Listening for God

When I was teaching in Knoxville, we had a diocesan in-service for teachers reflecting on the three times that God breaks the silence in the New Testament.

During his presentation, the retreat master, Archabbot Lambert Reilly, OSB (who served as the leader of St. Meinrad Seminary from 1994-2004) said that God broke the silence in the New Testament three times. But he arrived late for his presentation and never got to the third occasion in Scripture where the voice of God is heard. Intrigued, I called the seminary, tracked down the Archabbot, and asked him to tell me about the third time. It was the start of a long friendship and I still have my notes from that conversation. For years, I have used that presentation as the jumping off point for a quiz I gave students – challenging them to find the three times in Scripture when God breaks the silence.

To find that elusive third time, we need to look no further than yesterday’s Gospel.

The first time it happens is easy – it is the baptism of our Lord (Matthew 3:13-17) in which not only the Trinity is revealed but also Jesus begins his public ministry to proclaim and make present the reign of God on earth. The Father’s voice in this passage speaks in terms that reflect Is 42:1, Ps 2:7 and Gn 22:2. This God-in-the-flesh is giving us first hand an example of submission to the saving activity of God. “To fulfill all righteousness” is to submit to the plan of God for the salvation of the human race. This involves Jesus’ identification with sinners; hence the propriety of his accepting John’s baptism.

The second time God breaks the silence comes at the Transfiguration (Mk 9:2-8, Lk 9:28-36, Mt 17:1-8) which confirms that Jesus is the Son of God (Mt 17:5) and points to fulfillment of the prediction that he will come “in his Father’s glory” (Mt. 16:27) at the end of the age. The voice that speaks repeats the baptismal proclamation about Jesus, with the addition of the command “listen to him.” The latter is a reference to Dt 18:15 in which the Israelites are commanded to “listen to” the prophets like Moses whom God will raise up for them. The command to “listen to” Jesus is general, but we know that just as Jesus shined white as light in this event, it is only by the light of his resurrection can we truly come to understand the meaning of his life and mission. His own instruction to the apostles to not reveal the details of this extraordinary event to anyone indicates that Jesus knows that until the resurrection, no testimony of this vision will lead people to faith.

The elusive third time that God breaks the silence is in John 12:20-36 as Jesus discusses his own death. He says that “whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there also will my servant be” (Jn 12:26). He continues and after admitting that he is troubled about the future and what he knows it holds for him, asks “what should I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? But it was for this purpose that I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name” (Jn 12:27). In other words, Jesus is saying that even though he is afraid, he also knows that it was for this purpose – to die for each of us – that he was born. In response to his request for his Father to glorify his name, a voice speaks: “I have glorified it and I will glorify it again” (28). The crowds who hear the voice say it was thunder, others say it was an angel. Jesus says the voice is heard so that we may believe that he himself is the light by which we all must live so as to become children of the light (36). We know that Jesus will have – after his suffering – all that he had before and that those who follow him will have what he has promised, namely, eternal life with the Father in heaven.

God becomes man so that we might follow Jesus’ example in our love for each other. Jesus dined with sinners and made the lame walk. He was crucified for our sakes and is made whole again through his resurrection. Those who follow will rise above all darkness that comes from doubt and sin and live only in the light. A light that is God.

It is easy to forget the God still breaks the silence. We struggle to find both God’s voice and the silence. This week, take some time in the stillness of the morning or just before the lights go out to sit in the silence and listen for the voice of God.

Sometime, we must be still to truly hear.

Have a good week.

Cabrini

Do yourself a favor and take the family to see Cabrini.

The filmmakers do a great job of highlighting the plight of the immigrants, especially those from Italy, the corruption and ignorance they must face – from the streets of New York to the leaders of civic and religious organizations – and how Mother Cabrini’s courage and faith changes the world.

Unlike most films about a religious figure, this movie avoids the sappiness and frivolity that can often accompany a story of a hero led solely by their faith. There is no silliness here – only the incredible faith of a woman who knows that she is being called to something great and must constantly work against the cowards in her way.

In the end, it is a film about the dignity of all humans. It is hard to watch the film and not think about how little we have learned in the last 140 years. We still blame immigrants for crimes they do not commit. We still hear our leaders using derogatory names and even slurs to refer to those working hard to feed their families. We still struggle to understand that we are all children of God, whether or not we have the papers to prove that we belong. Mother Cabrini gets angry – and we should be angry too. Angry enough to fight for change, to feed the poor, to clothe the naked, to give drink to the thirsty. That is the really miracle of the movie – you leave wanting to do more, knowing that thoughts and prayers are hardly ever enough.

Go see the film. Listen to Mother. As she says in the film, no man could do what she can. Working together, however, we can change the world.

Trust

Before we decide to trust someone, we often look for credentials or tangible proof that will in turn dictate the extent of our confidence in that person. We want our trust to rest on the foundation of experience. Sunday’s readings look to concrete historical events that provide reasons to trust.

Seven of the Ten Commandments are forms of tribal wisdom aimed at the good of the community (see Jeremiah 35:6-9). As such, they predate Moses. They stem from the recognition that some actions promote community while others are hurtful.

In the commandments, the older regulations are ratified as accepted legislation. The stamp of divine approval makes them matters of loyalty to God. God intervened in history to bring the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt; therefore, God has a right to impose laws worthy of trust.

In dealing with the Corinthian community, Paul has to face the issues of credibility and trust. The Greeks desire some form of revelation that they can debate as worthy of rational acceptance. The Jews seek some sign or miracle that will provide a basis for confidence. Paul offers the cross, which for him is so central to faith that the gospel message is unintelligible without it.

In the cleansing of the Temple, Jesus appears as a latter-day Jeremiah who addresses the abuses of God’s dwelling place (see Jeremiah 7:1-15;26:1-19). The author of the gospel has adapted the original event to speak about the foundation of trust. Jesus’ zeal for the Temple is the reason for his death, and his resurrected body becomes the new Temple. The demand for a sign is answered by Jesus’ passion, death, and resurrection experience.

Do we choose to imitate Jesus’ self-giving and thereby offer concrete proof of our trustworthiness?

We win loyalty by reaching out to others and meeting their needs, not by demanding unconditional confidence.

Just something to think about.

Judge Not

This morning’s Gospel reading is a tough one. At least for me.

“Stop judging and you will not be judged.
Stop condemning and you will not be condemned.
Forgive and you will be forgiven.
Give and gifts will be given to you;
a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing,
will be poured into your lap.
For the measure with which you measure
will in return be measured out to you.”

Essentially, it’s a Gospel warning that what goes around comes around and we would be well advised to follow the writer’s advice.

But judging others is easy. It’s fun to deflect the attention from ourselves and our own inadequacies and point out the foibles of others. It’s nice to get people to focus on the looks, sounds, and smells around us, so no one notices the rot coming from within. Most of us, including me, would rather people not notice how far behind I am, how spiritually starved I am, how disconnected I sometimes feel – and instead point out the ills around us, the dumb things other people say, the inarticulate nature of those we do not agree with, and the crazy things that people who do not agree with us proclaim.

Stop judging.

God give us the strength to try.

Bring On Lent

As we move into Lent, let us remember the challenge of St. Benedict: He calls us to devote ourselves to prayer. He also tells us to add to the usual measure of our serving something by way of private prayer.

To pray is to stand like Moses before the burning bush,
to strip ourselves of all that binds us,
to awaken and experience all things as fresh and new,
to recognize that we are standing on holy ground
and God is present before us and within us.

That sounds nice, but how do we prepare for Lent? Benedict tells us that too:

By refusing to indulge evil habits
By devoting ourselves to prayer
By devoting ourselves to reading
To compunction of heart and self-denial
To abstain from food or drink.
To avoid needless talking…. so more silence.

As we move into Lent, let us take a few moments to slow down and give more time to prayer. Let us try to live in a state of continuous prayer. Let us live the healthier life that we always talk about and show mercy to others – mercy that will be coming from a pure place of prayer and union with God.

Some would say that it is not possible to live in a state of continuous prayer. Let’s try anyway.

Rolling In The Deep

I usually only find myself on YouTube for recipes (or “the YouTube as I refer to it just to irritate the kids). Even then, I don’t often follow the recipe. But a few months ago, someone shared the video of Adele singing, “Rolling in the Deep” and I simply cannot stop watching – mostly because Emma Thompson, another favorite, is so memorable in her excitement.

A few years ago, Adele hosted an ITV special in England and invited all the important people and, I assume, the general public. We were just coming out of Covid and, if memory serves, Adele felt it was important to gather and celebrate life. There are many memorable. moments, including Emma Thompson re-introducing the singer to a teacher who meant so much to Adele in her youth.

Then comes the song. Here is what struck me about the song – I like the lyrics, I like the tune, but watch the audience. Keep an eye out for Emma Thompson telling everyone to “get up and dance.” Watch the likes of Boy George, Emma Watson, Samuel L. Jackson, and others dancing with pure abandon. There are no cell phones (which were presumably prohibited). There is no one taking video, except the guy creating the video. There is only joy in the moment. Everyone is present. Dancing. Singing. Unadulterated happiness.

We need more of that.

Watch the video and enjoy your week. If you really want to have fun, learn the words and sing the song in front of your kids and their friends.

I Blame The Phone

Kids are simultaneously really smart and really dumb. I blame technology and the constant need to have the phone in the hand.

Case in point: my oldest is a freshman in college. By all accounts, she is a smart kid, gets good grades, and is doing well socially and emotionally.

Last week, I dropped her off at the train station to head down the tracks a few towns to school. Since I had a meeting, I dropped her off early with the plans to get to school early and hang out on campus.

Instead, she got on the wrong train and ended up in Harlem.

The conductor took pity on her, gave her a new ticket, and sent her north towards school.

She got on another wrong train and ended up at Fordham. Good school, but not the right school.

Finally, she made it to class – on time as luck would have it – and settled in for the day.

On the one hand, I was incredible proud of her for keeping it together, managing one train after another, and getting to school. A lesser child would have given up, called for a ride, and skipped the class.

Technology puts the world in our hands. It also distracts us from the world around us. Headphones shut out the noise, but also the voice of mom or dad or really anyone else who is trying to get your attention. We rely on technology to tell us where to go, but surrender our own sense of direction in the process. I can see where I am going, but I still defer to the voice in the computer that tells me to turn left. I know it’s wrong. I see it’s wrong. I do it anyway.

I suppose I am a little dumb too.

This week, I will invite my children to put the phone down, listen to one another, and enjoy the world around. I guess I will have to take my own advice as well.

Hmmmm… Let’s think about this.

How Do You Not Understand?

We celebrate a few great feasts this week. Today is the day for prayer for the legal protection of the unborn. Wednesday is the feast of St. Francis de Sales, Bishop and Doctor of the Church. Thursday is the Conversion of St. Paul and Friday is the Memorial of Saints Timothy and Titus, who were bishops in the early Church. Lots of great teachable moments.

Plus, we have some great readings this week. I especially love when Jesus takes the time to explain the parables he’s just taught the crowds. Like any good teacher, he wants to make sure the lesson does not fall on deaf ears and, like anyone who has ever stood in front a classroom, my hunch is he began to see people’s eyes glazing over, people looking off in the distance, and a general disconnect starting to form.

So he paused, rearranged the narrative, and made sure everyone understood.

If you have teenagers, you have lots of practice with this. You ask your teen to do something, retrieve something, go somewhere and complete a task – and you are confident you are speaking in a language he or she understands. But as soon as the instructions are delivered, your teen looks at you and says, with a completely straight face: “What?”

They heard it all but they comprehended nothing.

So you repeat it. You tell them to put the phone away and really listen this time.

“Okay,” says the teen.

Then they walk away and do absolutely nothing.

The more I reflect on Mark 4 from Wednesday’s Gospel, the more I am thinking this was Jesus’ turn with the teens in Jerusalem.

“What?” they said after he taught them.

Jesus said to them, “Do you not understand this parable? Then how will you understand any of the parables?”

Great question.

It turns out in two thousand years, the content hasn’t changed, only the context.

This week, I will practice the patience of Jesus and avoid gritting my teeth as I explain to my four teenagers the same thing over and over and over.

What Love Can Do

A reflection for today:

Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that.

Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.

There is plenty of darkness in the world today. There is already enough hate.

In the spirit of Martin Luther King, may we strive to be people of light and love.

May our presence make the world just a little bit better for those around us.

Have a good week.

Share the Light

Believers are first and foremost recipients of the light who are challenged to penetrate darkness. Sunday’s readings understand community members as the bearers of gifts to others. To share one’s gift is to overcome the darkness and usher in the light.

During the gloomy days after the exile, the prophet we call Third Isaiah sought to energize his Judean community. In this world of despair the one point of light is Jerusalem because God’s presence illuminates it. The intensity of this light attracts foreign nations. They not only see God’s glory but become Yahweh’s missionaries carrying the message to distant peoples, opening up the treasures of Israel’s faith to others.

The author of Ephesians speaks of Paul as a steward who was entrusted with God’s great plan for all of humanity. The Gentiles have received the Spirit and are partners with Israel in the covenant responses. As a steward, Paul is compelled to share this divine insight with others.

Matthew writes at a critical moment in the life of the community. Many Gentiles were entering the community, but many Jews were leaving (see Matthew 21:42-43). Matthew tells the story of the astrologers in order to show that the admission of the Gentiles is part of God’s plan. The pagan astrologers are the first to come and pay homage to the newborn King of the Jews. The Jewish leadership rejects this king. The story eases community tensions.

The celebration of Epiphany demands that the Christian raise the question: Who experiences darkness and needs light? Instead of formulating a grandiose scheme to evangelize the atheists, the modern believer is well advised to search closer to home. If there are members of the family who suffer economic hardship, light takes the form of financial and emotional support. If there are people at work who suffer from chemical dependency, light takes the shape of encouragement to seek professional help. If there are persons in our faith community who have doubts, light takes the appearance of sharing their pain and attempting to aid them through the crisis. In these and similar situations the message of Epiphany is clear: Share the light.