Lent

2nd Week of Lent, Tuesday

by

One of the categories of Lenten resolutions is fasting, which we usually consider in terms of food, but really opens the door to various ways of practicing self-denial as a way of growing in spiritual self-mastery and not letting unhealthy or unholy passions drive us. We can live driven by passion, and some passions are good, because they are noble and holy, but we also know, as Our Lord reminds us, that other passions, such as selfish ambition, are bad. Whether we’re a hall monitor, manager, or CEO we know that ambition, pride, and vanity can blind us to the fact that the position of authority we hold is not just meant to be self-serving, but to serve others as well.

Honors, authority, titles and recognition should not be ends in and of themselves; that would be a sign that selfish ambition was driving us. We all have a tendency at times to seek self-promotion and self-aggrandizement. Why not “fast” from that this Lent? Why not take stock of whatever authority, duty, or responsibility you have received and make an effort to serve through it and to not be self-serving in carrying it out? Chances are that Lenten resolution will help your charity and prayer as well; charity in that you’re putting other people first, and prayer in that you’re asking Our Lord what you should do and how you should do it, not your ego.

Let’s ask Our Lord today how we can serve, not how we can be served, just as he taught the disciples to do.

Readings: Isaiah 1:10, 16–20; Psalm 50:8–9, 16b–17, 21, 23; Matthew 23:1–12. See also 20th Week in Ordinary Time, Saturday, 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B, and 9th Week in Ordinary Time, Saturday.

2nd Sunday of Lent, Cycle C

by

In today’s First Reading the Lord rewards Abram’s faith that the promise he had already made regarding Abram’s descendants would be fulfilled. This faith was seen as righteousness: it showed that Abram was pleasing to God, a thought St. Paul would later develop in his letters. We are those descendants, because we call Abram (later renamed Abraham by the Lord) our father in faith. The Lord also promised Abram that the land he was dwelling in would be his; his nomadic existence would one day end and he’d have a place he could truly call home. Abram asked how he would know and the Lord instructed him to prepare the ceremony for establishing a covenant. In Abram’s time, two people entering into covenant would walk between sacrificed animals that had been split in half as a way of saying they’d bring the same fate upon themselves if they broke the covenant. In this moment of salvation history this insight into God’s relationship with those who have faith is something murky, even terrifying. Abram didn’t even have to make the walk; the Lord offered freely to enter into the covenant, and it was a disproportionate act of generosity on his part. Abram persevered in his faith and God’s promises were fulfilled.

In a mysterious way, when covenants with God were broken left and right throughout salvation history, the Lord did take the punishment upon himself, sparing his people, to the point that the Son shed his bled to establish a new and everlasting covenant. In today’s Second Reading Paul laments those who have become enemies of the Cross of Christ and chosen comfort over the difficult path of renunciation that true glory requires. He reminds us that we are citizens of Heaven and that is where we should be headed. The Cross is the way, there are no detours, no shortcuts. The Lord in today’s Gospel is preparing his disciples for the trials of faith they’re about to endure when he is handed over in Jerusalem to suffer his Passion. They have an experience of God in great contrast from Abram’s experience: from something vague and confusing to something blindingly insightful, so much so that the confusion and fright comes from trying to process it all. On the mountaintop they see Christ in his glory; his divinity shines through. They see two of the greatest holy men of their salvation history flanking him: Elijah and Moses, who speak of what Our Lord must endure. They receive a revelation of the Trinity: the Son in his divinity, the Holy Spirit in the cloud overshadowing them, and the Father speaking from the cloud. It is all still veiled in mystery, but it’s like a light along a dark road that encourages you to keep moving forward.

We still have many weeks of Lent before Our Lord’s Passion and Glory. Let’s continue along the path of the Cross through contemplating these mysteries and living our Lenten resolutions well, knowing it is the only path to the fulfillment of God’s promises.

Readings: Genesis 15:5–12, 17–18; Psalm 27:1, 7–9, 13–14; Philippians 3:17–4:1; Luke 9:28b–36. See also Transfiguration of the Lord, Cycle B and 2nd Week of Advent, Saturday.

1st Week of Lent, Saturday

by

In yesterday‘s Gospel we considered the need to make an effort to reconcile and forgive anyone with which we’ve been in enmity. So what about when they don’t want to reconcile? What about if they’re hostile to us, or it might even be dangerous to us if we approach them? There are also faceless, anonymous enemies to our society and to our faith, faces we may never meet in this lifetime, but faces who seek some ruin for something we consider important. Despite our best efforts there are people, wittingly or unwittingly, who see the values reflected by the Gospel as a threat and want to respond with their own, often destructive, agenda.

If we live as Our Lord wishes, all the things Moses promises Israel on behalf of the Lord in the First Reading today will be fulfilled, and people who don’t share that joy will be jealous. Our light will shine, and people in darkness will either seek it out or curse it because it blinds them. We can’t know what’s going on entirely in a soul that’s battling darkness and sin, but we do know that the longer they’re exposed to that light, the greater chance their eyes will adapt to it and start to see by it. That light is charity. Charity toward those we love, charity toward those we’ve wronged, and charity toward those who hate us.

The exaltation, praise, and glory that the Lord promises us in today’s First Reading is due to out charity. Lent may be somberly penitential, but it should also be blindingly charitable. Let’s hold high the beacon of our charity so that everyone can see by its light.

Readings: Deuteronomy 26:16–19; Psalm 119:1–2, 4–5, 7–8; Matthew 5:43–48.  See also 11th Week in Ordinary Time, Tuesday and 23rd Week in Ordinary Time, Thursday.

1st Week of Lent, Friday

by

Giving alms in its most traditional form consists of helping the poor and the needy in some way, but in today’s Gospel we’re reminded that our charity toward others can be a Lenten almsgiving that is just as pleasing to Our Lord. Just as we lavish a meal, some clothes, or some other necessity on the poor we can lavish mercy on someone we feel has wronged us. It’s easy to settle for just not physically harming someone who has crossed us, or maintaining an angry distance and silence, but Our Lord warns us that is a very superficial attitude that doesn’t entail reconciliation.

In many cases in which we estrange ourselves from God, we estrange ourselves from others. Two effects of the sacrament of Reconciliation are reconciliation with God and reconciliation with the Church. Our Lord reminds us today that this reconciliation is a two-way street: we can ask ourselves how reconciled we are with God if we haven’t reconciled with others. This provides food for thought when we have that moment of silence in the Penitential Rite at the start of every celebration of the Eucharist: do we need to reconcile with someone, whether as the guilty party or as the victim? This isn’t necessarily “feeling it”: if someone hurt us, or we hurt someone else, the wounds remain, and the pain continues even after they’ve begun to heal. Sometimes it is impossible to even find the other person again to try and reconcile. Rather than a feeling, it is a question having a firm spiritual resolve and attitude, despite adverse sentiments, to forgive or to make amends whenever possible.

Lent is an apt time for taking stock of whether we need to reconcile with anyone. Our Lord came and suffered the Passion to reconcile us with Our Father and with others. Let’s welcome his mediation in any disputes or feuds we’ve had by working and praying for the grace of truly forgiving and seeking forgiveness from those with whom we’ve been at enmity.

Readings: Ezekiel 18:21–28; Psalm 130:1–8; Matthew 5:20–26. See also 10th Week in Ordinary Time, Thursday.

1st Week of Lent, Thursday

by

Queen Esther in today’s First Reading is working up the courage to face death for the sake of her people after living in the lap of luxury. Her pagan king has issued a decree, due to the selfish machinations of a member of his court, to destroy all the Jews in his realm, and Esther is the only one who can convince the king otherwise. However, she is not allowed to enter the king’s presence under pain of death unless he chooses to summon her. The king may pardon her, but due to the laws and the workings of the court he may just as well have her killed, and then not only will her people die, but she will die as well. The stakes are big not just for her people, but for herself. Therefore it’s understandable that her prayer is filled with angst, but it also reminds us, as Our Lord reminds us today in the Gospel, that the angst in our prayer should not be self-inflicted.

Angst is normal when we are facing something dramatic and the outcome is unclear, but we can suffer a lot of needless angst if we lose sight of the fact that we are asking something from Our Father and not a king in the style of the king Esther is about to risk her life trying to see. In today’s Gospel Our Lord reminds us, just as he did last Tuesday, that God is Our Father. He knows what we need, and he’s not some fickle and cruel despot. A father wants to give good things to his children. Our Father wants to give us good things, all we have to do is ask.

Why at times do we inflict more angst on ourselves? Because we examine our hearts and don’t think we deserve good things or a good Father. Because the deals and promises we try to make in exchange for God’s favors are so big that not even we believe we’ll keep them. Because he’s helped us in the past and we’ve been ungrateful. Because we want to work things out on our own. That’s not a relationship of Father-child; that’s deal brokering with nothing to bring to the table. In short, we know we don’t merit Our Father’s help, yet we need it and can’t offer much in return.

Our Lord tells us in today’s Gospel not to worry. Esther’s prayer was heard; ours will be as well. Ask for what you need with the trust and simplicity of a child.

Readings: Esther C:12, 14–16, 23–25; Psalm 138:1–3, 7c–8; Matthew 7:7–12. See also 27th Week in Ordinary Time, Thursday.