The Seven Last Words

I've recently had the opportunity to think a bit more about what are referred to as the seven last words of Christ. As you may know, the seven last words are actually seven statements, and they are the last things that Christ said before dying. Below are those statements with some thoughts about what they mean.

Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. (Luke 23:34)

Forgiveness is one of the cornerstones of our faith. It is also one of the hardest parts of our faith to truly integrate into our lives. Christ had just been beaten and humiliated, scourged and whipped. He was then forced to carry the instrument of his death, the cross on which he was to be crucified, through crowds of people. Some in the crowds tortured him with their hateful words while some, like Simon and Veronica, stepped from the crowd to help him. He was then forces to climb with his cross to the top of this hill – a trash dump – where criminals were crucified and tortured. Jesus was then tortured and crucified. And in that moment – imagine the feelings you would have towards your tormentors – in that moment Jesus asked God to forgive them.

He asks us to forgive as well. It seems a part of the human condition to be bad at this. But he asks us to find the spirit and grace in us, the presence of God in us, to forgive others. If Christ can model this while hanging from a cross, stunned with pain, so should we be able to do the same.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Matthew 27:46)

Christ was a person as much as he was God. He had doubts and fears like us. Here, Christ feels abandoned and alone. He questions God and, perhaps implicitly, his faith in God. We have doubts and raise questions about our faith all the time as we are confronted with the challenge of living our faith. Let Christ’s feelings of loneliness and abandonment be a reminder that we are never alone, even when we feel abandoned, and a reminder to continue to believe in the love of our Father even when, or especially when, we feel abandoned.

He said to his mother, "Woman, behold your son!" Then he said to the disciple, "Behold your mother!" (John 19:26-27)

We do not know when Christ will return. But until that time, we are responsible for each other. We are called to act with love and respect to each other. We are called to a true community. As the disciple was called to behold Mary as his Mother, and Mary was called to see his disciple as her son, so we are all called to be family and to honor that family.

I thirst! (John 19:28)

God thirsts for us to search for Him and to find Him in the same way that we should thirst for Him. If you have ever been truly thirsty, there is an urgency to your efforts to quench that thirst. It is a matter of life or death. In the same way it is for our faith. It is easy to forget that God is present in our world and in our lives. But even more because of the extent to which He has been marginalized, we are called to look for him and to follow him as we would look for water and drink the water to quench our physical thirst.

Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise. (Luke 23:43)

A criminal who died next to Christ called out, hoping that God would Christ would remember him. We spend so much time in our lives trying to be memorable – so that a teacher or coach or girlfriend or boyfriend or parent or friend or sibling – will acknowledge us in some way. The only thing that matters, though, is that we are remembered by Christ for the life that we live. Being remembered by Christ is the ultimate gift or promise, the gift of salvation.

It is finished! (John 19:30)

We might say these words – it is finished – in a moment of despair when we have given up all hope. But we might also say these words as a celebration or a triumph – at the end of a test, after a successful game, at the end of some long personal trial. When Christ said these words, it was not in defeat, but in victory. He wasn’t announcing failure but was celebrating the victory of the cross. He had a purpose and fulfilled it. His death on the Cross won us salvation. It is our challenge to view our crosses, our challenges, as calls to rise above them, to emerge better for what we learn about ourselves in doing so.

Father, into thy hands I commit my spirit. (Luke 23:46)

The final words of Christ ultimately convey the relief of returning to His father, but also the trust that Christ has in his Father, allowing Christ to place his life completely in God’s hands. We are called also to trust God in this way and to live our lives for Him. And when we die, we return to Him, our spirit going back to the source of our life.

Christmas in Chihuahua

I just returned from an amazing Christmas holiday in Chihuahua, Mexico that coincided with a long overdue family reunion. I am so blessed to have such a wonderful family and was thrilled to have the opportunity to spend time with everyone (and to let my wife and boys do the same). I already miss them all and only wish we could have spent more time together. I'll just count myself blessed for the opportunity, however limited.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, a number of us spent some time helping to hand out clothes and food to the poor living in the Chihuahuan suburbs. The scope of the poverty was overwhelming and the needs of the poor seemed limitless. Nonetheless, it was gratifying to be able to give a few hours to help even if only in a small way. In addition to providing some relief to others, spending time on Christmas weekend in service to others helped to serve as a reminder about how carried away we can get by the commercial spirit of Christmas. We get so wrapped up - no pun intended - in all the presents that we give and receive that it is easy to forget what we really are supposed to be celebrating on Christmas. The birth of Christ marks the moment that God chose to become man in order that he might die to save us. Even when we celebrate Christ's birth at Mass, it is easy to forget that His birth was just the first step in a journey that would result in His crucifixion. I am not suggesting that we don't celebrate his birth with joy and hope; rather, I am suggesting that we work harder to keep our perspective and to remember the obligations that come with accepting the real gift of Christmas.

To my relatives in Chihuahua, thanks for the reminder and muchas gracias por todo!

Imagine ...

On the anniversary of the murder of her husband, John Lennon, Yoko Ono asks us to honor his memory by taking a message of hope and forgiveness out of the tragedy of his death. Yoko wrote:

"To the people who have also lost loved ones without cause:
forgive us for having been unable to stop the tragedy. We pray for the wounds to heal.

To the soldiers of all countries and of all centuries, who were maimed for life, or who lost their lives:
forgive us for our misjudgments and what happened as a result of them.

To the civilians who were maimed, or killed, or who lost their family members: forgive us for having been unable to prevent it.

To the people who have been abused and tortured: forgive us for having allowed it to happen.Know that your loss is our loss.Know that the physical and mental abuse you have endured will have a lingering effect on our society, and the world.Know that the burden is ours.

As the widow of one who was killed by an act of violence, I don't know if I am ready yet to forgive the one who pulled the trigger. I am sure all victims of violent crimes feel as I do. But healing is what is urgently needed now in the world.Let's heal the wounds together.

Every year, let's make December 8th the day to ask for forgiveness from those who suffered the insufferable."

We could all hope to rise to this challenge.

A Lesson from the Amish

As youth minister, I am often challenged to demonstrate to skeptical teens how faith can have everyday relevance. Our dollar driven culture claims greater relevance, vying for the attention of teens and professions of their “faith” while making hollow promises of fulfillment. Christianity promises more but also asks for more - among other things, humility and selflessness. It is easy to see how the sirens of modern culture have grabbed an edge in the marketing battle.

When tragedy struck in Lancaster County, I couldn’t fathom the devastation visited upon that quiet Amish community when a gunman entered their schoolhouse. More profound than their loss, however, was how their community found their voice to forgive the killer and the compassion to embrace the killer’s family. They were visited by an unimaginable tragedy and responded with love and forgiveness.

Their faith is not a separate part of their lives to which they tend on Sabbath or merely a crutch to lean on in crisis. It has been woven so deeply into their person that it is who they are. And it is beautiful to behold.

They experienced a foundation shaking tragedy, yet their foundation proved unshakable. Could there be anything more relevant?

So Be It ...

Teresa of Avila left us with this beautiful prayer:

Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours.

Every time that we receive the Eucharist, we accept Christ into our bodies. Accepting the challenge of St Teresa’s words is difficult. And as we are bombarded with messages every day reminding us to live for ourselves instead of others, it is easy to lose sight of this call. Maybe we can remind ourselves, every time we accept Christ in the Eucharist, that we are not only receiving a wonderful gift – this wonderful promise of salvation - but we also accept a responsibility to let Christ live through us, to act through us, to love, and forgive, and heal, and comfort – through us. I don’t think we can ask for the promise of salvation without trying to keep this promise ourselves.

When we receive the Eucharist, a Eucharistic minister will hold Christ out to you and announce, “The Body of Christ”. We extend our hands to receive him and say “Amen”. While the word amen has many subtle meanings, when uttered at the end of a prayer, it means “so be it”. So Christ is presented to us, and we say “so be it”. Let that be a reminder of our promise -- the promise that we make to “be it” -- to be the hands, the feet, the mouth, the eyes – the body of Christ.

The very last thing Christ said personally to his disciples was this, “in the world you shall have tribulation, but be of good cheer, for I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

It may often be a challenge to let Christ truly live in us, to be his hands and feet and body, and it will require our faith, humility and courage. But remember Christ’s last words – even at your most difficult moment, be of good cheer, for he has overcome the world. Accept him in the sacrament of the Eucharist and strive to let him live through and in you.

Amen.
So be it.

Christ Has No Hands But Yours

This World of ours is in trouble. When you look around and pay even a little bit of attention, it is impossible not to see it.

War, violence, hate, suffering, poverty, death, intolerance, apathy, indifference. The list could go on and on. It takes little imagination to anticipate Christ's reaction if he were to walk among us today. When he did walk on this earth, his presence was so powerful that a person could be healed without so much as touching if only they believed in his power. And when he would lay his hands upon someone, friend or foe, that person could not help but be healed.

While he remains physically absent, he does not walk as one of us and reach out his hand to embrace or comfort or to reassure. But we do. He gave his body, his life that we might be saved, that we might transcend the limitation of our own physical being and be with him. We are called then to do the same -- to give our bodies that we might be saved, that in using our hands and feet to do his work we might transcend the limitations of our flesh. Christ asks us to be his hands and feet in this world -- to give him a physical presence by doing his will. Whether we open our hands in prayer, extend our hands in assisting others, offer our time in service - we are called to be vessels for Christ.

Today is a Good Day

The parents of a beautiful 5 year old girl, Taylor, who died this past June taught me something very important tonight. They came and spoke at my youth group meeting about the loss of their daugter and the impact that their tremendous loss had on their faith. I came away humbled. Even in the midst of the type of life event that is almost too sad to even comprehend, Keith and Sally have found a way to be thankful for the lessons that their daughter taught them in her living and her dying.

Keith recounted how he began his daughter's eulogy with these words "Today is a good day." Somehow, he said those words just before burying his daughter. What he meant, and part of what Taylor taught him, was that today is all that we have. We can't live in our past, and we may not get tomorrow, so we have to live in today and make sure that it is a good one. Even as she was dying, Taylor lived each day with a smile on her face.

In many ways, it would be easier to live seeing only the negative and to be angry with God. But if we only see anger instead of looking for healing, if we only see suffering instead of the opportunity to serve others, then that is all that we will have - anger and suffering. But if we live, looking with hope for healing and the opportunities to serve each other, then there is no way for every such day to be anything other than, simply, good.

Amen.

and thanks, Taylor.

Indifference

I gave a talk this past weekend at a youth retreat. The topic was about "Living between Heaven and Earth," and I talked mostly about what Christ taught us at the Garden of Gethsemane. The scene at the garden has, to me, always been one of the most intriguing scenes in Jesus' life. Christ never appeared more human and vulnerable and it was while so human and vulnerable that he openly accepted his fate. It was this willingness to choose to do God's will notwithstanding his doubts and fears that serves as a great example to me, and should to all of us. If he can carry that cross, we can most certainly bear ours.

In the garden, Christ alo directs his disciples (and us) to watch and pray. The disciples, of course, fall asleep. In many ways we have fallen asleep as well, consumed by the business of today's world and forgetting to live our lives as Christians. This forgetfulness is the first step of a learned and dangerous indifference.

Our "falling asleep" is an act not of selflessness but the opposite. Well, what if we are just tired. I mean, we've got to sleep sometime. While that's true, if we are always asleep to the needs of others, we become an island, separate from our community of faith and ultimately a little farther away from God.

Our intentional wakefulness is required to be vigilant about helping those who need help and is a necessary component of our faith. Our faith does not happen by accident but comes through a process of discernment. This process moves along only to the extent that any contemplative study of our faith is accompanied by this wakefulness that puts our faith into action, so to speak. Without this wakefulness, even the best intentioned will invariably get lost within himself and his faith risks failure. Without the energy and sustenance that comes from participating in a community of faith, a person's faith risks being much less than it could be.

Be a Light!

This editorial is spot on. If the link does not work, the notion can be summed up with the following quote:

"Guess what: words matter. Bookstores matter. Video games matter. But here is our challenge: If the primary terrorism problem we face today can effectively be addressed only by a war of ideas within Islam - a war between life-affirming Muslims against those who want to turn one of the world's great religions into a death cult - what can the rest of us do?

More than just put up walls. We need to shine a spotlight on hate speech wherever it appears. The State Department produces an annual human rights report. Henceforth, it should also produce a quarterly War of Ideas Report, which would focus on those religious leaders and writers who are inciting violence against others. "

The author, Robert Friedman, was writing about how we can no longer let the villains in our midst get away with murder by letting them hide. We need to shine a light on them and make them feel uncomfortable in their own skin. The rub - it has to come from within. If an American tells a "Muslim" terrorist that he is wrong, the terrorist is energized. If that criticism comes from within the real Muslim community, it works. The more people that shine their light on that person and villify him for his actions, the more effective it is.

I find this line of thinking as exciting as it is insightful. There is a lot of darkness amongst us in many forms - drug peddlers, people who oppress with hate, bullies, brutes, racists - you name it. As Christians, we are called to be a light to the world. Part of the beauty and power of being a light is that you refuse to allow people who act out of hate to hide in their darkness. The more light, the less darkness. Period. This is not just a choice we might make, it is who we are called to be. We really cannot both be Christians and allow people to spew hate. That is our challenge.

Be a light!

Anywhere

One of my favorite places in the world is the Grand Tetons in Wyoming. I hiked through the Cascade Canyon in 1995 in the middle of a pretty powerful thunderstorm. The sound of the thunder echoing off the walls while getting washed with a rain shower was pretty intense.

It is easy to feel appreciative of our earth and her rich blessings when standing in a place of such raw power and beauty. It almost seems foolish not to say a prayer of thanks as well when in the presence of such majesty.

We certainly don't need to be in the presence of such natural beauty to offer up a word of thanks. After the recent death of a young girl in my son's preschool, this resonates with me even more. Every morning is a reason to give thanks. It is easy to forget when our days are slammed full of things we might not want to do. But each day is still a gift.

So, Thanks.

Open Forum

Once a month, I will post an open forum. Ideally, people would use the comment area (see comment link below) to post questions or comments about whatever (everyday morality, questions about faith, discussion of favorite music) and others could reply by posting their own comments.

You can post questions anonymously or use your name (once you click on the comment link, it will prompt you and you can choose anonymous posting). No topic is off limits - I'd just ask people to be respectful and to abide by general standards of decency.

Peace.

Leadership Retreat

The Christian Leadership Retreat at Holy Family was a wonderful success. I was really moved by the events of the weekeend (April 22-24), and it was bittersweet to see it come to an end. The spirit was moving over the weekend, and if we manage to carry even just a whisper of that spirit back to our schools, parishes, homes, jobs and communities, I am confident that the momentum of the weekend can carry on and touch a lot of people.

So many people shared so much that weekend. My favorite moments? Hard to pick:

• Sharing meals at our table with a great group of people
• Some of the funniest "most embarrassing moments" I've ever heard
• The Bonfire
• Having the privilege to speak to such a wonderful group and sharing Fr. Arrupe's inspiration
  
• The talent show
• Saturday night in the Chapel

So, feel free to share your own favorite moments by posting a comment. Thanks to everyone at Holy Family for making it all possible! Props to all of the retreatants for making the choice to come!!

You will all continue to be in my prayers. Peace.

John Paul II, We Love You

Those are the words that resonated over the wide expanse of Lansdowne Field in Toronto in the Summer of 2002. More than a half a million teenagers migrated to Toronto for World Youth Day - a misnomer of sorts since World Youth Day actually involves a week of prayer, service, music, celebration and community building. We were all packed into this field - an abandoned airfield- drying out from the prior evening's rain that had pelted our makeshift tents made of cardboard, tarps, umbrellas and raincoats. We had hiked through the blazing July sun (no, really, Toronto gets quite hot in the Summer) laden with backpacks, sleeping bags, cameras, bottles of water and whatever else we could carry. There were flags from Poland to Palestine, from Australia to America. All of us were gathered, though, under one flag - the flag of the Vatican.

And then he spoke. He spoke with such sincerity and love and hope. He pleaded with the youth to pick up the flag of their faith. He shared his concerns about the distractions that today's culture offers that weaken the bonds that tie us together. He recognized that the youth in the church were not just some abstract part of the Church's future but were the heart and soul of its present. He saw in the hundreds of thousands gathered a reason to hope. And he inspired us all.

John Paul II will be missed, but with his death only his body left us. His legacy and his spirit remain.

John Paul II, we love you.

Who has the time?

I just started to read a book called The Cloister Walk and have gotten as far as the end of the Preface. The book apparently tells the story of the author Kathleen Norris' unusual experience of becoming a Benedictine Oblate ( a layperson dedicated to religious life). I was immediately struck by the following of the author's words:

"I had often heard the Benedictines refer to their Liturgy of the Hours ... as "the sanctification of time," but had not much idea of what this could mean until I'd attended the liturgies at St. John on a daily basis for many months. Gradually, my perspective on time had changed. In our culture, time can seem like an enemy: it chews us up and spits us out with appalling ease. But the monastic perspective welcomes time as a gift from God, and seeks to put it to good use rather than allowing us to be used up by it."

Today, regardless of your age or occupation, we all struggle with time. When will we find the time to get work done, do homework, shop for groceries, cut the lawn, hang out with friends, think, pray, listen to music, sleep, read that book you've been meaning to read, write someone back. It can be pretty overwhelming. But, if you look at time as a gift and just try to put it to its best use instead of stressing about fitting everything in, we'd all be better served.

So what are you giving up?

I find it pretty funny how everyone, no matter what their faith or background, inevitably asks of everyone wearing ashes on their forehead, "So what you giving up for Lent?" They then proceed to pass judgment on whether it is good enough and might remind you that they'll be checking up on you to see if you stay true to the course. Give me a break! To me, it is sort of a private decision. You might give something up or not. You might decide to try to do something positive instead. Whatever you do, I hope it deepens your experience of the Lenten Season and your appreciation for the suffering that Christ endured for us.

People will probably also ask you what the ashes on the forehead stand for. Well, if you need a reminder, you can look here.

Virus Free

Well, my computer is back up and running after a run in with a few trojan horses. So, I will soon be updating the blog.

Until then, and in light of the recent 60th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, I'll leave you with the following quote from Viktor Frankl, a holocaust survivor:

"We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number ... but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of his freedoms - to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstance, to choose one's own way."

Merry "Christ"mas

As December 25 approaches, and we race around to get our last minute shopping finished, and we try to finish wrapping our 6,000 gifts, it is easy to forget why we are doing all of this. I guess I have to concede that, for a lot of people, this is why we do it. Many may have succumbed to the commercialization of Christmas, and the annual gift swapping has become for them the alpha and the omega, so to speak.

It seems a shame, though, that we get caught up in all of the hype and forget to take even a moment to reflect on the real message of Christmas. Of course, we are celebrating the birth of Christ. Even for relatively active and practicing Christians, though, it is easy to miss this message in all of the holly and mistletoe. But it is important to think about it, at least for a minute. This isn't just an overhyped birthday party. This is a conscious decision by God to take on the burden of flesh to become human and to bear all of the indignities that come with it. This is a decision to become man with the intent from the outset to make the ultimate sacrifice. This is the first day in a life of 33 or so years, the sole purpose of which was to make it possible for us humans to be saved. It is a gift beyond value. You can't get it on ebay or in the LL Bean catalogue. It won't be wrapped up in a box with a ribbon or stuffed in your stocking. But it is the gift for which we should be the most thankful on Christmas day and every day thereafter.

So, how do you give thanks? It is so easy that it is almost sad that we, as Christians, have failed to do it with any consistency. Give thanks by showing compassion to somebody. Give thanks by forgiving someone even if it is easier to be mad at them (and even if you think you have every right to still be mad). Give thanks by being nice to someone who won't be nice to you. Give thanks by doing something nice just for the heck of it. Give thanks by standing up for somebody that can't stand up for themselves. Whatever you do, just make sure that you give thanks.

I've found that people (myself included) will often wait until someone else makes the first move. Why should I decide to be the "bigger" person? The person that slighted me should go first. Why should I be the one to do it? Well, for one, because on Christmas day we realize that someone else has already made the first move. God chose not to wait for me to earn the gift of his son before giving that gift to me. And for that, I will give thanks.

Merry Christmas!

Happy Thanksgiving

As always, there is much for which to be thankful. Even when life seems to weigh heavily upon us, knowing that the weight is lighter because of God's love and the love and support of family and friends is a gift to cherish. We should all reflect on those things for which we are thankful.

And how about another little twist? In addition to focusing on what you are thankful for, we should all try to be present in someone else's life so that they might be thankful for our presence, assistance, kind words or, comforting hand. So, this Thanksgiving, aspire to be what someone else is thankful for.

Happy Thanksgiving.

A Time Well Spent

I spent the weekend of November 12-14 at the Holy Family Monastery for a retreat with a bunch of truly excellent people. Theresa, Rose, Pat, Brandon, Fr. David, Sr. Mary Ann, Matt, Andrea, Chris, Mike and the rest of the retreat team was nothing short of spectacular. The students from Simsbury and Branford were also excellent. The spirit was at work, no doubt.

These are some of the things that I learned over the weekend. Feel free to add a comment with things I've missed.

• As much as the Church is beaten around these days, the joy and vibrancy of the young people in the church bodes well for the future. I almost get the sense that we needed to have a little awakening (even a rude one) in the Church to help us refocus on the core of what we believe is important: honesty, commitment, faith, listening to others (regardless of their age) to learn from their experiences of Christ in this world, a willingness to participate in community, allowing yourself to be moved by the spirit.
• Music moves you just a little closer to God.
• Reconciliation is a gift, even if it requires a bit of humility to accept.
• Youthfulness is a good thing, even if it keeps the priests up after midnight.
• God works through us in every little thing that we do.

I owe a great deal of thanks to all those who were present and allowed themselves to feel Christ's presence in all of us.

This Blog is just beginning. May it serve as a place to commune, to share joy and sorrow, to worship and to bring this world a little closer to God's ideal.

Peace.

The Red Door

Welcome, all.

A red door has traditionally been a symbol of a safe haven for both the mind and body. I'd like to think that this blog would serve the same - as a place where everyone of all walks would feel welcome.

So, enjoy.