In Just Three Days.

Luke 11:29-32

In today's reading, we learn a little about the notion of expectation. Jesus challenges the crowd to not be satisfied with quick answers and teaches them that what they seek will come assuredly from down deep within. He is trying to teach them about faith.

Jesus explains that the forefathers were given signs that foreshadowed perennial truth sought by the crowd. He explains that prophesy, judgment, and wisdom is among them. But without eyes of faith, they are not able to see it.

What are we missing?

Two thousand years of hindsight is 20/20. I think about this exchange and wonder what I would have thought. I liken the whole scenario to when you watch a good mystery movie for the third time and still pick up clues that you missed during the first two viewings.

In so many ways, we are blessed to be living in our generation. We have the Internet, vast libraries, sophistocated communication mechanisms. But, do we have any more faith? I doubt it. In many of the important areas, man has not really changed much.

Jesus tries to tell us (like he told the generation in this passage) that the signs have always been there for us, if we use our eyes of faith. The final and most complete sign was Jesus, himself. In just three days, he taught us the meaning of our lives. In the resurrection, we had proof of our savior.

Like Talking to a Friend

Matthew 6: 7-15

Today's reading gives us a grand prescription. Here Jesus teaches us how to pray. It is a formula for the most perfect prayer.

Step One. Acknowledge who you are addressing: Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Step Two. Unite your will to God's: thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Step Three. Petition God modestly for both your material and spiritual needs: give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. Step Four. Ask for fortitude and protection: and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

We have all heard it. Some of us have likely prayed it-- but do we understand it?

What Does It Really Mean to Pray?

In it's essence, all prayer really is is our soul's conversation with its Creator. The Church and Tradition have passed along many beautiful prayers, and Scripture is full of them.

But, sadly, I have found that one of the things that people who question their faith struggle with is the misunderstood notion of prayer. These people are cynical and view memorized or rote prayer as meaningless and even disingenuous. In some instances, they may be on to something. But, I have to believe that focusing the mind on God can't be all bad? Truth is that pray is not really about the words you say so much as it is about the intent of your heart.

What I can say for certain is that some of my most powerful prayers have been the simplest. "Thank you." "Help me, please." "I love you." Offer up your prayers like you are talking to a friend-- your best friend.

But remember that a friendship requires the time and attention of both friends. God is always with you-- even if you don't necessarily see him or feel him. Have faith. Spend some time with Him-- whether you have the grace to see Him in the Blessed Sacrament or if you simply reach out to Him in your mind. Talk awhile with a friend.

My Toe, His Toe.

Matthew 25: 31-46

Today's reading gives us the mother of all previews. Jesus tells His disciples exactly what it will be like during the final judgment of our souls.

Here is where it pays to know your animals. Jesus uses yet another analogy, the basic meaning of which we will discuss here. However, be warned that my limited knowledge of animal behavior may very well miss some slight nuances.

In its essence, Jesus explains that (in the end) God will bring together everyone, and he will be like a shepherd separating the sheep from the goats. The basis of separation is how we have treated our fellow man.

Why this analogy, and why this standard?

The analogy is clever. Think about what we know about sheep, for instance. Sheep are loyal and obedient whose physical image is one of whiteness (purity) and warmth. Now consider the goat. A goat is generally thought to be headstrong and obstinate, with a physical image of being dirty and gruff. In what sense are we either sheep or goats?

We are either sheep or goats by virtue of how we treat each other. We decide. What Jesus tells us is simple. What you do (or don't do) to your fellow man, you do (or don't do) to Me.

This is a very challenging notion if you stop and think about all of the interactions you have on a daily basis. The good thing, I suppose, is that each day we get ample opportunity to try.

In this passage, Jesus gives us very concrete examples-- feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the poor, care for the sick, welcome the stranger, visit the ill and imprisoned. It is one thing to be kind to those in our life that we love-- and even those in our life that we like. It is something else altogether to recognize the face of Jesus in those we don't love (or even like). . . and even harder still to see His face in those who despise us.

Try to think about it this way. . . one toe at a time. Each time you stub your toe (or someone else's) you stub His. My advice: keep your feet clean, put on your shoes and walk around awhile. Life is there waiting for your next step.

The Audacity of the Devil.

Luke 4:1-13

Today's Gospel recalls the story of Jesus' temptation by the Devil. If you are unfamiliar with the story, it goes a little something like this. . .

Jesus spends 40 days in the desert to offer penance and prayer to His Father. (This act alone should be enough to affirm the efficacy of prayer and penance-- but, I will leave this to another post.) At the end of these 40 days, Jesus was hungry, weak and tired. No doubt about that. This is when the Devil struck.

The Devil tempts Jesus three times. First, the Devil goats Jesus to turn stone to bread. Second, the Devil offers Jesus all the kingdoms of the Earth. Third, he dares Jesus to jump from the parapet of the temple to tempt God to save Him.

There is logic in the madness.

You see-- the Devil strikes when we are weak. The Devil tries first to tempt Jesus through his physical senses. Use the unnatural to satisfy a physical need. Then, the Devil tries to tempt Jesus through pride. Use the unnatural to satisfy a spiritual need. Finally, the Devil tries to tempt Jesus through a perversion of His relationship with God. This takes the most audacity. But ultimately, the Devil fails.

Think about all the ways little and large-- physical and spiritual-- that we are tempted everyday. With most of us, the Devil gets off easy. We succumb without much fight. But, perhaps you can recall an instance when you were tempted in a way that perverted your very relationship with your Creator? Think of the audacity of that. Did you succumb?

We all fail. But, rest assured that there are those praying that we get up, brush ourselves off and understand that even the best of us are tempted. . . and Jesus proves that it doesn't matter if we fail. There is someone who has won.

Is There a Doctor in the House?

Luke 5:27-32

In today's Gospel, Luke recalls the scene where Levi, the tax collector, responds to Jesus' call. Levi drops everything, leaves his post and follows Jesus. Thinking in terms of the circumstances of our own day, this scenario is hard to imagine.

But taking the entire episode at its face (without really even examining what in the world Levi must have been experiencing in the exchange) we see something that the religious of the time could not understand. Jesus was not seeking out those who were righteous. He was reaching out to those who were perceived the dregs of their society. The guys you love to hate: the tax collectors. (Lenten restraint prevents me from making a bad IRS joke.)

Later in this passage, we are told of the gathering and dinner Levi hosts where Jesus is the guest of honor among a group of other tax collectors-- some of the society most notorious sinners.

What is going on here?

We must remember who Jesus is-- God. We must remember His job-- to proclaim the Truth about our destiny as man. Jesus uses the analogy of the patient-doctor relationship. This is a simple one to understand. Jesus reached out to the sick-- in this case, the spiritually sick.

This story says something beautiful about all of us. Whether we are believers or not, there is something inside each of us that knows that there is something missing in all of us. We may not always sense it. But, I think if we are honest with ourselves, we can point to episodes in our lives where we have felt a void.

The lesson today is that God makes house calls. We just have to recognize our symptoms and be honest enough with ourselves to tell the doctor the truth-- regardless of our fear of treatment.

The Meaning of the Fast

Matthew 9:14-15

Yes, Thursday's cross still has me off a day. But, today is the day to get back on track. Recall from yesterday's post the inconvenience of losing Internet access. But, I think there is a lesson here.

Friday (yesterday) was the first Friday of the Season of Lent (more about this over the next 40 some days of posts...). There I was-- rushing about my busy day. Truth be told, I was pretty distracted and a little anxious and stressed out. Not unlike days that you have had, I'm sure.

I was invited by some colleagues to join them for a casual lunch out of the office. We find ourselves at a little pub a few blocks away. We are having an enjoyable conversation (despite dozens of televisions fixated on the Tiger Wood's press conference). We order, eat, talk and laugh some more, and then we leave.

The problem is that in my stress and distraction, I completely forgot my obligation to fast and abstain. Not six steps out of the front door of the pub, I realized it. Then the cherry-on-the-top: the "Oh, _ _ _t." I admitted my sin. One of my two colleagues said she had noticed when I ordered and had contemplated kicking me under the table-- the whole thing was kind a disaster. But let me tell you what I learned:

God gives us penances as a gift and as a tool.

The day's Gospel reading tells the story of when Jesus was asked why His disciples do not fast. Jesus' response is so very simple. He uses a wedding analogy and asks the question: "Can the wedding guests mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them?" What does this mean? Well, after my first Lenten blunder, I completely understand.

You see, God gives us the discipline of fasting to help us to feel hunger. Why? It helps us to focus our mind. It is a "rumble in the tummy" reminder. Everything we have and everything we are comes from God.

I was so caught up in my day that I forgot. The irony is that I really needed to fast on Friday. I needed God in the midst of my busy and stressful day. Intellectually, I knew this. But to really grasp this, I needed to feel this.

The disciples did not fast when they were with Jesus because His presence was already there. In my next fast, the door will be open for Our Lord to come on over and stay awhile. He is the friend I need on those busy, stressful days.

Letting Go-- and Letting God

Luke 9:22-25

Alright. It is not much of a cross, but a little cross it is, nonetheless. The cable went out yesterday, and I lost my Internet connection. Not so much of a tragedy, you could certainly say. I can accept that missing the colossal battle in Olympic Figure Skating is not much of a hardship. But, missing my blog post about the significance of carrying our daily crosses is a tough one to bear. That said-- I'm back, and I'm sorry that I missed you.

Thursday's Gospel reading is extraordinary. In this passage, we read the most amazing prediction in all of human history. The Savior of the Universe predicts that he will suffer greatly, will be rejected, will be killed and will be raised from the dead on the third day. Wow. This is NOT what people expected to hear.

Even more shocking is what Jesus tells us about ourselves.

God, himself, in the second person of the Holy Trinity (more on this likely in another post) tells us in no uncertain terms that for the eternal life that comes only through him we must (1) deny ourselves, (2) take up our daily crosses, and (3) follow Him. This is a tall order.

However, Jesus gives us guidance when he says simply that we should forget the life that we know. We should give it up and let it go. We need to understand that although we live in the world that we are not of the world.

This concept requires almost a suspension of our very notion of reality. We need to understand that to live as God requires we must deny ourselves. Sadly, in our culture, denial is often-- in and of itself-- viewed perversely as a sacrilege. We must also embrace our cross-- we must see it as a gift (see post on suffering-- February 15).

And most importantly, we must follow God. This last one is often the hardest one for me. But, knowing that God has my very best interest at heart, I pray for the grace to hear Him and follow. I need to learn how to let go-- and let God.

Keeping Secrets

Ash Wednesday

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18

Welcome to Lent. Sounds like an odd greeting, but I mean it. The secret is out. I love Lent. I love it because I am the kind of person who is willing to admit that she needs structure and ritual. It makes me feel calm and secure. If you are Catholic, you may likely understand.

Today is the day that we are reminded of the truth about life. The ashes on our forehead remind us of the human condition affected by sin. Easy enough to understand, but is it? Today we live in a world that everyday denies that sin even exists.

In the imposition of ashes, today, we are admitting our guilt before God and expressing our desire for inward conversion. This sign is the first step in our journey of conversion. It takes us to the sacrament of reconciliation, then to the Passion and then to salvation in the Resurrection at Easter.

This is what we must remember.

We are made up of two substances. A body and a soul. It is no secret that our bodies die. But what is often difficult to remember or understand is that our soul (the invisible part of us that animates our bodies) is wounded when we sin.

During Lent, we are offered a beautiful prescription. We learn from today's reading that what our souls need is to pray, to fast, and to give alms. But the key is that we must do these three things in secret.

Why is secret? When these three things (prayer, fasting and almsgiving) are done in secret, it is God who sees your true intentions. These offerings are done in communion with God, alone. This is because it is God who heals the soul.

Who's Driving Us Crazy?

James 1:12-18

In today's reading from the Letter of James, we learn yet another one of the important secrets of life. Who is it that is driving us crazy?

James instructs us to make no mistake-- it is NOT God who tempts us. This is because God is not subject to evil. If you can wrap your head around it-- God is goodness, itself.

So, who is driving us crazy?

On any given day, I am sure that it would be easy to fill in the blank. My vote is for Satan. But, that is not exactly right, either. What James wants us to know is something profound-- something that is frightening to admit out loud.

We are tempted (and in my parlance--driven crazy) when we are lured and enticed by our own desire. So, the person driving us crazy is OUR SELF.

God gave us all a dangerous and powerful gift. He gave us our will. But, in His loving wisdom, he also gave us His Word. Through His Word, if we listen, we have everything we need to harness our will and calm the crazies.

Why Do We Suffer?

James 1:1-11

Today's reading comes from the Letter of James. If you don't know, the Letter of James is a small letter sandwiched in between the Letter to the Hebrews and First Peter, if you care to check it out. Of all the books of the Bible (save the Gospels, themselves), I love the Letter of James. I love it for its simplicity, and I love it for the wealth of answers to some of life's most challenging questions.

One of the important questions answered in this passage is-- why do we suffer?

We learn from this passage from James that we suffer because in suffering we are tested. A test of how we perceive a situation. A test of how we react to a situation. A test of how we survive a situation.

I am sure that I speak for many of us when I say that some of my tests have been whoppers. Truth be told, I have probably failed more of them than I have passed. But (to use a school analogy), in this life, the grades do not matter. What matters is that we (1) come to class, (2) pay attention to the teacher, and (3) keep doing our homework.

This means that in life-- when your car breaks down, you don't lose your cool and scream at your family. This means that when your wife gets sick, you don't curse God. This means that when someone in your life fails you, you don't write them off as unimportant. Just think of all of the many ways that we suffer and are tested everyday.

Thank God for the Suffering.

Now, thank God because if we were not given these challenges (as unpleasant and difficult as they sometimes are) we would never have the opportunity to challenge our faith. Why would want to challenge our faith, you ask? Two good reasons: (1) to know that we have some, and (2) because a tested faith produces perseverance and makes us stronger.

Think about this. For most of us, when do we call God the loudest? We call on Him when we are in trouble. Truth is, for most of us, it is easy to get caught up in the world and our daily life and lose sight of what is even more real-- but harder to see.

Our life here is a journey with a series of tests. Each test moves us closer or farther away from God-- we chose. What the Letter of James tells us to do is simple: ask God for Wisdom and Faith because there is redemptive power in suffering.

We Should All Want to be Poor

The Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Jer. 17:5-8

Today's First Reading is from the Prophet Jeremiah. I could have chosen the Gospel to talk about today because it shares this same theme, but Jeremiah speaks loudly to me.

The prophet explains in very clear words how important it is for all of us to trust and rely on God and not on man or the things of this world. This notion can be a tall order when you think about the idea of trusting completely in one and in something that you can not see, touch or hear without eyes, hands and ears of faith.

But that is the beautiful thing about what Jeremiah is trying to explain. He uses the analogy of the faithful and trusting man as one who is like a tree planted in fertile ground and perpetually nourished by a life-giving stream. He says this type of man stays healthy (spiritually), is tranquil in temperament and always bears fruit.

Simple: Trust God.

Letting go of things can be hard. God wants us to use our intellect, judgment, and the resources and gifts He has given us-- but he does not want them to be the masters of us. I think of Jesus and the Beatitudes-- blessed are the poor in spirit. The whole notion of spiritual poverty had for a long time be somewhat of a mystery to me. In fact, Jesus celebrates the joy of the poor to whom he says that the Kingdom already belongs. What does this all mean?

At its essence, it is really quite simple. Poverty of Spirit simply means a state of mind that is voluntary humility. Speaking from experience, this can be very hard. But God, himself, calls us to this state of mind because to get to this state of mind-- you have to let go and just TRUST GOD. This means trusting him in everything. For a control freak like me, this is the ultimate test of obedience and love.

The Things We Rather Not Hear

Mk 7:31-37

This Gospel reading (meant for Friday, February 12) tells the story of when Jesus miraculously cures a deaf and speech-impaired man and enables him to speak clearly. Jesus pulls the man aside and performs the miracle by placing his finger in the man's ear and placing his own spittal on the man's tongue. Jesus asks, as He usually does, for the man to keep quiet about the incident. But as we know, news of the miraculous does not stay quiet for long.

It is easy put aside the Truth when we claim we can't hear it.

Think of the incredible compassion of Jesus in this situation. The sensitivity expressed in pulling the man aside showed that God had empathy for the man's plight. St. Gregory offers insight on the significance of Jesus using his finger to effectuate the cure of deafness. St. Gregory suggest s that the Spirit of God is called the "finger." In this experience, Jesus has opened the soul of the man through a gift of the Holy Spirit. By using His own spittal, Jesus connects personally with the man in a very intimate expression of solidarity.

This miracle was not only intended for the redemption of this poor man. It was also intended for us. Deaf or not, centuries later, we are meant to hear the healing message of the Holy Spirit.

If we allow ourselves to listen closely, there are things in our own life that are very uncomfortable to hear. But if we remember to compassion and solidarity offered by Our Lord, the Holy Spirit can heal us-- and perhaps bless us with the grace to tell about it.

A Clever Woman's Retort

Mk 7:24-30

Today's Gospel reading gives us some insight into the persona of Jesus, himself. We find him in Gentile territory trying to slink into a non descript home, likely trying to find a few respite moments. Instead, we find Jesus confronted by a desparate, Greek woman imploring Jesus for an excorism for her daughter.

In his coy sense of humor, Jesus rebutes the woman as a Gentile, unworthy of grace or favor. He suggests that Jews are the chosen children of God, and the Gentiles are merely the dogs at their feet. In fact, Jesus uses this insult to try to discourage her and push her away--suggesting that by asking for this grace, she is somehow stealing from the table of the children. But, this determined, cleaver woman turns Jesus' rebuke into an important lesson by simply stating that even dogs get scraps. She was right, and Jesus knew that, too. Her faith saved her and her daughter and opened up dialog on the important doctrine of the universality of salvation.

A Clever Woman's Retort Opens Up the Dialog

The message in this passage is very clear that salvation is a gift for all of us. But, I also take away another important lesson: it is important for all of us to be ready to respond to a challenge. Think of all the times in your life where someone criticized your values or beliefs. Have you been ready to defend the truth? If you are anything like me, you may have been ready to defend but not always ready to deliver. Sometimes I find that I can be on a six hour delay-- knowing just the right argument, but only hours too late. The moral of this story is to be strong in your convictions, but also be quick and clever in your delivery. Chances are that it won't be God on the other side of the argument, it will be the Enemy.

The Real Measure of a Man

Mk 7:14-23

Today's Gospel reading takes us to the scene where Jesus tries to explain the root of what defiles us, what spoils us, what makes us really rotten. Keep in mind what was going on was that Jesus was speaking to a Hebrew crowd who understood the customs of their elders and the strict rubrics that those customs demanded. Like the reading from yesterday, Jesus was teaching that God's design for holiness did not come from the mandates of man.

In today's reading, Jesus explains that man is not defiled (or made unclean or un-holy) by what he eats. Rather, man is doomed by what is inside of him and what comes out of him. Jesus explains that inside a man's heart, rests the real measure of the man. It is from a man's thoughts (or his heart) that come the rottenness of "evil thoughts, unchastity, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, licentiousness, envy, blasphemy, arrogance and folly." Likewise we can understand the goodness of a man by his ability and willingness to love.

The menu is liberated, but now what?

This is the whole point of our lives. We are all given the gift of some measure of time and experience to perfect our souls. We are all born with the indelible mark of original sin. But with baptism we are born into God's Kingdom and given a new life. This new life is a spiritual life. To tell you the truth, I never really understood this whole "born again" concept. But when you understand the purpose of your life is to perfect your soul, it becomes much easier to understand that baptism opens up the grace needed to perfect the rottenness and imperfections. It is an exhausting process, to be sure.

I am comforted in knowing that God has given us the sacraments for assistance and His very self as a model, guide and companion. He has also given us the communion of saints-- our friends who have come before us who have won their battle and stand ready to assist. I think of Saint Scholastica whose feast day is today. She was a model of sanctity, as all saints are. But she was also one of my favorite pragmatists.

I like to think of the story when she asked her brother (St. Benedict, no less) to stay with her one evening, as she had had a vision that that evening would be their last together on Earth. Saint Benedict did not want to stay because by staying he would be breaking an important rule of his Monastery. Then, in her wisdom, St. Scholastic asked her favor of God. Knowing the enormity of her love for her brother, God granted St. Scholastica a perfect storm that forced St. Benedict and his companions to stay the night. This is, of course, because God controls the weather. God saw to it that Monastery mandates did not rule over the generosity of God's love.

So centuries later, we look to Saint Scholastica for the assistance with the storms in our heart and pray for her intercession that we measure up to what God designed for us and we evidence who we are by what we do.

God Wants More Than Good Deeds

Mk 7:1-13

Today's Gospel reading relays the story of the Pharisees' reaction to Jesus and his disciples having come from the marketplace without purification and daring to eat with unclean hands. The Pharisees saw Jesus and his crew as a band of religious outlaws. There was great confusion and disdain for the notion that a renegade preacher and his students would dare veer from the tradition of the elders. In the eyes of the Pharisees, Jesus was dangerous, not only for what he did but for what he lead other men to do.

In our day in age, the moniker "Pharisee" is synonymous with the notion of "hypocrite." However, in ancient times, there were people who cherished the label for it was a stamp or outward sign that a person was "holy." But to Jesus, these outward signs and their associated pride was what was truly blasphemous. These men were putting aside God's commandments in order to cling to human traditions.

The more things change, the more they stay the same. . .

God only knows what is really in the human heart, and I am certainly not in any position to judge another. But, I can not help but observe the world around me. There seems so much inconsistency in all of us. Even people who seem well-meaning seem to sometimes miss the point.

I think of all of the celebrities who seep out at times of natural disaster. They harness the power of generosity to pay homage to the god of "good deeds." I think of the grandma that slinks out of Mass after communion only to cut off traffic dashing out of the parking lot. I think of the women who profess their faith but will not abandon the false notion of "human choice." I think of the people of seemingly good will who unabashedly debase the notion of family by attempting to rewrite God's own plan for love and life. I think of the millions of ways that I fall short of being the Christian I dream I can be.

The point is that we all fall short of the glory of God. What is important is the intention of our heart. If our intention is the affirmation of man, we fail just as the Pharisees failed. But if our intention is to love as God loves even when no one sees, we honor God with our lips and our hearts. This is Jesus' lesson to us.

Touching a Tassel - Suffering Brings Us Closer to God

Mk 6: 53-56

Today's Gospel reading tells a simple story about Jesus and the disciples being ambushed by throngs of desperate and suffering people. All these people wanted was an end to their suffering. They were looking for miracles-- looking for hope. They had heard of this miracle worker and trusted that just touching the tassel of his cloak would be enough to provide a cure.

Did they understand that this miracle-worker, Jesus, was really God? I am sure that they didn't. Did they understand that he was the promised Messiah? Maybe? Did they understand that the cure he was offering was much more than simply the curing of the body? Only God really knows the answer to that one.

Are we so very different in our day?

During Holy Week last year (2009), our five year old daughter mysteriously contracted a deadly virus that nearly killed her. She was hospitalized for almost half a year. As difficult as this experience was for our daughter and our entire family, I can say for certain that there is redemptive power in the suffering.

There is something remarkably powerful about the selfless prayers offered for a little child. We were the recipients of prayers and kindnesses from complete strangers and even those we knew who we never imagined gave thought to God. It seems like there is something in human nature that compels us toward God, whether we know it or not, especially in times of trouble or despair.

One of the greatest graces I have ever received was the grace needed to accept that our daughter was in God's care. I believe that this was the blessing given in recognition that our vigils, prayers and sacrifices had reached the tassels of God's cloak.

Not only was our daughter healed, but we all continue to heal-- both spirit and body.

Great Things Happen on Sundays

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Is 6:1-2a, 3-8

Isaiah tempts us with slivers of an image. We have to construct the picture. I imagine a world of candles and rugs-- dust and echos. Perhaps in your mind's eye you too can conjure an image from a database of Indiana Jones adventures or dusty National Geographics. Imagine what it might have smelled like-- the humidity and hint of incense. Now imagine THIS--

A billowing, floating white fabric train, set against and filling a dark cavernous hall, translucent figures swirling abuzz overhead-- and THEN:

"Holy, Holy Holy Lord -- All the Earth is filled with His Glory!"

The doorpost shook and hall filled with smoke. This was real, and this was terrifying.

I don't know about you-- but I think that that is the point where I would have completely lost it. In fact, that is exact what Isaiah did. He lost it. He fell to his knees in fear. I imagine this was the kind of gushing fear that causes your chest to hurt on account of the thrashing of your heart going wild. Isaiah was in the presence of the Creator of the Universe. He knew that he was not worthy. But in response to Isaiah's humility, God reached out to Isaiah through the seraphim who touched his lips and purged his sin.

Then God said, "Whom shall I send? Who will go for us?" Isaiah said:

"Here I am, send me."

What Isaiah saw with his eyes, we see with our eyes of faith. Each time we approach the Holy Eucharist, we understand the enormity of what Isaiah faced. With the contrite spirit of a sinner, we approach the Creator in awe and with the same humble heart --"holy, holy, holy Lord.... God of power and might. Heaven and Earth are full of Your glory."

This is the time we are at our most vulnerable-- when our souls are open and exposed. This is the most intimate embrace. Our souls reach out, and we lay our head on the breast of Our Lord, and say-- "here I am, send me."

Snowy Morning Start

There is nothing like a paralyzing blizzard to get me going. I have wanted to begin this blog for some time now, but the demands of a young family, career and theology school can be taxing. There seems like there is always some menu to plan, game to cheer on, deal to do or paper to write. That said, today is the day.

What Is This All About?

The purpose of this blog is to share insight and inspiration in simple and small ways-- to help understand the universal truth embedded in all our lives. These are my reflections on the Christian faith-- guided by the teachings of the Magisterium. So, when I get it wrong, the failings are mine. But when I get it right-- you know that I have been Vox Viva (the living voice).