Persistence

If you like kung fu movies, you know the story well.  A young man decides that he wants to dedicate his life to the study, practice, and art of a certain spiritual and physical way of life.  The young man climbs a great mountain, enters the sanctuary, bows to the old sage, and asks to enter the community.

Invariably, the young man is either rebuked or admitted but given such menial and banal tasks that it tests his patience.  But until the Master understands the commitment of the young man, he does not give him the opportunity to learn and develop.  The young man doesn't take this as an insult, but merely a test of one's character, mettle, and desire.  

Once he has proved himself, the young man can begin his studies, practice, and new way of life.  Today we see this very archetype at work in the Gospel (Matthew 15:21-28), when Jesus is approached by a Canaanite woman, asking for her daughter to be healed.

The image that many of us hold of Jesus would anticipate that Jesus would graciously and generously oblige this poor woman, heal her daughter, and be on his way with a kind and encouraging word.

Instead, Jesus ignores and insults the poor woman before relenting to her plea.  I'm not one for exploring the psychology of Jesus in such scenes, but I am a little taken aback by how harsh Jesus is with this woman.  What on earth would make Jesus ignore someone in need coming to Him for help?

I think it is something like the phenomenon we see in those kung fu movies.  Because of his public ministry, great deeds and healings, word of Jesus from Nazareth had already spread far and wide.  The Gospels note that at first, Jesus spoke mainly to his disciples; after three years of teaching, healing, and performing miracles, Jesus spoke also to large crowds who pushed closer to see him, hear him, and even touch his clothing -- all in hopes of being healed themselves.

This had to get tiring for Jesus.  He wasn't a freak show or circus act.  And while throngs of people came to him for a quick fix, Jesus wasn't entirely interested in the short-term.  Instead, he explains clearly in this passage:

"I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel."  

Canaanites were one of many tribes of Gentiles, who although lived in close proximity with the Israelites, were not considered a "clean" people because of their lack of ritual laws, food restrictions, and because they didn't worship Yahweh as their God above all other gods.  But even this Jewish rabbi attracted Gentiles to hear His truth, heed His teachings, and be healed by His touch or command.  Before long, it became quite difficult for Jesus to avoid big crowds and likely, countless requests for healing.

This Gospel provides two lessons for us:

First and foremost, we need to be persistent in our faith.  The Canaanite woman does not leave when the disciples send her away.  She does not relent when Jesus insults her, saying "It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs."  Instead, she is persistent, like the young man who is committed to learn kung fu, shows her character, mettle, and desire.  As an outsider, the Canaanite woman is showing her willingness to be converted to this new and different way of life.

What does this mean for us?  That we cannot turn to Jesus for a "quick fix."  We can't rely on Him to get us through our hour of need but then forget about Him when all is well.  We can't risk watering down our faith (and desire to grow closer to Him as the Way, the Truth, and the Life) into superstition.  

From the outside looking in, Christianity can appear to be like a superstition.  Baseball players cross themselves before going to bat, athletes pray before games or matches, thank Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ when they win (but what about when they lose?) -- and I think we all know a few people who have a quick phrase for pleading to St. Anthony when they can't find their keys or wallet or are quick to bury a statue of St. Joseph when they're looking to sell their house.

Christianity isn't superstition.  And turning our lives over to Jesus for His truth, His love, and His healing power in our lives isn't about a quick fix.  It's about persistence and constant conversion.  Or as a good friend of mine, Fr. Wally once told me, it's about "praying tough."  God knows what's in our heart.  And we shouldn't be afraid of being honest with God about what we want, need, or fear.  But that also means we should be ready to be persistent in order to be invested in the outcome as God is.

Perhaps this is better saved for another post, but it's worth mentioning; I think there is at least one more lesson at work here: as we become disciples and, in turn, offer to teach and heal on our own, we will need to draw boundaries.  We cannot be everything to everyone.  Even Jesus had limits and had to say "no" to people.  It's something that we need to learn to balance in our own lives and, what is more, help those around us better realize that what we have to offer doesn't involve quick fixes, the "right" words or actions or other matters of superstition, but ongoing conversion.

That's what the kung fu master looks for.  It's what Jesus saw in the Canaanite woman.  

And persistence and constant conversion is what Jesus looks for in us.

Nothing to Fear

There are times in our lives when we can't help but struggle. Maybe something bad happens to us or a friend or family member. When we experience tragedy, pain, illness, or suffering, it's easy to grow anxious, get scared, and doubt that we will ever get through this dark night.

Many saints (like St. John of the Cross and the soon-to-be-saint, Blessed Mother Teresa) wrote about experiencing these dark nights themselves. So having them shouldn't be a reason for feeling lost, abandoned, hopeless, or guilty. They are, as St. Ignatius called them, times of desolation, or feeling separated from the love of God.

The truth, however, is that we are NEVER cut off from God's love. Never. This is what we heard in last Sunday's second reading (Romans 8:35, 37-39). And no storm, no matter how big, should ever lead us to believe anything to the contrary.

Jesus is our Lord and the Lord of all. There is nothing in this world which can overcome or even diminish Christ's love for us. That's not only what today's Gospel (Matthew 14:22-33) is about, it's also what the Cross is about. Christ's love is so wide, so deep, so infinite that it overcomes torture, humiliation, and even death. It should go without saying that this love also overcomes storms of every magnitude and duration.

Each of us have personal experience with the storms life brings. These desolations aren't meant to perplex us, strain our patience or trust in God, or get us second-guessing the whole "faith" thing. Instead, these desolations stretch us and challenge us to learn and grow to more fully rely on the Light and Love of Christ and to ultimately realize (and be fully convinced) that the Light and Love of Christ will never waver. But we only realize this when we keep our gaze fixed on Christ, and not misdirect our focus on the wind or waves of the storm. So instead of telling God how big your storm is, tell your storm how big your God is. Or, as St. Francis de Sales said so well:
"We shall steer safely through every storm, so long as our heart is right, our intention fervent, our courage steadfast, and our trust fixed on God."

Peter serves as a perfect example for us in today's Gospel. There he is, walking on the water with Our Lord, but as soon as he looks away from Christ and begins to concentrate on the wind and waves, he begins to sink.

In much the same way, when we get distracted by how bad things are, or how much worse situations could get, we get caught up in the storm, instead of being fixed, like a compass, on the "true north" which will help us navigate through every storm and dark night that life brings.

So when Jesus says, "Do not be afraid!" He is really saying: when you rely on me, there is no storm which will sink us, no dark night which will overcome us; we truly have nothing to fear.

God (ALWAYS) Provides

When I was a junior in high school, I competed in Forensics with a speech about the power of a positive attitude. And it was a rather easy speech to write because there is book after book and study after study which provides mountains of evidence that a positive attitude can single-handedly change not only our outlook in life, but the entirety of our lives.

The power of a positive attitude has become a cash cow for a great many people, whether inspirational speakers, motivational authors, life-coaches, or whoever thought up those posters which remind us about the impact of attitude, leadership, courage, and even customer service.
[A side note: if you're looking for a laugh, check out http://demotivators.com/viewall.html for a hilarious parody of these posters.] Even the new popular, Oprah-endorsed book "The Secret" is based on this fundamental truth: when you put positive energy into the world, good things will come your way.

This is kind of campy to me. And there's plenty more fluff where that came from. Corny quotes about positive attitudes abound ("Your attitude will determine your altitude in life"), but there are quotes which remind us just how powerful this thing called attitude really is (like Thomas Jefferson's quote, "Nothing can stop the man with the right mental attitude from achieving his goal; nothing on earth can help the man with the wrong mental attitude"). And then there's my favorite:

"The last of the human freedoms [is] to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way."
(Viktor Frankl)

But how often do we live what we have seemed to establish as a universal truth? We get annoyed and peeved by small setbacks or the inconsideration of others. We get frustrated and anxious at the first hint of a challenging or ambiguous situation. And we ALL know how much easier it is to complain about something or someone than it is to find (or work towards) a solution.

And this is exactly where we find the disciples in today's Gospel (Mt. 14:13-21). The disciples take in the large crowds, the far distance to any kind of market, and the late hour and declare the situation hopeless. But with Christ, NO situation is EVER hopeless. Because God ALWAYS provides for us.

And as this miracle of the five loaves and two fish attests, God doesn't just provide "enough." God provides more than we could ever need (hence the twelve wicker baskets of leftovers).

Scripture is full of these truths. Our cup runs over. Knock and He will answer. Ask and you will receive. If God closes a door, He'll open a window. Okay, maybe the last one isn't in Scripture. But today, St. Paul says it best in our second reading (Romans 8:35, 37-39):

"For I am convinced that neither death, nor life,
nor angels, nor principalities,
nor present things, nor future things,
nor powers, nor height, nor depth,
nor any other creature will be able to separate us
from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Why wouldn't God provide for us? His love for us is infinite and His desire for us is to BASK in that love and EMBRACE the fullness of life. No matter what.

This should be all the motivation we ever need.