Serving in the Divine Light

"Your word, O Lord, is truth: consecrate us in the truth." - John 17:17b,17a

Are there not days we wonder, "Does the Lord trust me too much?" Well, can He trust too much? No, for with trust, there is grace, and with grace there is much mercy, and with mercy there is much love—with much love, there truth rests.

Monday had startled me, immediately being thrust into an ongoing anxiety. Yet, it is the Lord who trusts imperfect instruments that we are. We can desire to delve deeper, to write more, and to share more, putting to paper with broad strokes of the pen the welling, the throbbing of our hearts. Within these lofty reflections, by God's grace, dwell His love and thus His truth. Yet, we are broken instruments, or, at least, flawed ones. Still, love must win out. We have been told this—no, SHOWN it!

Yes, it is so. He has shown it. Love has shown the Way. What other desirous act or thought should supplant it or surpass it? What human endeavor would increase the worth of life or existence if it was not first imbued with such grace? And these words today, "Bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh!" What searing words! We must let these words sink into our depths. It is not a competition with the Other. No, we are in competition in service to the Other!

We are a people called to service, to thinking of others more deserving the honor, the glory, the joy. Yet, He does fill our hearts with great joy, if we but let Him in.

We must let this golden light stream in each day, especially at the close. With our hearts open to this light, how can we not ourselves radiate this same joy to and for others? We are called to do it, and He himself has done it. He has promised it, if we but enter faithfully into this work.

Tuesday began a series of deepening introspection which gave even greater depth to this continuing gift of prayer and presence of the Beloved. He still trusts though imperfection. Through this imperfect response of ours, He trusts. This he does in a manifold series of ways, some more perceptible to our human eye or ear and others more sublimely.

One for me, as of late, are the dreamlike notes of the second movement of Beethoven's "Emperor" Concerto. They continue to resonate with me like a dream and, yet, here I am. It is no dream.

Like the Impressionist pieces by Claude Monet, such as the one above, Towing a Boat, Honfleur (1864), things focus at a distance and lose clarity up close. It is the paradox of the long distance view of joy. Pain seeps in as though points and sharp strokes of paint, yet the joyous picture is completed at a harmonious distance.

That is what I dwell upon recalling this week and the amber-lit evenings, as the sun drenched the church in those beautifully warm hues. I could not leave the place where I first beheld the beauty of the week nor the reminder of the Beloved as evening fell each day before the Presence of the Lord.

It felt as though the sunset of Creation, that dusk to darkness before the next day, the Renewal of our hearts before the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords. As every sunset shines, whether painted or seen, it shines back to the deathless sunset of the One who is our Light. We are called to reflect it.

Beauty Magnified

Beauty without sacrifice isn't beauty. It's a cheap illusion. The beauty of a rose comes with thorns, with little pains and sorrows. Beauty isn't diminished with the thorns—it's magnified.

Beauty uncrucified is a love that is missing its crown of thorns. A love without thorns is a love without service. Without service, love is empty words reserved for a dust heap, branches to be pruned, and blossoms withered.

With each day let us give thanks for beauty crowned with sacrifice and find joy within beauty that is tested and found worthy of Him. We are loved.

Novelty: "Do It Again!"

Novelty eventually wears off. Why? The reasons are plentiful, but the response required is a rather simple one: renewal. We as people require renewal because it is hard-coded into our being; we may like routines—those comfortable grooves—if everything goes well. At the slightest setback we declare them ruts. There is a middle way—a Catholic way—that unites the two in a symbiotic relationship as two sides of the same coin of existence.

It is to treat everything as novelty and everything with a sense of wonderment and with a desire for renewal. G.K. Chesterton, whose birthday is today, speaks of it when he describes children and their exclamation "Do it again!" until the grown-up is nearly dead.

I think this very much God's approach to us and our days, never tiring. We too must rise and say to the morning "Do it again!" We may not always have the vigor in this life to make all things novelties, but God has made all things new. Therefore, we are called to renew and be renewed. This is our view into Eternity.

"Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, "Do it again"; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, "Do it again" to the sun; and every evening, "Do it again" to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we." - G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy

Vocation: Moving from Despair into Mercy

Coming to dwell upon a momentary despair, one of the minor ones that precipitate a temptation to fall into a selfish burst, a moment turned inward—the following comes to mind, as though inspiration breathed in and a cool answer to a heated breath of dismay:

If one is tempted to self or unpurposed love of self, make an act of love in opposite, a small sacrifice of love—a prayer, a thought, a physical act (if possible) according to the state in life and relation, especially for those in the budding of vocation. Make it a point to cut against the grain, to rouse the senses to cooperation under the same mission as the intellect that ascends to and accepts in word a faith towards such a state, that begins in proto-form the desire to say "I do" or be consecrated towards the Kingdom at hand but needs a small act or, if you will, "a kiss to build a dream on." Make an act of love in this direction and in such a concrete way, even if the Beloved sees not. Do this, and you will have placed a brick upon the structure, the abode of love that you are building for the Other. Brick by brick, even if the Beloved does not accept such a gift, builds the home in which the Father bestows and desires each to dwell within. It is then a structure, an abode of love. Festooned with the flowers that burst into bloom and then fade as youth does, this abode will not later fade. Rather, it will be strengthened by each sweet act of charity. The investment being made will then pay dividends, not for oneself alone but—as one holding everything in common—for the community of believers. In this end, that immutable crown of glory will be yours and, with it, a Communion given by the One who has given it all, even His dearly beloved Son.

This is why it is right to say: "Conversion is where obedience turns into love."

So it is in pursuit, in the Courtship of the Daughter of the King... So must a "yes" be in preparation, for love requires a soil prepared in due time if the fruits of love are to be those that remain. Without Him, we can do nothing.

"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." - John 14:3-4

These words strike me... they hold me in a great peace. What has He prepared? Much! And yet Thomas questions. It is enough to be with Him along the Way, peaceful with the great good given each in their own way. This is gratitude.

I am reminded of last Sunday morning, in preparation for Mass and entering into and serving in the Mass. Looking beyond my place towards the Altar—and this among other reasons is why I love 8 AM Mass so much—the light pierced through the east-facing windows before me with its light resting upon the chalice and purificator spent. It was for me, a profound and yet sublime example of love. It was love in the hidden—in the invisible made visible. That is what the Blessed Sacrament is. It is love spent for the good of the people, multiplied, and distributed. It is the wedding banquet, and my heart was glad.

It is in these moments I find great solace and remembrance of His love, "for his mercy endures forever." Not only this, I remember those whom I am so bound in prayer and affection that tears of joy are recalled. I pray even now not out of a desire of being seen—this is the warning of Christ about the locked room of prayer—but out of deep reverence for the love He has placed for me that I am called to give in turn in specific, tender ways. These are like wounds that are opened and then re-heal, only to open again. This is the nature of compassion and of self-gift and love.

It is an honor to serve in lectoring at Mass, especially regarding last Sunday's reading and the rejoinder by St. Peter to be like "living stones." The greater gift received is the mere opportunity to see the work of God at work in us and through us that the light shines through and shows through the darkness of our own hearts His marvelous love. Namely, it is itself the receiving of Him in the Eucharist. There can be no greater, no further complete union of God and Man other than on Judgement Day. We must avail of it often and never grow weary to our need for conversion before approaching. Yet, through it all, we remember that "his mercy endures forever."

Amen.

The Banner of Love

There is great profundity in this thought: one's life is either spent day by day commiserating that it was another day lost OR another day growing towards one's Beloved—another day closer to being with one's Beloved.

Framing everything in this orientation leaves with it a perfume of profound grace, whether one is buried beneath the weightier concerns or rising above the fray to see the day of Communion, of Love, of Eternal Life. It is all work towards that daily wage; we must only realize we are on the Way.

Every desire must see this telos, and every movement of the heart towards the Other must have the Giver of all good gifts in mind and first beneath the Banner of Love. The quickest route is not the Banner of Success but rather the Banner of Love, which is where faithfulness and compassion reside.

One of the hardest things to avoid is that of envy, for at its heart is bitterness—the pride of being left out. Bitterness itself is the result of unripened fruit. It is fruit without the proper timing of maturation, of the rains and seasons in due time to produce the sweetness in life desired by all. This is why it is said, "one sows and another reaps" (cf. John 4:37).

It is also a process. Comparison of self can be a process of improvement—but never is this done by oneself alone. We are social beings. We are called to Communion. When one part suffers, all suffer. When one part rejoices, all rejoice. When one is exalted, all are exalted.

Let us rejoice with those in joy and endure with those who are suffering, so that all in the end, by God's good grace, may be exalted "for His mercy endures forever" (cf. Psalm 136).

"He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love." - Song of Songs 2:4

The Five Wounds of Christ

The Five Wounds of Christ are a very important area of devotion and a specifically helpful reality we ought to pray with, especially when meditating on the Life of Christ and gazing upon a crucifix. As it is, we share in His death with each of our struggles and hope to share with Him in His Resurrection for He Himself has conquered Death. Just so, we through the same mysteries can be united into His Passion, Death, and Resurrection mystically by meditating and applying these truths bound and renewed in faith as well as hope to our lives and offering these contemplations up to our Lord.

These Five Wounds, which become our own if we unite to Him in the struggle and sacrifice of the Cross, are of His Hands, His Feet, and His Sacred Side to His Sacred Heart. So it is, we are placed again in the formation and reopening of these wounds by our attachments to things not of Him, of distractions away from Him.

The first of these are of the Feet, ones that hold us from walking the Walk and of carrying the Good News to others. These are the wounds that keep us from fulfilling the Prophet Isaiah's words:

How beautiful upon the mountains
are the feet of the one bringing good news,
Announcing peace, bearing good news,
announcing salvation, saying to Zion,
“Your God is King!” - Isaiah 52:7

The first of these wounds is the attachment to the esteem of others and to the opinion of others over God. It is the easiest to be swayed in following after Christ in His will for us. It is the one proverbial stoked by peer pressure and wanting to be in the "in" crowd, wholly being dependent upon the capricious human nature of desire for high esteem and human praise. The second Wound of the Feet is that of attachments of self, attachments that turn ourselves inward and consist of little desires that slowly inch ourselves away from a God who is infinitely good and desires the best for us. It is this one that is shown most especially in sloth towards need or the endurance in the Way to the Lord. Both Wounds, when turned inward, give opportunity for failure and separation from the wounds He bore.

The next two, those of the Hands, are ones of attachments to our understanding, both of the Future and of the Present. The more we hold on to a future devoid of His will and a present that isn't counseled by Him, we because onerous and cantankerous. These Wounds both show a prideful streak, a desire to be right and of high rank without purpose or service towards others. These Wounds lack most in charity necessary for service to others. These Wounds also are manifested in the impatience or hostility we are prone to show instead of the docility, obedience, and patience we are called to show. These Wounds, if separated from Him, from handing on and embracing others in Christ and His Love.

And the fifth and final Wound—to the Sacred Side—reaches the Sacred Heart itself. This is manifested in the attachment to the Past. This Wound, separated from Christ, is what stops all things from movement and is often caused out of fear and the belief that the past failures cannot be overcome or that the Love of God cannot heal the contrite of heart. This is the most pernicious of lies since it attacks the very lifeblood of the Person: Hope in Him Who Is. This fearful pride fails to let Christ into the very wounds He bore for us in His Passion, Death, and Resurrection. We cannot live with Him if we do not die with Him. Suffering itself must be purposed and not feared, and love must be shown in spite of the suffering we endure because even with our pasts His mercy endures forever. We must go beyond our shortsighted fears towards the Eternal, being contrite of heart and moving towards Him who is Love.

"There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear because fear has to do with punishment, and so the one who fears is not yet perfect in love. We love because he first loved us." - 1 John 4:18-19

The beauty of these verses isn't because it somehow validates each us or even our love for one another blindly. On the contrary, it shows how much greater He is in giving. And we mustn't confuse the Gift from the Giver.

The rest of Scripture and Tradition hang on the verses here, not because they promote a false, warm-fuzzy peace with its cookie-cutter loves, as though there is a one-size-fits-all. No, it is on God's love that we stand on the edge of the cliff and chance the vertigo to look down from its heights in awe. We often fear the irrational but more so here the rational. We try to diminish His love and its effects, but it is still there, as stern as ever. He has sealed our hearts for His Sacred Heart in the courts above. Let us not delay in sharing in the suffering given to us for the Love He has stored up for us in Heaven above. His Wounds bear the marks beautifully of how far a distance God has come down to make His abode with us. Let us go out to meet Him through it all.

Catholic Beauty: Living as the Mystical Body of Christ

I recently had a family friend ask me why I was so drawn to the parish of Our Lady of Walsingham in Houston and the Ordinariate's Anglican Use Mass of the Latin Rite. I have no specific ties to Anglicanism and am cradle Catholic. However, it is precisely because I am Catholic that I am drawn to all of it, most especially the families wrapped in Our Lady's mantle for it. It is said from medieval times that England was—and still is—Mary's Dowry. To be Catholic is to be drawn in with anything that has that authentic beauty. It is imperative that we seek out authentic beauty and nurture it. Beauty is a compelling thing, but beauty also is most especially a person: Christ with His Mass through the Eucharist, in its varied reverent forms, are a reflection of Him, as His angels and saints are, as are those who show virtue in this life and extol the same.

The beauty of the holy ones and the holy places make all of the counterfeit examples dross in the same brilliant dazzling light. It makes the Mass, the prayers, and the devotionals all the more attractive. It furthers the desire to emulate and be near those who are "very members incorporate" of His Mystical Body, the Church.

Certainly, if I do all the good works He has prepared for me to enter into and avoid those near occasions of sin for the even nearer occasions of grace and endless beauty, I will not prosper for my own glory but His. It is all His after all, even if I am given the smallest amount for my use.

How can I be burdened with worry about what others have then? I speak of this as a projection; I am not even near this slightest perfection. How can I be even worried in the slightest when another is entrusted with something of great beauty or is entrusted with a beautiful love of another? I cannot question the heart of a cheerful giver, most especially the most cheerful of all givers and Father of all givers, the Almighty Himself.

So I cannot question, but I can still behold the beauty. Is this not the definition of a Christian? To behold the Beauty of Christ in all His forms? Love demands to be given, and we must give even when we are weary. The Beloved needs it, and He does not delay in giving us the love we need as our daily bread.

May we see this beauty as the Beloved and seek out to be Lovers in the ways God is generously calling us to be in our day to day movements of grace to one another. Let us not shy away from this Cross we are to bear with Him. Amen.

O the depths of His Presence... and the distance.

"Almighty and everliving God, we most heartily thank thee for that thou dost feed us, in these holy mysteries, with the spiritual food of the most precious Body and Blood of thy Son our Savior Jesus Christ: and dost assure us thereby of thy favor and goodness towards us; and that we are very members incorporate in the mystical body of thy Son, the blessed company of all faithful people; and are also heirs, through hope, of thy everlasting kingdom. And we humbly beseech thee, O heavenly Father, so to assist us with thy grace, that we may continue in that holy fellowship, and do all such good works as thou hast prepared for us to walk in; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with thee and the Holy Ghost, be all honor and glory, world without end. Amen." - The Post-Communion Prayer in the Anglican Use Liturgy of the Latin Rite