Relationships that bring Discomfort

"In the spiritual life, we can’t only have friends, people with common interests who don’t necessarily draw us closer to our authentic selves and God. Such relationships can be a great gift, an oasis of refreshment throughout life’s arduous journey, but we have to be wary of only these types of relationships. The type of relationships—or community—that can feed us and lure us closer to God is the type that isn’t afraid to challenge us, admonish us, lift an unwavering mirror up to our eyes to reveal our faults in fullness for the sake of helping us overcome them through grace. These are relationships that bring discomfort.

True community embodies the type of relationships that ask us to relinquish some of our aloneness and autonomy. Community invites us to delve into the messy life of human relationships that won’t always make us feel good, shattering the ego-crafted mirage that we know all too well when left to our own devices. I struggle mightily with this because I take solace in my excessive aloneness. I can be quite fond of this state of lukewarm limbo, enjoying the benefits of being with others, having certain friendships, but not submitting myself to the type of relationships that will force me to be accountable. I can do as I please. And I can rest securely in the knowledge that no one else is keeping tabs. Yet, in isolation, slowly and inconspicuously, I begin to lose sense of who I am."

 
 The words above are from an article entitled "Why We So Desperately Need Community" (which can be found here).  As you can probably glean from the quote, it highlights the part of our fallen nature that desires to be left alone and live on our own little islands.  It also presents God's response to this selfish desire, a call to community.

 Look - I do not enjoy sticky situations.  I do my best to avoid conflict.  I often finds ways to leave the room when I sense things are getting a little uncomfortable.  It's just easier to have my own opinions, clearly thought out and justified in my own mind, and hold them in silence.  I'm guessing that most of you reading this feel the same way. 

Yet, God is good.  He continues to pursue me.  He weasels his way into my thoughts and relationships and pushes me to lean into the discomfort - even convincing me at times to do crazy things like seek it out or instigate it!  And He puts people in my life that do the same thing to me.

I'm learning to be thankful for the relationships in my life that bring discomfort.  And so today I want to thank

  - the guys who sit at my PX90 table
  - my CRHP brothers
  - the couples in my TOOLS team
  - you who read these posts and question what is written
  - our Priests who ask questions of me in their homilies
  - my wife who often, in good will, questions my decisions
  - My children, who often ask my 'Why?'

These are the people who keep pushing me to be the man God created me to be.  It's through these relationships alone that I have grown and born fruit.

Who can you thank in your life for bringing you discomfort? 

an enduring thanksgiving …

Miracles are everyday occurrences, … 

                                                           recognizing them is not.

Years ago, while a seminarian in my only year of theology, one of my ministries was working with special needs kids in a town nestled on the fringes of the Appalachian hills.  Twice each week, I’d drive from St. Meinrad’s Seminary in south central Indiana to a small community school serving an area with a statistically high incidence of children with terminal conditions unfortunately linked to inner-family marriage.

      Ms. Cindy, a robust, jovial educator, introduced me to her rambunctious group as “Mr. Tim.”   Quickly, Ryan, a skinny seven year old wearing a converted bike helmet, staggered toward me ricocheting off a bookcase, colliding with chairs, and stomping through a tub of crayons.  I reached to steady him just as an annoying buzzer startled the little renegade to pause, gather his balance and continue into my open arms!

“I love you, Mr. Tim!” Smiling ear to ear, he steadied himself wobbling away.

THE MASS: OUR ULTIMATE PRAYER

by Fred Vilbig

The greatest prayer that we as Catholics ever pray is the Mass. The Second Vatican Council referred to the Mass as the “source and summit” of our faith. At the Last Supper, Our Lord said, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you….” (Luke 22:15.) He instructed us to “do this in memory of me.” (Luke 22:19.)

This tradition has continued unbroken since the time of Jesus. Paul talks about how he received the Eucharistic tradition from the Lord Himself. (1 Corinthians 11:23-26.) In about the year 155, St. Justin Martyr wrote his First Apology. It contains a simple but rather detailed description of the Mass that sounds basically like the Sacrament we celebrate today.

So the Mass is, and since the Last Supper has been, the center of our worship as Catholics. But it’s even more than that. In The Lamb’s Supper, Scott Hahn explains how St. John’s vision of heaven in the Book of Revelation is actually a Eucharistic feast. The vision occurs on the Lord’s Day. There is an altar. There is a Lamb (a symbol of Christ) that appears to have been slain. There are prayers offered. So according to the Book of Revelation, there is a Mass in heaven.

But what does that mean to you and me? God is the creator of everything around us: the birds, the trees, the stars, space itself, and even time. Since He created time, He is outside of time. He is not constrained by it.

Jesus, as God, is also not subject to time, per se. Yes, he became man, emptying Himself of His Divinity (Philippians 2:7), but in His Person, He was not and is not subject to time. For that reason, the Last Supper and the Crucifixion occurred both in time and outside of time.

On Calvary, Jesus sacrificed Himself for the salvation of the world. During His lifetime, He told us to follow Him. He told us that each day we must deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow Him. (Luke 9:23.) We are called to the Cross with Jesus. It is almost beyond belief, but Jesus wants us sacramentally to join Him on the Cross each and every day. And with Him, we are invited to offer our sacrifices to God the Father for the salvation of the world.

In receiving the Eucharist, we also become more like Jesus. We become more assimilated into the Body of Christ. There is an old saying that we are what we eat. By consuming the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, we become more like Him through the grace we receive.

So at Mass, we are truly, profoundly present at the Last Supper; we are present at the foot of the Cross; as members of the Body of Christ, we are on the Cross with Jesus; and we are in heaven.

So why should we go to Mass? At Mass, we become more like Jesus. That will be really important on the Day of Judgment. When God the Father looks at me, I’d rather Him see Jesus, and not so much me. Also, when we are at Mass, we are literally present at the central event of all creation: the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

So in the end, my question is not why should we go to Mass? Rather, it’s why would anyone want to miss Mass… ever?

Not all donations are tax deductible….

We’ve all see him. Outside of the baseball game, on the off ramp, outside of church. The beggar.

Our faith is clear on our responsibility to the poor. You remind yourself that the beggar could be Jesus in disguise, testing your compassion and generosity. But then there is that other voice. You tell yourself that person is either scamming, has a chemical dependency, or is crazy. Giving money isn’t helping him, it’s keeping him from learning how to fend for himself. If you want to give money, give it to a charity that can help those in need in a healthy, responsible way.

But somehow the debate resurfaces. Your children are watching you walk by someone with outstretched arms, in obvious need of help. It’s unsettling. What would God have us do? If I have two coats, one is mine and one belongs to the poor, but how do I give this coat to the right person, the right way?