St. Joseph: Lover of Poverty

[Note: The following is a reflection that was given on Monday night during St. Matthew's Lenten Holy Hour.]

I recently discovered an old traditional litany to St. Joseph. One of the titles that St. Joseph went by in this litany was "Lover of Poverty...St. Joseph, Lover of Poverty, pray for us!"

I have to admit, this title is somewhat peculiar to me. It sounds a little odd. Afterall, we are often made to think that it is bad to be poor and that only when we are rich, comfortable, and surrounded by material wealth and security that we will be truly happy and blessed.

But my friends, if we truly explore what our Catholic-Christian faith teaches us and if we look also to the example of St. Joseph, then we will quickly realize that true happiness and true blessedness comes in recognizing and embracing our poverty.

You might remember that Pope Francis was officially installed as the Bishop of Rome four years ago on the Feast of St. Joseph. Pope Francis has reminded us that we are to be a Church that is poor and a Church that is for the poor. We see this in how Pope Francis has chosen to live, shirking palaces in place of a hotel room - abandoning limousines and choosing simple cars.

But even more than embracing material poverty, Pope Francis has challenged us as a Church to recognize and embrace our spiritual poverty. We all struggle. We all sin. We all fall to our own plans, schemes, and desires. And yet we have been saved in and through God's love. We have experienced the Lord's profound gift of mercy. We are saved, not based on our own merit, but on God's goodness to us.

When we empty ourselves of those material possessions that distract us and make us competitive...when we empty ourselves of the need of being in charge of our lives...when we empty ourselves of ego, pride, and individualism...then we will find that our hearts are free and available to do the will of the Lord. In our poverty - in being poor, empty, and available - we find that we can better hear the voice of God in our lives.

This is why we can look to St. Joseph as our model of discipleship, as our model of embracing material and spiritual poverty. As a poor laborer, Joseph was empty of the material things that distract us from our living relationship with God. Joseph was empty of vengeance and cruelty when he found out Mary was pregnant. Joseph was empty of fear when he, with Mary and the child, fled to Egypt and escaped those violent forces that sought the life of Jesus. Joseph was empty of his own wants, dreams, and desires. In the poverty and emptiness of silence, Joseph was commissioned through an angelic voice to care for Mary and Jesus as husband and father.

St. Joseph reminds us that true blessedness lies in our poverty.

Tonight, as we sit here in silent adoration of our Eucharistic Lord, who himself chose to be poor, empty, and available in order to do the Father's will, let us take stock of how well we are embracing our call as baptized Christians to embrace and love our material and spiritual poverty. What might be getting in our way? What possessions or wealth holds us back from our commitment as disciples? What prevents us from being completely open to doing the will of God in our lives?

We may not always live up to our calling, but thankfully we have a God who is patient and merciful, a God who tenderly shows us how to embrace this poverty of spirit. And in St. Joseph, we have a role model, a patron, and a guide who shows us how to live in a spirit like Christ - free to do the will of the Father because he is poor, empty, and available.

St. Joseph, Lover of Poverty, pray for us!

Snow, Blizzards, and Forgiveness

It seems especially appropriate that during today's snow storm, we hear this from the prophet Isaiah in today's readings:

"Wash yourselves clean! Put away your misdeeds from before my eyes; cease doing evil; learn to do good. Make justice your aim: redress the wronged, hear the orphan's plea, defend the widow.

Come now, let us set things right, says the Lord: Though your sins be like scarlet, they may become white as snow; Though they be crimson red, they may become white as wool."

St. Matthew's Church, East Stroudsburg, PA

Let's remember all those who lack adequate warmth and shelter today. May we, as individuals and as society, work to address the coldness of injustice that we have shown to the poor, the homeless, and our marginalized sisters and brothers.

And remember that just as the snow blankets our yards, our streets, and our homes, so too does God's mercy and forgiveness blanket our sins, faults, and failings.

Stay warm and safe today!

Our Daily Crosses

[Note: The following is a reflection that was given on Monday night during St. Matthew's Parish Lenten Holy Hour.]

"Take up your cross daily and follow me." -(Luke 9:22-25)

Whenever I hear this Gospel that was just proclaimed, I think of a family I know well. The adult children care for their aging parents. When all is said and done, they might spend four or five hours each evening cooking, cleaning, and watching after their parents. All of this is on top of caring for their own families and careers. The siblings all admit that this is exhausting work at times, yet this is the task they have been called to do. And so, even though it is not always easy, they faithfully and lovingly attend to their parents' needs.

I also think of a young woman I know. At times, she suffers from anxiety and bouts of depression. Sometimes, life can be a challenge and burdensome. During these moments when the anxiety and depression are particularly strong, she struggles to maintain her faith. "I hate that I feel this way, but I can't help it. Why do I have to be the one with anxiety and depression?"

It is the Cross.

The Cross is an anomaly. It is counter-intuitive. St. Paul described the Cross as a scandal to Gentile and a stumbling-block to Jews. But the Cross - taking up our Cross daily - is what Jesus tells us tonight is the condition for our discipleship.

What does it mean for us to carry our Cross? In calling us to carry our Cross, Jesus asks of us to be aware of that which burdens us. We are to be in touch with the suffering we face in life, whether it is physical, emotional, or spiritual. We need not be ashamed or hide the Crosses in our life. It might seem counter-intuitive, but when we embrace our Cross and accept our humanity (and its limitations), we actually come closer to our God. Our Crosses remind us of our loving dependence on God!

The Crosses we carry daily, however, are only half the story. Our faith reminds us that in the Paschal Mystery, Christ Jesus carried his own Cross, bore the wounds of sin and suffering in the crucifixion, died, and was raised by the power of God's faithful love on the third day.  And just this past Sunday, we heard the Gospel account of the Transfiguration of the Lord. We were again reminded that Jesus' glorification can only be understood in light of his suffering on the Cross.

The Crosses we bear in life always lead us to encounter Jesus. And an encounter with Jesus always leads us to new life, a new direction, a new horizon. In dying to self and in taking up our Cross, we will experience new life in God.

"Jesus und Simon von Cyrene" by Sieger Köder

Now, we must clarify that God does not desire that we suffer God is not cruel or vengeful. God is not sadistic. Rather, God's love is so abundant, so overflowing, brimming over the surface, that it cannot be contained. God's love transforms all, even the darkest of nights and the heaviest of Crosses. We all carry our Crosses daily. No matter what form, shape, no matter how heavy, long-lasting or short-term, physical, emotional, or spiritual...we all have a Cross to carry!

But let us remember that Jesus has gone before us, that Jesus carried his own Cross. And now, during our Lenten journey, Jesus invites us to once again take up our Cross, to carry our own Cross, to embrace our Cross, to follow him. In doing so - in taking up our Cross daily to follow Jesus - we will soon find that Jesus actually walks alongside us. Jesus is there to help us bear the weight of our Cross, our life, our discipleship. Jesus is there to transform our Cross into something new, something transfigured, something salvific.

Mountains and Valleys

During this Second Sunday of Lent, we hear of the Transfiguration of Jesus on the mountain. In this moment, the fullness of Jesus' identity is revealed to James, John, and Peter. The fullness of power, glory, and perfection in Jesus come to light. On the mountain, Jesus is illumined as the Beloved Son of God and the fulfillment of the Law and Prophets.

We want to always dwell on the mountain with Jesus. We want to hold onto these "mountain experiences" of our faith. We want to cling onto a faith that makes God's love in Jesus so close, so tangible, so real. Peter recognizes the goodness of dwelling in this place: "Lord, it is good that we are here!"

But, we can't always live on the mountain. As a wise priest once told me, life is lived in the valley.

Jesus' glorious Transfiguration reveals him as the Beloved Son of God, the One coming into the world, the humble servant who leaves the place of power to dwell with humanity. The Transfiguration will only make sense in light of Jesus' ultimate act of sacrifice: his suffering and death. 

Jesus teaches James, John, and Peter - and indeed, all of us - that true glory comes from emptying ourselves in order to do the will of God the Father.

If we want to dwell in the glory of God on the mountaintop, then we must first live in the valley of our lives. It is there that we will encounter the joys and struggles of our human nature, our sinful and imperfect self, our need for wholeness. In the valley, we know that our interior lives are in need of transfiguration. In the valley, we will also find a world that is still in need of conversion and transformation. When we live in the valley, we come to see and recognize the needs of others. We follow the call of Pope Francis to leave a mark in the world, to make somebody else's life better because they have encountered us. 

As we move forward this Lenten season, let us continue to live in the valley. Let us dwell in the interior valley of our lives and accompany others through their own valley. This is difficult and challenging work at times. Yet, we need not be frightened, for we hear the words of Jesus spoken to the disciples on the mountain and echoed throughout time and history. These are the same words Jesus shares with us as we journey from the valley to the mountain and back: "Rise, and do not be afraid."

Love Has a Face

[Note: The following is a reflection that was given on Monday night during St. Matthew's Parish Lenten Holy Hour.]

During a recent conversation with Bishop Bambera, I asked the bishop which Scripture image or passage he recommended I pray with during Lent, especially as I prepare for ordination to the transitional diaconate. Without skipping a beat, he said, “Matthew 25.” Bishop Bambera then explained to me why he thought this passage was so important: “Matthew 25 points beyond a lofty idea of serving our neighbor. In Matthew 25, Jesus gives us a very tangible, concrete, and fleshy expression of how we are to serve others.”

Love is concrete. Love is tangible. Love has a face. 

My friends, during these first days of Lent, we begin by looking to the future. We look to our end, to our Final Judgment. The entirety of our Christian pilgrimage is directed toward loving our God. And our God is only loved when we authentically serve Him in our neighbor. This love is not a fluffy, vague notion, but it is made manifest through real, tangible expressions.

-If you ever changed a diaper for your child or for your elderly parent;

-If you have ever cooked a meal for anybody who was hungry;

-If you helped change the tire of somebody left stranded on the side of the road;

-Or if you once got a cup of coffee with somebody who was in desperate need of human companionship …then you have served your neighbor. You have loved God who is hidden in your neighbor.

I was recently with two of our homeless friends. They were describing for me the time when they washed and groomed the hair of their companion who lives in a tent. His friends jumped back and laughed at the sight. Their friend had a head of hair that made him look like Jesus with a halo. “Maybe it was Jesus,” one of them said. If only they knew. If only they realized! Yes, this was indeed Jesus! Any act of kindness, any act of mercy, any act of love directed towards our brothers and sisters is done to Jesus. 

Love is concrete. Love is tangible. Love has a face.  

It takes eyes of faith to truly see Jesus present in the faces of those whom we serve with great and small gestures of love. And tonight, before the Blessed Sacrament, we are also challenged once again to have eyes of faith – to believe that Jesus is truly and completely here – in body, blood, soul, and divinity. Jesus who is present in the monstrance and tabernacle, is the same Jesus we receive from the altar of the Lord, is the same Jesus who comes to us as our hungry, thirsty, poor, imprisoned, naked, sick, homeless, and vulnerable sisters and brothers.

Our love of God and our love of neighbor is never to be fragmented, exclusive, or separated. Let’s recall the words written by Pope-emeritus Benedict XVI, who wrote: “A Eucharist which does not pass over into the concrete practice of love is intrinsically fragmented.” Our time here in Adoration of the Lord is to lead us to adore the abiding presence of Jesus in the least of our brothers and sisters.

This journey of selfless service to others is a journey of a lifetime! We will never do it perfectly! We may not always experience immediate, satisfying results. We may not always enjoy what we are doing. Still, we are called to be faithful and humble in our task. We are called to see with eyes of faith that in loving others, we are also expressing our love for God.

And at the end of our earthly pilgrimage, we believe that the Lord Jesus will one day greet us with those words of profound joy: “Come you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world…for whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.”

Love is concrete. Love is tangible. Love has a face. 

Our Greatest Hunger

Jesus, what was your greatest hunger?

Was it self-sufficiency? Success? Power?

The desert wilderness is a lifeless and forsaken place. Yet, you were led there by God's Spirit. You must've been so hungry, so lonely, so vulnerable.

In that moment, the Evil One tried to dissuade you from your mission of proclaiming God's goodness, love, and salvation. The Evil One knew the humility and radical trust of your forthcoming mission and so he tapped into your deepest temptations, your deepest hungers.

Jesus, you were tempted to turn stone to bread. You could have done this. Easily. You were present at the creation of the cosmos. You are the Word from whom all receive life and existence. But you refused. You show us that our deepest hunger is to be radically dependent on God the Father. Everything - our food and drink, our clothing and homes, our jobs and families, our very life - is a gift from God. Jesus, you show us that we need not rely on ourselves, but that we can trust in God's generosity.

"Christ in the Desert" by Ivan Kramskoi

You were then tempted to jump off the highest point of the temple in Jerusalem. The Evil One reminded you that surely the angels would have intervened and protected you from any harm. And those who witnessed such a feat would surely recognize Jesus as the One sent from God! But Jesus, you again refuse. Did you know your mission would include being rejected by so many? Surely, you could have jumped and proven who you really were. You would have had many instant followers! But you trusted God's plan. It is not enough to be successful in your mission. Jesus, you teach us that faithfulness to God is greater than our vision of success.

And finally Jesus, the Evil One offered you authority over all the kingdoms of the world. Such immense and automatic power could have been yours, Jesus, if you only denied your mission. Did you know that you would tortured, and executed, and placed in a borrowed tomb? Power is surely more appetizing than powerlessness! Yet, you knew that true Lordship was won by renouncing yourself, taking up your cross, and following the Father's will. Jesus, you  overcame the temptation to hold and wield power. True power in the Kingdom of your Father means being the last, the least, and a servant.

In that desert wilderness, Jesus, you responded to the temptations of self-sufficiency, success, and power with faithfulness, trust, and selflessness. Help us to respond as you did, Jesus, for it is you alone who satisfy our greatest hunger.

The Heart of Lent

Ash Wednesday, as you know, marks the beginning of Lent. Throughout these forty days of Lent, we will recommit ourselves to our baptismal calling; we will recommit ourselves to following Jesus Christ.

This day - and this whole season - is marked by external signs of ashes, prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. And while these external signs are good and important, they ought to point to a deeper, interior reality. These external signs manifest our heart's internal desire for change, transformation, and a deeper relationship with God.

Our readings today are filled with images of the heart. From the prophet Joel, we hear: "Even now, says the Lord, return to me with your whole heart, with fasting, and weeping, and mourning. Rend your hearts, and not your garments." And from the psalmist, we hear: "Create a clean heart within me, O God."

Whenever the Scriptures refer to the heart, the biblical writers speak of the heart as that interior place where we encounter God and God encounters us. The heart is that "private room" that Jesus speaks about in today's Gospel, that place where God speaks to us and sees our heart's desire. The heart is the place of our deepest longing, the contact point with God.

Sometimes, we allow sin, bad habits, vices, our possessions to cloud our heart's mind. We place a barrier between ourselves and God. Lent is a time for us to re-examine our hearts, to make sure we are "heart healthy," to restore our hearts, to be focused on our God.

Our Lenten practices of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving allow us to rid ourselves of anything that hinders our hearts from being transformed by God. During Lent, we fast from those things which we don't need in order to feast on that which we were made for: God's life and love within us.

As we go forth this Lent, let us remember that our hearts will never be truly satisfied until they rest in God's love and peace. Our hearts will be restless until we experience once more the salvation brought to us through Jesus Christ. "Behold, now is a very acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation!"