Month: February 2022

When I think of the most relatable person in the Bible, Peter is often the first to come to mind. He messes up. A lot. The event we hear of in the Gospel is one of those times. Rather than embracing Christ’s words with faith, we are told, “…Peter took him [Jesus] aside and began to rebuke him”. But, at the same time, Peter also has great faith in who Jesus is. When Jesus asks Peter who He is, Peter’s response is “You are the Christ”. 

So how does Peter go from a faith-filled acknowledgment that Jesus is Christ, the Messiah who has come to redeem man from his sin, to rebuking Jesus for teaching them the realities of what being the Christ will entail – rejection and death? And what does Jesus’ response mean? “You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.” How can we think like God does instead of as human beings do? 

I think the answer to these questions lies in Peter’s own expectations of what the Messiah, the Christ would be. If Christ is the one who redeems the world, that means that He must be powerful and strong which is what Peter expected. But Christ’s explanation of what He will endure does not exactly align with the typical notion of power and strength. In fact, suffering greatly, being rejected by those in authority, and being killed all sound like the exact opposite of power and strength. But this is what Jesus means by thinking as human beings do. It takes work for us to see the power and strength at the center of God’s plan for salvation.  It took the strength only God possesses for Him to humble Himself, become man, and die on the cross for the sake of our salvation. For us to think as God does, we must let go of our expectations of who Christ is and acknowledge the strength and power that lay in the sacrifice He made for us. 

In our faith, may we remember that our God is humble and strong. It is His strength that freed us from our sins and it is His humility that we seek to imitate when we come to Him in our moments of despair.

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The Letter of James is short and to the point on how we are to behave. There are points made about anger, the word of God and action. However, as I read it, I came to see that it is about listening. And listening well. We are exhorted to be hearers and then act on what we have heard. If we do not, we risk deluding ourselves into thinking we are someone we are not. We also risk leading others astray if they know we call ourselves Catholic without behaving as such.

James reminds us repeatedly to look to the word, learn it and live it. When we immerse ourselves in Scripture, we put on the mind of Christ. Only then can we respond as He does to a world in chaos. Of course, we do this as well as possible given that we are not Jesus but His follower. As people of faith, we can call on Him to help us be better in a world that is in desperate need of healing. Our behavior- how we treat people, speak to others, care for those in need – that is what people notice. It is the doer of the word who reaches out who is helping to heal the world.

As in the Gospel though, sometimes healing comes slowly. And we may lack patience, faith, or trust. The blind man’s friends wanted something good for their friend. Jesus wants our good. Do you wonder why the man’s friends are mentioned? I think it is to remind us that we are meant to have and be community. And it is in community that we need to follow what James tells us to do. 

As you go about your day, think about how you can take the words of the First Reading and put them into practice. “Be doers of the word and not hearers only, deluding yourselves.”

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I once heard a talk relating motherhood to the Eucharist. Just as Christ gives himself totally to us in the form of bread, a mother gives herself totally to her child(ren). As I layed there naked and cut open on the operating table during my C-sections, and my arms were spread open so that I was literally in the form of a cross, I was able to say “This is my body, given up for you.”  

As the months progressed, my 8-inch scar and the 2-3 month recovery were a reminder of the sacrifice I had made for each of them to be born, “This is my body, given up for you.” 

As I nursed my children and endured nights with little sleep, “This is my body, given up for you.” 

As I realized that being clean was a luxury after being soiled with various bodily fluids, “This is my body, given up for you.” 

As my showers, my bathroom breaks, and my meals were constantly interrupted by little persons’ needs, “This is my body, given up for you.” 

I remember my husband telling me during a low moment that being a parent wasn’t babysitting, but rather constant care 24/7 as long as you lived. It doesn’t sink in until you’re in the thick of it.

Today’s First Reading reminded me of that moment of desperation: “each person is tempted when lured and enticed by his desire.” My desire for sleep, quiet and just a moment to myself was getting the best of me. But the reading goes on to describe the beauty that shines forth, despite the cross. “All good giving and every perfect gift is from above, [] with home there is no alteration or shadow caused by change [becoming a parent] He willed to give us birth by the word of truth that we may be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures [my children].” 

I admit there seem to be more moments of trial than moments of beauty at this stage in life raising littles, but knowing that “all good giving and every perfect gift is from above” helps me to have a more positive attitude. My children are my greatest gift. Thank you Father, for your great gifts. 

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