Remain in Me

On Ash Wednesday I decided that for Lent I was going to focus on really improving one of my big flaws – and promptly everything that triggers that flaw was thrown at me. By Saturday I was in Confession telling the priest how poorly it was going. The priest gently stated that I was trying to do it myself instead of asking God to accomplish it in me. Oh, right. Message received. I responded, “Well Father, I guess I need to add pride to the list of sins in this confession.”

While praying in front of the Blessed Sacrament afterward, Jesus put the scripture into my heart, “I must decrease and He must increase.” (Jn 3:30)  These were the words of St. John the Baptist, but suddenly I saw how it applied to me personally.  The key for me was to stop trying to depend on myself, and instead become like a child depending completely on God.  The more I got out of the way, the more God could work in me.  I suddenly saw clearly how the saints achieved such holiness.  They did not do it on their own, they instead relied on the Lord.  The more they emptied themselves, the more God filled them. They embraced humility and God did the rest. Then I recalled a story about the humility of St. John Paul the Great.

At a retreat, a priest recounted his experience with Pope John Paul II when he was in seminary visiting Rome.  He had been instructed that the Pope would walk down the line and bless each of them and they weren’t supposed to converse with him because there were so many people and the Pope had limited time (according to them).  However, he had been on the street earlier that day and had met a beggar.  Embarrassed that he had no money to give, he offered to pray for the man.  The beggar then told him that he had been a priest.  The seminarian was so troubled about this that he blurted it out to the Pope when he came to bless him. The Pope instructed him to find the beggar and bring him to his personal office the following day.

The seminarian brought the beggar. The Pope received him and asked everyone else to leave the room.  When the beggar came out of the room, tears were streaming down his face. The seminarian and the priests asked what the Pope said to him.  The beggar responded, “He sat me down in a chair and kneeled in front of me and said, “Father, will you hear my confession?” Because of the humility of this saint, the beggar subsequently returned to his priestly vocation.

We are now at the end of Lent, entering the Holy Triduum. The Lord spoke again to my heart, “Remain in Me and I will remain in you”  — a confirmation of His earlier message. 

Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in Me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever remains in Me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without Me you can do nothing.  If you remain in Me and My words remain in you, ask for whatever you want and it will be done for you. By this is My Father glorified, that you bear much fruit and become My disciples. (Jn 15:5,7-8)

He is calling us to be saints. You think you don’t have what it takes? You are in good company – none of us do – without Him we can do nothing.  Just as the branch relies completely on the vine for strength, sustenance, and life, so too must we rely on Him.  Remain in Him and allow Him to work through us.  If we humble ourselves, God can fill us and He can make us saints.

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You Are The Salt of the Earth

Salt is an image that has been universally recognized throughout the ages and across all cultures.  As Christians we reflect on every meaning of salt and how we can apply it to our lives.

Salt has the ability to transform the taste of food.  When I eat raw bok choy, I find that with a dash of sea salt, the bitter edge becomes sweet.  The secret to cooking with salt is to use just enough to bring out other flavors; one should not taste the salt.  How many times have we experienced the gift of salt from others?  The people who clean the altar linens at Church for Sunday Mass, parents who do all the prep work for preschool art class or sew costumes for school plays, or the hosts and hostesses who prepare their homes to welcome holiday guests all do much more than we realize.  They are the salt that brings beauty to our lives.

Salt is humble.  It remains in the background not driven by need for recognition.  St. Thérèse of Lisieux is a perfect example. As a cloistered nun, she remained apart from society devoted to a life of prayer.  In her time very few people knew of her existence or the profound effect she would have on Christianity. She died at 24 years of age in 1897.  Her spiritual essays, collectively published as The Story of a Soul in 1898 outline a path to holiness that is so simple a child could grasp it: do all the little things with great love. 

As a mom raising young children I would have loved to say that I rose early every morning to pray a rosary before starting my day, but that was not my reality. My children did not nap and my younger one slept very poorly for years – which meant I slept poorly as well, tumbling into bed at night exhausted and falling asleep during the Apostles’ Creed; I hoarded every minute of sleep as a treasure.  St. Thérèse’s words showed me how to make a prayer out of my ordinary life. Whether I was doing laundry, scrubbing the toilet, or cooking a meal, I could offer these things to God with love and they would no longer be menial tasks, but prayers from the heart. Her advice transformed my perspective not only on what I was doing, but on how I valued myself and my contribution to the world.  I no longer saw myself the way American society views parents who work in the home; I saw myself as someone accomplishing the tasks God wanted me to do for love of Him and my family.  I found meaning in the smallness of my life.

Salt is vital for life. Salt helps regulate the water content in our bodies, helps maintain blood pressure, and assists in nerve and muscle function.  Without salt, we could not survive.  If we are to be this salt, we must understand that without Christ we have no eternal life and neither does anyone else. We are chosen to be witnesses for Him and bring those around us into life in Christ.  We are called to live our Christian faith so that we are a blessing to others. 

Jesus is also writing us a love letter. If we really pay attention to the Scripture, we can read what He means to tell us. Jesus sees our acts of love that no one else sees.  Nothing that we do is unimportant in His eyes. Salt is precious and so are we.  We are the ones with whom He wants to share His eternal life. We are the reason He came to earth, suffered, died, and resurrected. We are the beloved of God.

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Baptism in the Jordan

When we think of John the Baptist, we tend to picture a “fire and brimstone” preacher telling people to repent.  But the Baptism in the Jordan leads us in a better direction to reveal who John the Baptist was.  John was present when the Blessed Virgin Mary visited his mother Elizabeth.  He recognized his savior and leapt for joy in his mother’s womb.  From this moment we know that John was special. Luke 1:15 says “he will be filled with the Holy Spirit in his mother’s womb.”  The Holy Spirit filled John with sanctifying grace and he responded to this grace throughout his life.

John spent years fasting and praying.  Fasting magnifies our spiritual life and deepens our relationship with God far beyond what prayer alone can do.  Fasting allows us to see the things of God more clearly and be more open to the direction of the Holy Spirit.  So when John preached to the people, there was no doubt he was responding to the Holy Spirit.  And how does a preacher convince people to repent?  By being a force so full of love that people respond to him and his message.  He speaks in truth, yes, but also in love and mercy, drawing people in and inviting them into a deeper relationship with God.  In order to do this, John radiated peace, love, and joy.  He also radiated humility, “I am not worthy to untie the strap of his shoe.”  The people came to him in droves and confessed their sins.  As Catholics, we often choose to go to priests who connect with us, respond with love and understanding, and give us spiritual guidance. The people of John’s time were the same.  They came in droves because he did not condemn, but offered them love, hope, and mercy. 

St. John the Baptist was able to offer these gifts because he was a man of humility, the most misunderstood of the virtues. Humility is not putting ourselves down or wallowing in feelings of worthlessness.  On the contrary, humility is the grace to understand who God is as Creator, to know who we are as His creatures, and to see our neighbors as beloved souls created in the image and likeness of God.  In true humility we grow to love God more and seek a deeper relationship with Him.  Just as fasting magnifies our prayers, it also enables us to grow in humility, and as a result, experience the fruits of the Holy Spirit.  Because of John’s great humility, the Holy Spirit revealed the Messiah to him and he proclaimed for our benefit: “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world” (Jn 1:29).  He knew what most of Israel did not; he knew the Messiah would restore the people to the intimate relationship with God they had lost through Adam’s sin.

John’s call was a call to love, a call to willingly transform their hearts so that God could make His home there. The words of John still speak to us today, inviting us to transform our hearts through prayer and fasting.  Our Lord loves us so much that He offers us the same grace that He gave John — to come before Him face to face and experience the love that surpasses all others.  He humbles Himself in the form of bread and waits for us to approach in Eucharistic Adoration so that He may speak to us in the quiet of our hearts. And if we invite Him, He will make His home here.

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