Last night, my family had the privilege of attending a beautiful community penance service at the parish just across the bridge from ours. Our own pastor was a "guest" priest for the gathering; and 2 others came to join the "home" priest in West Virginia.
The pastor of the host parish offered a wonderful homily and something he said several times has stuck with me into the next day and has become a meditation for me as I go about my day.
I thought I'd share my thoughts with you here:
In speaking about The Annunciation, Father S. drew our attention to the fact, that even after Mary knew that her visitor was an angel of God...and even after she listened to his message AND his subsequent explanation of how the events being foretold would come to be...
SHE STILL DID NOT UNDERSTAND.
The Virgin Mary, the one, whom from all time was chosen, destined, prepared, and preserved in order to one day find herself greeted by an Angel and asked to be the mother of the Messiah...
DID NOT UNDERSTAND.
Mary was confused. She was "in the dark". She could not comprehend what was happening; much less God's WILL for her life...SHE WAS CLUELESS.
All that she knew was that she, like her people, had long-been awaiting the coming of a Savior.
She knew/believed that there was a God.
She knew/believed that it was His Angel who was speaking to her.
She knew of all that, but beyond it...
SHE DID NOT UNDERSTAND.
In fact, she no more understood what was happening or going to happen any more than WE do today...even after all these years and what we've learned since then!
The beauty of this idea is what came next.
This young girl, even though she was confused...even though she did not understand...and even though she was troubled in her heart...TRUSTED COMPLETELY and SAID "YES" to God.
She did not hesitate. She did not demand further explanation. She did not ask for a sign (though, it could be said, God offered her one in the pregnancy of Elizabeth for in seeing her cousin with-child, Mary then knew that what had happened to her was REAL and was TRUE) and she did not stop to consider the consequences which might befall her...
She simply surrendered all to God and made herself available to Him as His chosen vessel!
We must be like Mary.
How many times do we cry out that "we do not understand"?
We do not understand why children and good people must suffer.
We do not understand why we do "x, y, and z" with our families according to the Teachings of the Church and yet, our lives end up tossed about in turmoil and confusion and it seems that those who have fallen away or have never known God to begin with, are often, (it appears) "better-off".
We do not understand the mysteries of our Faith, nor do we understand the depth or infinite components of God's love and mercy.
We do not understand why we feel so lonely when we are surrounded by people.
We do not understand what He is asking of us half the time...or if our choices/decisions reflect His will/plan.
But, even so...we can be like Mary.
We can go forth, on bended knee, in humility and with complete trust ...
AND SAY, "YES".
We need not ask for explanation...or wait for an audible/clear answer...
It is good enough to know that He is there and that He is GOD...our loving Father in heaven.
SHE DID NOT UNDERSTAND any more than we do.
Let us, like her, make ourselves "handmaids" and invite
"it to be done unto us according to His Word".
Showing posts with label infinite love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label infinite love. Show all posts
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Each One Has a History
I stood in the middle of the Antietam Battlefield today.
This is hallowed ground.
The battles that took place here during the American Civil War were so fierce, so bloody and so devastating that more lives were lost than had been in the War of 1812, The Spanish/American War, and the Revolutionary War combined.
There we stood.
Monuments, as well as original and restored structures all around us.
The movie we had watched in the Visitor's Center told us that during the morning following the battle, all that could be heard in the air throughout the fields and surrounding town were the moans and cries of the men.
How sobering. How very sobering.
My children and I made the Sign of the Cross as we stood amidst the corn fields where so much blood had been shed. We thanked God for our freedom. We prayed for the souls of those who gave their lives and those who had to go on living without them. We offered the Lord's prayer and we sang "My Country 'Tis of Thee".
As we made our way along the roads and trails, we came to the National Antietam Cemetery.
Thousands laid to rest...many with "unkown" markers.
We lingered when we came to the rows and rows of Pennsylvania fallen.
My daughter, 16, kept slowly turning 'round in circles looking out over the vast expanse of plots, saying, "This is amazing. Every single one of these people has a history and yet, we'll never know what it is...even those in the unknown graves have histories".
What a thought.
I pondered this for a while.
I wondered about the wives, the daughters, the sons, the grand-parents, the employers, the brothers and sisters and neighbors and pastors...who had to "hear the word" that their loved one or friend had died in battle.
We do not know who they are nor what their lives were like afterward.
As I considered the events that led up to "this place", "this place of REST" and tried to formulate a "history" of each in my own mind...a thought came to me that was so comforting, so pleasing, and so real...
GOD knows their histories...every single one of them...He even knows the full name of each unknown soldier!
He knows how they died, where they died, why they died.
He was with them the day they were born and with them the day they fell.
HE IS WITH THEM NOW.
Not a single moment in their lives was in vain or remains unknown for GOD knows all...truer still...
GOD knows EACH.
On September 17, 1862, America found herself in the midst of the bloodiest single battle in her history:
23,000 killed, wounded, or missing.
God created every single one of those 23,000 and though we would not recognize many of their faces were they standing next to us today...HE would...for He was their Father as He is our own.
And so, as I turned to leave the cemetery and looked back over my shoulder one last time...I smiled...for there is really no such thing as "an unknown soldier", is there?
This is hallowed ground.
The battles that took place here during the American Civil War were so fierce, so bloody and so devastating that more lives were lost than had been in the War of 1812, The Spanish/American War, and the Revolutionary War combined.
There we stood.
Monuments, as well as original and restored structures all around us.
The movie we had watched in the Visitor's Center told us that during the morning following the battle, all that could be heard in the air throughout the fields and surrounding town were the moans and cries of the men.
How sobering. How very sobering.
My children and I made the Sign of the Cross as we stood amidst the corn fields where so much blood had been shed. We thanked God for our freedom. We prayed for the souls of those who gave their lives and those who had to go on living without them. We offered the Lord's prayer and we sang "My Country 'Tis of Thee".
As we made our way along the roads and trails, we came to the National Antietam Cemetery.
Thousands laid to rest...many with "unkown" markers.
We lingered when we came to the rows and rows of Pennsylvania fallen.
My daughter, 16, kept slowly turning 'round in circles looking out over the vast expanse of plots, saying, "This is amazing. Every single one of these people has a history and yet, we'll never know what it is...even those in the unknown graves have histories".
What a thought.
I pondered this for a while.
I wondered about the wives, the daughters, the sons, the grand-parents, the employers, the brothers and sisters and neighbors and pastors...who had to "hear the word" that their loved one or friend had died in battle.
We do not know who they are nor what their lives were like afterward.
As I considered the events that led up to "this place", "this place of REST" and tried to formulate a "history" of each in my own mind...a thought came to me that was so comforting, so pleasing, and so real...
GOD knows their histories...every single one of them...He even knows the full name of each unknown soldier!
He knows how they died, where they died, why they died.
He was with them the day they were born and with them the day they fell.
HE IS WITH THEM NOW.
Not a single moment in their lives was in vain or remains unknown for GOD knows all...truer still...
GOD knows EACH.
On September 17, 1862, America found herself in the midst of the bloodiest single battle in her history:
23,000 killed, wounded, or missing.
God created every single one of those 23,000 and though we would not recognize many of their faces were they standing next to us today...HE would...for He was their Father as He is our own.
And so, as I turned to leave the cemetery and looked back over my shoulder one last time...I smiled...for there is really no such thing as "an unknown soldier", is there?
Monday, July 11, 2011
Temporal Suffering: Punishment or Gift?
As I sat, knelt, and laid by my father's deathbed just two weeks ago, the Lord taught me many things; and showered me in such graces and blessings and mercy that I was left in awe of His kindness and humbled at His generosity.
If you have never experienced it before, it is REALLY difficult to watch someone slowly die. Of course, when that "someone" is a person you love, cherish, rely on, and NEED in your life, it becomes a heart-wrenching challenge to accept and embrace the events that are unfolding before your eyes.
My Dad was a hard-working man. Even in high school, he had to drop out a year to go to work and help his family; returning later to finish school with my mother's graduating class. (That's how God brought them together and went on to bless them with 64 years of marriage!)
During my father's last 3 days, he had long periods of AGONY. At times, I didn't think I could bear a single moment more...it was especially traumatic to see a look of "FEAR" on his fragile, and suffering face. (I would sing hymns to him and comfort him with the Divine Mercy Chaplet...stroking his hair and telling him it was OK to let go and reach out for Christ's welcoming arms).
At one point, I begged God out loud, "Dear Lord...he has done nothing but work and work HARD for You his whole, entire life...does he also have to 'WORK" now to DIE????? PLEASE spare him of this agony".
I can not adequately articulate what next transpired. Thus, I hope you will forgive my rudimentary attempt.
Somehow...(and for those who are accustomed to the quiet way in which God sometimes speaks to our hearts, you might relate)...God spoke to my heart in that instant...in silence...and yet SO clearly and lovingly...and...I think...sternly.
He asked, "Oh Judy...don't you see? Why can't you understand? THIS is his Purgatory; which I am allowing him to serve on EARTH so that He may join me in Heaven today".
All at once, each and every moment that my father moaned, cried out, choked, or gasped for air, became, not a punishment or aimless trial or suffering IN VAIN...but rather...a BEAUTIFUL, MERCIFUL, WONDERFUL GIFT from his own LOVING FATHER in HEAVEN.
"I am SO SORRY, Lord", I cried. "Yes...NOW I see".
And, I realize too, that in some way...WATCHING my Dad in his hour of agony...though it caused ME great suffering...was also a gift...because I was able to offer up each moment of my own pain and grief for the reparation of my sins and for so many intentions. (YOU were all a part of those prayers, as well!)
During the last five years of my father's life...he suffered greatly. Actually, all THROUGH my father's life...he was never a stranger to suffering. But, during those last years, when he was in and out of hospitals almost weekly, at times...he said to me, "I'm hoping that I can take care of all of this suffering so that you kids won't have to".
I believe that God hears and answers prayers like these. I believe that He would, indeed, allow my Dad to "suffer for His children's sake".
I believe He DID allow it.
And, I believe, that because the Lord offered "Purgatory" to my father on earth...he was able to join the Saints in Paradise when he released his final breath on June 27th, 2011.
Suffering the temporal punishments for our sins, and enduring trials and sufferings while we are on earth, is not some form of a curse, dished out by a cruel and thoughtless God.
It is a GIFT. It is a means for Jesus to allow us to take part in the Cup of His Passion, so that united with Him, and made worthy by His merits and grace, we are able to be cleansed, healed, and prepared to enter into His heavenly kingdom when our time comes that He will call us HOME.
If you have never experienced it before, it is REALLY difficult to watch someone slowly die. Of course, when that "someone" is a person you love, cherish, rely on, and NEED in your life, it becomes a heart-wrenching challenge to accept and embrace the events that are unfolding before your eyes.
My Dad was a hard-working man. Even in high school, he had to drop out a year to go to work and help his family; returning later to finish school with my mother's graduating class. (That's how God brought them together and went on to bless them with 64 years of marriage!)
During my father's last 3 days, he had long periods of AGONY. At times, I didn't think I could bear a single moment more...it was especially traumatic to see a look of "FEAR" on his fragile, and suffering face. (I would sing hymns to him and comfort him with the Divine Mercy Chaplet...stroking his hair and telling him it was OK to let go and reach out for Christ's welcoming arms).
At one point, I begged God out loud, "Dear Lord...he has done nothing but work and work HARD for You his whole, entire life...does he also have to 'WORK" now to DIE????? PLEASE spare him of this agony".
I can not adequately articulate what next transpired. Thus, I hope you will forgive my rudimentary attempt.
Somehow...(and for those who are accustomed to the quiet way in which God sometimes speaks to our hearts, you might relate)...God spoke to my heart in that instant...in silence...and yet SO clearly and lovingly...and...I think...sternly.
He asked, "Oh Judy...don't you see? Why can't you understand? THIS is his Purgatory; which I am allowing him to serve on EARTH so that He may join me in Heaven today".
All at once, each and every moment that my father moaned, cried out, choked, or gasped for air, became, not a punishment or aimless trial or suffering IN VAIN...but rather...a BEAUTIFUL, MERCIFUL, WONDERFUL GIFT from his own LOVING FATHER in HEAVEN.
"I am SO SORRY, Lord", I cried. "Yes...NOW I see".
And, I realize too, that in some way...WATCHING my Dad in his hour of agony...though it caused ME great suffering...was also a gift...because I was able to offer up each moment of my own pain and grief for the reparation of my sins and for so many intentions. (YOU were all a part of those prayers, as well!)
During the last five years of my father's life...he suffered greatly. Actually, all THROUGH my father's life...he was never a stranger to suffering. But, during those last years, when he was in and out of hospitals almost weekly, at times...he said to me, "I'm hoping that I can take care of all of this suffering so that you kids won't have to".
I believe that God hears and answers prayers like these. I believe that He would, indeed, allow my Dad to "suffer for His children's sake".
I believe He DID allow it.
And, I believe, that because the Lord offered "Purgatory" to my father on earth...he was able to join the Saints in Paradise when he released his final breath on June 27th, 2011.
Suffering the temporal punishments for our sins, and enduring trials and sufferings while we are on earth, is not some form of a curse, dished out by a cruel and thoughtless God.
It is a GIFT. It is a means for Jesus to allow us to take part in the Cup of His Passion, so that united with Him, and made worthy by His merits and grace, we are able to be cleansed, healed, and prepared to enter into His heavenly kingdom when our time comes that He will call us HOME.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Loving the Sacred Heart of Jesus
On the third Friday after Pentecost, which is July 1 this year, the Church celebrates the feast of the Sacred Heart, a devotion that was propagated in the Church from the 13th to the 16th centuries and came into full bloom in the late 17th century when St. John Eudes honored it with its own Divine Office and Mass propers and feast day. As often happens, what begins in one region, eventually, if it is worthy, spreads throughout the world to the whole Church and so we have this feast in the universal Church today.
To prepare for this feast, I wrote this post to share some new thoughts I've had about living with and loving Jesus.
The Sacred Heart of Jesus, pierced with a lance at the Crucifixion, is a symbol of His great love for us. We have this feast because devotion to the love (heart) of Jesus is a way we love Him back, heart to Heart. It reminds us that Jesus has feelings for every human being ever created without exception, and that those feelings are so strong he burns with the desire that we love Him in return. What lover does not burn with the desire to be loved by his beloved?
One of the beauties of different cultures is how language conveys meaning uniquely. In Korean, if a man is attracted to a woman and wishes to get to know her better (and vice versa), he will say he "likes" her, which means he wants to spend time with her, to interact with her, to find out if he should build a relationship with her.
If a man loves a woman (or vice versa) he says "she is in my heart." That means his feelings are so deep he carries his love with him always, is willing to make sacrifices for her or die for her if necessary because she is the most precious person to him in all the world. He seeks to please and delight her in simple ways because she is always, at some level, on his mind. This is not some infatuation, which the word "like" can account for. It is a permanent state that endures throughout the daily demands of his occupation, an attachment that never wavers, a love that places the loved one at greater value than self. It is both romantic and real. Our western use of "love" is overused and misapplied to such an extent it seems a lame expression for something so profound as "in my heart."
Jesus has us in His heart all day every day. He died for us. We are each of us most precious to Him. Our human hearts can't begin to fathom the love He gives to us because we can't imagine what infinite love is. Yet Jesus understands our creaturely limitations and desires that we "hold Him in our hearts", thinking of Him each day and loving Him in all we do. He may ask us to give our lives for His sake as He did for us and if we truly have Him in our hearts, we will do it with generosity and joy, no matter how horrifying the circumstances.
Grace allows us to grow in love of the Sacred Heart, to carry Him in our hearts. If we make a habit of saying this little prayer often during the day we will begin to return love for Love: "Most Sacred Heart of Jesus I implore that I may love Thee more and more." He will do the rest with the delight of the Beloved.
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