The Fold

The Pope says we have to bring the lapsed back to the fold.  The fold seems to be getting pretty narrow with all the focus on rules, and who can receive and not receive communion.  It is not that rules are bad, but the "fold,"  what is left of it, seems to be focusing more on rules than love.  Jesus did say, come in through the narrow door.  He did speak about the narrow way and few will be on it.  I don't want to say that I know what he had in mind, but he did seem to break some rules in his effort to be loving and compassionate.  How many of the rule keepers who feel comfortable in today's church are also as loving and compassionate as was Jesus?  Personally, I find it easier to keep a rule than to be kind.  At my nightly examination of conscience I more often have been unkind, uncaring, selfish, self-centered, judgmental, and resentful, than having broken one of the church's rules or specific commandments.

Going Public

Did you ever walk down the street saying a rosary, with the beads dangling from your hand?  I do from time to time.  The reaction of others is quite fascinating.  They see me as they approach from the other direction.  They then look away.  They really look away.   I don't exist.  If I were dressed in some Buddhist or Hindu or Islamic garb, with my prayer beads in my hand, people would feel more comfortable.  Why?  Because these far away religions don't upset your status quo.  You never made a decision to give up being a Hindu, or studied and rejected Islam.  You were never persecuted by Islam for killing Jesus.  We Westerners have a history with Christianity.  My rosary calls that to mind.  I am a person praying a Christian prayer.  I am a Christian at prayer as I walk along the street minding my own business, but upsetting someone else's.  Suddenly, they realize that they are thinking about trivialities.  Suddenly, their priorities are called into question.  People have learned how to ignore the God inside the building, the church.  It is the unexpected presence of God that bothers them, in a person at prayer, walking on a neighborhood street.  

You Hate Sports?

My team just won the World Series.  You ask, "What is that?"  How sad.  Tell me what it is that unites a whole city in joy?  What brings together people who would not commonly mix?  And brings us together as one, with no hate, or politics or judgment?  Maybe your prefer religion.  Tell me that unites a city.  People kill one another over religion.  People judge, condemn, and ignore others over religious issues.  In baseball, they call it the "World" Series.  Yes, there were losers tonight, but the losing team is respected.  Baseball players are a brotherhood.  Would that religion was a bit more like baseball and the World Series.

God's Work

If you are having trouble finding Jesus in your life you might try being about God's work, which you can find in the Sermon on the Mount or Plain or in Matthew, chapter 25.  When Mary and Joseph thought they had lost Jesus did they not find him doing the "Father's work" in the temple scene?  Do God's work and maybe you will find Jesus too.

Familiarity Breeds What?

I have come to realize that most everyone who either lives or works with me, does not read my blog.  They know I have a blog.  They are not interested.  They might very well prefer to read some Vatican functionary or oracle.   It seems the better you know me, the less interested you are in what I have to say.  I am my own worst advertising.  I am much better from a distance, I guess.  From a podium in a lecture, or from the pulpit at mass, I am fine.  People listen.  But as an everyday guy, I seem to have no magic, no special wisdom.  Maybe it is my rabid interest in sports?  Or my whining?  Moodiness?  Come to think of it, I am a bit of a bozo!

But it is not just me.  Go back to that Vatican fellow you listen to, maybe some cardinal in the Curia.  He or they are far away, and walk about in strange garb.  I have found that those insiders, who know how the Vatican really functions, are much less impressed with the people you hold in high regard.  Maybe we all have a little bozo in us.  Otherwise, why would we need salvation?  How fascinating that God dwells in any of us.

Jesus' Campaign

The Gospel gives Jesus' campaign or message or good news as we call it.  But if it were really good news, more people would be doing it, right?  For many, it is bad news and they don't get on the Jesus bandwagon, or "vote" for Jesus, if you will.  Why?  well, Jesus seems to talk not so much about single issues that allow us to remain unchanged.  He talks about giving up a lot taking up a cross and following him.  He talks about caring directly, not in a donation, to caring for the least in our society, such as the hungry, homeless, poor and imprisoned.  Some of us prefer to waves banners at an issue, or vote for someone who agrees with our issue, but does that work "directly" with the suffering person?  Does it cost us anything in time?  Do we give up anything of our lifestyle?

I know of a church in town that is giving a Thanksgiving dinner for anyone who wants to come and eat it.  Tables will be set for a banquet. One single woman who had nowhere to go for Thanksgiving said, "I will come, as long as there are no homeless there."  She is a daily communicant.  Another person was heard to say, "I am against abortion, but I would not want the government to spend one welfare penny to support that mother once the baby is born."  Fortunately, Jesus never tried to run for office.  He would have been crucified.

My Friend

God is my friend, in spite of me.  I like to start my morning with the thought that God is my friend.  It is so easy to start with shame, regret and guilt, rehashing yesterday.  Why bother to get up?  I prefer to start the day with a positive thought even if I have to write it down next to my clock.  God is my friend.

I get up the with the best intentions of paying attention to my friend, spending time with God.  Often, due to ineptitude, laziness, over scheduling, and reading too much sports pages, I waste this friend time.  But God does not stop being my friend.  I suffer but not because God left me or punishes me.  I suffer because I am made to enjoy time with my friend, God.  A failure at prayer, I can still go to bed at night with a thank you to my friend for not abandoning me despite my shabby behavior.  I give God my shame, regret and guilt.  I go to sleep.  Life is too hard alone.  I wake up with hope.  I try again.  Some days, I get it right.  Aren't those the best of times?