No Turning Back

And to another [Jesus] said, “Follow me.” But he replied . . . “I will follow you, Lord, but first let me say farewell to my family at home.” To him Jesus said, “No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:59-62).


In the years – decades, actually – I’ve been a Christian, I’ve often pondered what it really means to follow Jesus.

I’ve learned through those years that no one can follow Christ without God’s grace to enable a person to even desire to follow. That’s why Jesus said, “No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him” (John 6:44).

But I’ve also learned through those years that once drawn, following Christ means actively growing in our obedience to His commandments. After all, can I honestly say I follow Christ if I don’t steadily work at doing as He did and speaking as He spoke?

Following Jesus means living as separated to God as possible within the limitations of my sinful nature. Following Him means developing a habit and pattern of prayer, Scripture study and service to others.

But this past weekend our parochial vicar preached a homily that, I think, gets to the root of the question about following Jesus. That root centers around a heart-change brought about by a personal – and ongoing – decision to commit oneself to the journey of following Christ.

Our vicar said it this way: How can I follow? How must I follow? Before you know how or why, decide today to do it and not look back.

The uncommitted heart can know nothing.

The committed heart will find every door opened, every secret revealed, every grace supplied. For it is only by following the King of Kings and Lord of Lords with an undivided heart that you will find true and lasting peace in this life, and bliss beyond compare in the life to come.

Our priest’s words resonated with me, and remind me -- even as I write this – of Elijah’s challenge to the people on Mount Carmel: “How long will you hesitate between two opinions? If the Lord is God, follow Him; but if Baal, follow him” (1 Kings 18:21). The vicar’s words also remind me of a worship chorus I've sung for many years: I have decided to follow Jesus. No turning back. No turning back. Though none go with me, still I will follow. No turning back. No turning back.

Lists of how-tos and how-nots are good and necessary things to help people learn how to follow Christ. But without an underpinning, an undergirding . . . a foundation built upon a decision and growing commitment to follow Him, all our lists will eventually fade into lifeless routine.

Oh, Lord, grant us grace to fully commit to follow you.

Act Accordingly

So teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts to wisdom (Psalm 90:12).

I received an email yesterday from our youngest son, Nathan. He’s 26.

---------
“Today is the most important day of your life,” he wrote. “That sounds right. It sounds conventional and wise. It sounds like something I've been told hundreds of times . . . .”

“Consider the following scenario: Suppose that through some act of science or sorcery you had perfect foreknowledge that the day you would die is precisely 100 days from today. Knowing that, it is likely you would compile a list of things to accomplish, sort them by priority and then proceed diligently. As you progressed through each passing day a sense of urgency would no doubt arise – now only 90 days left – now only 80. 70. 10. 9. 8. Each passing day becoming more and more pivotal, each hour cherished with a deeper and greater jealousy until at last you came to the climactic final day. Could you find words to describe the value that day would have or what you would give for one more?”

“The truth is, while we may not know the number of our days, it is inexorable that our days are numbered. Tomorrow will be one less day than today . . . . [So,] act accordingly.”

--------

As I read what I consider profound wisdom for someone so young – (I know people in their 70s who still haven't gotten it right) – as I read his email, Psalm 90:12 (above) dropped into my mind. And then my thoughts took me to another text of Scripture. This one in the New Testament. About the barn builder. You might remember the parable about him in St. Luke 12:16-21:

"The land of a rich man was very productive. And he began reasoning to himself, saying, 'What shall I do, since I have no place to store my crops?' Then he said, '. . . I will tear down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, "Soul, you have many goods laid up for many years to come; take your ease, eat, drink and be merry."' But God said to him, 'You fool! This very night your soul is required of you; and now who will own what you have prepared?'”

Jesus then closed the parable with this warning: “So is the man who stores up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God."

I suppose the Lord could just as easily have added: So, act accordingly.

What Was He Thinking?

“Solomon also made a palace . . . for Pharaoh's daughter, whom he had married” (1 Kings 7:8).


So, I’m reading again in 1 Kings and came across this verse. And I wondered what was Solomon thinking? God graced him with magnificent wealth, unsurpassed wisdom and extensive political power.

So why didn’t he get it right about obedience?

It’s not like Solomon didn’t know better about taking foreign wives. He did. All Israelites knew what Moses taught about marrying outside the faith (e.g. Exodus 34:12-16).

Did Solomon ignore God’s law so he could form political alliances with surrounding nations? Or did he turn aside from God’s rule for a pretty face? Whatever the reason, he made a very wrong choice and compromised his obedience.

Of course, Solomon was no different than we are. Who hasn’t turned left or right when he or she should have walked straight? Who hasn’t rationalized disobedience to God to form social, political or work-related alliances?

Kings or servants, managers or laborers -- if we really believe the cost of compromise was more than we would want to pay, no one would disobey Him. In Solomon’s case, disobedience led to the kingdom’s division and tragedy in his home.

God has not changed. If you and I divert from His path, we can expect to pay for our compromises.

But, now that I think about it, what Christian would want it any other way?

I Think I Know

. . . the things which the Gentiles sacrifice, they sacrifice to demons and not to God; and I do not want you to become sharers in demons. You cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons; you cannot partake of the table of the Lord and the table of demons (1 Corinthians 10:20-21).

And any man from the house of Israel, or from the aliens who sojourn among them, who eats any blood, I will set My face against that person who eats blood and will cut him off from among his people. For the life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it to you on the altar to make atonement for your souls; for it is the blood by reason of the life that makes atonement (Leviticus 17:10-11).

So Jesus said to them, "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in yourselves. He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For My flesh is true food, and My blood is true drink. He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood abides in Me, and I in him (John 6:53-56).

I think I know

Why St. Paul told Christians at Corinth,

“Don’t participate in pagan communion.”

For somehow,
in some mysterious,

mystical way

their communion

joined them

with demons.

I think I know

why Moses warned Israel,

“Don’t drink sacrificial blood.”

For somehow,
in some mysterious,

mystical way

the life of the flesh

is in the blood,

and God did not want

His people

joined with animals.

I think I know

why Jesus commands us,

“Eat My flesh,

drink My blood.”

For somehow,
in some mysterious,

mystical way

Holy Communion joins the Christian

with Christ’s divinity.
It joins us with Christ’s

eternal life.

Elijah -- and Me

Now Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword. Then Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah, saying, "So may the gods do to me and even more, if I do not make your life as the life of one of them by tomorrow about this time." And [Elijah] was afraid and arose and ran for his life . . . and he requested for himself that he might die, and said, "It is enough; now, O Lord, take my life . . . (1 Kings 19:1-4).

There is not a time that I read this vignette when I don’t wonder what got into Elijah. After all, the guy had just witnessed a stunning display of God’s power in the previous chapter.

Why did Elijah, after watching fire fall from the sky to lap up the water, stones and offering – why didn’t Jezebel’s threat elicit little more than a disdainful smirk from the prophet? I’d have thought he would have mocked the queen and said something like, “You know my address. Come and take your best shot.”

But that’s not how it happened. Instead, Elijah ran for his life.

I suppose we shouldn’t be too hard on Elijah. While it’s true most of us haven’t seen fire fall from heaven, many of us have seen the unmistakable hand of God in our lives and yet, when the next storm threatens, we cry out, “Lord, I’m the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too" (see 1 Kings 19:10).

I do that all the time.

I’m glad this story of Elijah’s dismal failure is recorded in Scripture. Without it, I’d think he was super-human, and I would give up trying to attain the relationship with God that he had.

St. James tells us in the New Testament, “Elijah was a man with a nature just like ours” (James 5:17), and these chapters in 1 Kings illustrate for us just how human Elijah really was. Perhaps more important, they illustrate just how accessible God really is.

“God knows our frame,” the Psalmist reminds us. “He is mindful that we are dust” (Psalm 103:14). That promise in the Psalms, and the compassion of God toward Elijah in 1 Kings, are beacons in our fear – beacons to assure us God watches over us, protects us, draws us near, even when we forget He is there, and the power He exercises on our behalf.

Some Sure-Fire Ways to Get Little (or Nothing) From Mass

I was glad when they said to me, "Let us go to the house of the LORD" (Psalm 122:1).

Most anyone who sits under the preaching of God's word will tell you the gospel message can make people uncomfortable. The reason is quite simple. God often requires us to change, and let's face it, living within the status quo is easier.

But what can a person do who, for reasons such as family tradition or social pressures, regularly attends Mass, but doesn't want to change? This is not simply an academic question. Ask someone in this unenviable position and you'll hear a sad story of warfare between the conscience and self-centered rebellion.

I have good news for those waging this battle. Just because you sit in church doesn't mean you have to come under conviction! You can attend church and still be insulated from the message. Apply the following suggestions and you'll find yourself adequately protected from the gentle (and not so gentle) urging of the Holy Spirit.

1. Go to bed late Saturday evening -- the later the better. And get out of bed early the next morning. Getting only a few hours sleep will guarantee fatigue during the Liturgy. And there's nothing like a fuzzy head to run interference for you when the homily gets too personal.

2. Time your arrival at the church to minutes before Mass begins. And be ready to leave as soon as the Liturgy of the Eucharist is over. Spending as little time as possible in God’s presence will greatly enhance your ability to avoid hearing from Him.

3. Find a seat as close to the back of the sanctuary as you can. It's much easier to play the role of spectator than participant in the back corner.

4. Don't open the Missal during the readings. And find fault with the way the readers pronounce certain words, or their accent, or their inflection. If you leave the missal closed, and you spend your time silently criticizing the readers, you won’t be able to pay attention to God’s word. If you don't pay attention, it's easier to avoid the Holy Spirit's whisper in your ear.

5. Don't participate in congregational prayer, recitation of the Creed, or song. Those three forms of worship have a nasty way of softening one's heart to the Holy Spirit. You may have to go through the motions of participating in order to avoid being rude, but you will discover the mind can be a wonderful ally. While faking your participation, you can plan the week's menu or your wardrobe for the coming work week. Be careful not to sing or recite too loudly because the mind might become momentarily confused and you may suddenly hear yourself singing about pizza. That would be embarrassing.

6. During the homily, take mental note of your surroundings. For example: What is the ratio of men to women in the service? How many guys are wearing suits? How many women are wearing dresses? Compare the ratio of those wearing glasses to those who do not. Think of the statistical data you can develop from these observations.

7. When you run out of things to note about the congregation, turn your attention to the matters awaiting you at home. When does that TV show start? Did you program the DVD to begin at the right time and on the correct channel? Shall you eat the left-over spaghetti for lunch, or just have sandwiches?

8. Bring a small notebook to Mass and jot down a grocery list or some other "to-do" items during the homily. This will help keep your mind off the message. Don't worry about what others might think if they notice you scribbling away. They will assume you're taking notes on what the pastor is saying.

Unfortunately, because of God's great love for you, even meticulous observation of these suggestions does not guarantee successful flight from Him. Despite the best intentions, you may succumb to His love.

Of course, worse things can happen.

Here I Am. Send Me.

They did not require an accounting from those to whom they gave the money . . . because they acted with complete honesty (2 Kings 12:15).

I don’t know how many times I’ve read right past this verse as it if were merely part of the landscape. But this time in my journey through 2 Kings the significance of this extraordinary testimony captured my attention.

"Because they acted with complete honesty" pulsates with hope in the midst of chapters 9 through 14 that describe deception, decadence, immorality and desolation. That phrase offers light in a quagmire of darkness, harmony in the midst of discordant cacophony. Apparently, there was still a remnant of God’s people who chose to maintain their integrity and obey God at all costs, even while so many in their culture had turned to follow their own way.

Flash forward to today. What has changed? Deception, dishonesty and immorality stain the fabric of our society. Government, the media, entertainment . . . we can’t scan the news and not find a plethora of voices in our culture who insist that what was once considered darkness is really light, and what was once considered light is really darkness. Even within the church, dishonesty, hypocrisy, sexual perversions and intrigue hit the front pages with all-too frequent regularity. It is no wonder that so many ask why they should walk straight while multitudes zigzag. And it is fair to ask where is the one who lives to serve God in Spirit and truth?

Where, indeed.

The longer I serve Christ the more convinced I become that at the Great Judgment God will not ask me how well my society, or even my Church community lived. He will instead ask how I lived. Did I decide to follow Jesus? Though none went with me, did I still follow Him, wherever He led and whatever it cost? God has always looked for a chaste remnant in the midst of perversion and disobedience. He has always sought those who yearn to be lights in the lengthening shadows, men and women who stand with truth in opposition to those who stand with falsehood.

He has always looked for those who will respond daily to His call and say: “Here I am. Send me.”

Oh, Lord. Help us follow you, despite the cost.

Contemplating the Mystery of Christ Through Art

Usually the things I post here have to do with my own contemplations of Christ. Today, however, I want to share with you the contemplations of another.

As Nancy (my wife of 35 years) contemplates the mysteries and majesty of Jesus, her thoughts move in the direction of color, nuance and pattern. Log onto the link I provided and take a quiet, unhurried look at her expressions of faith: http://tinyurl.com/2a5tyqf

Here is a copy of the Press Release:
Artist NANCY MAFFEO of GIG HARBOR, WASHINGTON has received two Special Recognition Merit Awards for artwork in the "12th Annual Collage, Digital & Mixed Media Juried Online International Art Exhibition" hosted by Upstream People Gallery.

This international exhibition received approximately 200 entries from around the world and 40 artists were selected by the juror Laurence Bradshaw, Professor of Art at the University of Nebraska at Omaha, U. S. A. Professor Bradshaw states this about this specially recognized work:

"'NANCY MAFFEO of GIG HARBOR, WASHINGTON presents works of faith in her works as seen in the assemblage “Jesus I Trust In You” with text helping to discern the message. And in her piece “The Eternal Wound” she shows a kind of monstrance with the host indicating that it is truly the Body and Blood of the Lord."'

The exhibition will be featured online at http://www.upstreampeoplegallery.com/ and continue for 12 months, closing May 31, 2011.

The artist has provided a commentary about this specially awarded work:

“The Eternal Wound” came out of a need to express concepts and issues I had been exploring for several years: the eternal glory of Christ, and His body broken for us all. Initially, I was only interested in creating a raised place on the canvas and using that area as a starting place for a torso. The more I worked on the flesh tones, the more I wanted to isolate the image of an open wound. I had a circular frame which was a perfect fit. Its shape and decorative curves complimented the edges of the sculpted paint on the canvas. I liked the idea of a framed image. It was a natural outflow of my exploration of “frame” as a relief platform for assemblage, or as layers that are in themselves part of the over-all image. I added gold trim to the frame much in the same manner as a halo or monstrance. The result was gratifying and consistent with my desire to offer images that provoke and allow a starting place for reflective thought.

“Jesus I Trust In You” began as an exploration of the traditional image of the Divine Mercy painting. I narrowed my focus to the area of the heart. Then I coupled that image with one of the Sacred Heart, which I had been exploring for several months. The words, as a collage element, were a staring point for me. I was also exploring draping material and how I might make use of shear material over an entire surface. I worked on this piece for several weeks, but in the end decided it was a failed attempt. But I do not ever toss anything. A year later, I began using thick acrylic paint and gel embedded with various materials. I discovered a particular piece that was a perfect shape and color to compliment my “failed attempt” of a draped heart. That addition, and an infusion of a mixed red glaze seeping through the material, finally created the perfect contrast for the words, “Jesus I Trust In You.” I have found this piece personally satisfying and reflective."'

Further information about the work can be found by clicking on the virus-free links below:
http://www.upstreampeoplegallery.com/gallery/view.asp?RN=16696&XD=6/1/2010&AN=Lazorko%2C+Anthony&PREV=16606&NEXT=

He Delights In Us

[Jesus said to his disciples]: I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now. But when He comes, the Spirit of truth, He will guide you to all truth (John 16:12-13a).

[The Holy Spirit says of Himself] . . . then was I beside Him as his craftsman, and I was His delight day by day, playing before Him all the while, playing on the surface of His earth; and I found delight in the human race (Proverbs 8:30-31).

[Brothers and sisters]: Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ . . . because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us (Romans 5:1-5).


This past Sunday’s Scripture readings have played in my mind since I heard them during the Mass. The more they played, the more I contemplated their interconnectedness. And the more I contemplated their connectedness, the more relaxed my spirit grew.

Jesus tells us through the reading in John that the Holy Spirit guides us into all truth. That was not new information to me. I’ve known the Holy Spirit’s guidance through Scripture for nearly forty years. But I wondered what He was trying to teach me – if anything – through these particular readings.

And then I realized what it was.

God delights in us. More to the point, the Holy Spirit reminded me through the Proverbs text that while God delights in us, He also takes delight in me.

He considers me of great value. Even while I was shaking my fist in His face during my younger years, God loved me nonetheless. He loved me so much that He gave His Son to die for me (Romans 5:8).

And for you, too.

And because He takes delight in us, St. Paul could write the words of our second reading: All who have placed their faith in Christ stand before God justified (from a Greek word meaning “to be declared without guilt”).

Think of it for a moment. Those who approach God in humble faith through the sacrifice of Christ are justified – declared by God to be without guilt.

God’s not mad at us. He’s not looking to get even with us. To whip us into conformity. To teach us who’s boss. To throw us into hell.

The Holy Spirit took the time this weekend to remind me through these texts that He really, really delights in me. He loves me. Without condition. Without permutation. He delights in me. He loves me – even as much as He loves Jesus (John 17:23).

And He feels the same way about you, too.

Oh, if only I – if only we – can mature in our faith to the point where that promise takes root – and blossoms – we will finally experience the confidence of heart that the Word of God offers us.

Oh, Holy Spirit. Please make it so.

Mutually Exclusive Choices

Then his disciples approached and said to Him, "Do you know that the Pharisees took offense when they heard what you said?" (Matthew 15:10).

As I read this text, a memory resurfaced of a Bible class I taught a few months ago. During the discussion the subject of abortion came up and so we talked about the Catholic Church’s teaching on abortion, how it is viewed as a grave mortal sin. A short time later someone asked about Islam, and I shared a passage from Isaiah 19:18-25 which prophesies about the eventual salvation of Egypt, Israel and Assyria (modern day Iran).

The class ended about an hour later and many of the participants thanked me for teaching the class.

A few weeks later I received a call from the person who assigned the class to me. She reprimanded me for discussing what she said were “divisive” subjects about abortion and Islam. Although I explained I was simply teaching the Church’s position on abortion, and what Scripture teaches about the salvation of Egyptians, Jews and Iranians, she ordered me to refrain from talking in future classroom assignments about those particular “offensive” topics.

I hung up the phone feeling a mixture of anger, confusion and disappointment over what I considered -- and still consider -- such inexplicable leadership compromise.

And so my thoughts returned to the disciples in this text from Matthew: "Lord, do you not know that you offended the religious leaders by what you said?" And I imagined Jesus' response in modern paraphrase sounded something like this: “Ummm. And your point is?”

Before that phone conversation, I liked to believe Church leadership was more concerned about speaking truth than making people feel comfortable. After all, when has it ever been the Church's position to compromise or avoid telling the truth for fear of offending others? Was it not the Lord Jesus Himself who said He did not come to bring peace, but a sword, to set even family members against each other (Matthew 10:35-36)? Was it not St. Paul who said if he were more concerned about pleasing people than God, he could not call himself a bond-servant of Christ (Galatians 1:9-11)?

Bond-servants of Christ or People Pleasers. Proclaimers of truth, or compromisers. One or the other, but not both.

They each are mutually exclusive choices.

I wish I could say this kind of compromise and capitulation is limited only to a few. But it is not. In my nearly 40 years of worshiping in a variety of Protestant, Evangelical and now Catholic churches, I’ve seen, and continue to see across the Body of Christ, the same kind of political correctness infect congregations and leadership alike. It is stunning to see it over and over -- and equally as incomprehensible, especially in light of Jesus' uncompromising mandate to teach the whole world to obey His word (Matthew 28:20).

No wonder our nation is in a moral mess with so many Christians silent – silent – in the face of evil and sin. As King David said long ago: The wicked strut about on every side when vileness is exalted among the sons of men (Psalm 12:8).

And yet, despite it all, there is reason for hope. 2 Chronicles 7:14 holds this promise: If My people (i.e., the Church), who are called by my name, humble themselves, and pray, and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and forgive their sins and heal their land.

May God have mercy on us, forgive our moral cowardice and compromise, and give us another chance to make it right . . . another chance to seek Him and no other. Mother Mary, pray for us. St. Paul the Apostle, pray for us. St. Peter, first earthly head of the Church, pray for us.

Giving God First and Best

Now this is the law of the guilt offering: it is most holy” (Leviticus 7:1).

In my journey through Leviticus I relearned an important principle of worship and reverence -- one which I still too often forget. For example, in the seventh chapter we read of God's specific requirements for Israel’s offerings: They should be without defect, be the best the person had to offer, and should be the first fruits – not the second fruits – but the first and finest of the flock and harvest. And finally, the offerings were to be set apart specially and specifically for God.

And so I got to contemplating, if God commanded His people to set apart animals and plants as holy, how much more should Jesus Christ -- the Lamb of God -- be treated by God’s children as holy?

Scripture often refers to Christians as God’s children and Christ's friends. But perhaps because of the comfortable images those words generate, some of us might be tempted to blur the distinction between sacred and ordinary. God is “the man upstairs” instead of “our Father in heaven.” Jesus’ name becomes a marketing tool instead of a road map to salvation. Mass attendance becomes an opportunity to keep on God’s “good side” than to worship Him.

The Old Testament laws related to sacrifices and offerings illustrate God’s impeccable sacredness and holiness. And, of course, God has not changed. Angels still cover their eyes in His presence, and how much more should we who are reconciled to God by Christ’s blood, speak His name reverently, treat each other preferentially, and live our lives in as holy, blameless and as sacred a way as possible?

On Holy Ground

“God called out to [Moses] from the bush, "Moses! Moses! . . . Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place where you stand is holy ground” (Exodus 3:4, 5).

From a distance, mountains stand majestically against the horizon. Walk on those same mountains and they appear unremarkable – layered with rocks, shrubs, trees, grasses and wild flowers.

From a distance, I'm sure the mountain mentioned here in Exodus appeared majestic. Up close, as Moses shepherded his sheep, I'm equally sure the mountainside appeared as unremarkable as any other.

But then God entered the unremarkable -- and His presence transformed it into a holy place. And Moses "hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God” (Exodus 3:6).

Fear is a good starting place when it comes to being in God’s presence.

Fear.

And reverence.

All Christians have the privilege to meet God in prayer and through the Scriptures. However, Catholic Christians recognize we also meet God physically, as Moses did – not in a burning bush, but in the consecrated bread and cup. “The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ?” St. Paul reminded the Corinthians. “The bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ?” (1 Corinthians 10:16).

When we approach Christ in the bread, it is appropriate to bow in reverence before Him. And when we approach, or pass by Christ in the cup, He is no less present.

And we are still on holy ground.

Come and See

Philip found Nathanael and said to him, "We have found Him of whom Moses in the Law and also the Prophets wrote--Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph." Nathanael said to him, "Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?" Philip said to him, "Come and see" (John 1:45-46).


Little has changed in twenty centuries,

and still we ask,

“Can anything good come from Nazareth?”

And still the answer is,
“Come and see.”

Can Jesus renew my dreams,

forgive my past,

and restore my future?
“Come and see.”

Can the One from Nazareth bring joy to my despair?
“Come and see.”

Can He deliver from addiction?
“Come and see.”

Can He heal my home? My marriage?
“Come and see.”

Can He remove my anger?
Bitterness?
Shame?
“Come and see.”

Can He -- will He --

make me new,

wipe clean my slate,

wrap me in His arms

and whisper,

I love you with an everlasting love?
"Come and see."

For every doubt or fear,
chain of sin, or
sickness,
for every loneliness,
or guilt –
the final answer
has always been,
“Come and see . . .

Yes, come and see
what the Lord will do.”


“Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light"
– Jesus (Matthew 11:28-30)

My Response

It is I who have chosen the Levites from the Israelites in place of every first-born that opens the womb among the Israelites. The Levites, therefore, are mine . . . (Numbers 3:12).


Of Israel’s twelve tribes,
why did God choose the Levites as priests?

We don’t know.


Of all the Levite families,
why did God choose Aaron as high priest?

We don’t know.


And --
I suppose --
more to the point –

It’s none of our business.


Oh! That makes me bristle.
Not my business.


Bristle, until I remember God’s message through Isaiah:
Shall the pot say to the potter, Why? *

Or Christ’s words to Peter:
What is that to you? **

Or Paul’s to the Romans:
Who are you to answer back to God? ***

My response to God’s choice
to use another
instead of me,

to promote another
instead of me

to call another
instead of me

ought simply be,
Lord,
I am Thy servant.


* Isaiah 45:9
** St. John 21:22
*** Romans 9:20

If Only They Had Done it Differently

Now the sons of Eli were wicked; they had respect neither for the Lord, nor for the priests' duties toward the people . . . . When Eli was very old, he heard repeatedly how his sons were treating all Israel (and that they were having relations with the women serving at the entry of the meeting tent) . . . So he said to them: ". . . it is not a good report that I hear the people of the Lord spreading about you (1 Samuel 2:12-22).

Eli’s sons, priests themselves, scandalized the Jewish congregation with their sins. And Eli did little to stop them. So God took the discipline into His own hands, and in a very short time, Eli and his sons were dead.

As I once again read this story I wondered why the great prophet Samuel, who’d been raised in Eli’s home and witnessed the scandals – as well as God’s judgment – did not discipline his own sons when they, too, “turned aside after dishonest gain and took bribes and perverted justice” (1 Samuel 8:3).

And so, I suppose it should be no surprise that the Jewish people, scandalized by their religious leaders, sought something new. No longer satisfied with a theocracy, they clamored for a monarchy. No longer wanting – perhaps no longer trusting – their priests or prophets to lead them, they demanded instead a political leader to guide them (1 Samuel 8:6).

I wonder what Israel’s history would have looked like if Eli – and later, Samuel – had disciplined their sons when they persisted in their sins, if they had removed them from their positions of title and office. Would the congregation have sought others to lead them? Would Israel’s history been less pock-marked by loss of faith? Would the nation have suffered the devastating division that struck them within only two generations?

If only the religious leaders had done it differently.

A Cloud and a Fire, Then and Now

It was always so: during the day the Dwelling was covered by the cloud, which at night had the appearance of fire. Whenever the cloud rose from the tent, the Israelites would break camp; wherever the cloud came to rest, they would pitch camp. At the bidding of the LORD the Israelites moved on, and at his bidding they encamped . . . (Numbers 9:16-18).


Israel didn’t know how easy they had it.

God told them
when to go,
and stay,
and for how long.

I often look to God
for guidance.

Some sign
to stay
or go –
to leave
or linger.

But at times
all I sense
is silence.

So I seek counsel of others,
pray,
make my best guess –
and envy Israel’s
cloud
and
fire.

Yet looking back
through the lens of time
I do see His guidance
in a song,
a scripture,
a thought,
a circumstance . . .

Each a cloud
or fire.
Each a sign to
go or linger.

I simply didn't
and still don't
recognize it
at the time.

Mincing Words?

In those days John the Baptist appeared, preaching in the desert of Judea (and) saying, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!" It was of him that the prophet Isaiah had spoken when he said: "A voice of one crying out in the desert, 'Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths.'" . . . At that time Jerusalem, all Judea, and the whole region around the Jordan were going out to him and were being baptized by him in the Jordan River as they acknowledged their sins. When he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming to his baptism, he said to them, "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce good fruit as evidence of your repentance. (Matthew 3:1-7)


John the Baptist strikes me as a no-nonsense kind of a guy, not one to mince words, and certainly not one to retreat from speaking truth, even to powerful religious leaders and politicians. But what further interests me in this account of the Lord’s baptism is Jesus’ silence about John’s rhetoric. Nowhere in the gospel accounts of Jesus’ baptism does the Lord tell John to tone down his rhetoric.

When John called the religious leaders a “brood of vipers” Jesus didn’t suggest John be more tolerant. More pluralistic. Less divisive. Yet, Jesus was quick to rebuke His disciples many times when they said or did something wrong. For example, He rebuffed them when they tried to stop parents from bringing their children to Him (Mark 10:13-15); and when they wanted to call fire from heaven to consume the Samaritans (Luke 9:53-55); and when Peter chastened the Lord because of Jesus’ comment of His impending death (Matthew 16:21-23).

But with John the Baptist, we have no record of such a rebuke by the Lord. Not even when John warned Herod against adultery do we find Jesus warning him to moderate his words.

We haven’t any record because Jesus obviously approved of John’s faithful proclamation of truth – even though He knew the Baptist would soon be imprisoned for his truth-telling, and would lose his life because of it.

As I mused over this Jordan scene, my mind switched to recent news events surrounding the upcoming May 2010 National Day of Prayer. A well-known Christian, son of another well-known Christian, has been like a voice crying in America’s growing spiritual and moral wilderness. And it seems some people objected to Franklin Graham’s rhetoric -- and had him removed from the list of invited speakers to pray at the Pentagon.

Thankfully, Graham is not the only one calling America to make straight paths for the Lord. Others like Chuck Colson, Archbishop Chaput of Colorado, Fr. John Corapi, Fr. Frank Pavone, James Dobson – and hundreds of thousands of lesser-known men and women who, without fanfare or notoriety -- in their workplaces, schools, neighborhoods -- faithfully proclaim their Christian faith every day, refusing to mince words when speaking of sin or evil. They are Christians who stand boldly for Christ and His Church’s moral imperatives, even if doing so labels them intolerant and divisive and offends social activists, politicians, government officials, or other religions.

We can thank God every day for gracing America with such resolute and passionate modern-day obedient servants of Jesus Christ.

Jesus spoke well of John the Baptist, whose life illustrated a person whose heart stayed fixed on serving God (Matthew 11:11). Surely, too, the Lord speaks well of every Christian who is daily fixed on the gospel of holiness and fearlessly proclaims Christ as humanity’s only means of salvation (see Romans 1:16).

Jesus did not mince words when He warned, "For whoever is ashamed of Me and My words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will also be ashamed of him when He comes in the glory of His Father with the holy angels" (Mark 8:38). And it would not surprise me if, while recognizing the imperative of obedience to Christ – when it would be easier to capitulate to fear or compromise – Pope Pius XI wrote this prayer:

O most benign Jesus . . . [grant] by that great gift of final perseverance, to keep us most faithful until death in our duty and in Thy service, so that at length we may all come to that fatherland, where Thou with the Father and the Holy Ghost live and reign with God for ever and ever. Amen.

How Much More Ought We?

Only after Aaron and his sons have finished covering the sacred objects and all their utensils on breaking camp, shall the Kohathites enter to carry them. But they shall not touch the sacred objects; if they do they will die . . . [T]he Kohathites shall not go in to look upon the sacred objects, even for an instant; if they do, they will die (Numbers 4:15-20).


Only the priestly family of Aaron
could look at –
or touch –
the sacred vessels
and furniture
of the Tabernacle.


The priestly family of Kohath
carried other holy objects,
but would die
if they so much as
touched –
or even glimpsed –
those sacred things
reserved only to Aaron's house.


If Tabernacle articles
were holy,
how much more is the One
who tabernacles *
among us?

If only Aaron's house
was privileged
to see and wrap
the holy objects,
much more are we
privileged
who not only gaze at the Holy One
and touch Him --

but are invited to also
eat His flesh
and drink His blood.

If Priests consecrated themselves
to serve in the Tabernacle,
how much more ought we,
who consume Christ’s Body and Blood,
consecrate ourselves

before we approach
His table?


* St. John 1:14 (Greek)

His Banner Still Covers

The Lord said to Moses: "Speak to Aaron and his sons and tell them:

This is how you shall bless the Israelites. Say to them:

The Lord bless you and keep you!

The Lord let his face shine upon you, and be gracious to you!

The Lord look upon you kindly and give you peace!

So shall they invoke my name upon the Israelites,

and I will bless them.”

(Numbers 6:22-27)


It must have seemed obscene
to people wandering the desert
for 40 years
to think God blessed them,
kept them,
and let His face

shine on them.

But He had.

Despite their grumbling,
whining,
and pining

after Egypt,

God was gracious to them,
looked kindly on them
and gave them –

at least,

those who accepted it –

His peace.

And so with us,
regardless of our desert
or the reason we wander there,
God has not forgotten

or forsaken us.

Trust Him.
His banner over you is love.

Who Are You?

On the contrary, who are you, O man, who answers back to God? (Romans 9:20)


Last night I dreamed a dream so real it startled me awake. I couldn’t go back to sleep.

I saw myself waiting at a traffic light on a street I didn’t recognize. Through the open window I heard strangers on the corner call to each other: “Roger is dead.”

Somehow I knew who they were talking about, and the news stunned me. I couldn’t believe it.

I wouldn’t believe it.

I pushed the gas pedal and raced toward the funeral home. In moments I burst into the viewing room and stood by my friend's open casket.

He was lying on his left side, curled almost in a fetal position. And the blood. It was everywhere. On his chest. At the bottom of the casket. It covered his abdomen. His hands. His clothing.

I fell across him and wept – a deep, visceral sobbing.

I rarely have dreams in which I weep.

“Roger!” I shouted. “What are you doing here? What happened?”

My groans knew no balm as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pressed him to myself.

Then, in the corner of my eye I saw a man beside me. Late thirties. Five-ten, or so. Clean-shaved. Light colored short-sleeved shirt. Dark, thick hair.

I knew it was Jesus.

I stood and turned to Him, “You can’t let him die!”

It was not a request. It was an order.

“You just can’t.”

I didn’t try to choke down my grief.

“You can’t.”

Jesus looked into my eyes. I can still see his gaze hours later as I write this. His expression unmistakable. It said: “Who are you to tell Me what to do?”

And then, as suddenly as His expression rebuked, it softened. And again, without a word His eyes said:

“Trust Me.”

Then I awakened. The image of my friend and the coffin stayed with me. But so, too, did the Lord’s words.

When I realized I had only dreamed it, I prayed a while for Roger. And then I sought to understand if the dream might mean something more. Perhaps a message for me.

After a time, I concluded: In the grip of even the deepest tragedy, or grief, despair, or heartache, Jesus always asks: “Who are you to tell Me what to do?”

And then He says:

“Trust Me.”