A new commandment I give unto
you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love
one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye
have love one to another.
John 13:34, 35
To me, this is the bottom line of Christianity: love one another. If we won't do that, we're just Pharisees taking the easy way out.
Easy? With all those laws and dogmatic rules?
Jesus tells us to love others as we love ourselves, to go the extra mile, to share what we have with the poor, to forgive those who hurt us. Jesus tells us to care for those we might prefer to ignore, to welcome those we want to turn away, to embrace those we wish to reject.
Yes, I think it's a lot easier to follow rules than to follow Jesus's law of love. Being Christian is not for sissies!
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Friday, January 11, 2013
Abundant Life
To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’
“But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’
“I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
Luke 18:9-14
Now that I'm able to get into the blog, my task is to get back into the habit of writing. Patience appreciated!
This morning during my reading, the Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector leapt out at me. Anyone reading the news is aware that there are a lot of Pharisees out there, religious leaders ready to proclaim that only they have the correct teachings, that everyone else is somehow not Christian at all.
What struck me about this familiar parable was the description of the Pharisee as someone confident of his own righteousness and who looked down on everyone else. Although the Pharisee fasted and tithed and obeyed the laws - it was not enough. And although it is not mentioned in the text, I am struck by the degree of judgment displayed by the Pharisee.
We talk about humility in the church, and many of those Pharisees out there are quick to say they are sinners. I wonder, though, if in so doing they are simply complying with the letter of the law, so to speak. What strikes me is that pride and judgment go hand in hand.
It's hard not to judge, as we are called to judge constantly in life. We must judge whether a teacher's words are in keeping with what we understand to be the teachings of Christ; we are called to do that by Jesus himself.
It seems to me that the key is Love. The Pharisee's problem was that he regarded others through eyes of condemnation, not eyes of love. We MUST reject teachings that are incompatible with Love, teachings that do not place love above the law, as Christ did. In so doing, though, we must be on guard against our human tendency to reject those who follow such teachings.
That's that hard part, isn't it!
Friday, January 4, 2013
Whew!
And when she has found it, she calls her friends and neighbors together, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the piece which I lost!’ Luke 15:9
Readers may remember this verse from the parable of the Lost Coin. It's appropriate! After I wrote last, I had another bout of ill health, and when I was feeling better, tried to log on - and couldn't! Weeks of searching the same files, the same notebooks followed - to no avail. Finally, today - I have it, and so we begin again.
The weeks of inability to post have been interesting. I've missed writing, even though I have no idea that anyone is actually reading this. I trust that whoever can be blessed by it will find it at the proper time. That part of it is out of my hands, and that's ok by me.
The repeated searches have prompted me to begin what I've long been meaning to do: organize. Organization comes naturally to many people; clearly, I am not one of them. Finding ways to organize my materials and information more effectively has been challenging, not that I've completed the task. If I made New Year's resolutions, this would be a good one.
The verse I chose for today was a bit tongue-in-cheek, given my long predicament, but not entirely so. The idea of lost and found is both familiar and profound. We often claim to have lost things, though usually we've only mislaid them. I sometimes wonder if anything is really 'lost.'
We take a wrong turn when traveling and get lost; yet we eventually get to our destination. Our loved ones pass on, losing their lives so to speak - only they live on in spirit in a life far more joyful and glorious than earthly life could hope to be. We lose our faith - or so we think.
I am not so sure that anyone loses their faith. I know people who discount faith, preferring the theories of science to those of theology. I know people who have faltered in their faith, rendered doubtful by the enormity of their pain. I know people who reject faith, angered by the injustices they observe around them - injustices a loving God would not allow, they reason.
But lose faith? Does anyone wake up one day simply to realize that - the faith of yesterday has left? I doubt that. In my experience, faith never deserts us. We may look the other way, we may mislay it in unrelated events and circumstances, we may furiously cast it aside - but those are very different situations. Faith doesn't evaporate. Like God, it is with us always. We have only to recognize it, then, like the widow, we too may rejoice.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
The Dirtiest Word, Part Five
“Come now, let us settle the matter,”
says the Lord.
“Though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red as crimson,
they shall be like wool. Isaiah 1:18
In the Community Catholic Church, reconciliation is joyful, whether it takes place in the context of the Eucharist or Mass, or whether it is received as a sacrament in its own right.
During the Mass, we invite those present to consider their sins and to express their contrition in prayer. The entrance rites include a confession and absolution of sin. For some people, this confession serves their need for forgiveness.
Sometimes, people need or want a more personal experience of forgiveness. In that case, they can request the sacrament of reconciliation, often before a regular Mass or by appointment. In the sacrament, after a brief prayer or scripture, the penitent will confess their sin and receive absolution through the words of the priest. Normally, this is followed by a brief reassurance of God's love and the penitent's own goodness and worthiness. It is a very affirming experience, as it should be. After all, we are God's own children, cherished and loved more than we could ever imagine.
It is the job of the church to share this good news with everyone, that God loves us always and forever, that we are all one family united by this love. Anytime the words or sacraments of the church leave us feeling anything less, there's a problem in the church.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
The Dirtiest Word, Part Four
(Continuing the series begun Nov. 1)
Why would anyone in their right mind want to seek out a Catholic priest to receive the sacrament of reconciliation when we already know that God always forgives us when we ask?
One reason is that the sacrament is scriptural, given to us by Christ Himself. In John 20, we read the story of Jesus's resurrection from the dead. He appears to Mary and later that day joins the apostles where they had gathered together.
Another reason is that we're human and forgiveness is a major issue in our lives. Forgiving other humans who hurt us is hard. We have trouble accepting the forgiveness of those we hurt, too, sometimes asking more than once for forgiveness for a single offense. Most of all, we have trouble forgiving ourselves, experiencing guilty feelings to a sometimes-crippling degree. We punish others, and we punish ourselves. We hang onto old hurts, wondering if remembering them means we haven't forgiven them.
When we deal with God, a lot of these human struggles with forgiveness come into play. We may wonder whether we're truly sorry or just going through the motions. We may question whether the degree of contrition we feel is sufficient to gain God's forgiveness. We may even examine the circumstances of our lives, searching for a sign of God's forgiveness. It can be difficult to trust that our prayer 'worked.'
The sacrament of reconciliation relieves those doubts. We have Jesus's word for it.
Finally, the sacrament is a joyful experience of God's never-failing love. Yes, joyful! How can reunion with God be anything but sweet? The sacrament of reconciliation brings not only forgiveness but freedom. It is truly a joyful and happy experience to receive God's forgiveness through the sacrament of reconciliation.
So what's the problem? The problem is that so many of us have been hurt in the sacrament of reconciliation. Instead of finding release from the burden of sin and joyful reunion with our loving Father, many Catholics have entered the confessional and experienced the priest's version of that rigid, angry God-Judge-and-Jury. Instead of receiving a joyful assurance of forgiveness, they hear the words of absolution being spoken much like an angry father saying, "Well, ok this time - but I've got my eye on you!"
A priest who gives absolution in a disapproving manner does not mirror God's love effectively. The penitent may be forgiven, but the joy has been drained from the experience. The penitent may leave feeling unworthy, retaining feelings of guilt instead of the sublime freedom the sacrament is meant to offer. They are indeed forgiven, but they may not be able to accept it if the confessor's own attitude taints the sacrament.
Such confessions have driven many Catholics from not only the sacrament but the Church. It is a tragedy that a sacrament meant to bring us into union with God would prove to be a stumbling block for so many.
Tune in tomorrow as we conclude this series.
Why would anyone in their right mind want to seek out a Catholic priest to receive the sacrament of reconciliation when we already know that God always forgives us when we ask?
One reason is that the sacrament is scriptural, given to us by Christ Himself. In John 20, we read the story of Jesus's resurrection from the dead. He appears to Mary and later that day joins the apostles where they had gathered together.
With these words, Jesus commissioned the apostles, a commission passed through the Apostolic Succession to the ordained priests of the Catholic churches.Now when it was late that same day, the first of the week, and the doors were shut, where the disciples were gathered together, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in the midst, and said to them: Peace be to you.And when he had said this, he shewed them his hands and his side. The disciples therefore were glad, when they saw the Lord.He said therefore to them again: Peace be to you. As the Father hath sent me, I also send you.When he had said this, he breathed on them; and he said to them: Receive ye the Holy Ghost.Whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose sins you shall retain, they are retained. John 20: 19-23
Another reason is that we're human and forgiveness is a major issue in our lives. Forgiving other humans who hurt us is hard. We have trouble accepting the forgiveness of those we hurt, too, sometimes asking more than once for forgiveness for a single offense. Most of all, we have trouble forgiving ourselves, experiencing guilty feelings to a sometimes-crippling degree. We punish others, and we punish ourselves. We hang onto old hurts, wondering if remembering them means we haven't forgiven them.
When we deal with God, a lot of these human struggles with forgiveness come into play. We may wonder whether we're truly sorry or just going through the motions. We may question whether the degree of contrition we feel is sufficient to gain God's forgiveness. We may even examine the circumstances of our lives, searching for a sign of God's forgiveness. It can be difficult to trust that our prayer 'worked.'
The sacrament of reconciliation relieves those doubts. We have Jesus's word for it.
Finally, the sacrament is a joyful experience of God's never-failing love. Yes, joyful! How can reunion with God be anything but sweet? The sacrament of reconciliation brings not only forgiveness but freedom. It is truly a joyful and happy experience to receive God's forgiveness through the sacrament of reconciliation.
So what's the problem? The problem is that so many of us have been hurt in the sacrament of reconciliation. Instead of finding release from the burden of sin and joyful reunion with our loving Father, many Catholics have entered the confessional and experienced the priest's version of that rigid, angry God-Judge-and-Jury. Instead of receiving a joyful assurance of forgiveness, they hear the words of absolution being spoken much like an angry father saying, "Well, ok this time - but I've got my eye on you!"
A priest who gives absolution in a disapproving manner does not mirror God's love effectively. The penitent may be forgiven, but the joy has been drained from the experience. The penitent may leave feeling unworthy, retaining feelings of guilt instead of the sublime freedom the sacrament is meant to offer. They are indeed forgiven, but they may not be able to accept it if the confessor's own attitude taints the sacrament.
Such confessions have driven many Catholics from not only the sacrament but the Church. It is a tragedy that a sacrament meant to bring us into union with God would prove to be a stumbling block for so many.
Tune in tomorrow as we conclude this series.
Monday, November 5, 2012
The Dirtiest Word, Part Three
(continuing the series begun Nov. 1)
What shall we do about the fact of sin?
Well, first, we admit that we have fallen short. We recognize those behaviors, words, and thoughts that have been unloving. We recognize that our indulgence in them has put us out of alignment with God - not because God has turned from us when we sin but because we have turned from Love. After we recognize our sin, we have a choice. We can make excuses and attempt to rationalize it; this rarely has the effect of re-aligning us with God's love.
Or we can reject sin and choose re-alignment with God's love. We repent and ask God's forgiveness.
In the past, penance was a means of demonstrating repentance. This may bring to mind a variety of unsavory practices like torn garments, sackcloth and ashes, self-flagellation, and an assortment of uncomfortable practices and perspectives. In our understanding, while such things have meaning for others, they are unnecessary in our effort to turn from sin and find forgiveness.
In the Roman Catholic church, the first step toward receiving forgiveness was to confess one's sins to a priest, who would then extend God's forgiveness to the penitent (John 20:23). Unfortunately, many of the old practices and perspectives of repentance have been and still are influencing that sacrament.
As a lifelong Catholic, I have received the sacrament of reconciliation, as it is now known in the church, probably hundreds of times. Some confessors ministered the discipline of the church, with harsh admonitions to honor my parents, to tell the truth, to keep from anger, or whatever I happened to confess that week. They scolded me, then gave me my penance, which was normally the recitation of prayers for some intention, perhaps for the Holy Father or the hungry or the sick. In later years, after Vatican II, the penance was often to commit some good work.
In addition, some confessors were better able to set their human personality aside in the confessional box, the better to minister God's everlasting forgiveness and love. A priest who had been lied to all his life may get a little venting in before saying the words of forgiveness. A priest whose parents had divorced might speak quite severely to a penitent who confessed an extramarital affair. One who struggled with celibacy might be very hard on a young boy who struggled with impure thoughts or masturbation. I do not say this to condemn such priests; I suspect they felt that it was God directing them to speak so sternly. We are all human, and priests are no exception.
It is unfortunate, though, since in our understanding of the nature of God's love, the confession of even the most horrendous of sins would find a loving understanding and full forgiveness. Like the Prodigal Son, we may approach the sacrament with our heads low in sorrow, but God meets us there in a joyful embrace filled with delight at re-established union.
In some churches, the practice is simply to ask in prayer for forgiveness. When we are genuinely sorry, God forgives us. Always.
In our church, we offer the sacrament of reconciliation, or confession, for those who desire it. Why would anyone in their right mind want to go to confession? Tune in tomorrow.
What shall we do about the fact of sin?
Well, first, we admit that we have fallen short. We recognize those behaviors, words, and thoughts that have been unloving. We recognize that our indulgence in them has put us out of alignment with God - not because God has turned from us when we sin but because we have turned from Love. After we recognize our sin, we have a choice. We can make excuses and attempt to rationalize it; this rarely has the effect of re-aligning us with God's love.
Or we can reject sin and choose re-alignment with God's love. We repent and ask God's forgiveness.
In the past, penance was a means of demonstrating repentance. This may bring to mind a variety of unsavory practices like torn garments, sackcloth and ashes, self-flagellation, and an assortment of uncomfortable practices and perspectives. In our understanding, while such things have meaning for others, they are unnecessary in our effort to turn from sin and find forgiveness.
In the Roman Catholic church, the first step toward receiving forgiveness was to confess one's sins to a priest, who would then extend God's forgiveness to the penitent (John 20:23). Unfortunately, many of the old practices and perspectives of repentance have been and still are influencing that sacrament.
As a lifelong Catholic, I have received the sacrament of reconciliation, as it is now known in the church, probably hundreds of times. Some confessors ministered the discipline of the church, with harsh admonitions to honor my parents, to tell the truth, to keep from anger, or whatever I happened to confess that week. They scolded me, then gave me my penance, which was normally the recitation of prayers for some intention, perhaps for the Holy Father or the hungry or the sick. In later years, after Vatican II, the penance was often to commit some good work.
In addition, some confessors were better able to set their human personality aside in the confessional box, the better to minister God's everlasting forgiveness and love. A priest who had been lied to all his life may get a little venting in before saying the words of forgiveness. A priest whose parents had divorced might speak quite severely to a penitent who confessed an extramarital affair. One who struggled with celibacy might be very hard on a young boy who struggled with impure thoughts or masturbation. I do not say this to condemn such priests; I suspect they felt that it was God directing them to speak so sternly. We are all human, and priests are no exception.
It is unfortunate, though, since in our understanding of the nature of God's love, the confession of even the most horrendous of sins would find a loving understanding and full forgiveness. Like the Prodigal Son, we may approach the sacrament with our heads low in sorrow, but God meets us there in a joyful embrace filled with delight at re-established union.
In some churches, the practice is simply to ask in prayer for forgiveness. When we are genuinely sorry, God forgives us. Always.
In our church, we offer the sacrament of reconciliation, or confession, for those who desire it. Why would anyone in their right mind want to go to confession? Tune in tomorrow.
Friday, November 2, 2012
The Dirtiest Word, Part Two
(Continued from Nov. 1)
You probably know someone whose anger with God is so great that even the word 'God' offends them. So great is the hurt inflicted by a church that dismisses our suffering as pleasing to some great rigid God-Judge whose anger must be continually appeased through punishment or even eternal condemnation.
This idea does not resonate with us as a true depiction of Loving Creator. If God loves us, then it stands to reason that God's love is deeper and purer than ours, tainted as it is by our own self-interest. That being the case, we matter to Loving Creator not as fellow sufferers with Christ but as fellow children of God. Rather than lowly, unworthy beings, we are beloved children.
Even beloved children can sin, however. We are, after all, beloved human children subject to the tug of our understandings, emotions, and desires. The various pains of human life are hard to ignore, as well, and all these aspects of our humanity drive us to words and actions that are unloving at times, actions that are unworthy of us as Children of God.
Occasionally, we find ourselves in situations so painful that we forget our true identity as God's own. We may respond to such troubling circumstances with actual malice and perhaps even anger to the point of hatred. Our hurt may be so intense that, having moved from alignment with Love, we find relief only in unloving, hurtful behavior.
We may say harsh things that wound others. We may take what is not ours. We may refuse to admit the truth or tell deliberate untruths. We may brood over our hurt and grow sullen and bitter and become sour on life. Perhaps we direct our unhappiness toward Creator, rejecting God who has not answered a prayer or transformed a situation to our satisfaction.
In short, these human responses so unlike Love are what we call sin. They do not make us horrible beings worthy only of death; they are reflections of our humanity in action. We can call them lessons or mistakes, if the word 'sin' is so abhorrent to us, but that does not change the truth that sin exists.
So if sin exists, what do we do about it?
You probably know someone whose anger with God is so great that even the word 'God' offends them. So great is the hurt inflicted by a church that dismisses our suffering as pleasing to some great rigid God-Judge whose anger must be continually appeased through punishment or even eternal condemnation.
This idea does not resonate with us as a true depiction of Loving Creator. If God loves us, then it stands to reason that God's love is deeper and purer than ours, tainted as it is by our own self-interest. That being the case, we matter to Loving Creator not as fellow sufferers with Christ but as fellow children of God. Rather than lowly, unworthy beings, we are beloved children.
Even beloved children can sin, however. We are, after all, beloved human children subject to the tug of our understandings, emotions, and desires. The various pains of human life are hard to ignore, as well, and all these aspects of our humanity drive us to words and actions that are unloving at times, actions that are unworthy of us as Children of God.
Occasionally, we find ourselves in situations so painful that we forget our true identity as God's own. We may respond to such troubling circumstances with actual malice and perhaps even anger to the point of hatred. Our hurt may be so intense that, having moved from alignment with Love, we find relief only in unloving, hurtful behavior.
We may say harsh things that wound others. We may take what is not ours. We may refuse to admit the truth or tell deliberate untruths. We may brood over our hurt and grow sullen and bitter and become sour on life. Perhaps we direct our unhappiness toward Creator, rejecting God who has not answered a prayer or transformed a situation to our satisfaction.
In short, these human responses so unlike Love are what we call sin. They do not make us horrible beings worthy only of death; they are reflections of our humanity in action. We can call them lessons or mistakes, if the word 'sin' is so abhorrent to us, but that does not change the truth that sin exists.
So if sin exists, what do we do about it?
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