Return to Tree

I was going to take a break from my usual reflective-type posts this week, and leave you with a picture of the Christmas Tree in Rockefeller Center.

For those of you that aren't in the NY area, I thought this would be a nice way to bring the tree to you.

But I feel like God wanted me to do more than that and go through the normal reflection.

So here goes ...

As you can see from the picture, I made my annual trek to the tree on a night full of rain and light snow. Part of me was disappointed at the less-than-ideal weather, while the other part was hoping some of that snow would stick to the tree. After all, what could be prettier than a 65-foot lighted tree with snow glistening from each branch?

Alas, the snow did not stick. And while the tree was as beautiful as always, I feel like my experience was less than optimal.

The more I thought about that experience, the more it reminded me of some Catholics this time of year. Like me to Rockefeller Center, they return to the Church year after year at Christmas-time.

And that's it.

Three hundred and sixty four days between visits (unless they also go for Easter).

Like that snow, it just doesn't stick. And while that day is probably beautiful for them, their overall experience with our Lord is less than optimal.

So I decided to start praying for those people this week. I pray for all those who only come to the Church a few times a year, and even more for those who have left the Church entirely. I pray that God guides them back regularly, so they can start living their lives more fully - the way He intended them to.

God Bless.

Pregnant + Desert - Epidural = Sacrifice

I love looking at Nativity scenes.

Mary and Joseph proudly looking over their Son, who is in swaddling clothes and nestled comfortably in a manger.

Wise men on one knee, presenting gifts to the new King.

Shepherds looking on in adoration, with a sheep or camel nearby.

Maybe even a single light bulb casting a soft glow over the entire set.

Those scenes are always so peaceful, but they betray the challenges that must have led up to that perfect moment.

Take the journey, for example. Bethlehem is about 90 miles from Nazareth. That journey must have taken over 5 days given the trail and Mary's advanced pregnancy. I've never been 8+ months pregnant or on a donkey in the desert, but I have a hunch the combination is probably extremely uncomfortable. I'm sure it was also littered with bandits, treacherous hazards, and extreme temperatures.

Or what about the delivery itself? In a stable? On hay? With animals around? And no drugs?

Let's not forget eight or nine months before all that, Mary had to find the courage to tell her parents and future husband that She was pregnant. Can you imagine how that conversation went, especially after She told them the Father was God? Not only was that probably a terrifying conversation, but one that could have led to her death!

And in between, I'm sure both Mary and Joseph had to overcome serious doubts, fears and concerns. What would the Son of God look like? Was He going to come out speaking? Glowing? Was it all really happening to them? How would they know what to say to Him? Would they be able to teach Him anything at all? Would He lead Israel in some kind of war? Would He be able to fly or walk on water?

I always take for granted that I know what happened thanks to Evangelists like Luke - but Mary and Joseph were running on 100% faith.

That's why every time I see a Nativity scene, I not only reflect on the birth of our Savior, but on the incredible sacrifices Mary and Joseph made, and the inspiring faith they had.

I hope you are having a blessed Advent.


P.S. I almost signed off without reminding you that Mary and Joseph went through all of that at the tender age of 16ish.

P.P.S. Stay tuned for follow up posts entitled "How to escape to Egypt when a king wants to kill your baby" and "Traveling through the desert with a Newborn"

From a Guy in a Red Suit to a Baby in Swaddling Clothes

Advent.

My, how that word has changed meaning for me over the years.

The word itself comes from the Latin word meaning "arrival" or "coming".

When I was a kid, the word Advent was always followed by the word calendar. And, unfortunately, back in those days, the only "arrival" I cared about was that of a portly old man with a red suit and some flying reindeer.

As I got a little older, I still viewed Advent as the "countdown" to my favorite day. But I also started to become more fascinated with the historical events that led up to Christ's birth. I started to spend more time trying to learn exactly what Mary and Joseph went through, what the real "Nativity" scene looked like, and what kind of clothes actually swaddled.

These days, now that I am wiser (cough cough) I finally appreciate Advent for what it is spiritually - a time to reflect on the amazing Gift our Father gave us on that Christmas Day, as well as a reminder to prepare for the next coming of our Savior.

To that end, I have been thinking a lot about the similarities between Christ's birth and His Second Coming.

No one knew when the Son of Man was coming the first time. They didn't know the time. They didn't know the place. They didn't even know the generation.

The truth of the matter is that the day the King of Kings was born, most people were probably going about their normal daily routines - good and bad. Worrying about money, events in town, and other worldly things.

Likewise, we don't know when Jesus will come again. Nor do we know when God will call us individually.

The best we can do is to make sure we are always prepared. Always ready. Always thinking about things important to God and the Kingdom.

Easier typed than done, of course. But at least these days, I am preparing for Jesus, instead of an imaginary man from the North Pole.

God Bless.

Thankful

Today, I am thankful for many, many things.

Here are three that are related to this blog:

1) I am thankful that I have "met" all of you that visit and comment here, and even more thankful that you help me spend more time with God. I am eternally grateful for that.

2) I am thankful that our forefathers founded this great country with gratitude to God and with a nod towards freedom of religion. It is partially because of them that I was able to attend Church this morning without fear.

3) Most of all, I am thankful that our Lord sent His only Son here to die for our sins. Thank you, Jesus, for giving us the greatest gift of all.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone. May God bless you and your families.

What Are We So Afraid Of?

Just about every survey result on people's greatest fears will list "death" in the top three. Usually, its numero uno.

I thought about that a lot this week, especially coming off last weekend's Gospel (Mk 13:24-32). Death, and the End of Time, are always described so ominously. It's no wonder just the thought of it worries us.

But should it?

Imagine if we got to interview someone who had passed away and gone to Heaven.

When asked what Heaven is like, I imagine they would tell us that Heaven is perfect. It is a place of beauty. A place of joy. There are no tears, no crying, no anxiety, and no pain. Angels rejoice. Love is abundant. Peace is overflowing. In short, it is Paradise.

But when asked what Earth was like, in retrospect, they might tell us it is a place of sin, anxiety, and sorrow. A place where there is little harmony, and even less peace. A place where there is far from enough prayer, love and honor. A place where people kill each other, born and unborn out of spite, fear, hatred, and greed. And a place where people worry about possessions more often than they worry about serving the Lord.

After those responses, we might be tempted to ask them one more question...

So, what exactly were you so afraid of again?

God Bless.

Reminders

The following was inspired by this very moving post by Christopher. My prayers to his family - both living and deceased.

The next time I find myself complaining about doing some sort of physical task, I will remind myself that there are plenty of people in this world who have debilitating injuries and would love to be able to fold laundry or mow a lawn.

The next time I wonder if I can squeeze a call to a friend or family member into my busy schedule, I will remind myself that there is a chance that person might not be around tomorrow.

The next time I think about putting in an extra hour in at the office, I will remember that no one, when on their deathbed, ever wishes they spent just one more hour working.

I will also remember that, when on that same bed, no one ever wishes for more money. They wish for more time.

The next time I feel hungry, I will remind myself that there are people in this world that wonder if they will eat at all today. Or even this week.

The next time I get annoyed that I have to fix something in my house, I will remember that some people only have a cardboard box between them and the elements. And 20 degree air hurts.

The next time I wonder how long mass is going to run, I will remind myself that there are many people on this earth that fear for their lives every time they step into a church. And they go anyway.

The next time I find myself whispering a hymn at that same mass, I will remind myself of this gentleman.

The next time I think I have a difficult decision to make I will remind myself about the decision Mary and Joseph had to make, the decision the Apostles had to make, and the decision Jesus had to make.

The next time I wonder if I can really do something to promote God's Kingdom, I will remind myself what a few fishermen and tax collectors did. Many without an education. Or the internet.

The next time I feel nervous about anything, I will remind myself what Jesus must have felt like at the Last Supper.

And the next time I wonder how much God really loves me, I will remind myself to look at the nearest crucifix.

God Bless.

If You Got One Wish

Last week's Gospel reading (Mark 10:46-52) was the story about Bartimaeus, a blind man who's persistence led Jesus to restore his sight.

Just about every homily and sermon I have heard on this passage highlights what great faith Bartimaeus showed. This is true, of course. People all around him were shouting at him and telling him to keep quiet. But he persisted. He kept calling for Jesus.

That in itself is a beautiful lesson for all of us.

But the part that always gives me pause is what happened next.

Jesus asked Bartimaeus "What do you want me to do for you?"

His response?

Sight.

Oh how I wish he had been like that thief crucified next to Jesus, and asked for a ticket to Paradise instead! I always wondered why this poor man wasted his "one wish" on such a physical, worldly thing, when he could have asked for something so much greater! After all, his sight came with an expiration date. But a place in the Kingdom would have been forever!

Of course, every time I lament about his "wish", I realize that there have been plenty of times in my life where I did the exact same thing. Times where I asked for - or worried about - silly things. Meaningless things. Times I pestered God for things that He knew weren't important. Times I should have been "asking" God for a seat at His table instead.

And so, whenever I hear this passage, I stop and thank Bartimaeus for giving me a lesson in persistence.

And then I thank him for, inadvertently, giving me a good dose of perspective as well.

God Bless.