Tag: christianity

Lenten Fasting and Communion

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Now that we have embarked on our Lenten fasts and penances, hopefully we are continuing to thoughtfully consider how and why we are practicing them. Lent isn’t just the time of year to once again give up chocolate or snacking. Reading more scripture and getting to Mass more regularly are good practices, but Lent isn’t just about that either. Lent is the season to empty ourselves, even of apparent goods, to make room for the greatest good, God. We cannot fill ourselves more completely with the Holy Spirit unless we first empty ourselves and let go of thoughts and practices that divert our attention from Him. Ultimately, we fast, pray, and give alms not for ourselves or anything we hope to gain, but rather so that we can encounter God more intimately. And when we do, when we call on Him, we trust He will be ever closer and more present to us.

Isaiah tells us God is displeased with His people, because they fast in an attempt to gain His favor. They “abandon the law” (58:2) and then demand God’s attention. They make a show of their penance and are irritated when God seems to ignore them. “Why do we fast,” they cry, “and you do not see it? Afflict ourselves, and you take no note of it” (58:3)?

God is angry because He understands the people’s intentions. They are not being selfless; they are “quarreling and fighting” (Is 58:4). “You carry out your own pursuits” (Is 58:3), God declares, in ways that are prideful and vainglorious.

God then tells us what he desires. The “fasting that I wish” (Is 58:6), He explains, is based not on what we give up or how hungry we look or how hard we’re trying. Rather, God wishes for us to sacrifice by serving others. We are to treat people justly, “free the oppressed,” feed the hungry, “shelter the homeless,” and “clothe the naked,” so as to ultimately “not [turn] your back on your own” (Is 58:7).

God desires our service, sacrifice, and emptying of ourselves for others. This is what draws us to Him; this is what He will reward. God tells us when we are rightly ordered in our sacrifice, when we are merciful to others, He will come to our assistance. Our “light shall break forth” (Is 58:8). Our “wound shall be quickly healed” (Is 58:8). We shall be “vindicated,” and the Lord will protect us and shore our efforts with His “glory” (Is 58:8).

This, then, is the invitation of Lent. In our emptying and sacrificing and serving, we are making room not only for a more intimate encounter with God, but also charitable encounters with our brothers and sisters along the way. As Sister Miriam James Heidland tells us, “The whole of the Lenten journey is [ordered towards] communion” (WOF, Refusal to Grasp). It is our willingness to see Christ in the other and to be Christ to him that draws us to the heart of the Father. And this, after all, is what St. Augustine tells us our restless hearts most desire–to rest in Him.

May we discover God’s mercy and consolation this Lent, trusting that our fasts and sacrifices will be met with His scandalously abundant gratuitous love. It should be the greatest desire of our hearts, worn and bruised and stretched wide open, to hear Him say to us, “Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer, you shall cry for help, and he will say: Here I am!” (Is 58:9).

Freedom in God

Published on by Jennifer LindnerLeave a comment

“Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.” 

(2 Cor 3:17)

Suffering is inevitable, but sometimes it can be made worse by another pervasive feeling: stuckness. The source of our suffering can cause us to feel heavy or worried or scared. But feeling stuck can lead us to feel even more anxiety or sadness. We might even feel emotionally or spiritually paralyzed. Suffering, it seems, steals our freedom; we cannot extricate ourselves from our circumstances, nor do we feel like we can choose how to think or move forward. What if, however, we could look at our suffering in a different way? What if we could encounter God in the stuckness? We know that wherever God is, so also is there freedom, and He wants us to find it.  

What does it feel like when we’re stuck in our suffering? Maybe we ask, “How can this be happening?” Or we demand, “Why, Lord?” The Psalms reflect the hopelessness we feel. “I am utterly spent and crushed; I grown because of the tumult of my heart” (Ps 38:8). Fatigue and grief rob us of our ability to think and move freely. “My heart throbs, my strength fails me; and the light of my eyes—it also has gone from me” (Ps 38:10).

Turning to the Lord, though, even just enough to obtain a little space from our pain, we remember He is with us. “When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul” (Ps 94:19). In crying out to God, we trust He will help us. Like the Canaanite woman, we cry, “Lord, help me” (Matt 15:25), and we wait in hope for His answer, “[G]reat is your faith! Let it be done for you as you desire” (15:28). 

God’s closeness strengthens us, and our trust in Him loosens our spiritual paralysis. We might not feel entirely free, but we no longer feel alone. The Lord unlocks the doors to our hearts. “I sought the LORD, and he answered me, and delivered me from all my fears” (Ps 34:4). He descends into our spiritual prisons and liberates us. “The angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear him, and delivers them” (Ps 34:7). 

Ultimately, God seeks to encounter us in the midst of our suffering so He can set us free. Sometimes we cry out to Jesus like the blind men: “Have mercy on us, Son of David” (Matt 9:27). Other times, Jesus finds us, as when he confronts the long-suffering man at the Sheep Gate: “Do you want to be healed?” (Jn 5:6). God repeatedly invites us to understand how we are most free not apart from suffering, but rather when we discover He is our refuge in the storm of our pain. It is there, during our times of need, that God calls us closest to Himself. As Paul tells us, “For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities; for when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Cor 12:10). “Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom,” because God is Truth, and wherever there is Truth, there too will we find freedom. 

Where might you be feeling stuck or paralyzed today? What is pressing on your heart right now? Where, with God’s help, could you notice the freedom He is inviting you to experience? Where is He asking you to look for it? Prayer? Quiet? Beauty? Laughter? Rest? Follow Him. He will meet you there.

Living the Beatitudes and Remembering Charlie Kirk

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“Raising His eyes toward His disciples Jesus said: ‘Blessed are you who are poor, for the Kingdom of God is yours. Blessed are you who are now hungry, for you will be satisfied. Blessed are you who are now weeping, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude and insult you, and denounce your name as evil on account of the Son of Man….But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation. But woe to you who are filled now, for you will be hungry. Woe to you who laugh now, for you will grieve and weep. Woe to you when all speak well of you, for their ancestors treated the false prophets in this way'” (Luke 6:20-26).

Because I don’t believe in coincidences, but rather in Providence, it is not surprising that this gospel from Luke is the today’s reading on the day that Charlie Kirk was assassinated. With his shocking murder in mind, I am inspired to reflect on this passage in a broader, more immediate way.

As is often the case, Jesus shocks us with His language which invites us to see reality and the spiritual life with a new perspective. He tells us we are blessed if we are “poor,” “hungry,” “weeping,” “hated,” “excluded and insulted,” and “denounced” for believing in Him. How can this be? Jesus’ words are shocking, considering most of us understandably wish and actually work to reject all of this. Our culture tells us we are to strive for success, fulfillment, happiness, love, and inclusion at any cost. How can we want the opposite? Furthermore, how are we blessed by all this suffering?

But Jesus doesn’t stop there. He goes further. Not only are we to suffer, but He also tells us “woe” to those who are “full,” who “laugh,” and are admired. Isn’t this what life is about? Happiness, fulfillment, getting what we want?

On the contrary, Jesus tells us when we are poor and needy, we are to “rejoice and leap for joy,” for our “reward will be great in heaven.”

Why does Jesus focus on our suffering here? Why are we to be poor and small and needy? He tells us this, because if we are filled with the riches of this world, if we are consumed with what we can get and do and have, we will become self-sufficient; we will have little need for Him. He is the way. Only in Him can we find meaning and love and rest for our restless hearts, as Augustine tells us.

Charlie Kirk was successful and much loved by many, but he was also hated–hated so much that he lost his life for standing for Truth. But those of us committed to Truth, to life, to freedom, know Charlie embodied the courage and perseverance we are all called to cultivate as Christians. Perhaps this consolation feels meagre at this moment, on the evening of his death, but we can be sure that Charlie died a martyr for God, Truth, honesty, and the American Way. Let us pray that he is indeed rejoicing and leaping for joy and that that his reward is great in heaven.

Rest in Peace, Charlie Kirk.

We All Need the Good Shepherd

Published on by Jennifer LindnerLeave a comment

“Jesus said: ‘I am the good shepherd. A good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. A hired man, who is not a shepherd and whose sheep are not his own, sees a wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away, and the wolf catches and scatters them. This is because he works for pay and has no concern for the sheep. I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the father; and I will lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. These also I must lead, and they will hear my voice, and there will be one flock, one shepherd. This is why the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down on my own. I have power to lay it down, and power to take it up again. This command I have received from my Father’” (Jn 10:11-18). 

We live at a time when many of us believe we have no need of a shepherd, let alone anyone who asks anything of us. And an authority or leader who asks us to follow, learn, and sacrifice? Not a chance. Clearly, however, we are misguided in thinking it is our autonomy and “freedom” from such an authority that strengthen us and give our lives meaning. 

Indeed we are like sheep in need of not only a shepherd, but also a truly good one. What would happen to the flock without Him? The sheep would disperse; get lost; be eaten by predators. And what if the shepherd is not a good man? If shepherding is only a job, he doesn’t have a love for his sheep. He doesn’t really care about them. This “shepherd,” when he “sees a wolf coming…leaves the sheep and runs away.” He simply punches in and out to put in his time. And he will quit when the work becomes too challenging. This shepherd “is not a shepherd” at all “because he works for pay and has no concern for his sheep.” 

Sounds familiar, right? Looks like our culture, doesn’t it?

Yes, God gives us the freedom to reject Him. We can deny Him and that we need a shepherd at all. But then what happens? We each go our own way. We don’t want to get lost or eaten, but we do, because we have no wisdom, no virtuous guidance. Sin seduces us into thinking we can do everything ourselves—on our own. “Who needs a God to guide us?” we ask. “I have a good heart,” we tell ourselves. “I know right from wrong.” 

We have become so disconnected from the Lord that we can no longer recollect our oneness with Him. That we don’t need God is a lie we have purchased in the expectation of obtaining power and freedom from Truth. And we have done so to the detriment of our very souls, which are then separated from this Truth. 

Jesus tells us that true freedom is not found in separation, but rather in “belonging,” in living in  “oneness” with Him. And it’s not only that we are part of “one flock,” which Jesus leads. We also “hear [His] voice” and listen to Him. We are obedient to Him. Just as Jesus is in eternal relationship with the Father—“the Father knows me and I know the Father”—so does He call us into relationship: “I know mine and mine know me.” In addition, it is Jesus’s oneness with the Father that calls Him to do God’s will. In sacrificing His life, He exemplifies not only ultimate freedom, but also ultimate love: “I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down on my own. I have the power to lay it down, and power to take it up again.” Jesus is not a victim. He chooses His path, losing none of His “power.” Rightly ordered to His Father’s “command,” He remains in complete alignment with His will. 

We are all sheep. And we need the Good Shepherd to walk with and guide us. May we discover ways to get quiet enough everyday so that, like the flock, we can hear His voice. He’s right with us in our midst. Let us follow Him.

Friar Wisdom, Fifth Sunday of Lent

Published on by Jennifer LindnerLeave a comment
Rembrandt, Christ Preaching, c. 1652

On Sunday, March 17, 2024, on their Godsplaining podcast, Fathers Gregory Pine, O.P., Patrick Briscoe, O.P., and Joseph-Anthony Kress, O.P., discussed in Lectio format the readings for the Fifth Sunday of Lent. The following is a transcript of Father Kress’s comments regarding the Gospel reading from John 12:20-33. (The full episode appears below.) Here Father inspiringly discusses how God not only reveals the Paschal Mystery to us in the life and Passion of Jesus, but how we are called to participate in this Mystery as well. By uniting ourselves with Christ’s suffering, we enter into an ever-deepening relationship with Jesus and the Father–one that is continually nourished and renewed by the outpouring and receiving of love that can only come from God.

The Lord’s gives Himself totally in His willingness to enter into this mystery—[the Paschal Mystery]. Our lives need to have elements of [this], if not totally imitate [this] full union of sacrifice with the Lord. Using the image of the seed falling to the ground in order to die to bring forth that new life, the Lord is [saying] destruction isn’t the final answer. It [death] doesn’t have the final word. Destruction and death aren’t terminal. There is going to be new life from this. It seems poetic and romanticized, but He says, “No, no. Look around you in nature. This has always been my plan. Always. New life comes from death. It doesn’t have the final word.” 

I go back to the words, “Then a voice came from heaven” (Jn 12:28). “The crowd heard it and said it was thunder” (Jn 12:29), then others called it an angel. It was the voice of the Father, who said, “I have glorified it and will glorify it again” (Jn 12:28). I’ve done it. And I’ll do it again. That phrase, “I will glorify it again.” How is the Father’s name repeatedly glorified? It’s by each and every one of us uniting in our sufferings and our deaths in this life to the death of His son. He has glorified His name by revealing His Son to us and allowing His Son to redeem us. That did happen. He did that. He has glorified His name in His Son, Jesus Christ. And He will do it again and continues to be glorified with each and every one of us, uniting us—our lives, our sufferings—to the Cross of Jesus Christ. [God] ultimately unites our deaths to [Jesus’s] death in order to bring forth resurrection. So that promise, that is a promise from the voice of the Father that [He] will glorify again. It’s our repeated glorification of the Father in His name by our union with Jesus in His life, death, and resurrection into the Paschal Mysteries.