Seeking Truth in a World of Sound Bites

Social media has fostered a world where communication is delivered in sound bites. Debates and discussions often consist of memorized statements, which oftentimes are not even factual. Deep philosophical conversations are a thing of the past. We listen to one another not to learn, but to respond. This reality was all too evident in an experience I recently had.

I heard a knock at my front door. I admit I usually do not answer if it is a solicitor, but when I looked through the glass, I could see a well-poised young woman standing on my porch. My guess is she was in her mid-twenties, smartly dressed and checking her iPad.

The young lady smiled and greeted me when I opened the door. I was impressed—she was polite and professional. I said hello and smiled. She noted she was from Planned Parenthood and was getting the word out about the organization and women’s reproductive rights, including abortion. She asked me if I was familiar with the group.

I smiled and told her I was and asked her if she could tell me a bit about the organization. She began to rattle off the familiar sound bites. I listened for a bit—but then stopped her when she hit the topic of abortion, asking, “Why would a woman need an abortion?” I intentionally placed emphasis on the word, need. She looked at me, a bit puzzled. After a few seconds, she continued with the familiar sound bites on how abortion was for women who were raped or in medical cases.

I smiled and repeated my question. I then asked if she could offer statistics on how many abortions were performed for cases of rape and give examples of medical needs for abortion.

She looked at me, not able to answer my question. After a few seconds of silence, she looked at me and said, “I can tell you are against abortion.”

I politely responded, “That is not why I am asking you the questions. I want to know what you know about Planned Parenthood. You came to my door to talk to me about women’s reproductive health issues and the organization. If you are going door-to-door to talk about Planned Parenthood and its services, your fervor and conviction should lead to you being able to answer my questions.”

She started to fumble with her iPad and turned to leave.

“Don’t leave,” I said. “I genuinely want to know what you know and believe. Since you cannot answer my questions, let me ask another. Do you know who founded Planned Parenthood?”

I received a deer in the headlights look as she shook her head ‘no.’ I continued, “Margaret Sanger was the founder of Planned Parenthood. She wrote on the topic of eugenics. Her writings on selective reproduction majorly influenced the leader of a European nation of her day. Do you know who that was? He was quite an admirer.”

At this point, she looked down, shook her head, and started to walk off the porch.

My final words as she left were, “If you want people to listen to what you have to say, you need to have a depth of knowledge and conviction. By the way, the European leader’s name was Adolf Hitler.”

She paused, looked back at me, and then continued down the sidewalk to the house next door.

A sense of sadness overwhelmed me. I was reminded of the Carmelite nun, St. Edith Stein, whose life was a constant search for Truth. She spoke openly of the role of women in the world, noting, “The nation does not simply need what we have. It needs what we are.” Edith Stein was martyred at Auschwitz for her Jewish roots. Her tenacity in search of indisputable Truth is an example for us today, who often settle for emotionally driven sound bites in lieu of the much deeper reality that is often difficult to accept but necessary for our well-being and happiness.

We need to spend time considering what we are—perhaps even more important as Christians—whose we are. Are we puppets repeating sound bites gleaned from social media fueled by corporate or political greed? Or do we take the deep dive in search of absolute Truth that not only defines us, but guides our steps and trajectory?

In the end, Truth does matter if we are to be a light and hope for others. We are all responsible for living with a conviction that proclaims the Truth, which ultimately leads to God. Our eternity depends on it.

A Matter of Focus

My husband and I went out to breakfast this morning. At the restaurant, there was a couple there with their young son. No more than two, this little one was obviously the apple of his parents’ eyes. He was intrigued by the waiter’s bejeweled face mask. He was curious as to the hustle and bustle at the drink station located by his highchair. His exuberance was a joy to behold. The older gentleman sitting near him happily told the young couple about his own newly born grandchild. The wait staff became more animated every time they passed the table. This little one lifted everyone’s spirits.

When we left the restaurant, there was joy in my heart, and it got me thinking.

Without saying a word—that little one captivated everyone he encountered. His awe and curiosity were enlivening. The love his parents showed for him (and each other) was uplifting. There was a palpable joy in everyone who was there. The world was ordered to happiness, in that moment of time and space, in that restaurant today.

It made me realize that what we focus on directly impacts our attitudes, thoughts, and interactions with each other.

We live in a world that is fixated on chaos, negatives, and hopelessness. Turn on the news, run through social media or pick up a newspaper and you will get hit with this reality. From the Pandemic to racial tensions, from politics to natural disasters, we are fed a continuous line of tragedy, upheaval, violence, and turmoil.

As human beings, however, God has wired us to seek beauty, joy, truth, and happiness. When our environment is in direct conflict with how we are wired, we will experience an inner-disconnect that wreaks havoc, both interiorly and exteriorly.

The little boy in the restaurant made me realize that what we focus on is truly what we see. In his world—everything was new and fresh. There was a bounce in his step and a curiosity that was enlivening. He was filled with joy and the world was his.

You may say—but he’s only two. He doesn’t have bills to pay. He isn’t confronted with the realities and hardships of life. And yes, that is true.

But there is another truth at work here. And it has to do with our choices to notice what we notice.

If I choose to focus on the negative, that is exactly what I will find. I will gravitate toward the chaos. I will seek the imperfections—in others and myself. And when I do, I will be swallowed up by the hopelessness that is consuming us individually and as a nation.

If, however, I choose to focus on the good and the beautiful, I will be drawn to it. I will see the little child. I will be lifted in spirit—just as I was by everyone in that restaurant. When I change my focus, I will see the world differently. That focus has the ability to unite—just as it did the people of all ages and races, in that moment in time, in that restaurant.

What we focus on in life is our choice. This does not mean we sweep problems under the rug or ignore issues that need to be addressed. But, if we seek the good in each other, if we seek what is beautiful and true, we will have peace in our hearts. We will be motivated by hope. Love and joy are the fruits of such focus, which builds unity—and isn’t that just what this world needs now?

A Time for Contemplation and Mercy

In these days of quarantine, we watch the television for the daily updates on the spread of the Corona virus. As we watch the death tolls rise and pray that the curve flattens, fear and anxiety take over. 

We miss seeing our families, the hugs and kisses of grandchildren. We mourn for the anticipated loss of family gathered around the Easter dinner table. We grieve that we will not gather for the grand liturgical celebrations. Relegated to a screen to watch and pray, the trappings of worship may seem flat. We long for the time when we can join together again. 

It seems to be all the more difficult as we enter into Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday and Easter.

But there is another thought that has been emerging in the silence of my prayer as I take notice of my longing for the crowds, the sights and smells of Liturgy, to receive the Eucharist, and the joys of family. It is a small voice, but I do admit it is getting louder, especially as we enter into the Upper Room, the Garden of Gethsemane, the prison, the Praetorium, Calvary Hill and ultimately, the Tomb.

What has come to me in this time of quarantine is this: Do I love all the trappings more or is my desire truly centered and focused on the love of my Savior?

Jesus walked alone. While His Disciples were gathered around the table and He prayed that they all may be one, their hearts were not unified. One betrayed Him. One denied Him. Most ran away and hid. Only the Beloved Disciple, Mary, His Mother, Mary Magdalene and a few other women stood in consolation and unity with Him in His suffering.

But what if this time of quarantine, rather than a time of mourning the loss of what was, was a time to listen to that small voice and ask ourselves, "Who or what is truly the focus of our life and love?"

Do we love the Lord of Life or are we caught up with the feelings and emotions of the crowds? Are we swept away with the liturgical music, decorations and robes, or are we consumed with the love of the One who walked the solitary path of His Passion, Death and Resurrection? Are we swept up in the busyness of life or are we content to sit solely in His Divine Presence?

What if this time of quarantine is a time of God’s Mercy? What if it is an opportunity to sit in the stillness and solitude of Jesus and reflect on what truly moves our hearts and actions? What if it is a chance to consider what we think is critically important in our lives and ask, “Does this lead me ever closer to Jesus or is it an obstacle to that relationship?” What if this is a time for us to take account of who or what we are truly in love with? What if it is a time to let go and be swept ever more deeply by the Holy Spirit into the love that flows between Father and Son?

Let us give thanks for this time of quarantine as a time of quiet reflection, stripped of the distractions that often cause us to lose focus. Jesus walked the path to Calvary alone, confident in the love of His Father. Let us walk with Him. Let us give Him our anxieties and fears, knowing that despite what looks like a hopeless end—the Cross and tomb and yes, even this time of quarantine—are doorways to New Life.

Let us look at this time of isolation as an opportunity to create a new normal, rich in mercy and love, forgiveness and peace as we grow ever closer to Jesus.

What’s in a Name?

My husband and I have season tickets to the Detroit Symphony Orchestra. Every time we attend a concert, a man is standing out near the parking deck playing his trumpet. Far from a professional, he plays a couple lines from a variety of songs as people pass on the way to Orchestra Hall. Rain or shine. Snow or sweltering heat. He is there. Every concert.

Except the last one.

As we walked past “his spot” I noticed his silent absence. Throughout the concert I couldn’t help but wonder what happened to him. Was he ill? What if he died? What if…

It was amid the questions that I realized I didn’t even know his name.

Sure, we had dropped money in his tattered trumpet case and smiled as we walked past, but I knew nothing about him. I never told him his presence brought a bit of joy to every concert. It made me sad to think that after all these years, I had never taken the time to know his name or thank him.

The concert ended and as we walked outside, I could hear the broken notes of his trumpet. I felt a sense gratitude for this second chance. I went up to him and asked his name.

“Frank” he replied. I told him how much I had appreciated seeing him. A smile spread across his face and he said, “Well thank you and may God bless you.”

It got me thinking. How many others in my day do I just pass by? How many go unnoticed? How often do I let people know how much I appreciate them?

Scriptures assure us that God knows us intimately. Even the hairs on our heads are numbered (Luke 12:7; Matthew 10:30). He calls us each by name (Isaiah 43:1). God assures us we are precious in His eyes and honored, and He loves us (Isaiah 43:4). Our God is a God of relationships. Created in the image and likeness of God, we are called to be in relationship not only with God—but with each other. To call each other by name.

What would happen if we kept our eyes open to those around us? To the mother struggling to push her shopping cart while holding a sleeping infant? To the elderly man trying to open a door while hanging on to his walker? To the homeless person we would rather avoid? To the tattooed young adult asking for directions at the gas station? To our spouse? To our parents? To our children?

I was met by a man outside the St. Therese Chapel who was asking for money to pay his phone bill. I was on my way to a meeting and really wanted to keep walking, but I thought of Frank. I turned. Facing him, he repeated his plea. I asked him his name. “David” he replied. “Not the king, just David.” He laughed. I joked that we are all sons and daughters of the king. We both laughed. I gave him a couple of dollars but also asked if he wanted prayers. He eagerly accepted. We both promised to pray for each other.

Jesus calls us His friend. David and Frank are the most recent reminders to me that we are called to take notice. To be aware of the people around us and to reach out as Jesus did in friendship. The beauty of all of this is that when we do, we will be blessed by the encounter in ways far greater than we can ever anticipate.

Evangelizing Jesus

Today was my first day taking part in a popular evangelization series being run in churches all over the world.

As I walked into the room, I was greeted with enthusiasm by at least three people of whom I see regularly at Mass. The lady at the check-in table was extremely happy to see me, marking off my name and joyfully telling me my table assignment.

I recognized many of the people in the room. Most I have worshipped with for decades. There were a few new faces. Everyone was very eager for the session to begin.

The smiling hostess told a joke and made us feel welcome. The lunch was delicious.

We watched a short video that began with the question, "Who is Jesus?" The rest of the video, slickly done with beautiful videography and stunning scenes from the Holy Land, went on to "prove" that Jesus existed. The video’s presenter was a former lawyer-turned minister. He smiled broadly as he finished the clip, assured that he had given us what we needed to know that Jesus was "real."

In the time that has passed since I left the class, I have been thinking a lot about the experience. I realized a few things about myself and the assumption that we all come to know Jesus through the same process.

I was a young child, about five, when I had a profound experience of Jesus. There is no doubt in my mind that I had a very personal and life-changing encounter with Divine Love. I can honestly say that from that moment on, I knew Jesus was real and loved me very much.

My path to Jesus did not begin with an intellectual study of books and Scripture. That all came after that first, very personal encounter with radiating, unconditional love that I somehow, at that young age, knew was Jesus. 

I wonder in these days of trying to figure out how to bring people into a conversion experience if we aren't going about it the wrong way. It’s as if we are assaulting them with Jesus. Proofs and facts, arguments and debates. We are intellectualizing what should be intimately personal.

Jesus is a human being with whom we are invited to be in relationship. He is God, fully Divine, with whom we are to enter into the mystery. Jesus envelopes us and fills us. He transforms our very being. Jesus wells up from within us, overtakes us and fills us.

 I think coming to know Jesus is so much more than a lawyer laying down the facts or a scientist proving hypotheses.

I have concluded there is no one-size-fits-all path to Jesus. As unique as each of us is, our path to Jesus is equally distinctive. I am convinced the key to evangelization is building relationships with those around us. Seeing each other as people to be loved. Desiring to share what we have with others and longing for their happiness. Being with them in their woundedness so that through prayer they are consoled and made whole through the healing power of God. Loving ourselves and each other as the vulnerable people we are and allowing Jesus to transform our every cell and fiber with His Love.

When we do, we will know Jesus in profound ways. Our thirst for Him will compel us forward, to learn about Him, be with Him, and joyfully share Him with others.

My Parents' Greatest Gift

"Like Jesus, we too are meant to give our lives away in generosity and selflessness, but we are also meant to give our deaths away, not just at the moment of our deaths, but in a whole process of leaving this planet in such a way that our diminishment and death is our final, and perhaps greatest, gift to the world. Needless to say, this is not easy. Walking in discipleship behind the master will require that we too sweat blood and feel 'a stone's throw' from everybody. This struggle, to give our deaths away, constitutes Radical Discipleship."
— Ronald Rolheiser, Sacred Fire: A Vision for A Deeper Human and Christian Maturity

I came across this quote by Ronald Rolheiser as I was doing research for a retreat. I was struck by his words and began reflecting on my own experience of being with another in their final hours of life.

My Mother died twenty years ago. It is difficult to image that much time has passed, but I remember my last conversation with her as if it was yesterday.

My Mom

Suffering from cancer and weakened by her struggle, she could barely hold a conversation in her final days. Late one night after I had left the hospital, the phone rang. I was afraid to answer, fearing it would be my Dad, telling me that Mom had died. Instead it was her faint voice I heard. She was so weak I have no clue how she dialed the phone, let alone held it to her head to speak, yet she called.

“Judith” she said, “I just want to tell you, I love you. I have always loved you and I always will.”

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I told her I loved her too. Those last words are so dear to me, because they speak of eternal love—and the hope of being reunited.

My Father died just this past year.

My last photo with Dad

Sitting next to his bed after having been put on a ventilator to give his heart and lungs a rest, the medical staff called the family together to tell us there was nothing more they could do for him. My Dad, who I had always looked to as my source of strength would not pull through this last battle. I would never hear his voice again and I said a silent prayer to God that I might, just one more time, get to see his dancing blue eyes that were always full of life.

Before they pulled the ventilator, the family said their final good-byes, not knowing how long he may survive without medical assistance. I was one of the last to leave the room before the medical team entered the room. Laying my head down on his pillow next to his head, I whispered into his ear how much I loved him. I looked at my sweet Father and thought of my prayer. With that his eyes opened, and he looked at me with a gaze filled with incredible love. A tear rolled down his cheek and we were held, suspended, in a sacred moment between father and daughter that was graced with eternal love.

My Mother and Father’s parting gave me incredible gifts: a depth of love that goes beyond the grave and the hope of reunion with God for all eternity. They were people of faith who through their dying moments shared the opening of new life, not lost life; eternal love, love that is not confined to this world.

Every time I receive the Eucharist at Mass, I am united in that love. I am surrounded by all those Radical Disciples who through their death gave me a glimpse of eternity. We are gathered together in the Celebration of Unity and Love. Christ has claimed the victory; death cannot destroy love.

This was my parents’ greatest gift and I thank Fr. Rolheiser for reminding me of this.

Reflecting on History and Invitation

I love history and am especially intrigued by the people and events of the Second World War. The era showcased man and society at its very worst and yet, there was always a ray of hope.

A few years ago I had the opportunity to visit Auschwitz in Poland. The horrors of the concentration camp were magnified by the realization that engineers, businessmen, bankers, and many others actually made money off the slave labor of the camps. Hair from shaved heads was sold as upholstery stuffing. Shoes, clothes, and personal belongings were sold to finance war efforts. Genetic testing on innocent children was done to determine best ways to control population. Chemists and engineers worked on the most efficient ways to exterminate people who were deemed “unnecessary”. 

How could this happen? Why didn’t people stand up against it?

Later in the day as we walked through the streets of Kraków, I realized God in His infinite Mercy had never abandoned His people. Prior to the ramping up of World War II a young nun by the name of Sr. Faustina Kowalska began receiving messages from Jesus. The encounters not only taught her of His mercy, but encouraged her to tell the world. With little formal education this simple nun proclaimed the message of Jesus' Divine Mercy through her diary. The message reminded us of God’s incredible love for each of us, despite our sinfulness. His merciful arms are open and waiting and for us.

At the same time in history, another young woman answered God's call. Born into a Jewish family, Edith Stein spent her life in search of Truth, which took her on a journey through atheism to Catholicism. As a young college student and nurse she witnessed firsthand the horrors of World War I. As Nazism escalated Edith witnessed the systematic destruction of the Jewish culture and people. She spoke out, proclaiming, "The nation...doesn't simply need what we have, it needs what we are." Edith’s convictions led her to the Carmelite order, where she took the name Sr. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross. Because of her Jewish heritage, Sr. Teresa was taken from her cloister in Holland and martyred in the gas chambers of Auschwitz. To one who lived mercy, none was given.

At our visit to the Divine Mercy Sanctuary just outside of Krakow, the incredible witness of God presence and mercy hit home. Below the main Sanctuary were several chapels connected by a glass wall to a main chapel dedicated to Sr. Faustina Kowalska. Following her death her diary been published, giving the message of Divine Mercy to the world.

One of the chapels was donated by Germany. The sacred space was unlike the others in its starkness. Walls painted white, a barbed wire stencil ran at chair height around the room. The altar was a stone block. Sitting on it was a small black iron crucifix made of nails. Hanging on the glass wall behind the altar, which looked out into the St. Faustina chapel, was a huge cross encircled by a crown of thorns. Made of steel and barbed wire, the harshness echoed the evil of the crucifixion of not only Jesus, but all the innocents who suffer at the hands of evil. Across from the chapel’s entrance was a life-sized sculpture of Sr. Teresa Benedicta (Edith Stein), whose arms held the crucified body of Christ as it she had lifted Him from the Cross..

I froze as I entered into the chapel. Looking at the statue, it was as if Edith Stein was now offering Jesus’ broken Body to me. Stunned, I turned my head and through the cross and crown of thorns, could see the image of St. Faustina looking back at me. "Take Him," they seemed to be saying. "Take those who are suffering under the weight of sin, and be mercy."

Auschwitz is a reminder of the horrors of man's sinfulness. Despite of such incredible darkness, God was and is present. His Holy Spirit gives voice to those who, like Faustina, Edith Stein, and so many others who bravely stood against the face of evil, to speak out. Their courage reminds us to not succumb to hatred, sin, and evil, but to stand up and be a voice for love, mercy, compassion, and forgiveness in the world.

The Church canonized St. Faustina and St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross/Edith Stein (and many others from the WWII era). We must remember God has empowered us through the Holy Spirit to be His instruments of His Love, Compassion, Forgiveness, and Mercy, and today. When we do, we incarnate Jesus in a world so desperately in need of His Love.

“Why are you standing there looking at the sky?”

Taken from the Acts of the Apostles 1:11, this line uttered by the angels following the Ascension of Our Lord is one of my favorite. It shows our humanity in oh so many ways.  It also makes clear the invitation to stop gazing up and “get going.”

The walk of a disciple is the constant invitation to live boldly our love for Christ. There is also a bit of trepidation as we strive to discover just how God invites us to share the Gospel with others. Mathew’s Gospel even notes this as those assembled “worshipped Him but doubted” (Mt 28:16-18).

I once read that fear and doubt are the exact opposite of faith—they cannot co-exist.

While those gathered saw the resurrected Jesus in their midst, they still doubted. What was the source of their questioning and anxiety? The reality of the resurrection? The promise of Jesus’ words? Their ability to carry out the great commission? The fear of where the invitation might lead? What will others think? All are reasonable thoughts and at their very core, very human.

When I think of those gathered with Jesus that day, I think there is a little bit of them in us today.

How often have we struggled to figure out how to find Jesus in the midst of daily living? How often have we wondered just what it is that God is inviting us to “do”? How often have we wondered how to live our faith in the midst of turmoil? How often have we questioned whether Jesus is truly with us—that He hasn’t abandoned us? How often have we been afraid to admit we need God?

St. Paul’s words to the Ephesians (Eph 1:17-23) reassure us that we have been given the Spirit of wisdom and knowledge. We also have planted within us the seeds of great hope. The challenge is to discover and unleash the Spirit within.

We receive the Holy Spirit in baptism. We consume the Divine Presence in the Eucharist. Through reception of the Sacraments we are constantly filled with the One who will never abandon us and the hope that one day we will be united forever with the One who loves us. This is Good News!

St. Paul reminds us that “We can do all things through Christ who strengthens us” (Phil 4:13).

The Ascension is a time of letting go of our old ways, doubts, and fears and celebrating the new life we received at Easter. As we let go of the practices, habits, and sins that are obstacles in our relationship with God as we embrace new life in Christ. We reflect with gratitude on the experiences of life that led us to this point and gratefully break the chains of what impedes our path.

Let us reflect on how much God truly loves us as we enter into the silence of our own “Upper Room” to pray and discern where the Holy Spirit is inviting us as part of the invitation to go forth to make disciples of all nations.

Reflections on the March for Women

Watching the news last night, they interviewed a woman who was marching today in Washington. She held a bright pink shirt and shouted that women needed to “get the dignity we deserve.” She was adamant—each time she repeated the statement she became louder and more agitated.

This morning as women (and a smattering of men) gathered to march for the “rights” of women, I wonder if they truly knew for what they were marching. The right to abortion? The right to birth control? The right to marry whoever they want? Would that “get” them dignity?

As one who was a chemical engineer working in a field with very few women over 35 years ago, I shared in the dream to break the glass ceiling. I wanted to be recognized for my brain and talents, not objectified for my body. I wanted equal pay for equal work. I wanted to be valued and cherished for the person I was—not for someone else’s idea of what I should be.

What I realized then as I realize at an ever-deeper level now is that respect and love and feelings of being cherished come from a place deep inside of me. It is from a source who has called me by name, created me in His image and likeness, as His beloved for all time. I have an inherent dignity due to this identity—one that no man or woman can take away.

This core belief comes from being a beloved daughter of God.

If I continue to look to others for love and acceptance to complete me I will be forever chasing after something I will never obtain. God is the only One who can fill that space residing in me—that exists in each one of us. No human being can fill that void completely.

Women have an inherent dignity and worth in the eyes of God, equal in dignity to man. Not better, not less. Equal.

We contaminate that belief when we attach a “value” to our worth. Rather than seeing each as gift, we distort the image and likeness of God by saying it is not enough and then chasing after ideals, images, and actions that cheapen, not enrich, who we are.

Rather than marching and protesting, rather than ranting expletives about our President, why don’t we practice what many signs read in the sea of women gathered? Love trumps hate.

Our bodies are given to bear forth life. Celebrate that—don’t kill it.

Our hearts beat with compassion for the most vulnerable—the children we carry and those we nurture and care for. We are wired to be mothers—whether biological or spiritual. Celebrate that—don’t bury it.

Our minds are quick and imaginative. We can calculate figures, create works of art, run a household or a major corporation. Celebrate the gifts and stand shoulder to shoulder with the men that do the same, respecting all.

Woman was made to compliment man and together and in unity and love we are the creative force that bears for life, sustains the earth, and hands on the hope of a future that through the grace of God continues generation after generation. Women alone cannot do that and neither can men.

Today rather than protest what we are not, let us celebrate our inherent dignity giving thanks and praise to the One who created us. Let us live as gifts to one another, recognizing the inherent dignity in all.

The Power of Pentecost

As I sat in the pew just prior to Mass, I could feel the energy. Was it my imagination or was the Holy Spirit present in a heightened way on this Feast of Pentecost?

Red abounded in the Church—from the decorative banners, vestments, and flowers to the people—many of whom also dressed in red. There was an excitement and anticipation that was palpable.

I thought about the readings and the awe those gathered in the Upper Room must have felt as the strong wind moved about the room and tongues of fire rested above their heads. Hearts transformed, charisms unleashed, movement to the streets and the Gospel proclaimed in the languages of the people that had been unknown to the disciples prior to the gifting. What an experience of the Reality and Power of God!

I smiled. Unless a miraculous healing occurred at Mass I would not be speaking today—I had laryngitis. I thought of how Zechariah had been silenced until the naming of his son, John the Baptist and how silence is a gift too.

Being able to listen is integral to evangelization. If we don’t listen to others, we become the resounding gong and clashing cymbal of which St. Paul writes (1Cor 13.1). Listening allows us to hear the other’s story and meet them where they are. If we don’t, evangelization would be as fruitful as putting a kindergartener in a college level calculus class and wondering why they didn’t grasp the material.

Listening is an art and I almost wonder if not also a charism. We all have ears to hear, but often wonder where the listening goes—in one ear and out the other? Perhaps to the head or the heart but not to both?

If I am honest, I have to admit that many times I listen but have caught myself forming opinions and responses before the other is even finished with what it is they have to say. That is judgment—intellectual listening without compassion in order to respond with an answer to fix or solve a problem.

When I listen with my heart first, I am compelled to hear another’s story with openness. Empathy and compassion are present and I am moved to respond in kind. The heart then engages the head and I can discern how best to console or connect with the other.

As the Holy Spirit lavishes charisms upon us all, we are invited to be open channels for these sacred gifts. Charisms are always received to be given away for the building up of another. Charisms are gifts given to us by the Holy Spirit to bring others into relationship with God through Jesus Christ. Just as Mary gave her “yes” to the invitation of the Holy Spirit allowing Jesus to come into the world, we too are given the opportunity to give our “yes” and incarnate Jesus through our lives—so that others may come to know Him too.

Following the Feast of Pentecost let us continue to reflect on how that same Holy Spirit who once empowered those gathered in the Upper Room empowers us today. May our ears be opened. Whose voice is crying out? Where is the hand of God leading us to bring His Word? How can you be a vessel to incarnate the unconditional love, mercy, forgiveness and compassion of Jesus in our family, community, and world?

How is God inviting you to listen with a compassionate heart and respond to the needs of His People?

Focusing on the Year of Mercy:

The Phrase that Makes God Weep

 

I have arthritis and need to wear braces on my hands to calm down flair ups. The supports limit my range of motion and make any task having to do with grip or dexterity all the more challenging. On a recent trip to the grocery store, I found myself in the produce section struggling to get a plastic bag opened for my celery. Trying to rub the top of the plastic to separate the thin sheets, I was becoming more and more frustrated. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a woman approaching me.

“Oh, I know how hard those bags are to get open,” she cheerfully said. I admit her chipper attitude just added to my aggravation. “I can help you with that” she offered kindly. “I got this” I said, focusing all the more intently on the task. She came closer. “No, let me help” she smiled.

Upset at the fact I was struggling and too proud to accept her assistance, I assured her I was capable of doing it myself. Nodding, she smiled and walked away. After a few more tries I finally got the bag open, put the celery in and continued my shopping. As I did began to think about the kindness offered and my refusal. I searched for the woman to apologize for my rudeness. I never did find her.

On the way home I replayed the scene over and over. I felt awful. I did need help in the store and someone, seeing my struggle, responded out of mercy. My pride stood in the way of accepting her offer of kindness. Upon further reflection, I began to think about all the times I have refused God’s mercy because I was too stubborn to admit I needed Him. I thought how sad God must be every time He watches me struggle, whether it be in small tasks or large life issues and as He sends angels or graces to help, my response is to say, “I can do this myself” and with hardened heart attempt, time after time, to do it my way.

While we may think the Year of Mercy is about us being merciful to others (and it is), we are also invited to reflect on how we receive mercy. We live in a culture that thrives on individualism and independence, but truth be told, we are the strongest when we learn to rely on God and each other. God knows our needs and sends others to us in times of weakness and trial. The virtue of humility is integral to our being able to accept another’s merciful assistance. It also allows them to live out their God-given mission as well.

As we continue to grow and understand the great gift of God’s Mercy, let us pray for the virtue of humility so that we may humbly accept God’s help when we need it!

Celebrating Mom and all the Saints in our Lives

My Mother's birthday is on All Saints Day. She used to tell us when we were little that she loved having her birthday on a Feast Day because she always had it off school (I guess in those days Catholic Schools were not in session for Holy Days). I loved listening to her stories about growing up, her siblings, and what it was like living through the Depression and World War II.

My Mother passed away several years ago after a very difficult battle with cancer. As I sat by her bedside, I could see how the pain was wracking her body. We would talk about her life but mostly about God and what Heaven was going to be like. I cherish the memories of those conversations. As I approach the age my Mother was when she passed away, I realize how short a time she was with us and how sacred the time we have with each other is. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about her.

Even though Mom isn't physically here, I know she is with me every day. When our daughter got married, I knew Mom's spirit was with us. She was there for every graduation. She was at our grandchildren's births and baptisms. She is also with me in the times of struggle; times when my heart was breaking and all I wanted was a hug. In all these times, knew she was there.

Our relationship wasn't without it's challenges. I was far from a perfect child and was the typical know-it-all young adult who didn't need any help from anyone. After all, I went to college. I knew everything I needed to know. I had a great job. I got married to the man of my dreams. My husband and I were living the American Dream--a house, two cars, a cat and a dog.

It wasn't until I had my own children that I realized how little I actually knew about life. I could "do" just fine. What I realized is that life is more than "doing", it is "being." It was in the struggles of being a mother that I learned to truly appreciate my own Mother.

Regardless of the relationship, Moms hold a very special place in the hearts of their children--I wish I could physically tell my Mom how special she was to me. She encouraged me and taught me how to stand on my own two feet. She volunteered for countless school and scouting activities. When I look back over my childhood, I know it wasn't perfect. I was a sassy kid that caused my Mom to lose her patience on more than one occasion (like the time I mixed all the chemicals together from my chemistry set and threw a match in to see what would happen). We tested each other to the max, I am sure, but I always knew deep down I was loved. My Mom never gave up on me. She continually gave of herself. Her life wasn't about "doing", it was about "being."

Her last words to me the night before she died summed up the entirety of what it means to be a Mom, a parent, a saint. Mustering up what little strength she had left, she told me "I love you. I have always loved you and always will love you." Eternal and unconditional love. I can still hear her say those dear words to me. It isn't about the "doing" but the "being"--being love.

We will gather on November 1 to celebrate my Mom and all the other saints (both canonized and not). Not a single one of us will live forever, however, we do live on in those whose lives we have touched. Though my Mom won't be sitting around the table for dinner as we celebrate, she holds a special place the hearts of each of us who knew her.

Happy birthday Mom!

Going In to Go Out

Our Blessed Mother, Central to Pentecost

Evangelization is the buzz word in the Catholic Church these days. It seems everybody is talking about it. Parishes are putting evangelization committees in place. Programs are being planned. People are eager to jump in and get going. Before we get too caught up, however, I would like to ponder a bit on just what we truly need to do to prepare to carry out the mission of evangelization.

Evangelization is not a new concept. In fact, the Holy Spirit's descent upon those gathered in the Upper Room in Acts 1 and 2 give an account of the first evangelization effort of the new church. Filled with the Holy Spirit, the joy and zeal of those who received cannot be contained. The disciples burst out of the Room and go into the streets, proclaiming the Good News in the languages of the people--speaking in tongues not known to the disciples prior to their encounter with the Spirit. One could say it was the first manifestation of charisms--speaking in tongues.

When we contemplate the accounts of this first evangelization effort, I would like to reflect on a point. This being that you have to go in before you go out. What do I mean by that?

Those gathered in the Upper Room were gathered around Our Blessed Mother, who had already encountered the Holy Spirit. In fact, she was overshadowed by and filled with the Spirit at the Annunciation. The result of this encounter was the Word became Flesh--the birth of Jesus. Mary was literally the anchor of the first evangelization effort of the new church.

I can only imaging the prayers being offered by those gathered in that room as they awaited the Advocate promised by Jesus, surrounded the one who was already Full of Grace and the Spirit. They were going in; deep within themselves in prayer. They were coming to know who they were in this great mission that was to be theirs', handed down from Christ.

We, too, must go inward before we can go out.

Prayer must be the cornerstone for evangelization. Deep prayer. Contemplative prayer. Prayer that places us in the presence of the Jesus Himself. We need to quiet ourselves before the Almighty and listen to what it is that He needs to tell us. We must open ourselves to His Will and ask Him to clearly show us what He wants of us. We must ask that the Holy Spirit enkindle in our hearts a flame of love for the Lord. We must discern our charisms, gifts given to us by the Spirit for the great mission for which God has created us. We also must discern the mission. We cannot go off on our own--all must be for God's glory and purpose.

This type of prayer takes time. It takes discernment. It takes knowing ourselves and knowing, in a deep way, our Savior. Of falling madly in love with the One who created and loves us.

Only then will we be able to go out. When our interior life is centered on Jesus, only then will we be able to go out and proclaim the Good News of the Gospel.

It is only when we have felt the embrace of Jesus; the deep peace of unconditional love, mercy, and forgiveness, that we can go out. It is only then that we will see with the eyes of Jesus. It is only then that we will understand the powerful love we are to bring to the world through our words and most importantly, our actions.

It is then we become the image of Jesus incarnate in the world today. When we do this, we will be able to evangelize with a boldness and zeal that will not be contained. We will live lives filled with joy. Then we will be the light that draws people to Jesus!

Remember, before we go out, we must go deep within ourselves to know the movement of the Holy Spirit and meet Jesus, who lives deep within our heart.

Before we can go out, we must go in!

Let us not forget!

Last year many took part in prayer rallies focusing on Religious Freedom. I stood in the midst of thousands gathered in front of the Federal Building in Detroit to make a stand for the right to worship the God I love and live the tenants of my faith openly as a citizen of the United States.

This year, while the hype may not be as loud, the Fortnight for Freedom, which begins on June 21 and runs through the Fourth of July, is just as important. Our rights as guaranteed in our country's founding documents, should be read by every adult and youth in this land. Men and women have laid down their lives for these rights--both here and abroad. Blood has been shed for these ideals. They are sacred.

Let us not forget our responsibility as citizens of this United States to defend these rights, to protect those who cannot speak or defend themselves, and to ensure that all who call this land "home" enjoy the rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, as guaranteed in our Bill of Rights.

I invite you to click on the video link to prayerfully reflect on the call to live our faith boldly, not only in the pews on Sunday, but more importantly, in every aspect of our life--from the workplace, to the street, to our families, and into every corner of society.

The Walking Dead

It seems our culture has a preoccupation with zombies. I don't understand the trend, but there are zombie movies, TV series, video games, and a plethora of books and Websites on the topic. We are intrigued by the plight of the walking dead.

This past Sunday's readings from 1Kings 17:17-24 and Luke 7:11-17 give witness to the prophet Elijah and Jesus raising widows' sons from the dead. So what do these two miracles have in common with our fascination with zombies, you might ask?

It was later on Sunday the words of Scripture came to light in a new way for me.

Our families and friends had gathered at a local establishment for my daughter's 30th birthday. The party was a surprise, held at one of her favorite family fun centers, which included the all-too-popular zombie shoot-em-up video games.

As we were leaving, I noticed a little boy of about 10-years old standing outside of the main entrance. His little brother, who was all of about 8, was standing just inside the lobby. Both were staring out into the parking lot. The look on their faces contained more fear and hurt than any child should ever have to experience.

Bending down to the older child, I could see his eyes were welling with tears. "What's the matter, sweetie?" I asked. He looked up at me and began to cry. "Oh honey, are you lost?" I asked. "Do you need help?" With that, he began to choke out his story, between sobs.

"My mom and dad are fighting out in the parking lot, " he sobbed. "I don't think they are going to be together much longer and I am scared." My heart went out to him and his brother, whose look of concern for his brother was evident as he peered through the lobby window.

Scanning the parking lot, I couldn't see anyone but he let me know his mom and dad were in their car.

"Let's go inside with your brother," I said, walking with him back into the lobby where staff members were on guard. Bending down to both of them, I tried to calm and comfort them, all the while waiting for mom or dad to enter the building.

Finally after a bit, the couple came into the building, walking right past their broken children, who were left to follow along. It was then the words of the Sunday readings came back to me.

The images of those two young boys haunted me for the rest of the day. Reflecting on the experience, I realized how many "walking dead" we have among us. Those who may be upright, but whose souls are dead. Hate, fear, and confusion--all the fruits of sin, have numbed so many to the ability to love and be loved, that we are literally, walking zombies--the living dead.

Like Elijah and as disciples of Jesus, we are called to bring the Good News of New Life through Christ to all--especially those caught in lives of sin who cannot seem to find their way out. We live in a society built on immediate gratification and "if it feels good, do it." While this lifestyle may lead to short-term highs and "happiness", all too often it is the top of the slippery slope of sin whose true fruits are destruction--the demolishing of relationships and families. These two young boys were evidence of that.

God is love and it is up to us to give witness to His unconditional love.

There is much talk in today's communities of faith about evangelization. Debates over programs and strategies abound. The answer is simple, however. The best way to evangelize, to bring Jesus to others, is to be love. Whether by sharing words of compassion and care or even, when necessary, words of fraternal correction given in love, we are called to be and share Jesus' love, mercy, forgiveness, and compassion with others.

When we do, we share the invitation to new life in Christ--to a life of joy, peace, true happiness, and contentment. What a remedy for a society fixated on zombies and the walking dead!

Relationships and the Holy Trinity

This past Sunday the Church celebrated the Feast of the Most Holy Trinity. The Feast preceded Memorial Day, which gave me pause for reflection on how our human relationships are called to mirror the loving relationship of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.

My Father and father-in-law were both Marines. I have children in the military and many family members and friends who are in active service to our country. When I think of the sacrifice our soldiers have made over the years, both in their service and many with their lives, I am humbled.

When I think of the duty of a soldier, I stand in admiration. Soldiers have a Creed and values by which they are called to live. These values push them beyond human limits in times of adversity, calling them to a higher level of loyalty and commitment than we might think is impossible in today's world. The Soldier's Creed talks of never accepting defeat, never quitting, never leaving a fallen comrade. The Creed also speaks of the care a soldier takes in regards to their own body, arms, and equipment. Soldiers are called to lay their life down for another so that our American freedoms and way of life may be maintained. In short, a soldier is called to think, act, and care for others ahead of themselves. A soldier knows what it is to make a commitment and live by it--even if it means laying their life down for it.

How does this relate to the Holy Trinity, you might ask?

The loving relationship flowing between God the Father and God the Son is the Holy Spirit, the same Spirit that flows from the heart of Jesus Christ to us, drawing us into this holy relationship. The love that flows is a love that knows no cost. It is unconditional. This love is the passionate love of creation (God the Father) as well as the sacrificial love of one who is willing to lay down their life so that others might live (God the Son).

We are called to live this love in every relationship that we have--whether as husband and wife, parent and child, neighbors, co-workers, citizens, and we see this lived out every day in our soldiers.

As disciples, we know personally the Savior who loved us enough to die for our sins, opening the door to eternal life. We are also called to live deeply this love and be this love for others. This means a love that is forgiving, merciful, unconditional, eternal, self-sacrificing, loyal, trustworthy, truthful, and all of the other attributes of Divine Love.

We will always do this perfectly? No--we are a sinful people. Our sin ruptures the loving relationships that we have. Sin causes great pain and hurt--but we cannot and should not despair. It is the Holy Trinity that gives us hope that in and through God, our loving relationships can be healed and glorified--just as Christ's Passion, death, and resurrection did.

Blessed Teresa of Calcutta discovered the relationship between love and hurt. "I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only love."

When our relationships challenge us, we must love more deeply. When we feel lost, we must love those around us and God more deeply. We must pray for strength through the Holy Spirit, that the Spirit may draw us ever closer to the heart of Jesus. Let us be comforted by Him and thus, bring that comfort to those in our lives whom we have hurt or are hurting.

In the end, love is the answer--to love as we see exemplified in the Love of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit--three in One. May God give us the strength to love and when we fail to do so, have mercy on us and fill us with all the greater capacity to love.

Preparing for Evangelization

In this Year of Faith it seems that we, as Catholics, will be put to the test. Whether it is in the formation of our conscience as we select our next President or as we work to transform the culture of death to one of life, we will face challenges. In addition to growing inwardly, however, the Year of Faith also challenges us to share the faith with others.

As we look to how to evangelize, I think first we have to reflect on a few questions ourselves. We cannot give what we do not have. Therefore, we must truly know the depth of our own conviction and what it will take, both personally and communally, to be witnesses of Christ in a hostile world. Here are a few questions to reflect upon:

• Who is Jesus to me?
• What does it mean to have faith in Jesus Christ?
• How has God gifted me to live that faith boldly, sharing Christ with others?
• What does it mean to live as Catholics in a culture that challenges our faith?
• Am I willing to suffer the slings and arrows of others (including those I love and those inside the Church that I love) to stand for Christ and His Church?
• How do I work to unite my will and intellect, the heart and the head, when deepening my relationship with Christ and others?
• How am I called to lead others into a deeper faith?
• How can I work to bring about unity within my Church and world?
• How can I lead people into a deeper understanding of Truth, when our society is one of relativism?

These are reasonable questions we have to ponder as we, individually and as a Church, discern how to go about bringing the Good News of the Gospel to a world living in darkness, violence, chaos, and confusion.

Recent surveys noting people are more spiritual than religious are indicators there is a great desire for people to know God—even if they cannot name Him as of yet in their search. This longing comes deep from within—not a surface desire or even, I daresay, one that begins as an idea. It is a pining for love and acceptance rooted deep within our soul.

Helping people identify that desire to love and be loved as the voice of God is the first step in moving toward a deep and meaningful relationship with Jesus Christ. In turn, it is Jesus who will ultimately lead us to the relationship of unconditional love, mercy, and forgiveness with God and those around us, through the working of the Holy Spirit.

Love is a universal language. It does not rely on academic degrees, finances, outward physical beauty, or success to make an impact. Sometimes we try to over think things. This makes efforts to evangelize all the more difficult. Jesus Christ did not come to proclaim a program, but a path to salvation through a way of life. This is strengthened within the life of the community of faith, through relationships with God and each other.

We cannot strike out on our own. If we do we are no better than the people of Babel. We cannot decide individually what ‘Jesus’ we are going to follow. Scripture tells us, “If a house is divided against itself, it cannot stand” (Mark 3:25).

Anyone who has felt the compassionate touch of Christ in their life knows what I am talking about. When you have been held in the bosom of His embrace, felt His warm breath flow over you, and have gazed into the eyes of His Compassion and Truth, there is no other person for which you would lay down your life. It is that force which drives you onward to share His Good News, to take on the criticisms of those you love and those you do not know, to leave the comfort of home to enter into the hostile mission fields.

Evangelization is sharing the deep love of Christ—but before we can do that, we ourselves must have experienced Him in the most intimate way. How can we do this? We do it through prayer—deep prayer—of adoration, a begging of the Holy Spirit to set our hearts aflame. We also do this as part of a larger community of faith fed on the Sacraments and sent forth. When we know Jesus most intimately and are filled with His Passion, then and only then we will be able to do great things for the Lord. Anything else is in life, in comparison, is “just straw”, to quote St. Thomas Aquinas!