whoever might be around to lead us?

Well, we are, kind of - as hard as that is to accept.

Think of the 'shepherds' who are out there willing to lead the flock.

There's the entertainment industry, the 'Madison Avenue' types who write the ads, there are people who preach that the only good is secular, and people who preach hate for those who aren't made in the same mold as they are.

We need to watch who we follow.

Jesus is there, waiting for us to follow him. If we listen, we do know his voice. And he knows us. He wants us to follow him, he wants to lead us to His Father. But hHe can't make us follow him. It has to be our choice.

Sometimes it looks like the other shepherds would be easier to follow. It is easier to conform to a secular culture than to live a religious life. But the easy way is not the way to God. Jesus is the way to God. He told us that. He will lead us there, if we chose to follow.

He is the Good Shepherd - the one we should follow. It shouldn't be hard to remember that, but sometimes it is.

images from FreeFoto.com

The Tomb is Empty

Several years ago, when my parents went to Jerusalem, my father kept a journal of his experiences. He gave me permission to use parts of it here if I wanted to. I thought his experience at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher would make a good Easter post.

Here it is also that we stand in line for maybe one-half hour or more to get into the Holy Sepulcher, the holiest shrine in Christendom. Our guide, a wonderful Jewish man, tells us, as we wait, that we are about to make a discovery that is the foundation of our faith. We are about to make the same discovery that Peter made 2,000 years ago, and that the two Marys made, and the disciples, and an untold number of pilgrims throughout the ages. We would enter the Tomb and we would find there – nothing. The Tomb is empty – He is not there.

I really didn’t have to travel 7,000 odd miles to find that out. I believed that before I left home. But, actually being there made me KNOW that He is not there. So, why do I, like the apostles, look for the Living among the dead?

He is not there, so He must be someplace else. I can no longer install my God in a tomb, in a shrine, or in a tabernacle and close the door and shut Him safely away until I want to take Him out and worship Him again. No, if there is a message to me from Jerusalem, it is that Jesus Christ is alive; that I don’t have need of signs and wonders, because, if I will only open my eyes. He is visible to me. And, when I see Him, He asks me to love Him wherever I find him as unconditionally as He loves me. That is the message to me from Jerusalem. My challenge is to open my eyes and seeing my God, to love Him where I find Him.
( WVK - March 1990)

And on the lighter side, for another view of Easter, peek back at last year's post when I shared Pippi's story of Easter, told when she was four.

Happy Easter. He is Risen. The tomb is empty.

Help Me, I'm Lost

A number of years ago my parents took a trip to Jerusalem. One day they wanted to explore a little without the tour group. They asked the tour guide how to get to a particular spot and he pointed them in the proper direction.
"But," my father asked. "What about coming back, how will we find our way back?"
"Not to worry," the tour guide told them. "If you have trouble, just stop someone and say 'Hoshianna'."
"Hosannah?" My father asked. "Just say, Hosannah?"
"Yes, but you are pronouncing it wrong," the guide said. "It's Hoshianna. It means 'Help me, I am lost.'"

So on this Palm Sunday, as we say Hosannah and remember Jesus' triumphal entry into the city of Jerusalem, let us remember what we are really saying to him. "Help me, Jesus. I am lost." And it's a perfect thing to say to Jesus, because after all, who better to help us find our way.

But How did They Know Who They Were?

I've always liked the Gospel story of the Transfiguration. I like that the apostles fall asleep while waiting for Jesus to finish praying - it makes them seem very human. I like that Jesus was conversing with Moses and Elijah - the way that the Old and the New Testaments fit together and form a whole. I like that Peter's first inclination upon awaking and seeing the sight is to build three monuments (somehow I definitely think that if it happened in this day and age a monument would be built.) I like that God speaks to them from a cloud.

But.

I've always had a question.

See, there was no photography back in the first century - or beyond, when Moses and Elijah would have been alive. And the Jews did not allow graven images - so it is unlikely there would have been any paintings or statues of the two men. So - what I've always wondered - is how did Peter, James and John immediately know that they were Moses and Elijah. Why didn't they think - "who are those old guys up there with Jesus? They didn't come up the mountain with us. "

I suppose the logical answer is that God granted them the knowledge.

May God grant us the knowledge we need in our own lives.

Following Him

Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid;
from now on you will be catching men.”
When they brought their boats to the shore,
they left everything and followed him. (Luke 5:10-11)

They just left everything and followed.

Pretty big leap of faith.

Could I do it?

I'd like to think I could. But then, I think if Jesus asks were to come and ask this of me - I would know he was someone who could be trusted. I would know he was God.

They didn't know Jesus was the Son of God. They didn't know he would rise from the dead. He was a preacher; a teacher. He worked miracles and told stories. He lived an itinerant life, with no visible means of support - he didn't appear to be pursuing a career as a carpenter at this time.

And yet they left everything and followed him.

They left families.

They left jobs.

They left houses.

And for what? A period of time on the road - living on what people donated; a period of time on the run from the authorities after their leader was executed, and ultimately horrific deaths.

This couldn't have been an easy decision to make. There weren't a lot of items in the plus column. But they did it anyway.

Could we?

In thinking about this once, I thought about Simon Peter's wife. What would she have had to say about all this. And I wrote a story about her called "The Fisherman's Wife."

Note: I had always figured he must have a wife, because he had a mother-in-law - but just the other day I was reading something about Plymouth Colony and learned that "father-in-law" was sometimes said when what we would refer to as "step-father" was meant. Perhaps that was true in Simon Peter's case as well - since no wife is ever mentioned.

What is Love?

We get the answer to that from today's second reading (1 Cor 13:4-8)

Love is patient, love is kind.
It is not jealous, it is not pompous,
It is not inflated, it is not rude,
it does not seek its own interests,
it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury,
it does not rejoice over wrongdoing
but rejoices with the truth.
It bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never fails.

So, do I love the way I should? I can simply insert "I am" for "Love is" and see if the statements are true.

I am not always patient, I am not always kind.
I am often quick-tempered, and sometimes I brood over injury.

I am not a perfect example of love.

But, God doesn't expect me to be.

God gave us Jesus as the perfect example of love. Insert "Jesus is" for "Love is" and you will see that every statement remains true.

What God wants from us is not perfection (who truly expects their child to be perfect?), but to strive for perfection.

So, I will try to be more patient, more kind, less quick-tempered.

I will try to love more.