The Saturday Morning Post: Spring Has Sprung

 March 20, 2021

Good Morning, God and All...

Spring Fever. March Madness. All of us have experienced our own version of these.

It was one year ago that we came to a new experience; one that we didn't want or ask for. We're still living that, now amplified by reminders that winter's back has been (for the most part) broken. Aren't we looking for any reason to break the chains under which we have been burdened for...forever, it seems?

I confess I haven't written in a couple of weeks. While I was indeed recovering from an infected fingernail, that is something of an excuse. I have been running dry in the reflection department. That's easy when the cycle of events continues to remind me of...(how can I best state it?)..."the waywardness that is ours". as the Church states so eloquently in one of her many prayers.

In a recent reflection I wrote that often Lent calls us to 'make room' for our spiritual life to grow. Much like spring cleaning, when we're able to open the windows and let fresher air in, so also it is a time to do the same thing in a spiritual sense. I might not necessarily appreciate the process when it happens, but in the end I experience the blessings that come with it.

Rather than writing, I have been reading. Facebook has been pleased to remind me of the reflections I posted there from years past, and also of the time before FB when I posted  regularly here. Yes, I unwittingly wrote them so that I would remember to read them when God felt I needed to, because in my feeble mind His holy Word simply wouldn't be enough. Not every one is a diamond in the rough, but none of them have ever been removed from my repository in cyberspace. I'm thankful it's still there, uncensored by anyone - especially me.

I have also been watching, looking for something refreshing as opposed to the airing of "classic" TV or the less satisfying current offerings on the tube. I found The Chosen. I don't know how I managed to miss it last year; maybe I was drowning in the sorrow that churches around the world had closed their doors to prevent spread of the pandemic - which was supposed to help 'flatten the curve in two weeks'. Needless to say that didn't work.

I found what so far has made Lent for me. The first season of eight shows is available to watch for free online. A second season will begin on Easter Sunday. Financial support to produce and air the program was done through crowdfunding. Millions have viewed the first season and are anticipating the show's return.

I am thankful for the opportunity to have seen this so far. More than a generic run through the Gospels or in a musical setting where the nuances can interfere with the storytelling, The Chosen appeals to me as a character study of the people who are part of the story. I won't go into great detail here - you really should see it for yourself. As with any retelling or reimagining of the Gospels, the producers have taken dramatic liberties in suggesting some of the characters' backstories and dialogue. All I can say to that is that nothing I've seen would have been impossible. 

I have been praying that hearts would be unlocked. Change is always difficult, especially when we are forced into it (as it seems we nearly always are). In the heat of the moment, frustration that undesired things are happening - or that desired things aren't happening fast enough - is all too common. But when I set the moment aside, giving it to God, I realize I am still His. I forget my troubles - including my place in the hymn I might be singing at the time.

The arrival of Spring is one big reminder that the glorious splendor of Easter is near. I don't intend to let it pass by, like I had to one year ago. I pray you take care, and recall the ultimate act of love for all of us...

...Until we meet again, may God be with us; and have mercy on us...

+the Phoenix

The Saturday Morning Post: Courtly Zeal for a Nearly Empty House Still Consumes Me

March 6, 2021

Good Morning, God and All...

Zeal for your house will consume me  (John 2:17; cf. Psalm 69:10).

Better one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere (Psalm 84:11).

Nearly a year has passed since the COVID-19 pandemic sent many of us into a sort of exile.

(Note: I'm largely avoiding the politicizing of the issue. At the moment what matters most to me is how it has shaped our relationship with God. I promise to be brief, even to the point of leaving thoughts incomplete as I'm still dealing with the aftereffects of an injury to one of my fingers, the tip of which is still a bit tender.)

From March until July last year, the House of God was off limits. The Church (at least in the US) closed their doors and the 'celebration' of Mass limited to broadcast and streaming media. 

I wrote back in 2009 about the passage from Saint John's Gospel referenced above; where Jesus displays (righteous) anger over, as he puts it, turning the House of God into a marketplace - or at the very least, putting the atmosphere of said marketplace ahead of a place of prayer and worship. Oddly, I mentioned that the Church of today did not discourage passersby the opportunity to enter and pray. I want to believe that there are still churches that are allowing this, given capacity and other restrictions still in place here and around the world.

I wrote back then about a sense of a museum-like atmosphere in our church buildings. You know, look but don't touch; don't stray from your group; refrain from excessive talking. If anything, the pandemic has added to this atmosphere. Face coverings keep us from singing and some from even saying "amen" to the prayers of the Mass. Capacity limits and the necessity of social distancing leaves us with hastily taped-up signs and roped-off seating. And that's once you get in. Sadly, many churches have locked their doors other than for scheduled services. 

Still, I was thankful when Catholic churches in my area were able to reopen. Other denominations chose to remain closed, relying strictly on live-streaming or parking lot worship from the (in)convenience of your automobile; even during the bitter cold of the winter now turning to spring. How those two verses from the Psalms, echoed by Jesus, have come to mean to me!

There's a popular Catholic hymn whose verses are drawn from four verses of the book of the Old Testament prophet Hosea. Its refrain still echoes today God's longing to reach out to us: Long have I waited for your coming home to me and living deeply our new life. What does this mean today, when access to God's 'home' is still restricted? And for some, decided against because of fears stemming from the pandemic? Well, let's start with God's longing for you, for me, for us. Shouldn't that open and deepen in us a longing for God? How is that longing to be satisfied if we make excuses and not efforts? How do we expect to be consumed by a loving God when we come up with any number of reasons to avoid going to Him, even in private prayer at home or wherever you are?

A year ago, we were suddenly cut off from God, here in the (supposed) "land of the living." This year, we are able - in reduced numbers - to offer our praise, air our concerns, and be fed by His Word on His 'turf.' But just as important, we are offered ways to bring God's home into ours. I pray that many who are sitting on the fence do this in spite of the many temptations that would draw us away. Who knows? Could it make for overflowing houses of worship when people finally determine it's safe to remove the signs, and the tape, and the ropes off the pews?

(I got a second wind...and I had actually wanted to offer a reflection on the next part last week but it would have taken forever to type it out one-handed. However, it dovetails in nicely here.)

To help satiate (at least for a time) this longing for God usually involves altering one or more patterns of our behavior, or habits. This is the longer and more accurate definition of self-sacrifice, or "giving up something" as a Lenten offering. I suggest giving some thought to the suggestions I offer below.

Make a realistic goal, and what steps to take to accomplish it. It's comparable to making New Year's resolutions, but on a spiritual level. Realize that it's an ongoing commitment. One should not abstain from sweets with the goal of losing ten pounds only to binge eat after Easter and put on fifteen. Now this doesn't mean you can't reward yourself - after all, as I've pointed out before, Sundays are always observed as reminders of the glorious resurrection of Christ and do not count as part of Lent's "forty" days. God rested on the Sabbath - and so should you. But if you're able, maintaining your commitment each and every day is possible by God's abundant grace.

It's not a competition. Don't try to do one big thing when a few smaller things can be more beneficial to others as well as yourself. There's always the annual running gag about Lenten give-ups, and trust me, the best ones have already been taken. As we've endured some difficult weather systems over the last few weeks, a few have suggested giving up winter for Lent. (Really, that will happen anyway and it's not under our direct control when.) Pope Benedict XVI made near the top of the list when he gave up (resigned) his office in 2013. Then there are those bent on giving up Lent as if it weren't there. Or worse - simply giving up. They need our prayers and ultimately encouragement to take up the mantle of making room for Christ in our hearts and homes. The biggest  give-up? That is to what our Lenten journey ultimately leads us - Jesus giving up his life on the Holy Cross for our sake.

It's never too late to start - but one should start somewhere. Don't be afraid to ask for help and keep asking. Jesus has promised that you will receive help along the way.

Until we meet again, may God be with you...and may God have mercy on us all...

+the Phoenix