Go With Him the Extra Mile

"Should anyone press you into service for one mile, go with him for two miles." (Matt. 5:41)

Sometimes I wonder if Jesus thought about Simon helping him to carry his Cross at the moment when he said that statement during his Sermon on the Mount.

What is brewing in my heart is the figurative "carrying of the cross." This is directly linked with some meditation on the Scripture concerning Our Lady: "And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart" (Lk 2:19). Mary, from the early moments of the conception of Christ by the Holy Spirit, finds herself the keeper of something special.

I wish there were words to express how I understand this. Analogously, she was given a garden to tend, a special, secret place, set aside from the eyes of the world. She was the guardian and protector of that little piece of land, and her charge was to keep it safe and to bring forth fruit. She tilled the soil and watered the ground as best she could, until she began to see the fruit of her labor springing up. And then when that fruit was ripened, she gave it away, that it might bring the nourishment to others that it was intended to give. She let go of something that she had spent years working on, caring for, guarding and tending, so that it could go and die. And in death, the seeds which were within it spread themselves far and wide, so that there was a rich harvest of new life brought forth from its death. And in that way, she saw the fulfillment of her work taking even greater measures than she could have hoped for when she first started to work. All of this, she kept in her heart. All of this work, growth and death, she witnessed with the eye of her mind and understood in the wisdom of her heart.

In the practical, Mary did experience what all pregnant women experience, which is a unique understanding of allowing life to grow within you, a life that is intrinsically linked to your own, and inherently dependent on you, and yet... is absolutely separate. There is a mind and heart, a body, organs, blood running through veins that are not yours; yet, they can only be there because of your mind, heart, organs, blood and body. It is a strange balance of a deep bond that is still separated by two bodies. Even while Our Lady had the Son of God growing and developing in her womb, she knew how completely "his own" he was. Even while she scarified her public status, her physical comfort, her appetite, her previous freedoms, all for the sake of the little being inside of her, she also knew and understood that this being was not hers.

This understanding of the unity between the mother and the child, but also the true and real distinction, followed and continued to grow in her heart as her child was born and matured. The Son, who at one time could not live without her physical presence, would grow to be a man who was completely independent of her. It is the human condition. Yet, she kept these things and reflected on them in her heart. I think it is safe to say that even when Jesus was far from her, traveling, preaching, teaching, living an independent life, she still knew something of that interior sense of union that she knew while he was inside her womb. I think this is what it means to "keep someone in your heart." Presumably, the most unique or profound experience of this "keeping someone in your heart" is possible for a mother and child. But even for those who simply love someone else, this is possible.

It is the profound "holding someone in your heart," even if they do not know of your love, or do not want your love, or simply cannot appreciate your love, that is what I think of concerning "going the extra mile" with someone. Many people, really all people, suffer. Many, or all, of the people we know and are acquainted with will carry heavy burdens at one point or another. Perhaps we will be able to help them. Perhaps the circumstances will allow us to make them meals, send cards, spend time with them to help them cope, give them a hug, etc... Perhaps the circumstances will be that we are hundreds of miles away, and we really cannot be a physical presence to them in their time of sorrow. What then?

This is where we can still go another mile with them, even if it is only in our hearts. We can carry them within. We can lift and shoulder the burden with them by remembering them in our prayers. We can make sacrifices and offer penances for their sake. We can turn daily to the Lord with our petition, and present them to him for healing, consolation, mercy and love. We can say, in essence, "Lord, as long as I live, and as long as I breathe, let each breath be part of my prayer to you for that person, for his or her sake." We can bear them in our mind and heart as we go through our daily work. In each circumstance, whether it is a joyful one or a sorrowful one, we can thank God and petition him on their behalf.

Is this not what a mother has to do for her child? Is that not what it really means to live for someone else? To go another mile with anyone, be it a spouse, a sibling, a parent, a child, a friend, or even a stranger, is to accept that the first thing we can do is to welcome that person into our hearts. Perhaps there are many other very real and physical things that we can do for that person. Perhaps there is nothing material or physical that we can do for that person. Either way, the first thing we must do is to take them into our hearts. There we can tend a little garden of empathy, of understanding, of patience, of mercy, of forgiveness, of prayer, of solidarity in suffering. There we can be a balm for the wound they bear, even if unknown to them.

We have to have faith, a faith that can bear fruit, so that what we bring into our hearts we offer to God for his cultivation. We have to imitate our Blessed Mother in bearing with her Son from the moment that his tiny body was growing within her until his body was pierced for us all on the Cross. Even there, her faith allowed her to hold the darkest of sufferings in her heart and to return it to God. And the seed that died bore such an abundant harvest! We have to believe that God can and will do good things with the prayers and petitions we offer, even if we never know about the fruit that comes from it.

Let us not be afraid, let us not even hesitate, to hold others in our hearts, and to go with them each mile that they need.

A Call for Mercy

The Lord Jesus Christ bent down and washed his traitor’s feet.

From the instrument of his torture and death, he said,
“Father, forgive them, they know not what they do” (Lk 23:34).

Saint Peter writes to us, “Above all, let your love for one another be intense,
because love covers a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:8).

Our choice for every day, in every circumstance, with every person, is if we will imitate our Lord and “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful” (Lk 6:36). 

What right have we, O worm, O dust, O sinner and hard-hearted self-server, to do anything other than recognize that we are to hand on what we have first received: forgiveness?

Let us invite every man and woman to an encounter with Christ precisely in the mercy we share.

Let us strive, as Blessed Charles de Foucauld, to live up to the Christian vocation, where the world will meet us and say, “If such is the servant, what must the Master be like?”

Patience is a vitrue...

So I believe most of us have heard that line before a time or two... or three.

Let's consider some of the other virtues.
Cardinal: Justice, Temperance, Fortitude, Prudence
Theological: Faith, Hope, Love

Patience, while logically a participant with the virtues above, is not on either list.
Where does it fit in the tradition, then?

I discovered through our trusty wikipedia (judge me a little) that the Psychomachia was a poem written in 410 AD by a Christian illustrating the seven deadly sins or vices and their virtuous counterparts. In this work, patience is the remedy for wrath.

However, the "angelic doctor," St. Thomas Aquinas, also wrote on patience in the Summa Theologica. He writes including patience under fortitude and temperance. He writes that it is not the most perfect of virtues (which is Charity), but that is is a virtue, and one which moderates sorrow.

I find this extremely interesting when we consider patience in the needs of our own lives. Drawing from my own experience and those close to me, patience is needing for some or all of the following in any given day: for long and exhausting traffic, for people who are oblivious and therefore injure you, inconvenience you, forget you, step on you, squish you, are rude to you, etc..., for the work day to pass, for deadlines to be accomplished, for proper responses from coworkers, employers, employees, students, etc..., for friends, for family, for boyfriends or girlfriends, fiances, husbands and wives, for kids, for cooking, for showering (depends on how lazy you feel), for working out, for results in any endeavor, for shopping, for reading, for writing, for playing sports, for practicing for rehearsals, concerts, an instrument, voice, sports, other fine skills, etc..., for glue to dry, for nails to dry, for clothes to dry, for baking, for crafts, for computers that don't work, for any technology, for conversations with others, for prayer, for cars that don't work, for anything broken, for Christmas trees that don't have stands, for wrapping presents, and on and on and on.

Really, what don't we need patience for?

This makes me ponder what patience itself is, then, if it is truly so common. Is it the waiting? Is it the understanding? Is it the process? Is it the calmness rather than aggravation? Is it the acceptance of what cannot be controlled?

Perhaps that is the beginning of what patience really is. Even before accepting what is beyond our control, we have to recognize what is beyond our control. How many times have I been yelling at the car in front of me to MOVE when I suddenly seem to remember that a) they can't hear me, b) if they could hear me it wouldn't matter anyway, and c) if I do end up any later at my destination because of this person, it is most likely going to be an unnoticeable amount of time, and therefore doesn't matter.

Once we recognize what is beyond our control, then we must accept it. Next, we wait for it to reveal itself, unveil itself, figure itself out, or whatever term is proper to the situation that means the power of action lies with the other and not with ourselves. Ideally, when we reach this point, we are more relaxed and calm. We are not always that way, but it certainly makes the waiting easier.

But to some, perhaps those of you who tend to be more proactive, this sounds much more like resignation than a virtue. The proper quote would be the serenity prayer. Yet, if you can't settle for the "wisdom to know the difference," let me break this down a little further.

I will give you a beautiful quote from Pope Benedict XVI that I believe encapsulates all I am trying to get at (but if I had given it to you at the beginning than there would be no point in a post):

"Waiting becomes too heavy a burden to bear, when we cannot be sure whether we really have anything at all to wait for. When, on the other hand, time itself is meaningful and every moment contains something especially valuable, our joyful anticipation of the greater experience that is still to come makes what we have in the present even more precious and we are carried by an invisible power beyond the present moment. Advent helps us to wait with precisely this kind of waiting."

There are two vital elements I want to point out in his quote.
First, waiting is active. The Holy Father presents waiting as if it is a choice. He refers to it as a "burden," which implies that it is something placed upon us or even required of us, and yet then adds the option of not carrying the burden in saying that we may not be sure that we have a reason to wait. Therefore, waiting, patience, requires an active choice. In this instance, not doing something, is doing something.

Second, there is an end in sight, or in mind. Waiting implies a goal, a resolution, a purpose. Waiting is not just an innominate and interminable wasteland stretching on beyond the horizon! Even for those whose waiting may seem just so, as may be the case for one who has an incurable illness or some other irreversible situation, it is not. There is and end. There is always an end. It helps, most certainly, when we have a goal or end that is both tangible and desirable. Waiting in traffic is worth it when it is the only way I get to work (and therefore have food to eat and to pay rent with) or home (where I may eat and sleep).

Yet, the end means more than only the finish line. When we really think about the patience and the goal, we realize that the goal informs the waiting. That is to say, our patience comes along with our comprehension of our end or goal, and our goal or end enables us to truly grab hold of and posses our patience. I am not going to sit by and watch glue dry on a tongue depressor unless I know that I'm building a little house. When I have this project in mind, watching glue dry is transformed from a seemingly silly and mindless activity into something done with precision and care. The image of the final product, my finished house, is ever before me while I work with the bare bones of the popsicle sticks.

If this isn't a practical enough example, think about little kids with leggos. At least for me, every Christmas is filled with some of my brothers rejoicing in the boxes of small plastic pieces that they are going to spend agonizing hours over while they follow directions included in the box to build the included plane, truck, movie scene, etc... Even a puzzle is the same concept! When we have the larger picture in mind, there is meaning in each of the small pieces.

Pope Benedict XVI wisely referred to this type of anticipation as the patience of Advent. Knowing what was coming, in the sense of the birth of our Lord, informed and enthused every moment leading up to that event. Though Our Lady certainly could not have known all that was to come, even the announcement by the angel was enough for her faith to know and believe that the Son of God was conceived in her womb and growing inside of her.

As a woman who has not had the privilege of being pregnant, I cannot conceive of what that must have been like. I imagine that the sense of anticipation and joy in life is always heightened. I imagine that every day I am more grateful for my own life as I become more aware of the other life that is entirely dependent on mine. I imagine that I will understand my own life in an entirely new sense. I imagine that I will look at my parents in a way I have not known before. I imagine that I will have a deeper respect and understanding for what it means for man to participate in God's creative work. For Our Lady, I am sure this was all a thousand times more potent for the miraculous conception of the Son of God in her womb by the Holy Spirit!

Though our waiting is not impregnated with the Word in the flesh, in a way it very seriously can be. Receiving the Lord, Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity in the Holy Eucharist every day is as close as we can come to knowing the potency and complete union of he Word of God living within us! The Anima Christi prayer includes the phrase, "Blood of Christ, inebriate me." That we may be inebriated with the life, the Blood of Jesus. That is a very serious and total informing of our waiting, of our patience. We ought not to tire of the waiting when it is filled with the life of God!

That is our challenge, and the exact point of patience as a virtue. It is not the resignation (while that is certainly sometimes required), but it is the life, the liveliness of the Christian while he or she waits! It is the vitality that flows within the veins of one who understands the whole of life in the most important context, in the crux of existence, in the light of the Incarnation and Paschal Mystery.

Patience is a virtue when and by we enter into the life of Christ. Let us not forget that while God became man, he too, waited. He too grew and developed, in a womb, as a child, as a youth and as an adult. He too had goals, and deadlines. He too knew what it was to yearn for something that could not immediately be. Jesus said in Luke 13:34-35, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how many times I yearned to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, but you were unwilling! Behold, your house will be abandoned. [But] I tell you, you will not see me until [the time comes when] you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’”

Christ knows the time is not the present for the accomplishment of his mission, and he accepts that and continues his mission, knowing that certain time will come. How much we have to learn from this!

If you have ever had the experience of getting what you want when you want it, even when you should have to wait for it, you may understand why the patience is so important for the overall life of the person. Too often we are given exactly what we want instantaneously, and in doing so, it is as if we are blinded to the authenticity and beauty of the other thing/person/experience. Much like when we turn a light on suddenly when our eyes have been adjusted to very dim light, we cannot see everything right away. Rather, if we gently increased the light so that our eyes adjusted accordingly, we would be able to see clearly the whole time. This is how important patience is. That we have true sight is more valuable than if we have the power to control.

In this time of Advent, and throughout our whole lives, let us keep before us the goal. Let Christ inform us, in every moment, and feed us with his Body and Blood so that we may know what it is to truly live. Let us be thankful for the many and very consistent opportunities we have each and every day to be patient, and ask the Holy Spirit for the grace and aid to advantageously learn from those times.

Sweet Lord, come to our aid! St. Thomas, pray for us.

O Burden, Why art thou?

Silly weight of the world, get off my shoulder!

You know, between the readings of mass emphasizing things such as persistence and humility and obedience and conversion and all of the personal aspects of my crazy life, I felt it was a good time to reflect on how to handle the weight of the world.

 

I think I'll call it a spiritual irony that I read "The Diary of a Country Priest" this semester as part of a book forum for my graduate studies. I will post an entire reflection on this book because it may be in my top five favorite of all time. However, as usual, I have no time and should be working on a 20 page paper. Yippee.  

I truly think that most people will find when reading this book (which I implore you to do) that they read their own hearts within the priest's story. His miserable littleness, and often thwarted works made him so severely aware of his failings. He simply seems to not possess any of the needed talents for being good at what he has set his life to do (serving his little community). 

Yet, they did not cause him to despair. In fact, he seems to become more reckless than ever as he realizes how little any good fruit that came was of him. 

Huh? You might ask. 

We need to be like this. Our hearts have to look at this (very sick) amount of work we have to do and just smile. For me it's the laundry list of reading and writing, along with all those pesky chores like feeding myself that never seem to go away. The thing is, it is not us who accomplish things. We try, we give our effort, even when our effort is minimal... but the Lord is the one who accomplishes. 

Some of my favorite Scripture passages that have been dancing around in my head concerning this are as follows:

"O LORD, you mete out peace to us, for it is you who have accomplished all we have done." - Isaiah 26:12

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me. In my Father's house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be. Where (I) am going you know the way." - Jn. 14:1-4

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD. As high as the heavens are above the earth, so high are my ways above your ways and my thoughts above your thoughts. For just as from the heavens the rain and snow come down And do not return there till they have watered the earth, making it fertile and fruitful, Giving seed to him who sows and bread to him who eats, So shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; It shall not return to me void, but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it." - Isaiah 55:8-11

The Gospel today was about the servants who were given certain gold coins and then who gave the master more on his return or the unfortunate one who buried the coin. It isn't really "suggested" or even "highly recommended" that we open our hands and trust that the Lord will fill them. That is the only way we can be a healthy part of the Body of Christ. I'm renewing the Consecration to Mary through the preparation of St. Louis de Montfort and today the reflection covered the apostles going to Jesus and saying, "Lord, teach us to pray as John taught his disciples." The humility present here, or perhaps more specifically, the child-like virtue, struck me deeply. I mean, really, how often do I think "I wish I knew how to pray"? Not too often, to be honest. But in response to such simple honesty, Christ gives such a gift! He tells them, "When you pray, say: Father, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread and forgive us our sins for we ourselves forgive everyone in debt to us, and do not subject us to the final test" (Lk 11:1-4). 

Please be struck with me! 'Hey, Jesus, how do you pray? What are we supposed to say? You tell us that the pharisees are being hypocritical, but that is all we've ever seen. What is the right way? How do we approach God?' And Christ says, 'Call him your Father. Honor and worship him. Be humble. Be his children. Yearn for the coming of his kingdom. Trust that he will give you all you need. Be contrite and ask forgiveness and forgive each other. Ask him to spare you and protect you from evil.' Seriously? 

Between God giving us graces/gifts/virtues/talents that we are meant to share and serve with (but not that we earn or merit - they are gifts!) and being taught to pray in a way that is an intimate and daily journey through life with God as Father, how could we ever get so wrapped up that we think things depend on us?? Oh, but we do! We do so very often. I know I do. And then the stress, the anxiety, the fear.. it eats us alive. I can't sleep on Sunday nights because every Monday there's that worry about all that must be accomplished. Really? I mean, we DO have to use what we are given and put our whole energies into things, I'm certainly not advocating laziness! But the difference is the peace in our hearts, and the peace in our hearts is regulated by our self awareness of God's perfect Love and mercy or our failure to acknowledge his power and goodness. He's either perfect love or he isn't. He's either all powerful or he isn't. He either humbled himself to shed his blood on a cross in Jerusalem 2,000 years ago so that we could live one day forever with him, or he didn't. Since I'm holding here that he DID, I think it's fair to say that it isn't up to us. The Lord will always provide, we need to go before him in faith. We need to humbly trust. We need to never lose hope.

One last word of Scripture for encouragement - 

"The eyes of the LORD are upon those who love him; he is their mighty shield and strong support, A shelter from the heat, a shade from the noonday sun, a guard against stumbling, a help against falling. He buoys up the spirits, brings a sparkle to the eyes, gives health and life and blessing." - Sirach 34:16-17

So get that dirt off your shoulder and keep your eyes fixed on Him.