Showing posts with label Timothy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Timothy. Show all posts

Sunday, October 13, 2019

Give Thanks to God for Newman's Life

Sketch of a Young St. John Henry Newman
Sunday's word of God takes us back in our imaginations to the ninth century before Jesus, to a man of God by the name of Elisha. And a foreigner, a Syrian army general, begs the prophet to heal him. To the general’s surprise, Elisha simply suggests that he bathe in the Jordan River. The Syrian does so, is cured, and this foreigner praises the God of Israel.

Paul, in his letter to Timothy, speaks about the hardships he has endured. Paul invites us to give thanks for the gift of God’s life, bestowed upon us in the waters of baptism, nurtured in this liturgy, and ours forever in a transformed heavenly life.

In the Gospel according to Luke, Jesus heals ten people of leprosy. Only one, a foreigner, returns to give thanks to God.

Gratitude is a theme in today's word of God. I would like to highlight the grateful and faith-filled life of John Henry Newman, whom Pope Francis canonized in Rome today.

This nineteenth century Englishman spent the first half of his life as an Anglican (aka Episcopalian here) and the second half as a Roman Catholic. Newman influenced the so-called Oxford movement, an intellectual effort to return to the resources of our faith--the Bible, the sacraments, belief statements, authority in the Church and apostolic succession.

Newman's research eventually convinced him to join the Catholic Church. Two years later he was ordained a Catholic priest. Returning to England, Newman founded Oratory houses in Birmingham and London and then served as rector of the Catholic University of Ireland, which inspired his landmark book The Idea of a University. Newman wrote 40 books and 21,000 letters that survive.

The fullness of revelation, Newman emphasized, resides in the person of Jesus Christ. Belief statements try to capture, but never fully, the inexhaustible reality of the God-man. Hence, Christianity must develop over the centuries as we grow from childhood to adulthood. And there must be an authority on the truth or falsity of such developments.

Newman was a supporter of Christian unity at a time when Christianity was divided and religious bigotry commonplace.

In particular, he emphasized the active role of the laity: the “Spirit dwells in the Church and in the hearts of the faithful as in a temple.” Newman's writings prefigured the spirit of the Second Vatican Council (1962-65). The Church is always reform-able, holy yet made of sinners.

Revelation is a person. In other words, God reveals himself to us in Jesus and we describe this revelation in belief statements. The Eucharist is the font from which all the Church’s power flows. From this we go forth to love and serve.

I highlight two awesome prayers by John Henry Newman: the first about purpose in life:
“God has created me to do Him some definite service. He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission. I may never know it in this life, but...I shall do His work...Therefore, I will trust Him, whatever, wherever I am.… If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him, in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him...God knows what He is about. He may take away my friends. He may throw me among strangers. He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide my future from me. Still, He knows what He is about.”

The second prayer holds one of my favorite images of God: light. Newman’s poem “The Pillar of the Cloud,” written while he recovered from a severe illness, was made a hymn. Here is a very recognizable verse of the poem:
 “Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home, Lead Thou me on!
Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see the distant scene; one step enough for me...
So long Your power hath blest me, sure it still will lead me on” into God's eternal light.
Amen!

Monday, September 16, 2019

God Never Gives Up

Rembrandt's Return of the Prodigal  Son
The word of God carries us back to the thirteenth century before Jesus. On Mount Sinai, Moses is conversing with God like a friend, praying. But at the base of the mount, the Hebrews, just liberated from their oppressors in ancient Egypt, are breaking the covenant they just renewed with God, by worshiping replicas of false gods.

Sometimes, we create idols—money, power, status. We forget who we are—mere creatures totally dependent upon an all-good Creator. Moses intercedes for the people in prayer and asks God to forgive them for their wrongdoings. And God does! The author challenges us not only to ask God for forgiveness but also the grace to live a life worthy of our calling.

St. Paul, in his letter to Timothy, confesses he fiercely persecuted Christians; he was the worst of sinners. And yet God graced him, to become one of the greatest evangelizers in Christianity. Paul challenges us to be grateful to God.

In the Gospel, we have the famous parable. The younger son asked for his inheritance and then squandered it. Then he “came to his senses.” An incredible phrase! He realizes his true identity as a beloved son. He wants to be in a good relationship with his father, who unconditionally forgives and loves him and gives him a welcome-home party. The story emphasizes God’s unconditional love for us.

This parable may move us to ponder forgiving someone who has wronged us. If we can’t seem to forgive on our own, pray for the grace to participate in the forgiveness of Jesus, who pardons those who are truly sorry and try to start their lives afresh. The parable invites us to see ourselves in the characters. Are we the forgiving parent? The repentant younger son? Or the resentful older son?

Let me illustrate forgiveness with a favorite book of mine, The Hiding Place, in which the author, a concentration camp survivor, describes how she lectured in post-war Europe about the need to forgive one another. After one of her talks, a former SS guard came up to her. She recognized him. Suddenly, she remembered the laughing guards, the heaps of clothes on the floor, the frightened face of her sister. And so, when this repentant person extended his hand, she began to have angry thoughts. Then she remembered: Jesus Christ died for this man and forgives him. “Lord Jesus,” she silently prayed, “forgive me and help me to forgive him.”

She tried to smile, to raise her hand. But she couldn’t. Again she breathed a silent prayer: “Jesus, I can’t forgive him for what he did to my sister and so many other people. Give me your forgiveness.”
Christ doesn’t ask us to forgive on our own. He simply asks that we participate in his gift of forgiveness. Forgiveness is possible when we trust in God to bring forgiveness and healing and reconciliation. God never gives up on us.