What fills your heart with joy?
There are few piercing and more intimate questions than this one when answered with vulnerability. It is not the same question as what makes you happy because we have many things that make us happy: eating delicious food, completing all the tasks on your to-do list for the day, listening to your favorite band or connecting with a stranger, etc..
The question about what brings us joy delves into a deeper level of meaning and what we value. For a parent, it might be the sight of seeing one’s children sleeping contently. It might be the recognition that you have had an impact on someone else’s life in a positive way. For Christians, we believe the source of our joy is beholding God. Joy might come upon us in our prayer. Joy comes also when we look at another person or creation and see God through them. In those moments, we possess God for whom we long in the deepest core of our being. Jesus reminds us that God desires to bring us this joy: “ask and you will receive, so that your joy may be complete.”
Joy is the impulse that moves us to help others find joy in the Lord. Our joy will be sowed in the tears of those grieving or going through a troubling addiction. Shouts of praise or decrying injustice for the marginalized are other ways our joy might manifest. Joy will be our witness to the truth that God has indeed come to redeem his people from death and slavery to sin. The question, what fills your heart with joy, could be answered in as many ways as there are people. Whenever we experience joy, we partake in the joy of the Risen Christ, who rejoices in beholding us no matter in what condition we are. Let us pray for the grace to live our Christian vocation with joy.
What fills your heart with joy? What does your joy lead you to do? Where do you see God in your joyous experiences?
St. Phillip Neri (1515-1595) was canonized on March 12, 1622 with three other Spanish saints: St. Teresa of Avila, St. Francis Xavier, and St. Ignatius of Loyola. All four saints were contemporaries of one another. St. Teresa probably never had contact with the other three because she lived in a Carmelite monastery. The other three were friends with another. Phillip was a man known by his infectious joy and easy-going nature. He was a much sought for confessor by the people of Rome, where he primarily ministered, and was an engaging conversationalist. For these qualities, Ignatius tried to recruit Phillip to join the fledgling Society of Jesus. Phillip was also attracted to the missionary spirit of Francis Xavier who was to go to India to preach the Gospel. Phillip discerned with the help of a spiritual confidant that Italy was to be his India.
Phillip started a religious movement called the Priest and Brothers of the Oratory. The Oratory movement sought to establish communities of priests and brothers committed to serving a local area. Unlike other religious orders, members of an oratory community do not profess vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Rather, Phillip Neri designed the oratory that no other bond than love would compel the members to stay. For Phillip, the bond of love radiated in his life with the palpable sense of joy he carried with him. It is joy that led to generosity of spirit and time in Phillip’s life. He is attributed as saying: “Well, my brothers, when shall we begin to do good?”
As we draw closer to the end of the liturgical season of Easter, let us continue to pray for God to bring us the joy of Christ’s Resurrection. We pray for this consolation as it was in St. Phillip Neri’s life to lead us outward from ourselves to all who we encounter.
How has the joy of the Resurrection manifested in my life?
The end of a house visit usually ends when I see the host or feel myself tired. The conversation winds down to a closing script, which politely ushers a person out. I leave in order that the host and I may get on with our normal routines. The Ascension of Jesus could seem similar on the surface. However, the departure of Jesus as a physical person seems the last thing the fledging Church would need in order to fulfill its mission. It is also the last thing Jesus’s disciples, as his friends, would have desired.
Jesus does not leave so that his disciples may return to their normal daily patterns. Instead, he charges them with the deepest dream of the Father: that all his children may be united in faith. It is not a dream he desires to do on his own, but invites us to partake in his activity. As Jesus ascends in his physical form, we are able to see more clearly that we are untied through and with Christ in a Mystical Body spread across all the peoples of the world. To bring God’s dream to reality and to live out fully our participation in Christ’s Mystical Body requires of us to ask God for help to overcome the barriers in ourselves and others to be united in faith.
When Jesus ascended, the disciples, as we do now, cannot return to things as normal. We have a renewed sense of our call from God to heal and bring others to him. We are reminded again of who we are in and through Christ. God desires a world for us transformed through faith. We must face the world in the places where it is marked by sectarian misunderstanding, enmity, and violence. Let us pray that the Lord transform our hearts where the seeds of division grow too. May we demonstrate the faith we have in God to others since God has placed his trust in us.
Where or when have you felt united in faith to the whole Church or the human family? What actions did this experience prompt you to do? How did you look differently at another person different from you?
Wednesday of the Sixth Week of Easter
The early Jesuit missionaries were scattered across the globe from Japan to South America. When they encountered new peoples and cultures, they had to rely upon their spiritual formation, especially through their retreat experience of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola. One fundamental insight of Ignatius was that God relates directly to His creatures. In the minds of the missionaries, they were meeting with people who already had an existent relationship with God, albeit without the Christian formulation of our faith tradition. This predisposition to see where God was already led to the creation of local churches that incorporated new cultures and traditions. The historic failures and injustices perpetuated by Catholic missionary practices treated non-European cultures without dignity and equality.
St. Ignatius’s insight is a later echo of St. Paul’s missionary work in Athens. Paul proclaims to the Athenians that they have been worshipping an unnamed God who was truly the Christian god. Historians debate whether there was an actual altar to an unnamed God on the Areopagus, but Paul’s idea was similar to Ignatius: look to where God is already at work in a people. Paul describes God desiring for all people to be united to Him. “He made from one the whole human race to dwell on the entire surface of the earth, and he fixed the ordered seasons and the boundaries of their regions, so that people might seek God, even perhaps grope for him and find him, though indeed he is not far from any one of us.” Everything God does is so that we might seek Him, and others might find Him through our actions and words.
This predisposition to understand where God is already at work in another’s life is not only expedient for the Church’s past. The Church must adopt this disposition for our current time. As our communities are divided in ideological, racial, or socioeconomic lines, we need to look to where God is present. We need to open ourselves to the person on the other side of the “us vs. them” or the “I vs. you” dichotomies. We are called to embrace fellow human beings as sisters and brothers, each seeking the Lord in his or her life.
When have you recognized the work of the Lord in another’s life?
Tuesday of the Sixth Week of Easter
When my Jesuit classmates and I started to preach, we were told to be mindful of the sections of daily Scriptural passages we wanted to avoid in our reflections. The places we want to skip over are the areas where the Lord is usually asking us to ponder more intently. I was reminded of this message when I looked at the end of today’s Gospel reading.
Jesus describes the activity of the Holy Spirit: “And when he comes he will convict the world in regard to sin and righteousness and condemnation.” The word conviction in other contexts normally implies a sense of accusation, and leads to a sense of superiority for the accuser. The image of the Spirit convicting the world would appear to run contrary to the image of the Spirit as encourager and comforter. Also, Pope Francis has been guiding the Church to think about our mission as attracting people to Christ; convicting the world seems counterproductive to that goal.
Another way to translate the verb to convict in this passage is as to expose. Jesus also describes the Holy Spirit as the Spirit of Truth (Jn 14:17). The Spirit reveals the deepest truths about humanity that conflict with first appearances. People of faith, through the Spirit’s presence, see that the world is in desperate need of the gifts of the Spirit. The first step of exposing the world to the truth of the Resurrection is embodying the Resurrection as a Church. We are called to be convinced about the topics of sin, righteousness, and condemnation, as mentioned in the Gospel.
For sin, are we convinced that the root of sin lies in the human heart’s separation from God?
For righteousness, are we convinced that Jesus reveals the loving nature of the Father for all creation?
For condemnation, are we convinced that death, all the forces that oppress people, and the devil have been conquered in the Resurrection?
If we are truthful, we all would have to admit that we are convinced some of the time. We stumble. We forget. We are filled with doubts and uncertainty. The Church gives us the Easter Season to continue to pray in order to see the world in the truth of the Resurrection.
Reflect on these three questions. Where do you feel unconvinced in some capacity? Pray for the Spirit’s guidance and light.
Monday of the Sixth Week of Easter
In our Gospel reading today, we continue to hear Jesus’s promise of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is called the “advocate” which translates the Greek word παράκλητος (or, paraclete in English). The word advocate has many connotations to it: the intercessor who speaks for another in a court of law, the one who encourages, or the one who comforts.
It is fitting that the word advocate carries a few different translations in order to capture the ways we experience the Holy Spirit. We feel the Spirit as the one who speaks on behalf of us. The Spirit gives us interior strength and courage when faced with a difficult decision. The Spirit comes to us when we fail so as to remind us that we can do nothing to make God love us less.
The Holy Spirit is often someone I experience through others’ actions or words. We all have had someone in our lives who has encouraged us to strive to be ourselves, and to be a moral and just individual. I have provided an inventory of different types of individuals who carry the Holy Spirit to us. As you read the list, thank God for the gift of the Holy Spirit that comes to us from others, either in the past or in the present.
For Parents or Guardians,
For Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, and Grandparents,
For Co-Workers and Colleagues,
For Doctors and Nurses,
For Counselors and Therapists,
For Mentors and Advisors,
For Pastors and Pastoral Leaders,
For specific others in your life . . . Amen.
The varied social media platforms available currently allow us to share our lives with an increasingly wider circle of individuals. Our thoughts and feelings are expressed in tweets and Facebook wall posts; our experiences in photos for Instagram and in videos for Snapchat stories. Like anything else, social media has a shadow side with all the good it causes in connecting people. The chance to broadcast ourselves often comes with a related task of deciding what version of our selves to project.
We struggle to share personal mistakes, or that a marriage is going through harder times. It is difficult to lay bare one’s insecurities, fears, or the deepest desires of our hearts where we believe God is active. Playing the projection game for so long we can become distant from ourselves as well as other people in a sense.
One of the promises Christ tells us in the Gospel today is his Spirit will be close to us (“But you know him, because he remains with you and will be in you.”). When he says close, he means intimately close. The Holy Spirit dwells within a human person. Along with our stream of thoughts and feelings, the Holy Spirit is present in our psyche guiding us to open ourselves further to God’s gift of grace. We are able to hide nothing from God. While that might strike fear in our hearts, it also demonstrates the strength of God’s love. God loves us for the things we would not tweet, Instagram, or record for others to see.
When we pray with the hidden areas of our lives, we entrust our true selves to God. This type of prayer is nerve racking at first. Our guilt and shame prevents us from imaging God wants us back. This prayer leads to the openness to experience the risen life of Jesus. It might be the risen Christ life that comes in a resurgence of gratitude, addressing destructive and harmful habits, or more concern for the marginalized in our world. Wherever we experience guilt, shame, and death, we wait for the life that Christ enjoys and shares with us. As we continue to journey together during this Easter season, let us pray with the areas of our hearts the joy of Easter has yet to touch.
Where is a hidden area of your life that you have been timid to share with God? What would help in sharing this area with God?
Solemnity of the Annunciation
In the Office of Readings in the Liturgy of the Hours, a letter from St. Leo the Great is included for the Solemnity of Annunciation. It is a beautiful letter that expresses well the tension within the mystery of the Incarnation: that God takes on human nature and flesh in order to save humanity. One of his descriptions for the event of the annunciation stood out to me. He describes it as the “condescension of compassion.” Condescension is not a pejorative term. Literally, the word means to “come down.” God does not come to condemn but to suffer with humanity in the sin we have introduced into the world. This coming of compassion would not have come into the world if it not were for Mary. Mary’s “yes” enabled God to take on our human nature and fulfill his Mission.
With a mystery so profound in our Christian tradition, I do not think it will be of much profit to write about it. Rather, I have included and adaptation of St. Ignatius’s meditation on the Annunciation from the Spiritual Exercises. When you have a quiet moment this day, pray with imaging the scene in your mind’s eye. Ask yourself: what would possess God to save humanity? What would possess Mary to say “yes”?
Hear what the persons on the face of the earth are saying, that is, how they are talking with one another, how they sneer and blaspheme, etc.;
Hear what the Divine Persons are saying, that is: “Let Us work the redemption of the Human race,” etc.; and then what the Angel and Our Lady are saying; and reflect then so as to draw profit from their words.
What are the Angel and Our Lady doing? See the Angel doing his duty as ambassador, and Our Lady humbling herself by giving thanks to the Divine Majesty. Watch as she says “yes” to the Angel. What are the movements in her heart? Reflect in order to draw some profit from each of these things.
An unhelpful depiction of the Christian mystical life floats around in the Christian subconscious. The image runs like this: for someone to be truly holy, he or she must slowly become divorced from concern of the world. The paradigmatic example, in this depiction, is the hermit. He has removed himself from most social contact with the world, and he has time to focus on God alone. To some extent, each of us Christians have judged ourselves against what we see as a mystical “high bar.”
Our Gospel passage debunks this depiction of the mystical life. Jesus teaches us that the love of God is the greatest commandment we ought to follow. Giving our whole self in return to God is an act of gratitude to the one who has made creation for us to enjoy. The second greatest commandment is the love of neighbor. These loves are not mutually exclusive. In our Christian vocation, the two grow in us correlatively because we become like the one we love. In the activity of loving, we open ourselves to be concerned with another more than ourselves. When we love God, we become like God. We take on God’s concerns and God’s vision of the other persons in our lives. The apex of Christian mysticism is not other-worldly visions but seeing our world in another way.
The marks of our Lenten season echo the mutual growth of both love of God and neighbor. With our prayers and fasting, we recognize that God is the source of every gift we have received; everything that we are has come to us from God. Almsgiving and service to our sisters and brothers who need assistance develops in us God’s loving gaze. The poor are the most intimate concern for God. We are invited to make a similar commitment. Let us pray that this Lenten season increase in us a love that integrates both the desires of our heart—for God and for one another.
How has your love of God grown during this Lent? Your love for neighbor?
Jesus states a binary situation at the conclusion of our Gospel passage today. “Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters.” I am usually skeptical of binary thinking. With an “us” versus “them” dichotomy, we end up splitting the world into divisions that prevent mutual understanding. Do not get me wrong me, binary thinking is good in some cases, like thinking there are objective moral goods and evils. A shadow of binary thinking is that it prevents discernment and adaptation from happening for a particular person or case.
Jesus’ statement induces a conscious or unconscious worry in Christians. Spiritual directors and confessors hear it when people come to them explaining how they are worried to get on God’s bad side. The feeling is that a person is either for God by living the perfect moral life or against God through committing sins. The foretaste of the eternal punishment for sin is perpetual misery in this life.
If we all are honest with ourselves, there is some part in each one of us that is against God and some part that is for God. As human beings, we constantly fall into instances where we have a divided will—we simultaneously will what we know is good for us and not good for us. God’s grace in our hearts heals our will and unifies it. We pray for our will to be integrated with God’s dream for us, a parent’s wish for the fullness of life for her child.
The binary that Jesus offers us exhorts us to whole-heartedness. The scene reminds me of the scenes in movies when an army captain tries to rouse courage in the troops before the final battle. The battle ground for us is the places within our hearts that want to fight God and not surrender to grace. If we want to see someone who is against Jesus, we need to look no farther than a mirror at ourselves. If we want to see someone who is for Jesus, look in the mirror again. Let us make our prayer this day to ask God to help us surrender those places of our heart that want to resist God.
How have I surrendered to God’s grace this Lent? Where do I feel my will is divided.