I'm writing for CATECHIST magazine!

Beginning with the current September issue, you will find my reflections on the Sunday Gospels in CATECHIST magazine in a monthly feature called:  “Sunday throughout the Week:  Lessons for the Sunday Gospels.”  I’m excited to be a part of CATECHIST magazine and its mission to support catechists with spiritual enrichment, classroom advice, useful materials, and creative ideas. 

CATECHIST has been around for a long time – I used to read all the old copies that Sr. Blanche left in her office when I was a D.R.E.!  Even the issues that were 10 years old (or older, God bless her!) were helpful to me.

The folks at CATECHIST have given me permission to publish one of my Gospel reflections per month on my blog.  This coming Sunday is Catechetical Sunday.  Many of you are catechists, so I wanted to share this Sunday’s reflection, with permission from CATECHIST magazine.

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September 20, Catechetical Sunday

Read:  Mark 9:30-37

Reflect: Although this week’s Gospel reading is simply a continuation of Mark’s narrative, it seems it was hand-picked for Catechetical Sunday! The lectionary has provided a lovely meditation for catechists on this special day.

As Mark’s Gospel narrative moves forward, Jesus continues to teach his disciples that suffering awaits him in Jerusalem. Mark plainly states that his disciples do not understand. In fact, their disregard for Jesus’ message is so profound that rather than taking his words to heart, they begin to argue with one another about which one of them is the greatest.

But it is this self-centered and woefully human argument that prompts a great teaching moment from Jesus—and a moment that catechists should treasure. In order to teach the disciples about true greatness, Jesus places a child in their midst. He embraces the child. And then he says something unbelievable: to receive this child—to love him, teach him, embrace him—is to love Jesus himself, and in loving Jesus, to love the Father.

This message is for you on this Catechetical Sunday. You are not a catechist for the glory or the greatness. You never expected that. You are a catechist for the sake of the little ones. When you receive them, you already know that you receive the Lord. In this story, the child represents all of those who are often overlooked or who seem unimportant in the eyes of the world. To serve such a one is true greatness. As a catechist, you already get it: “If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be . . . the servant of all.”

Ask Yourself:  How does my role as a catechist help me understand true greatness? Do I see Christ in the children I serve?

Ask Your Students:  Did you know that Jesus taught adults they could love God by loving children? Does this make sense to you? Why or why not?

Pray:  Lord Jesus, in my work as a catechist, I receive you as I receive the children in my life.

Reprinted with permission from CATECHIST magazine.  For subscription information visit, catechist.com. 

The Death of Our Loved Ones Makes Our Deaths Easier

When I was in 6th grade, on a beautiful day in September, my best friend’s mother died of cancer.  It was September 8, the feast day of the Birth of Mary.  My friend’s mother was a faithful Catholic, and her name was Mary.  I wanted to believe there was some connection.  I wanted to believe that death had meaning and purpose.  I wanted to believe that God had not abandoned this family.

This was my first real experience with death.  Watching my friend process and accept her mother’s death was an education.  I saw the pain in her family, but there was an undercurrent of hope that made it all just bearable.  Perhaps some measure of her mother’s own faith remained in the hearts of each member of the family, and they wisely clung to it.

Hope in God does not stop death – it did not stop the death of Jesus – but it provides a fuller perspective on living and dying.  It is the horizon that prevents us from becoming totally disoriented in an uncertain world.  It is the invitation to believe that the end of a temporal life is but the beginning of an eternal one.

When my grandmother died some years later, I clung to that same Christian hope.  I imagined her reuniting with all of her friends and family members who had passed on before her.  And I imagined our own reunion in the future.  I realized then that when my time came, my own death would be easier because I knew someone was waiting for me on the other side – a family member, someone close to me.  I realized that even in death our loved ones serve us.  Their death makes our own death easier.  They have gone before us to share in the triumph of Christ and the power of his resurrection.  With Christ, they say to us, “I go to prepare a place for you…so that where I am, there you may be also” (Jn. 14:3).

In the parish of my youth, tucked away in a side office, there was a cross on the wall.  On the cross was a placid but triumphant Christ the King.  Arms outstretched on what an old prayer called his “instrument of torture,” his face, his raiment, his body seemed to say, “Take that, death!  Look at me!  I am healthy and robust!  On this cross, I wear a crown!  For everlasting!”  It was an image of Christian hope, that orienting horizon.  

The pain of death is part of life, and we share it with those we love.  But our hope is in what comes next, in what we will share with them when our own time comes.  Our hope is in the triumph of Christ, the God who raised him from the dead, and the place he has prepared for all of us to be together. 

If it were not so, Jesus said, I would have told you (Jn. 14:2).  

Christian Hope Is Not a Ghost

“See, Christian hope is not a ghost and it does not deceive. It is…a gift from God that cannot be reduced to optimism, which is only human. God does not mislead hope; God cannot deny himself. God is all promise.”

-- Pope Francis, Interview with America Magazine, 2013

The Barrenness of Busyness and the Fruitlessness of Worry

If I asked a room full of contemporary Americans what plagues them most, I imagine many would identify busyness and worry as major culprits.  Demanding schedules and the stress of daily life are common contemporary burdens.  At some point, we all fall victim to their debilitating effects.

Socrates wrote:  “Beware the barrenness of a busy life.”  Another wise man – Jesus – taught:  “Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life?” (Mt. 6:27)

Of course, sometimes it is good to be busy.  We may be helping others, or working to make a living, or busily but happily fulfilling family responsibilities.  But being busy becomes a barren enterprise when our schedules are so full that we lose ourselves, we forget about God, and we miss the whole point of life.  We are totally disoriented but too busy to realize it!  When this happens, our lives become barren because we are running in circles but getting nowhere.  We are checking things off long lists, but deep inside ourselves, we are accomplishing nothing.

Like busyness, worry can have a valid role in our lives.  Sometimes worrying motivates us to care for others or accomplish something.  But worrying becomes fruitless when it paralyzes us, when it becomes all-consuming and prevents us from living, loving and growing.  When this happens, we begin to sink deeper and deeper into fears and “what-ifs.”  We move farther and farther away from the simplicity of the love commands, the comfort of trusting God, and the serenity of the peaceful life we all long for.

It is hard – perhaps impossible – to simply tell ourselves to stop worrying and then do it.  It is almost as hard to just stop being busy.  But if we feel that worry and busyness are getting the upper hand in our lives, perhaps it is time to have a conversation with God.  It is time to ask him:  “Am I too busy?  Is my family too busy?  What are we missing?  How is my worry affecting others?  How is it preventing me from being the person you want me to be?  How are my busyness and worry preventing me from loving you and others?” 

If we take these questions to prayer with open minds and hearts, we may be surprised by how God asks us to change our lives and by the peace he wishes to give us.  We may find ourselves reassessing our priorities and trusting God with our futures a bit more than we have in the past.  We may remember that prayer, in and of itself, is a simple antidote to a hectic, anxious life.

Busyness leads to barrenness, and worry to waste.  Instead, Jesus is always urging us to a fruitful life.  Let’s talk to him about it. 

Post Script:  As is usually the case, I’ve written this more as a reminder to myself than to you!  I always enjoy hearing from you – your own wisdom and experience are a source of learning and growth for me.  You can always leave me a comment on my blog page (click the title of this post and it will take you directly there -- scroll down and you will see a place to "comment") or on facebook.  Or you may reply directly to this email if you prefer that your comment be read only by me and not be published online.

Vincent van Gogh, Wheatfield under Thunderclouds

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? 27 And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? 28 And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, 29 yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. 30 But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ 32 For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. 33 But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.  34 So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today” (Mt. 6:25-34).

Parents' Prayer

Picasso, Mother and Child, 1922

God our Father, you love us with the tender yet demanding love of a good parent.  Your enduring love embraces us as we are; your creative love calls us forth to grow and change.  Help us as parents to imitate your tenderness and love.  May we embrace our children just as they are and encourage them forward to grow and change.  Help us to guide them with consistency and compassion so they may grow up to be responsible and kind, joyful and faithful.  Fill us with your Spirit of wisdom that we may act as faithful companions and able guides, leading them by the hand into the beauty of your presence, the happiness of your friendship, and the peace of your eternal embrace.  Amen.