Un amigo me envió esta reflexión escrita por su santidad, León XIV. Bain tacto y por tanto la comparto con ustedes esta semana.

 

 

Papa León (XIV)

 

Hermanos y hermanas, a ustedes hablo, sobre todo aquel que no cree, que no espera. que piensa que Dios se fue.

 

A los que están hartos del poder mal usado, del silencio de una Iglesia, que a veces parece más un palacio que casa.

 

Yo también me enojé con Dios. Yo también vi morir gente buena, sufrir a niños, llorar a los abuelos sin medicina.

 

Si, hubo días en que recé y sentí solo eco

 

Pero luego escuché algo: Dios no grita, Dios susurra

 

  Y a veces susurra desde el barro, desde el dolor, desde una abuela que te da de comer sin tener nada

 

Yo no vengo ofrecerles una fe perfecta,

Vengo a decirles que la fe es una caminata con piedras, charcos y abrazos inesperados.

 

No pido que crean en todo. Te pido que que no cierres la puerta. Que le des una oportunidad a Dios que te espera sin juzgarte.

 

Soy sólo un cura que vió a Dios en la sonrisa de una mujer que perdió un hijo… Aún así cocinaba para los demás

 

Eso me cambió

 

Así si es que si estás roto, si no crees, si estás cansado de las mentiras…

Ven  igual, conn tu rabia, con tu duda, con tu mochila sucia.

 

Aquí nadie va a pedirte la tarjeta de VIP

 

Por qué esta Iglesia, mientras yo suspiré, será para los que no tienen casa y será descanso para los que están agobiados

 

Dios no necesita soldados, necesita hermanos.

 

Tú, si tú

 

Roberto Prevost. (Leon XIV)

 

Ask and You Really Will Receive

 

I don’t get it.  I asked for my loved to be healed, and yet they died.  I don’t get it.  I asked for my financial situation to be resolved, and yet I am still in mounds of debt.  I don’t get it.  I asked God to help me pass the test, and yet my grade was a big fat F.  I asked for that special Christmas present when I was five years old, and yet that puppy was not under the Christmas tree.  The Gospel says, “Ask and you shall you receive.”    So often we find ourselves asking and seemingly not receiving.  Perhaps in all those moments, we actually have received.

I would like to bring this now to a very personal level.  I share this, in hope that you might come to realize that our Father truly gives us what we need.  My mother was born in 1941.  At the age of four, she was diagnosed with Type 1, Juvenile Diabetes.  For so many who live with this disease, it is a lifetime of living with the difficult maintenance of insulin/sugar levels and the many complications that come with it.  This was particularly true for someone who dealt with the disease in the years my mother did.  I still today see her sitting at our kitchen table preparing the syringe of insulin she had to take.  In those days, those were real needles, long and sharp.  Each day, she would inject one into her thigh.  Many days, she would not be feeling well, because of sugar levels that were off.  This would throw her immune system into chaos and everyday illnesses would become exacerbated.

In time, mom would develop other illnesses, including heart and vascular issues and breast cancer, which led to a double mastectomy.  Through all of it, she had a positive attitude, never looking for pity.  She never wanted any of us, her family members, to limit the joys of our own lives because of her sufferings.  The simple things in life, like reading and sewing, became sources of great joy in her own life.

The culmination of her life of suffering would come in the period from 1997 to 1998.  While she experienced great joy at the birth of her first grandson, my son, in April of 1997, the months that followed would bring some serious acute medical issues.  Incurable infections on her legs led to the ultimate need to amputate parts of both of those legs.  Her body fought against this and she entered into cardiac distress,  In April of 1998, as the one year birthday of her grandson approached, she was hospitalized in intensive care, needing the help of medical technology to keep her alive.

And so I asked.  In fact, I remembered today’s words of Jesus, “Ask and you shall receive.”  I asked that she be saved.  I wanted her to go on physically living and being with us.  I wanted her to see her grandson and any future grandchildren grow up.  And so I asked, and yet my prayer seemed to go unanswered.  On April 9^th, 1998, the Lord called her home.

At first, to me, it was like I had asked for an egg and got a scorpion.  I had asked for a fish and got a snake.  I knocked and the door was closed tight.  So many, including perhaps many of you reading this reflection, have had similar experiences.

It would take me months and perhaps years to realize the truth that God had indeed answered my prayers.  For in her death, that which had led to my mother’s physical incompleteness, if you will, was defeated.  She was whole again, in the comfort of the Lord’s loving embrace.  And while I did not have my mother physically with me any longer, I was given so much.  For I had the experience of witnessing her own endurance through a lifetime of suffering.  This would be with me always to help me through the challenges of my own life.  I was still experiencing my mother’s love.  I had the reality of the ultimate hope, and by that, I don’t mean wishful thinking that things would get better.  No, I mean the ultimate hope in eternal life, won for us by our savior.  I was confident my mother was getting to experience that in the present moment and for all eternity, and someday, if it is God’s will, so will I.

The one whom we get to call Father never gives a scorpion or a snake.  He is indeed opening the door for us.  Thank you, Father, for hearing our prayers.

 

-            The Servant

 

 

16^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Genesis 18:1-10a

Luke 10:38-42

 

In last week’s gospel we heard, once again, the Shema – the Jewish prayer that is the underpinning of our Judeo-Christian faith, which is also the basis of Jesus’ command to love God above all, and to love one another as he has loved us. (See, Matthew 22:36-40).

 

To recap:  We are to love the Lord, our God, with all our heart, with all our being, with all, our strength, and with all our mind, and our neighbor as ourselves. (See, Luke 10:25-27.)

 

In today’s gospel, as well as in today’s first reading, we see examples of that.  In Genesis we see Abraham going out of his way to be generous and gracious in his abiding hospitality to the three strangers.  He goes above and beyond.  Abraham, it could be said, is demonstrating his love of God by being hospitable to the strangers with all his heart, with all his being, with all his strength, and with all his mind.

 

Similarly, Martha’s hospitality to Jesus and the others present is total.  Her love is so strong that she gives 100% in making sure that they are taken care of.  It is the way she chooses to love – and live – her faith.

 

Now, each of these two examples may pale in comparison to the Good Samaritan who demonstrated an incredible amount of pity, compassion and mercy in coming to the aid of the man who was robbed and beaten. True, the acts of Abraham and Martha might not be as dramatic, but they are no less important, because they reveal what is deepest in their hearts.

 

Having said that, Martha’s seeming obsession with hospitality appears to be put down by Jesus when he declares that Mary has chosen “the better part.”   I think we need to look more deeply at that.  I don’t believe that Jesus feels that Martha’s hospitality is less important.  I think he recognizes that this is Martha’s unique way of, as it were, anointing Jesus’ feet with perfume and wiping them with her hair. (See, Luke 7:36-50; John 12: 1-8.)  Over the top, perhaps, but a demonstration of love and faith.  The vexing part, I believe, is that Martha complains about Mary and, thus, judges Mary.  Martha believes that her way of showing love and faith is the only important way.  Martha doesn’t appreciate that Mary’s undivided attention to Jesus is her way of loving Jesus with all her heart, being, strength and mind.

 

How do I choose to love God with all my heart, being, strength and mind?  Am I like Martha (and Abraham, for that matter), always wanting to do, to serve?  Or am I more like Mary, wanting to listen and learn?  It really doesn’t matter, does it?  There’s no one way.  Whatever is my way is always best, because it is authentic.  It is honest. It comes from the heart.

 

The important question is:  Am I like Martha in judging others for not being more like me?  If so, my hospitality is not inviting, it is excluding.  And that is not loving others like Jesus loves me.

 

 

 

“Call Me Ishmael”

Loving your neighbor.

 

In this week’s Gospel: 

Luke 10:25–37 Jesus uses the Parable of the Good Samaritan to show what it means to be a true follower of Christ.

A lawyer stood up to question Jesus. He asked, “How can one receive eternal life?”

Jesus responded with a question of His own: “What is written in the law?”

The lawyer answered,

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, strength, and mind, and love your neighbor as yourself.”

Jesus said, “Do this, and you will live.”

But that wasn’t enough for the lawyer. So he asked a follow-up question:

“Who is my neighbor?”

This is when Jesus shared the parable to make His point.

The parable tells of a man who was beaten and robbed while traveling. He was left half-dead on the side of the road.

• A priest passed by but avoided him.
• A Levite did the same.
• But a Samaritan, of all people, saw the man, stopped, and took care of him.

The one who was least expected to show compassion showed the most.

Jesus then asked,

“Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man?”

The lawyer replied,

“The one who showed him mercy.”

Jesus said,

“Go and do likewise.”

This parable is a perfect example of what we are called to do as followers of Christ: love your neighbor.

That’s the message. That’s the way we are to live.

Ask yourself:

➡️ Do you love your neighbors?

➡️ Do you love them the way Jesus calls you to — as you love yourself?

Let me be the first to admit: I have work to do.

I say I love my neighbors, but do I really love them as I love myself?

That’s the work.

Truthfully, I often love when it’s easy. I love when it suits me.

But Jesus didn’t say “Love when it’s convenient.” He said “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

And just to be clear — when I speak of neighbors, I mean the people I work with, live with, and see regularly, my world  

Like the priest, I’ve passed people by when they needed me.

Like the Levite, I’ve looked the other way.

But I know I can do better. I continue to work on myself.

Jesus calls us to be like the Good Samaritan.

That means we show up.

We show up even when it’s not easy.

We show up even when we’re overlooked or misunderstood.

We show up when our neighbor can’t repay us.

Can you imagine a world like that?

It’s hard to see sometimes — but that’s the world Jesus wants for us.

A world where each person truly loves the other.

We look past race. We look past politics.

We just love.

Maybe we can’t change the entire world.

But we can start with our world.

Start with one neighbor.

Find a neighbor to love.