The Gift of Time

Tonight family and friends will gather in homes, reception halls, and the streets of the world’s major cities to ring in the New Year.  As the ball in Time Square drops, millions will start to sing “Auld Lang Syne”, a well-known Scottish song reflecting on times gone by and the importance of companionship.  And tomorrow, millions will start on their New Year’s resolutions.

Have you ever stopped to wonder, why the celebration?  What makes New Year, well, the start of a New Year, and why is that important to us?  We could research the history of how we mark time, how New Year traditions came to be, but I propose it comes down to this: New Year allows us to celebrate the gift of time, to recognize our life on this earth is precious, and we gather together to remember what is truly important.  Deep down, we know we are a people who fall short of what we were created to be, living in a fallen world, and so we see New Year as providing a “clean slate” in time, allowing us a “fresh start”, and we make resolutions that this year will be better than the last.

But as time continues and the New Year loses some of its luster, we fail at our resolutions, we can lose sight of the meaning of true friendship, and, as we seek to exist in our society, we forget to live.  The psalmist tells us that our lives are like the grasses that spring up, then wither and fade.  So, this New Year, I have but one resolution – that I would not forget each moment is a gift, each person a reflection of God and to live in gratitude.  I pray God would grant me the grace to do this, and to get up and start again when I fail.  I hope you all have a blessed and safe New Year!

Holy Innocents

I love being an aunt.  I have five nieces and nephews, ranging in age between five years and three months.  Each time I am with them, I learn something new, whether it’s a test of my knowledge and wits (you get to try and explain all sorts of issues, such as how bears know when winter is over so they can wake up), or a deeper understanding of eternal things revealed by their innocence, humble need for care and assistance, and spontaneous hugs and kisses.  To be sure, like all children, my nieces and nephews are capable of temper tantrums and naughtiness, but they also have an amazing capacity for sacrificial giving, expression of simple truth, and love.  

Today, on the fourth day of Christmas, our joy is mingled with sadness as we remember the Holy Innocents that were massacred by King Herod.  When Herod heard of Jesus’ birth, he viewed Him as a threat and asked the Wise Men to reveal Jesus’ whereabouts so he could “worship” too.  Warned by an angel, the Wise Men did not return to King Herod, but went home a different way.  Realizing what had happen, King Herod was filled with rage and ordered all boys in Bethlehem under the age of two be put to death.  We are told in the Gospel of Matthew that this fulfilled the prophesy by the prophet Jeremiah, “A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation: Rachel weeping for her children, she refused to be consoled because they were no more.” (Matthew 2:18). 

In this event, we are reminded that not everyone welcomed Jesus at His birth.  Jesus was seen as a threat to power, to individual will and desires.  To save His Kingdom, Herod sought to kill the Infant Jesus and innocent babies died in His stead.  In the battle between good and evil, evil seeks to destroy that which is good and too often our children pay the price.  How many of our little ones suffer at the hand of adults as a result of their own fear and selfishness, whether through direct action or, too often, inaction?

Yet we are also reminded of the ultimate triumph of Christ.  Try as he might, Herod was not successful in his attempts to kill Jesus.  St. Augustine called these “infant martyr flowers”, “the Church’s first blossoms, matured by the frost of persecution during the cold winter of unbelief.”  They bore witness to Christ, not with words, but by laying down their lives, though they did not know it. 

Today is a good day to remember the innocents of this age.  Jesus instructs us to bring the little children to Him, that to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.  I cannot help but to think of the three youngest of my nieces and nephews: all three are boys two or younger – had time or circumstances been different, they would have been included in King Herod’s bloody killings.  Yet the young in our world are still at great risk.  They are being slaughtered through abortion and suffer abuse, hunger, and other forms of violence.  Mindful of these issues, let us remember our unborn and our children in prayer and acts of charity: let’s pray over the children in our lives, and teach them well, modeling Christ to them; let’s get involved in the local prolife movement and be advocates in the public square for those who are helpless to speak and act in their defense; volunteer to help pregnant mothers; encourage adoptions.  May we demonstrate the faith we speak by taking action to protect our young.

Rejoice Always?!

I always like halfway marks; they are a sign that one’s work is almost done. They bring a silent pause of their own, like the moment you are sitting at the top of a hill before barreling down the other side. Or the breathtaking landscape that often accompanies a clearing in the trail while hiking.

Yesterday we celebrated the halfway mark in Advent. In the second reading at Mass, we were instructed: “Rejoice in the Lord always.” St. Paul thought this so important, or perhaps he knew what a challenge this would be for us, so he repeats it: “Rejoice!” A few months ago, I was having a conversation with a couple friends – is it really possible to be joyful ALL the time? Even with all the hurts we endure, the evil in the world? Paul seemed to think so.

In the abstract, I completely agree. After all, one only need to read the rest of Philippians 4, and elsewhere in St. Paul’s letters, to see how he lived this. So too, did the saints; in fact, many, like St. Dominic were known for their joy. Actually practicing this “rejoicing always”, however, presents another issue and it doesn’t take long before I am faced with a situation, or attitude, where I feel like the last thing I want to do is rejoice. So how does that work?

Perhaps one clue lies later in the reading: “have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God.” Really? Did he really say “have no anxiety at all?” Not only that, we are to be thankful when we make our requests known to God. Thankful for what we have, thankful for what we don’t, thankful for what may come. Who doesn’t think this is a tough thing to swallow? Yet this is what St. Paul charges us to do.

Lately, I have learned a most excellent tool for learning how to put all this into practice is poverty – that is, recognizing everything we have, no matter how much or little, is a gift from God. If we do not recognize our own poverty, it is difficult, if not impossible to be truly thankful, for then we think that what we have is ours by right. Material poverty is a very tangible way to learn the lessons St. Paul is teaching. No, not all of us are called to live as St. Francis, but there’s nothing like living paycheck to paycheck, being between paying jobs, or loosening the ties we have to materials goods by giving them away and then doing without to correct our priorities and make us thankful for what we have.

And the reward for our giving up anxiety and being thankful is tremendous: “Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” And who doesn’t want that? That is something we can truly rejoice about. At his birth, Jesus demonstrated what a gift it is to be poor and humble in Spirit. Recall, though, how many turned the Holy Family away because they didn’t have room and refused to make accommodation. Advent reminds us that unless we make room in our hearts and minds, we cannot receive this lasting peace because we have no room for the One who brings it.

From the three candles now burning on the Advent wreath, to the rose colored vestments that the Church reserves for but two days a year, the halfway mark of Advent is a bright sign of the hope we have in Christ Jesus – the one who came as an infant and walked among us, who conquered the world with love, not money or power. With thankfulness, may we persevere this Advent in preparing our poor hearts to welcome and receive Him in whom we have reason to rejoice always.

Side note: Two of my favorite books that address poverty and the Christian life, no matter what your vocation, are: “Happy Are the Poor” by Fr. Thomas Dubay and “The Pursuit of Happiness – God’s Way” by Servais Pinckaers, OP.

Why Heresy To Habit?

Why Heresy To Habit?  Because in three simple words, my life’s journey in pursuit of Truth is summarized.  In three simple words, the grace of God is expressed and Jesus’ love is made evident.  In three simple words, it is clearly demonstrated how our ways are not God’s ways and we cannot imagine the plans He has for each one of us.

I started life as an Evangelical with a touch of charismatic.  I treasure my roots in faith, for it was as an Evangelical that I cultivated a love for Scripture, a thirst for Truth and wisdom, and an intimate relatonship with Jesus Christ.  I was passionate and devout in my faith and never imagined I might be Catholic.  In fact, I knew very little about the Catholic Church.  All that changed the year I graduated from law school.  I had grown cool in my devotion and desired to fan the flames in a new faith community in a new town.  In learning more about Protestant doctrine, I began to see inconsistencies and holes.  I began to doubt.  So I prayed.

As always, God faithfully answered my prayer in a most unexpected way: He led me to the Catholic Church.  For the first time, Scripture, all of Scripture, made sense and could be understood as a whole, something that all the Protestant doctrines of the many denominations I had attended couldn’t do.  I went back to the roots of Protestantism and studied the pillars that were erected in the course of the Reformation.  I examined Protestant and Catholic doctrine and teaching.  One by one, the pillars fell and I knew I had to be obedient to where God was leading: I had to be Catholic.

My quest for Truth has led me to another place I never expected to go – religious life.  Specifically, I feel called to enter a community of cloistered Dominican nuns.  Amazingly, the motto of the Dominican Order is “Veritas” – Truth.