Tag: hope

Finding Jesus

Finding Jesus

How is it that you sought me? Did you not know I must be in my Father’s house?

Recently, I’ve been getting a lot of comfort from the fifth joyful mystery of the rosary: the finding of the child Jesus in the temple. Mary and Joseph anxiously search for Jesus after He stays behind in Jerusalem following the Passover feast. When He is finally found, listening and talking with the teachers in the temple, He seems to have expected them to know where He would be, instead of traipsing across Jerusalem looking everywhere. But they didn’t just know He would be in the temple and they seem even to struggle with His response.

Why is this comforting to me?

Mary was conceived without Original Sin, she bore the God-man in her womb following a conversation with an angel, and she humbly bears the honor being Queen of Heaven and earth. Yet she did not know that Jesus would be in the temple.

Joseph was a man who was clearly directed in his dreams, nobly labored to provide a life for Mary and Jesus, and lived a life governed by faith, justice, and wisdom. Yet he did not know that Jesus would be in the temple.

Those closest to Christ during His earthly life, those who raised Him from a small baby, those who were perfect or nearly so did not understand what Jesus was doing in this moment. The same would be true for many other moments in their lives, too.

And I find this to be extremely comforting.

When I cannot see what God is planning for my future…
When I do not understand how any greater good could be brought from this present pain…
When I do not find much reason to hope…
When the sadness of the present blinds me from seeing the joy that is certainly to come…
When I seek but do not find, ask but don’t receive an answer, knock but do not find an open door…
When I wonder but seem to get no closer to understanding…
When I cannot find Jesus in the present moment although I know He must be close…

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The Risk of Hope

The Risk of Hope

Hope is a risk.

When encountering difficulties, it is a good practice to turn to the Lord in prayer. And while there are many true sayings like “God is faithful” and “trust in God” and “God provides” and on and on, there is never a guarantee that God will act in the way that I want Him to act. It is true that God is all good and that He uses all things for good. It is also true that God has a more beautiful plan for our lives than we do. He is faithful, He is just, He loves us beyond measure.

And yet.

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were still thrown into the fiery furnace.
Daniel was put in the lion’s den.
The Israelites wandered in the desert for forty years.
John the Baptist was beheaded for proclaiming uncomfortable truths.
Jesus was crucified.
Rome was converted by the blood of martyrs.
St. Joan of Arc was burned at the stake after a sham trial which declared her a heretic.
St. Jeanne Jugan was sidelined and isolated in the very religious community she started.
Bl. Franz Jägerstätter refused to fight for the Nazis and was imprisoned before being executed.
St. Carlo Acutis died as a teenager after a battle with leukemia.

It seems important to remember that in all of these situations, God provided.

For the first four men, there was a miracle which prevented them from dying in the manner their persecutors planned. But for so many throughout the ages, God’s method of bringing about the greatest good can only be seen in glimpses, darting around the edges of our comprehension as we risk being overrun by the sorrow and pain which is so easy to perceive. There are many things which will only properly be understood from the perspective of eternity, from the view which God has as He weaves lives together and pulls beauty from sorrow.

However, it can be too easy to just quit praying, declaring that it doesn’t matter if we pray because God does whatever He is going to do. We can simply be resigned, trying not to care too much either way, denying that we have feelings and instead insisting that all is as it should be.

Hope, in many ways, is the riskiest option. The challenging task of seeking the fulfillment we desire in the moment while remaining focused on the eternal. There are so many hopes I have in my life, so many desires I want the Lord to fulfill. And I often have very particular ways I would like the Lord to fulfill these longings. The question isn’t if God loves me or will provide or if He is good or if He should be trusted. All of those things are true. But it seems to be the task of a lifetime to entrust our desires to the Lord, knowing He may choose to work in a different way, and yet have hope that, come what may, all will be truly, eternally good.

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His Yoke is Easy and His Burden Light

His Yoke is Easy and His Burden Light

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.
(Matthew 11: 28-30)

His yoke is easy and His burden is light.

Over the past few weeks, I have wondered, “Is it really easy and light? It doesn’t feel that way.” I’m not certain it generally helps to consider that Christ suffered far more than I do. It isn’t a comparison game I want to play. Instead, various circumstances in life arise which can make us wonder how Jesus can say that what we are receiving in life is easy and light. The stress might not amount to the crucifixion, but it can still feel paralyzing. The pain might not compare to the scourging, but it can still feel crippling.

And yet Jesus always speaks what is true: His yoke is easy, His burden light.

Not that long ago, in a Bible study in prison, we were talking about this passage from Matthew’s Gospel. As different questions were asked, we spent a little time talking about a yoke and how it would look to be “yoked” to Jesus. The image that came to mind is one that stuck with me in the days that followed. I had mentioned that we step into the yoke/harness shared with Jesus and that He never abandons it, even if we run from the yoke. And I kept coming back to that image of Jesus faithfully shouldering the burden, while I so often long for escape and to slip out of the offered yoke.

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I Am Them

I Am Them

A worksheet that I had found scattered bits of time to review, improve, and print was received with unsurprising lackluster by my students. Class after class, student after student, groan after groan was emitted as I slid the packet onto their desks. Sometimes, I would joke with them and say, “I’ll take that as a ‘thank you’.” Other times, I would internally roll my eyes at them and, also internally, admonish their lack of gratitude. Or, at least, their incredibly verbal ingratitude.

“But it is almost the end of the school year!” they said mournfully, as they acted like the worksheet was twelve pounds of weight.

“Yes,” I replied, “but ‘almost’ is the key word there. School involves school work. What did you expect?”

Their response grated on me after a few classes, even though I wasn’t entirely surprised by it. Yet as I was passing out papers to yet another class, I had an insight, a bit of a revelation. A type of realization that is always a little unnerving after the internal frustration I’ve expressed towards my students.

I am them.

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The Wrestling is the Hope

The Wrestling is the Hope

When faced with the misery of another human, how do we respond?

Not long ago, I found myself in a group of people in prison reflecting on questions of mercy and compassion. What has been our experience when showing mercy? What has been our experience when being shown mercy? In the midst of this, a man started to share about a hypothetical or vague situation and it became increasingly clear that he was sharing his own story with us.

He said that he couldn’t believe that God would forgive some people for the terrible, awful things they had done to other people. It wouldn’t be enough to just say sorry; forgiveness from God would be too easy, too incomprehensible. Though numerous pastors, priests, friends, and volunteers had told him otherwise, he could not fathom forgiveness being offered to himself. It was clear he was repulsed by himself and that he had likely tortured himself by replaying his crimes over and over in his mind thousands of times.

What do you do when you hate yourself so much yet you cannot avoid yourself? While you can run away from everyone else and hide in shame, you cannot outrun yourself. You cannot avoid being with your own tell-tale heart which longs for forgiveness yet cannot imagine ever being reconciled–with God, yourself, or humanity.

Some of his friends jumped in to offer consolation or to compare their wildly different situations as though they were similar. He sadly rebuffed the attempts, clearly seeing the differences and being unwilling to yield any compassion towards himself. Numerous thoughts raced through my mind and I tried to consider what I could say in the face of such despair. At one point, weeping, he questioned why God wouldn’t let him feel forgiven if he actually was and he bemoaned having no hope for himself.

“Perhaps the wrestling is the hope,” I said.

I explained that while he wants to give up, it doesn’t seem like he can. Maybe it is his undying longing for reconciliation and for redemption which is his hope. He wants to despair and yet he cannot fully commit himself to giving up entirely. Perhaps this is the hope the Lord is offering.

“I don’t know why the Lord doesn’t offer more grace in different moments. But I know He always offers enough.”

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To Embrace Life

To Embrace Life

I’ve been doing prison ministry for several years now, but I have found myself entering into it in a new way over these recent weeks. Washing dishes at a Christmas celebration, I found myself thinking, “I bet some of the guys would really love to be washing dishes with their families right now.” The simple, mundane act of driving to work caused me to wonder, “How many of the guys really missing just driving a car?” As a break from school found me randomly sick, which it often seems to do, I gracefully vomited into the toilet and thought, “I’m glad I have a bathroom where I can throw up by myself and not have an auditory audience of dozens of people.” Numerous other scenarios have come up, too, as I have lit the candles for the Advent wreath, wrapped beautiful presents to gift to family members, had the ‘opportunity’ to shovel snow, and wanted a book so I ordered it online–throughout it all being prompted to remember that these are all things I would feel more grateful for if my life looked a little different.

It isn’t that I believe prisons shouldn’t exist or even that most people are there unjustly or undeservedly. Instead, I have been prompted to recall how the incarcerated are persons and even if the punishment fits the crime, there is a lived experience of it which might make us more compassionate if we were aware. It has caused me to feel a real grief for some of the men and to mourn a bit for what their lives could have been and yet see them try to embrace the life that is now offered to them. There is a strength that is involved in spending year after year in prison, a heartache that is real when you know that you will never get out of prison alive or that your kids will be completely grown by the time you are released. In no way do I understand this, but I have felt a sliver of this grief as I have gotten to know some of the men and I feel like this melancholy has grown a bit in these recent days.

Yet my life is not in prison.

Perhaps oddly, this has been my reflection as we move into the new year. I am not in prison so I should seek to soak up the things that these guys want to do but cannot. (Like, obviously, within reason.) There are many aspects of my life which, like the men in prison, I cannot control or make happen. Honestly, the Lord’s will seems as inscrutable to them as to me. And yet there are things I can do to not just pass the time, to not just look forward to the next weekend or the next break from school. For me, it can be easy to be trapped in moving from one day to the next, wishing for something different and yet seeing the same thing sprawling endlessly into the future. I don’t want to live like that, especially when I sometimes try to encourage the men in prison not to do that.

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In The Heart of Our Darkness

In The Heart of Our Darkness

My heart is filled with so much longing.

Is it the season of Advent which fills it with yearning and anticipation? Or is it the state of my being at this time? Or is it simply what it means to be human?

Regardless of the cause, I am left in the agony of waiting during these shortening winter days. In some ways, anticipation is delightful, inviting a sense of looking forward to something and a source of hope for the future. Yet in other ways it can be draining, one’s being filled with a fervent desire for a fulfillment which is not yet here and the remembrance of that lack is persistent. While we cannot change that we wait, we can change how we wait. In recent days, two things have come into my mind and heart which have invited me to consider how I’m waiting even if they don’t completely change my experience of it.

The first was a moment in prayer a few weeks ago. It can be easy for me to feel that while God has a plan for me, He has perhaps overlooked moving forward with the next step. Yet I know that God wastes nothing, forgets nothing, overlooks nothing, and is in no way negligent with any aspect of any person. So what came into my prayer was the image of my whole heart, my whole being, every drop of my present life and circumstances being poured out into His hands. Like a bucket of water, it flowed from me and was captured tenderly, completely in His cradled hands. As individual drops moved toward the edges, seemingly prepared to fall carelessly to the ground, Our Lord managed to keep them all within the crevice of His hands.

Nothing was lost.

No fleeting emotion was unworthy of His attention, no aching wound escaped His notice or care, no mundane moment of my life was devoid of His presence and acknowledgement. I’ve come back to this image many times. My whole life, the complexities of my heart, the things I love and hate are all held by Jesus. Nothing escapes His notice or loving gaze.

The second is the idea of not letting my heart be troubled. It has come up in various ways and in different devotionals I’m listening to or reading. What has caught my attention most recently is the idea of letting my heart be troubled. So perhaps my life is filled with waiting and uncertainties. At least I can strive to not be troubled by the lack of clarity, to receive what is offered from the Lord and trust that He will provide. The storm can rage around us, but we can seek to not let the storm become interior. Not being troubled becomes an incredibly active thing rather than the passive thing it might sometimes seem to be.

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Windows to the Soul

Windows to the Soul

I was struck by their eyes.

Glancing around the table for a moment, I saw several pairs of gentle, thoughtful eyes. Creases radiated from the corners, shooting outward toward countenances which had faced much sorrow, misery, and difficulty. Yet, here, in this moment, these eyes were content, hopeful, seeking a fulfillment which had seemed elusive in the past.

I commented with a laugh that one of them looked incredibly intense as he carefully outlined a design on a poster, adding flourishes and details, colorful letters unfolding in a practiced artistic script. Another had kind eyes as he shared a gratitude for life which was a hard-fought accomplishment, a thankfulness borne of recognizing he could easily be dead if circumstances had transpired differently. Yet another had brilliantly dark and quiet eyes, settled into a fiery calm and carrying tremendous depth and treasured secrets.

One after the other, I am peering into pairs of eyes which have seen things I hope to never witness and have sought a hope I, too, fervently desire. Soaking up the moments, the snatches of conversation between sips of coffee and theological ponderings between deft strokes of a marker on posterboard, I found myself incredibly grateful for this glimpse of humanity. I think people wouldn’t believe what we talk about or what these men are like, I thought to myself as I heard them share their stories and answer questions.

The human person is a many layered being. I am not proposing that at this prison retreat there were only men who have completely repented of their wrongdoing or who will live lives on the straight and narrow forevermore. However, where can we look and see such a group of people? Instead, I am continually amazed at how they are taking their situations, brought on by their own choices as well as circumstances outside of their control, and seeking to grow. For some, this means striving for sobriety and personal betterment during their remaining prison sentence before concluding their time or being released on parole. For others, this means wrestling with a life sentence and how they can be involved in their families while incarcerated or seek personal fulfillment within the prison walls.

From the outside, flipping through tv news reports or online articles, it can be easy to simplify humanity. We hear about horrifying and shocking crimes, quickly bemoan the state of society, and want people locked away forever. Yet sitting at a table with them drinking cups of coffee, handing them slices of toast which are only offered on this retreat, watching their eyes fill up with tears as they speak of how they are seeking to be good fathers despite facing a life sentence in prison, and hearing them push themselves to share a story with the group regardless of their nervousness all makes it much harder to categorize them all as “bad” and slam the door shut on them.

Humans are complex and, thankfully, have the capacity for growth and change.

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You Can Waste It

You Can Waste It

Not too long ago, I was helping with a retreat and someone at the table was commenting about experiencing a cold shower that morning. It wasn’t presented as a major concern, but it was definitely something not desired by the individual. Another person at the table mentioned that he could offer up the cold shower. His reply was, “I don’t want to.” And I, quick with a witty and brisk response, jabbed, “You don’t have to offer it up. You can waste it.”

My own words have kept, for lack of a better word, haunting me over the weeks since that moment. Alongside it is the recurring question, Am I wasting it? Am I wasting my present suffering?

It is incredibly easy to look at someone else’s life and to see the moments when they should choose virtue. While it might take some learning and study, it is simple to offer words of wisdom, guidance for how one ought to live. Yet it is remarkably difficult to choose to accept one’s own wisdom or to live in the way one knows one should. The words which easily rolled out of my mouth have continued to stare back at me, probing me and provoking me, asking if they bear any resemblance to my own life.

I don’t want to waste my suffering.

Yet it seems that to offer up my suffering means I need to really be aware of it and consider it more deeply. If I’m going to offer it to the Lord, I need to recognize it. This, however, it not what I want to spend my time doing. Ignoring the present pain is a bit more comfortable. Instead of staring my longings and unfulfilled desires in the face, I want to avoid them and distract myself with something else. I think I tend to waste my suffering because I don’t want to keep acknowledging it and relating it to the Lord.

Underlying this avoidance of facing my suffering is perhaps the fear that if I keep looking at it, really seeing the tender point of pain and longing, then I might be prone to bitterness. It is already far too easy for my heart to grow bitter, with the Lord or anyone else. I think there is a worry woven into my heart that if I keep seeing this suffering and keep offering it back to the Lord that I will instead just tire of the process and get angry. If I avoid it, the slow-burn of annoyance will maybe just stay in the background. If I continually confront it, who knows what it will become?

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Answering Prayers We Didn’t Pray

Answering Prayers We Didn’t Pray

Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said to him, ‘You are lacking one thing. Go, sell what you have, and give to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.’

The rich man in today’s Gospel received a beautiful, difficult blessing. He was able to ask Jesus how he could inherit eternal life and then he was told the answer.

It seems, however, that the rich man was hoping for a different response. Perhaps he wanted Jesus to say, “You don’t need to do anything else–you will inherit eternal life.” Or maybe he wanted Jesus to have some small request or some additional rule to follow. Instead, he is invited to follow Jesus after selling his possessions. This does not seem to be what the man had anticipated or he might not have asked Jesus the question. This good news, this call to discipleship which others received with wild abandon, is met with sadness and a disheartened turning away. The rich man asks a question, receives an answer, and then sulks away. How difficult it is to seek and then find that the cost is higher than you are willing to pay!

This is often true for us, too. We want the Lord to provide an answer to a present difficulty. Hoping for guidance and direction, we implore Jesus to show us the way. Yet when an answer, a path, or a gift is offered, we quickly realize it isn’t what we hoped we would receive. His ways and thoughts are far above our ways, yes, but we keep hoping, over and over again, that they will match up. We find ourselves desiring that just once our meticulously crafted and very comfortable plan will be the one the Lord has also been preparing for us. Many times we, like the rich man, ask questions with specific answers in mind or ask for grace but are focused on very particular graces.

Jesus sees this man wholly. He knows him through and through. The deep desires of his heart and the secret dreams and imaginings are known perfectly to the Lord. It is in light of this knowledge that Jesus offers the answer of sell what you have, give to the poor, and follow Me. Jesus doesn’t need more information to offer a better response. He offers the answer which is perfectly crafted for this man’s heart. Jesus looked at him, loved him, and then placed His finger on the very point which needed His attention right then. The Lord invites him to eliminate what separates them and to become His disciple.

Perhaps before every hard thing that enters our life, the same situation unfolds. Jesus looks at us, loves us, and then points to a lack in our hearts. He does this not to hurt us or to unnecessarily grieve us or to cause us to turn away from Him. Instead, it is this abundant love and great knowledge of our innermost being which causes Him to offer us a grace we didn’t ask for and mercies we didn’t expect. They often come wrapped in problems, accompanied by heartache, and bathed in tears. We don’t want them. We generally desire to resist them. And yet they come, through various means and different channels, from the hand of the Lord.

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