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momentsbeforemass · 18 hours
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How can you tell?
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When you read the Bible, you’re going to run into a lot of ideas about it.
Some of them are helpful. Some of them are just weird. Some of them are anything but helpful.
Some of the most harmful? The ones that boil down to making the Bible say what you want it to.
Sadly, no one has a monopoly on abusing the Bible this way. The people who do it come from every political and theological corner you can think of.
One of the worst? Picking and choosing what parts of the Bible to read literally (this happened, here’s what God said, etc.) and what parts to read as allegory or myth (a story is being told to make a point, a legend that reveals something about God, etc.).
Not that we shouldn’t do that. We should read the literal stuff as literal and the allegories as allegory. It’s just that some of the ideas about how to do that are so easily abused.
And easily used to abuse.
So how can you tell?
It’s easier than you think. You don’t need a degree in literature or theology.
Because you’re already doing it. Here’s what I mean:
“A sower went out to so some seed. And as he sowed, some of the seed fell on…”
Right. Before Jesus unpacks it, you know that this one is an allegory. It has that “once upon a time” feel to it.
But even if the farmer was an actual person, that’s not why Jesus is telling the story.
Jesus is not critiquing first century agricultural practices. Jesus is using the story to make a point. And we all know it.
Today’s Gospel is the bread of life discourse, where Jesus tells people that He is the bread of life. And then goes on to explain exactly what He means.
There are a lot of people who want this to be an allegory. For a lot of reasons.
It’s not.
How can I say that? How can you tell that Jesus is being literal about this one?
The reactions it gets. And way the way Jesus responds to those reactions.
The first time Jesus announces that He is the bread of life, no one who heard it understood it as an allegory.
How do I know this? Their reaction – “How can this man give us his Flesh to eat?”  
Making it clear that they have it right, that this is no metaphor, Jesus doesn’t explain the symbolism (like He does with the parable of the sower).
Instead (in tomorrow’s Gospel), Jesus doubles down on what He said, on what they’re hanging up on. “Unless you eat the Flesh of the Son of Man and drink his Blood, you do not have life within you.”
Making it clear that they understood Jesus to be speaking literally?
The way that people respond to Jesus doubling down - many of them quit following Jesus and leave.
That’s not how people respond to an allegory. Nobody leaves after Jesus explains the parable of the sower.
If you ever wondered why Catholics are so hung up on the Eucharist? Why we believe what we believe?
This is what’s behind it.
We’re just taking Jesus at His word. And then trying to live it.
That’s the formula for everything that’s right about our Faith. And something we cannot do enough.
Today’s Readings
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momentsbeforemass · 2 days
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God or…
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There are basically two ways to deal with God.
In our relationship with God, we can follow the direction that Jesus gives us in today’s Gospel. When He says (quoting Isaiah), “They shall all be taught by God.” Or we can do the teaching ourselves.
That is, we can either open our hearts and our minds to God. And let God teach us who He is.
Or we can teach God who He is.
Our relationship with God will be radically different, depending on who we let do the teaching.
If you and I do the teaching about God, we will soon find that we have made something to suit our own preferences. Whether it’s something that we’re comfortable with.
Or something that we’re comfortable ignoring.
We’ll make it work for a while. But in time, we’ll find ourselves further and further from anything real. Further and further from anything that will ever satisfy the hole in our hearts.
If we let God do the teaching, we’ll find ourselves drawing closer and closer to the source of reality itself.
If we persist, if keep letting God do the teaching, then we will find a peace and joy that can only come from satisfying our hearts by filling them with the very thing that they were meant to be filled with.
“The only One who can truly satisfy the human heart is the One who made it.”
Today’s Readings
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momentsbeforemass · 3 days
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Angry
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Have you ever known someone who was angry with everyone and everything, including God?
That anger can come from a lot of different places.
Sometimes it comes from loss.
Sometimes it comes from failure.
Sometimes it comes from fear.
Wherever it comes from, that anger is a sign.
It’s the sign of someone who has been hurt by people or by life. Maybe even by themselves.
That anger is also a response.
They’re trying to deal with something that wounded them at the deepest level.
They’re trying to protect themselves from ever being hurt that way again.
They’re lashing out. Often at those who had nothing to do with hurting them. Including God.
So how do we deal with those people?
The same way that God does. It’s what Jesus is showing us in today’s Gospel.
We deal with those people who are lost in their anger by not rejecting them.
This is not a passive thing. It’s more than sitting there, not doing…whatever to them.
This is an intentional, deliberate, aggressive refusal to reject them. An active, in-your-face love. A holy love.
It’s the love that God pours out without measure into our hearts. And theirs.
It’s the only thing that will ever work.
Only God’s love can deal with that kind of anger.
Only God’s love can heal that kind of hurt.
Today’s Readings
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momentsbeforemass · 4 days
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God listens to you
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There are times when the Bible shows us the heart of God. Today’s Gospel is one of them.
When the crowd asks Jesus, “What sign can you do, that we may see and believe in you?” Their words are laced with vanity, with cynicism.
They’re not like the father who’s desperate to have his son healed. Who cries out to Jesus, “Lord, I believe – help my unbelief!”
What they’re really saying is, “Impress me. Entertain me.”
So where the do we see the heart of God in this? We see it with how Jesus responds.
Jesus isn’t distracted by their vanity. Or their cynicism.
Jesus doesn’t tell them to come back with an honest request, when they have the courage to actually say what they mean.
Instead, Jesus hears the desperate need that they’re hiding behind that veneer of vanity and cynicism. He hears what they are afraid to actually say.
Jesus hears their fear of what other people will think. He hears their fear of disappointment – of having someone fail them or betray them. Again.
Jesus responds not to their words, but to their needs. To the hidden, heartfelt plea that they’re afraid to even put into words.
This is the heart of God.
God loves us so much that He gives us what we need, not what we say we want.
God doesn’t turn us away because of our prayers, or how we pray, or our attitude, or what we ask for.
God loves you so much that He doesn’t listen to what you say. God listens to you.
God sees through all of the externals, even in our prayers, to answer not what we asked for, but to answer our needs. To answer us.
God understands our prayers better than we do.
Today’s Readings
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momentsbeforemass · 5 days
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I’ll do it with you.
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“I’ll do it with you” is one of those statements that hits us where we live. Second only to “I love you.”
When it’s said by someone who means it and who follows through? Well, you and I both have a short list of those people in our lives. We rely on them. We trust them.
But it’s more than that.
When someone says, “I’ll do it with you.” And they mean it. When they follow through by shouldering one of life’s burdens with you, it creates a bond. A connection. One that goes well beyond the moment in which that bond was formed.
And one that changes us. It gives a sense of relief, a calm, a peace.
When we’re facing down the hard stuff in life. And someone we know we can rely on says, “I’ll do it with you.”
We treasure the people in our lives who say that, and do that, for us.
And yet, somehow you and miss it when it gets said by the One who has meant it from all eternity. The One who followed through to the point of laying down His life for us.
It’s the point of today’s Gospel. And something that you and I can never forget.
That no matter what’s happening in your life. No matter how far you think you’ve strayed. No matter what you’re going through.
God is saying to you, “I’ll do it with you.”
Today’s Readings
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momentsbeforemass · 8 days
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Snails
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(by request)
“I don’t understand it.”
It’s something all of us say. In a thousand different ways.
Maybe with an honest question. Admitting we don’t know? That’s the first step in learning.
Too often though, we’re afraid of admitting we don’t know. We’re uncomfortable with the humility that an honest question requires.
And instead of the honest question, we still reveal that we don’t understand. But we do it in ways that keep us from understanding.
Maybe we make baseless assumptions about something. Or simplify it to the point of error. Or give up trying to understand it.
Or brand it as impossible. Like Philip in today’s Gospel. With the feeding of the 5,000.
Thank God (literally) that our lack of understanding has zero impact on the things that you and I don’t understand.
I’ve always been amazed at snails, at the way they move. How they do it without any feet or legs. I can’t explain it.
Yet somehow, they do. My lack of understanding has never stopped a single snail from going wherever it wanted to go.
Only it’s not just true for snails. It’s true for all of God’s creation. And for God.
A lack of understanding on my part (or on anyone else’s part) has never held God back.
Philip’s lack of understanding of how 5,000 people could be fed with only 5 loaves and 2 fish didn’t hold God back.
God provided. Even though Philip never did see how it could happen.
The same is true for all of the unknowns that you and I are facing. We may not understand it all. And that’s okay.
We don’t have to have it all figured out. We just need to know the One who does.
Because our lack of understanding of how it’s all going to work out won’t hold God back.
God provides. Even if we don’t see how it could happen.
Today’s Readings
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momentsbeforemass · 9 days
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Where are you from?
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Where are you from?
It’s something we all want to know. Especially when we meet someone for the first time. Because knowing their frame of reference helps us to understand what they say and do.
There’s more to “where are you from” than just geography. It’s about the culture of a place.
The most important place, culture-wise? The culture that has the most impact on someone, even more than the culture that they’re from?
Is the culture that lives inside of them, their personal culture.
Their personal culture doesn’t just help you understand their frame of reference. Because of the way that it informs their understanding of things, and forms the way they respond to things, their personal culture tells you who they really are.
How can you tell what someone’s personal culture is? That’s what today’s Gospel is all about, when Jesus says,
“The one who is of the earth is earthly and speaks of earthly things…the one whom God sent speaks the words of God.”
That’s how you can spot it, especially in yourself.
If you’ve ever wondered about your internal culture (and you and I should, because tainting it is one of the most subtle tools the Enemy has to put distance between us and God), about what’s informing your understanding of things, about what’s forming the way you respond to things, here’s how to do it.
Listen to what you’re speaking about. Not the topics. Listen deeper, to the perspective that reveals what we’re really speaking about.
Are you and I speaking the words of God about things? Or are we speaking an earthly perspective?
If we’re angry? If we’re lashing out (no matter how “deserved” it might be)? If we’re owning…whoever? If we’re demeaning or excluding someone? If we’re railing against “them” and how wrong they are?
It means we’re speaking an earthly perspective. Showing the world our fears and our weakness, pushing away the good people and telling the rest how to hurt/manipulate us.  
It means that we’re not speaking the words of God.
It means that what’s going on inside us is carrying us away from God. That our personal culture is carrying us away from the good, the kind, the loving, the just, the holy.
So what are the words of God?
They are overflowing with the fruits of the Spirit, with “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.”
Those are the words of God. And they’re a sign that what’s going on inside us is carrying us towards God. That our personal culture is carrying us towards the good, the kind, the loving, the just, the holy.
Today, listen closely to what you’re saying. Be brutally honest. And remember that nothing you and I say is indifferent – everything is a sign of what’s going on inside us.
If it’s not carrying you towards the good, the kind, the loving, the just, the holy? Then it’s time to ask God for the grace to change your personal culture.
Today’s Readings
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momentsbeforemass · 10 days
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Context makes all the difference
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There are two basic kinds of choices in life – small stuff and life changers. Most of the time, whether a choice is small stuff or a life changer doesn’t have much to do with the actual choice itself. What we’re choosing to do, whether it’s hard or easy.
The difference between small stuff and life changers comes from where we are in life. Context makes all the difference.
Catching a life preserver that’s being thrown to you isn’t all that hard to do.
For someone treading water in a pond, a few feet from the shore, the choice to catch a life preserver is small stuff. It really doesn’t matter either way.
But for someone treading water in the ocean, with no land in sight, the choice to catch a life preserver is anything but small stuff.
Context makes all the difference. And it’s this dynamic that’s at the heart of today’s Gospel.
Loving someone who already loves you unconditionally isn’t all that hard to do.
What today’s Gospel makes clear is the context of that choice when it comes to Jesus. And for you and me, the stakes couldn’t be higher.
Our context? On our own, we’re separated from God. Not because we’ve done anything bad. That’s just our default state of existence in this fallen world. That’s where we start from.
The long-term consequences of doing nothing about our separation from God are horrifying to contemplate. Both in this life and in eternity.
The One who is the most upset about this? Is the One that made us. God loves us too much to abandon us.
Which is the whole point of the divine search and rescue mission that is the Incarnation.
That’s the backstory of today’s Gospel, John 3:16.
God isn’t asking us to do something that’s all that hard to do – to love Someone who already loves us unconditionally. Someone is willing to pay the ultimate price just for the chance that we would love Him back (see Good Friday for details).
But for you and me, given our context, the stakes couldn’t be higher.
Today’s Readings
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momentsbeforemass · 11 days
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Peace in the present
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Things are kind of scary right now.
Look at all of the crazy things that people did and said in the run up to yesterday’s eclipse.
Even if you knew nothing about all of the actual reasons to be worried in the world. the fact that people were having such unhinged reactions to an astronomical event (one that recurs somewhere on the planet every 18 months) is an unmistakable sign.
And that’s before you get into personal crises or anything that’s directly impacting people.
Of course, the people who were the loudest about the eclipse aren’t special. They were just venting their fears.
For the rest of us – the ones who kept our anxieties to ourselves – the people who were spouting nonsense are just the canaries in the coal mine.
Because things actually are kind of scary right now.
So much has been upended. Or is in flux. We’re left wondering what will happen next. Trying to figure out what we should do.
What to do? We’ve got some options.
We can stare backward. Desperate to go back to something we thought was normal, something we took for granted. Clinging to how things were. Idealizing it, warts and all.
Even though – truth be told – when we were in it, we did nothing but complain about it.
We can stare forward. Desperate to control what we don’t understand.
Trying to figure out what it all means like Nicodemus in today’s Gospel. In fear of a thousand ways that things could get even worse. Or never happen.
Even though – if we’re honest – all we’re doing is making ourselves more and more miserable.
Or we can be here. In the present. The only part of time that we can ever experience the way that God experiences all of time. The eternal present. Where everything is possible.
Indeed, it’s the only time when anything is possible.
The impulse that God has given you to reach out to someone who’s lonely?
The only time you can do something about it is in the present.
The spirit that God has put in you to help someone who needs help getting prescriptions or groceries?
The only time you can do something about it is in the present.
If you’re looking for the peace of God in all of this, it starts with things like that.
And it starts here. In the present.
The only time when anything is possible.
Because the present is where God is.
And God is waiting for you.  
Today’s Readings
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momentsbeforemass · 12 days
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Just
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(for someone who needs to hear it again)
I used to work with a guy who grew up in a poor neighborhood. His parents never finished high school. When the plant closed down and his dad got laid off, they lived in projects for a year.
But his parents bounced back. They got out of the projects. They worked hard. To make sure that he could go to college. 
They were so proud of him when he graduated. And he was so grateful for what they had given him.
He was one of the top performers where we worked. The guy who always mentored the new employees. The one you wanted on your team for a big project. 
But something in him was stuck in that neighborhood. 
I know this, because when opportunities came up for promotion, every time he would talk himself out of even applying. Even though with some of them, it was like the job description had been written just for him.
Every time, his response was a bunch of “justs.”
“I’m just a kid from the projects.”
“I just barely finished school.”
“I’m just lucky they haven’t fired me.”
It was sad to watch the opportunities go to other people. All because he never even tried. Because he saw himself as “just.”
And it couldn’t be farther from how God sees His children.
Look at today’s Gospel, the Annunciation. With the angel Gabriel talking to Mary. Telling her all about God’s plan for her.
Why is an angel talking to Mary? She’s no one important. 
All that stuff about genealogy at the beginning of the Gospel? About being of the House of David? That’s Joseph’s family. Mary’s family? Not even worth mentioning.  
To anyone else, Mary looks like just another nobody. But not to God.
The difference my friend and Mary? It comes down to one thing. Mary’s heart is open to seeing things God’s way.
And God sees Mary as just who He made her to be.
Just where she needs to be.
Just who He loves.
The same way that God sees you.
You are just who God made you to be.
Just where you need to be.
Just who God loves.
Today’s Readings
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momentsbeforemass · 15 days
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The pattern
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(for someone who’s drifting)
Let’s say you’ve got something big you’re taking your kids to. Your friends are getting married. And they’re making it a family-friendly event.
Even so, it’s something your kids have never done before. So you try to help them out. By explaining to them what’s going to happen. How it’s going to go.
No questions at first. In the days to come, questions start to trickle in. You answer all of them.
And each time, you take the opportunity to tell them what’s going to happen. Again, and again.
The day of the wedding? It’s a complete surprise to them. Like you never said a thing.
Sound familiar? It does to Jesus.
In the months leading up to Good Friday, Jesus told His disciples what would happen to Him. Jesus answered their all questions. Even the weird ones from Peter. Again, and again.
Good Friday? It’s a complete surprise to them. Like Jesus never said a thing.
Much less told them that He was coming back.
How do I know this?
This week’s Gospel readings. Not a single disciple of Jesus is thinking about what Jesus told them would happen. No one is having a lightbulb moment, going “oh, that’s what Jesus was talking about.”
Instead, some of them are hiding in fear. Others are giving up and walking home.
Those closest to Jesus? That’s today’s Gospel.
They bailed out. They’re back at their old jobs. Like none of it ever happened.
The only constant? Jesus.
And the way that Jesus responds. To each of them, to all of them.
Jesus doesn’t wait for any of them to figure it out. Or even remember what He told them.
The ones in hiding? Jesus hides with them.
The ones walking home? Jesus walks with them.
The ones back at their old jobs? Jesus goes to work with them.
It’s a pattern with Jesus.
Jesus loves them too much to wait for them to figure it all out.
Instead, Jesus is seeking them out. Right where they are.
Sound familiar? It should.
Because Jesus sees you and me the same way.
No matter what you’re doing. Or not doing. No matter how much your normal has been upended. No matter what direction you’re headed off in.
Even if you gave up.
Jesus loves you much to wait for you to figure it all out.
Instead, Jesus is seeking you out. Right where you are.
Today's Readings
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momentsbeforemass · 16 days
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Making sense of it
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(for someone who’s struggling to make sense of it all)
Why?
It’s the classic question of a three-year old. But it doesn’t stop there. Why is something we never stop asking.
There’s something about us that just wants to make sense of things. To know how they work and what they mean. To have it all figured out.
Sometimes we do a decent job of making sense of things – after the fact. But even that’s not 100%.
One of the hardest things you and I will ever do is make sense of things, while we’re in the middle of them.
And it seems like the more difficult, the more uncertain we are about things the stronger our desire to make sense of it becomes.
It’s almost like a downward spiral, one that keeps accelerating into itself as it goes. Until we’re more and more anxious, more and more upset. And literally desperate to understand.
The disciples that Jesus came to in today’s Gospel? That’s exactly where they were.
Whether it’s the disciples back then or us now, left to ourselves, we’re just going to keep making ourselves more anxious, more upset, more distracted. Unless we stop and let God step in, to break the spiral.
Which is why St. Francis de Sales’ classic advice couldn’t be more timely. Or more needful.
“The same everlasting Father who cares for you today will care for you tomorrow and every day.
Either he will shield you from suffering or give you unfailing strength to bear it.
Be at peace then and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginings.”
Today's Readings
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momentsbeforemass · 17 days
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The road away
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Today’s Gospel is the one about the disciples on the road to Emmaus. It’s a real town, a suburb of Jerusalem that goes by Al Qubeiba these days. But the name really doesn’t matter.
What matters is the name of the road. Because whatever you call the town, the road to it really isn’t the road to anything. In truth, it’s the road away.
For the disciples who are headed home, with the tragedy and horror of Good Friday fresh in their minds, with their hearts broken? For them, it’s the road away from the Jesus they knew and followed.
It’s the road away from deliverance. The road away from healing. The road away from hope.
You and I know exactly how it feels. Because we’ve gotten our hearts broken too, and found ourselves walking down the road away.
Maybe it was the road away after a death. Maybe it was the road away from a relationship that didn’t work out. Maybe it was the road away from sobriety. Maybe it was the road away from family that rejected us. Maybe it was the road away from faith.
Whatever it was, whether someone did it to us, we did it to ourselves, or it just happened, the reason we’re on the road away really doesn’t matter. Because it all hurts just as much.
But no matter what heartbreak sets us on the road away, just like the disciples in today’s Gospel, there’s Someone waiting for us on the road away.
Right in the middle of your heartbreak, the God who made you, the One who has always loved you, is waiting for you. Just for the chance to be with you.
Just for the chance to walk with you, at your pace.
To listen to you, as it all comes tumbling out.
To talk with you, about what’s breaking your heart. 
To love you, unconditionally.
To stay with you, always.
To heal you, for however long it takes.
Until the road away becomes the road to Home.
Today’s Readings
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momentsbeforemass · 18 days
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The problem with Easter
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Many of us have a problem with Easter.
I’m not talking about those of us who are desperate to avoid the reality and the impact of the Resurrection.
I’m talking those of us who believe. And those of us who want to believe.
And the absolute awe and wonder that’s a very human response, a very holy response to the Resurrection. Because it’s hard to overstate the importance of the Resurrection.
The glory of Easter Sunday? It’s some of the purest joy that you and I will ever experience on this side of eternity.
So what’s the problem?
The problem is with us. Here’s what I mean – when you and I see something so amazing, so glorious? We want more. There’s nothing wrong with that.
The problem comes with this unspoken assumption that you and I make. There’s something in us that responds to something that glorious, and our desire to experience it again, by assuming that this is the only way it can happen.
It’s almost like we told ourselves, “That’s how I know it’s really Jesus. When it looks just like Easter Sunday.”
And even though we don’t say it out loud, you and I treat it like a fact-check. Telling ourselves, “If it doesn’t look like that? Then it’s not really Jesus.”
Which is why today’s Gospel is so important.
Today’s Gospel shows us that moment after the Resurrection, when Mary Magdalene doesn’t recognize Jesus.
Jesus isn’t bursting forth from the tomb in a blaze of resurrection glory. The whole rolling back the stone, host of angels, heavenly chorus, Roman soldiers running in terror, sensory overload thing.
Actually, it’s kind of the opposite.
When Mary Magdalene sees Jesus? His appearance is so ordinary, she mistakes Him for the gardener.
The thing is, Mary Magdalene is one of people closest to Jesus. And this is exactly how she’s used to seeing Him. For as long as she’s known Him.
That’s the problem we can have with Easter. That no matter how well we know Jesus. Or how long we’ve known Jesus. We can fall for the blaze-of-glory-or-nothing trap.
Which is why I love the rest of this story.
Even though Mary falls for the blaze-of-glory-or-nothing trap. She doesn’t quit looking for Jesus.
And Jesus? Jesus isn’t upset because she doesn’t recognize Him. Jesus knows about the problem. Which is why Jesus waits, until Mary recognizes Him.
Because the simple truth is – that this is a both-and. For Mary. And for us.
God isn’t limited to monumental events. You and I don’t have to wait until the next blaze of eternal glory to be with God. To feel the presence of God in our lives.
All you and I have to do is follow Mary Magdalene’s lead. Keep looking for God.
When we do, we’ll find Him waiting for us in both the glorious and in the ordinary.
Even on a Tuesday.
Today’s Readings
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momentsbeforemass · 19 days
Note
Happy Easter!
Happy Easter to you too!
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momentsbeforemass · 19 days
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Hope
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(for someone whose middle name is Hope)
You and I say hope about a lot of different things.
When we buy a raffle ticket, we hope to win.
When we watch a ballgame, we hope our team wins.
There’s nothing wrong with that. But that’s only scratching the surface. You and I know that there’s a lot more to hope than that.
Which is why we don’t stop there. You and I hope when it comes to the hard stuff too.
When we get laid off, we hope to find a job.
When our marriage falls apart, we hope to find someone new.
When we get the diagnosis, we hope the treatment works.
But what happens to our hope, when things don’t work out?
When the lawsuit is dragging on, with no end in sight?
When the addiction comes roaring back?
When we’re not getting better?
When the hard stuff in life doesn’t go away, it’s easy to lose faith. To give up hope.
To tell ourselves the worst things. Things like “it’ll never work out,” “I should have seen this coming,” “God doesn’t really care about me.”
When you and I do that? It says a lot about what’s going on inside us.
What it says is that there’s something missing from our hope. That our hope has no roots, no anchor. Because it’s not really hope at all. Not hope in God anyway.
That what we’re calling hope is more of you and me “hoping” that nothing bad will ever happen.
It’s not real hope.
What is real hope? Real hope is hard. Because real hope takes trust.
Trust in God. Trust that whether the hard stuff goes away, or we go through it, that God will be with us in all of it.
That God will never abandon us. No matter what.
That’s a tall order. So what does that look like?
Real hope – looks like Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. And the hardest prayer you or I or anyone will ever pray. To say to God, from the bottom of your heart,
“Father, everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.”
And you’re thinking, “hold on, I know how that worked out. Badly. It’s called Good Friday.”
You’re right. But…only up to a point.
If that’s all there is to the story. If it ends with Good Friday.
Then Jesus would be in the history books as one of the least successful Jewish revolutionaries of the First Century. Of interest only to professional historians. And even then, not so much. More like a footnote.
If that’s all there is to the story. If it ends with Good Friday.
But you and I know better. That Good Friday isn’t the whole story.
Because sometimes, just like Jesus prayed, the way out? Is through.
That is what Easter Sunday is all about.
In spite of everything that was done to Him. All that He went through on Good Friday.
It still ends up on Easter Sunday. Because Easter Sunday shows us what it means to go through the very worst things in life – with God.
Easter Sunday shows us that even when the way out is through? We don’t have to do it alone.
That when we go through the hardest things in life with God. In the spirit of, “God, not what I will, but what you will.”
Even if we can’t see where it’s going. Or if we can see where it’s going, and we’re scared.
Even if we’ve got doubts. Or if we’re praying that prayer in anger.
“God, not what I will, but what you will.”
If that’s where we’re going. No matter how imperfectly. If that’s where our hearts are headed.
“God, not what I will, but what you will.”
Then one thing is certain - our Easter Sunday is coming.
This is the root, this is the anchor of our hope.
Easter Sunday shows us that no matter what we’re going through, even the hardest things in life. That God loves us too much to abandon us.
This is the reason for our hope.
We can trust God to see us through.
Because our Easter Sunday is coming.
Sunday’s Readings
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momentsbeforemass · 22 days
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Good Friday
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The more you think about it, the worse it gets.
No part of the Passion Gospel, the Gospel for Good Friday, has any hope.
Even the tender moments – Jesus asking John to take care of his mother, Joseph and Nicodemus making sure that Jesus has a proper burial – they’re just people dealing with the fallout from death.
You know what Joseph and Nicodemus are thinking about while they’re wrapping Jesus’ body up for burial? How much this sucks.
And whether the Romans will stop at killing Jesus. Or will they, and other followers of Jesus, be next?
The more you think about it, the worse it gets.
You know what Joseph and Nicodemus aren’t thinking about? How anything good can come from this.
Much less how God is already using all of it to do more good than either of them, or anyone on Good Friday, could ever imagine.
And yet, you and I know, that’s exactly what’s happening. Because you and I know something that Joseph and Nicodemus don’t know. Not on that worst of Friday’s.
They don’t know that Sunday is coming.
But that’s how it is, when you’re where they are. When you are right in the middle of the very worst.
When you and I are right in the middle of the very worst, there is nothing that human eyes can see to tell us that it’s ever going to get any better.
When that’s where you are, the only open question is whether it’s going to get worse.
In the middle of everything that you are dealing with right now – whether it’s death or illness, divorce or the end of a friendship, job loss or financial problems – while you’re waiting to see whether you’ve hit bottom or if it’s going to get worse. You get Joseph and Nicodemus. You are right there with them.
The more you think about what you’re dealing with, the worse it gets.
There’s nothing that our human eyes can see to tell us that anything good can come from what you’re going through.
And yet, you and I know, that’s not true.
Because you and I know something. Something that’s easy to lose sight of when you’re in the middle. Something that’s hard to hold onto when you’re scared.
But it doesn’t matter. It’s okay if we lose sight of it. Because it’s still true. Even if we’re scared. 
Today is Good Friday. And Good Friday shows us that none of it, not even the very worst, can hold down our God.
Because Sunday is coming.
Today’s Readings
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