Have this mind in you



The second chapter of Philippians is a mountain peak of Christian thought, describing the almost incomprehensible humility of Jesus in becoming human – and urging us to have that same humility.  Can St. Paul really be serious?  Sure, Jesus is my example in all things, yet how can I even hope to imitate the super-human humility of Jesus?  I can’t even imagine imitating Mary, much less the very Son of God she bore.

Let’s look in detail at Philippians 2

Here is a link to the whole second chapter of Philippians.

Since the context is the humility of Jesus, here is a post I wrote a few days ago that I hope will illuminate what Jesus’ humility is.

The first few verses of Philippians 2 are St. Paul’s detailed instructions in how a Christian can imitate the humility of Jesus.

If there is any encouragement in Christ, any solace in love, any participation in the Spirit, any compassion and mercy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, with the same love, united in heart, thinking one thing.  Do nothing out of selfishness or out of vainglory; rather, humbly regard others as more important than yourselves, each looking out not for his own interests, but [also] everyone for those of others.  Have among yourselves the same attitude that is also yours in Christ Jesus.   Philippians 2:1-5

 

If there is any encouragement in Christ, any solace in love, any participation in the Spirit, any compassion and mercy

St. Paul doesn’t say “if” in the sense of maybe-so-maybe-not.  He says “if” in the sense that when you examine your experience as a Christian, you do find these things present.  He reminds us that these are, in fact, the things that we receive both from God and from Christian fellowship in Christ.  If these things are present (encouragement and comfort and working in partnership with God and the fruit of Christian love), then there is no doubt we are in the Church and thus in Christ.

These become our motive to greater perfections, including the humility he is about to bring up in the passage.

complete my joy

Paul speaks as the spiritual leader of these people.  He is an apostle.  He teaches with authority.  He was the founder of the Church in Philippi and suffered deeply and physically for these people and for Jesus.  It is no small thing that the Philippians “complete his joy”.  Yet, this urging by Paul goes deeper – it fits in perfectly with the instructions he is about to give, instructions that help to define two things.  First, what he urges defines what it means to be “church”.  Second, it’s a definition of what it means to be humble.

by being of the same mind, with the same love, united in heart, thinking one thing

I know a priest whose constant theme is to warn against what he calls “rampant individualism” both in society and in the Church.  Part of what he means is the attitude that no one can tell me what to think, I don’t need to fit in with anybody unless it suits me to do so – the attitude that somehow it is noble and strong always to chart one’s course independent of the thinking of others.

But that’s not how Christians do things.  According to Paul in this passage, unity and cohesion and agreement are highly important aspects of Christianity.  “I did it my way” has no place in the Church.

If you think about it, there’s a simple reason Paul has to be right.  Our goal as Christians is to imitate Jesus.  If we each come to resemble Jesus – if we try to make his motives our own, as well as his behavior – then it has to be that we will be of the “same mind” and the “same love”.  How could two people imitate Jesus and not end up similar to each other?

It is the essence of Christian humility to bow before Jesus, wanting nothing more than to obey and imitate him.  This is how we play our part in making the Church “one, holy, catholic, and apostolic”.  To be a good Christian, I must consciously refuse to insist on my way of thinking as the best way.  How do I do that?  How do I understand what it means to imitate and obey Jesus?  I do it by studying and obeying God’s word and the Sacred Tradition, by knowing the Church’s magisterial teaching and honoring it with my assent and my behavior.  This doesn’t mean I am a robot – it means I am a brother or sister of Jesus doing my best to bring Christ to the world around me.

Know what they call that?  Humility.

Do nothing out of selfishness or out of vainglory; rather, humbly regard others as more important than yourselves, each looking out not for his own interests, but [also] everyone for those of others.

Here’s the part about humility.  The post I put up earlier this week, and cited above, argues that what Paul describes here as always doing and being for others and for God is humility.  This is how Jesus lived his life, never varying from this wonderful focus on other people and on God the Father.

Jesus says to us “it is enough for the disciple that he become like his teacher” (Matthew 10:25).  So do you want to know when you have done and been and thought “enough” for God?  It is when you imitate Jesus.  And Paul is telling us to imitate Jesus in the way we conduct ourselves in Church.  We must always be looking out for the other person, not for ourselves.  We must never cause trouble or dissension in the Church, unless somehow there is evil within the Church.  And even if we do find evil to oppose within the Church, our motive must continue to be the benefit of other people and the glory of God.

Have among yourselves the same attitude that is also yours in Christ Jesus.

The “same attitude” Paul refers to is humility.  Paul goes on in the next six verses in the chapter to describe how God the Son lived his humility in ever-increasing degrees – how that humility played its crucial role in our salvation – and how that humility in the end resulted in an unimaginable degree of glory conferred on the god-man Jesus Christ.  He was glorified because of his humility.

If we imitate Jesus in the matter of humility, doing the best we can to obey and love (they are the same thing), then we also will inherit from this same Jesus a degree of glory beyond our imagining.

Ironic, isn’t it?  God rewards humility with glory.  Thanks be to God!

Nothing that has cursed mankind shall exist any longer; the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be within the city. His servants shall worship him; they shall see his face, and his name will be upon their foreheads. Night shall be no more; they have no more need for either lamplight or sunlight, for the Lord God will shed his light upon them and they shall reign as kings for timeless ages.   Revelation 22:3-5

Imitate Jesus in humility in all things, but especially within the Church.

Always act with the benefit of others and of God as your motive.

Humble yourself and you will reign for timeless ages.  That’s a promise.

Why do I have to do that?



It’s Lent and just about everybody offers a Communal Penance service to their parishioners.  Most parishes also extend the scheduled hours for Confession during Lent.  In homilies and Sunday announcements, folks are urged to take advantage of the graces in this sacrament.  Yet, strictly speaking, the only time the sacrament is required is in cases of mortal sin and also for those who are being received into the Church at the Easter Vigil.

I go to Communal Penance at Lent and I’ll tell who comes to the service in my area.  Sweet little old Catholics over 70 and the people who are completely involved in the life of the parish.  Of course, I don’t know their minds and lives, yet it seems unlikely many of them harbor secret mortal sins.  It reminds me of how Bishop Fulton Sheen described hearing a nun’s confession: “It’s like being stoned to death by popcorn.”

So why should I have to go to Communal Penance when the non-mortal sins I have to confess have already been dealt with at Mass and in prayer?

First, an analogy

The question of why I should go to confession starts with how people conduct relationships.  For instance, in marriage there are a set of requirements that most people would agree apply to a good marriage.  Being gentle and encouraging, sexually faithful, honest about money and time, respectful of personal “space”, that sort of thing.

But no one who is in love with their spouse would make some list of minimum requirements for the marriage and inform their spouse “this far and no more”.  No one would take the attitude that I don’t have to do any more than this list, so I’m not going to.    Somehow just writing out a list like that would be evidence that love and commitment are missing.

Or what if you made up a list of the minimum duties you think you owe your children.  Then each time one of your children comes to you for help or affection or simply for your companionship, you get out the list and ask them to read it with you.  If what they want is on the list… bingo!  But if it’s not on the list, well then, that’s not something that you have to do… so, sorry Charlie.

An attitude of just doing what you have to do, just doing your minimum duty, is not love and everybody knows it.

I won’t labor the point any further except to say that even relationships that don’t depend on love —  social groups, governments, work places  –  would not work very well if everybody had a list of minimum requirements and used that list to limit their behavior.

In the case of the Sacrament of Reconciliation, it’s not just about “church”

When the Catholic Church urges me to confess venial, non-mortal sins, it’s not about the church trying to boss me around.  It’s not about checklists, nor is it a way for priests nose around in my business.

It’s about sin.  And therefore it’s about my relationship with God.

Sin is serious.  It’s dangerous whether it is mortal or venial.  Mortal sin destroys love, it separates a person from the grace of God.  Obviously, that’s a big deal.  But venial sin is serious, too.  Venial sin in the words of the Catechism allows love to subsist, but it offends and wounds it.  And that is serious.  It really is.

The great command in Christianity is to love God with everything I have.  The second command is that I love the people around me the way I love myself.  Anything, anything that wounds my ability to love means that my relation to God is also wounded.  Ditto for my neighbor.  So I must take venial sin seriously.

The way to take sin seriously is to take love seriously.   That means I do not make lists of minimum duties and then refuse to do anything that’s not on the list.  Whenever I find something that strengthens my ability to love, then that is something I want to do.  Addressing my sin with serious intent strengthens my ability to love.  Examining my conscience carefully and honestly, then discussing the results with a priest is a wonderful exercise in self-renunciation and in purification.  It is exactly what being a disciple means.  Here is how St. Augustine put it:

Whoever confesses his sins . . . is already working with God. God indicts your sins; if you also indict them, you are joined with God. Man and sinner are, so to speak, two realities: when you hear “man” – this is what God has made; when you hear “sinner” – this is what man himself has made. Destroy what you have made, so that God may save what he has made. . . . When you begin to abhor what you have made, it is then that your good works are beginning, since you are accusing yourself of your evil works. The beginning of good works is the confession of evil works. You do the truth and come to the light.

 

Please don’t look at Reconciliation as something you “don’t have to do”, as if you keep a list of minimum duties.  Take the advice of the Church of Christ and confess your sins to a priest this Lent.  It really is a part of love.

Love does not look for the least it can do.

Love looks for ways to deepen and strengthen relationships.

Purifying myself of sin increases my ability to love.

St Peter and fishing and Lent



The day after Jesus was baptized (literally the first full day of his preaching ministry), he met several of the apostles.  That was quick!  The first chapter of John’s gospel says that Jesus walked near John the Baptist that day and John proclaimed the words we hear at every Mass “Behold the Lamb of God”.  Andrew heard these words – he went and found his brother Simon Peter to bring him to Jesus.  The next day Philip and Nathanael joined Jesus.  John 1:43 may indicate that it was with these four that Jesus started his preaching in Galilee.  Jesus invites them to follow him.

It is this initial meeting when Jesus changes Simon’s name to Cephas or Peter.  In the Bible, when God changes somebody’s name it is always an important moment and that means the invitation to “follow” was also a serious invitation.

Now fast forward a little.  All three synoptic gospels record another invitation from Jesus to Simon Peter (and James and John, too) to follow him.  This time Jesus invites them to become “fishers of men”.  Luke 5 records quite a bit of detail.

While the crowd was pressing in on Jesus and listening to the word of God, he was standing by the Lake of Gennesaret.

He saw two boats there alongside the lake; the fishermen had disembarked and were washing their nets.  Getting into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, he asked him to put out a short distance from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat.  After he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into deep water and lower your nets for a catch.”  Simon said in reply, “Master, we have worked hard all night and have caught nothing, but at your command I will lower the nets.”  When they had done this, they caught a great number of fish and their nets were tearing.  They signaled to their partners in the other boat to come to help them. They came and filled both boats so that they were in danger of sinking.  When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at the knees of Jesus and said, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”  For astonishment at the catch of fish they had made seized him and all those with him, and likewise James and John, the sons of Zebedee, who were partners of Simon. Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men.”  When they brought their boats to the shore, they left everything and followed him.    Luke 5:1-11

Simon Peter’s odd reaction to Jesus’ miracle

Why would Simon Peter tell Jesus to leave “for I am a sinful man”?  That’s sort of an odd reaction after Jesus delivers all those fish, isn’t it?

My guess (and it’s actually the only explanation I can think of…) is that between the first meeting in John chapter 1 and this meeting in Luke chapter 5, Simon Peter has stopped following Jesus, despite the endorsement he heard from John the Baptist.  Peter is ashamed and a little scared that he had in some sense abandoned Jesus – now when he sees an undeniable display of God-like power, his first reaction is to just want Jesus to leave because of his sin.  So I’m thinking the situation is just like it looks in Luke 5.  Simon Peter left Jesus and went back to his fishing business.

This also makes sense out of why Jesus makes such an extravagant show of generosity and power.  He wants to prove to Simon Peter and the others that if they follow him, they are not risking starvation or bankruptcy.  One way or another (and the way will be chosen by Jesus and will always be according to God’s will), they will be able to live if they choose Jesus.

The reaction of these men who will one day be the Lord’s apostles on whom he will found his church (Rev. 21:14) is exactly the right reaction.  This time, they left everything and followed him.

Wouldn’t it be great if Jesus would make our living for us?

So if I’m reading this thing correctly, Jesus has proven with an extravagant gesture that he can take care of these men on a fulltime basis.  What do you think?  Wouldn’t it be great if Jesus would just dump a huge pile of fish on us (figuratively speaking, of course!!), so we would know our living is taken care of?

In a way, he actually does promise to do that.

The thing to remember is that the vocation to which he was calling these men was a special one, that of apostleship.  He must have them fulltime, so he shows his power to provide.  And they leave everything to follow him.  They accept the vocation.

The matter of vocation is critical here.  Jesus hasn’t called you or me to be apostles.

More than likely, he has called us either to married life or single life as a faithful Christian.  A description of our role in the “living” we make to feed and support ourselves is this:

Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life and attend to your own business and work with your hands, just as we commanded you, so that you may behave properly toward outsiders and not be in any need.    I Thessalonians 4:11,12

This meshes perfectly with what Jesus promises in the Sermon on the Mount.  Jesus tells us (the ones called to the vocations of married life and single life) that God will take care of us, too.  He says he will take care of us the way he does birds and grass.  Birds have to fly around and get food, sometimes they have to migrate, maybe they eat different things at different times.  But it’s not like birds just sit on a branch and God has worms delivered each day.  The birds have to participate in God’s nature.  Grass is the same way – the grass has a role to play in its livelihood, too.  Here is how he puts it:

Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not worth much more than they?  …Observe how the lilies of the field grow; they do not toil, nor do they spin, yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory did not clothe himself like one of these.     Seek first God’s kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.    Matthew 6:26,28,29

So the bottom line is that Simon Peter and the other apostles got the support they needed to be apostles.  And we get the support we need to carry out the vocations to which we are called.  Jesus promises it.

What in the world does this have to do with Lent?

Just this.  Lent calls us to renounce self and follow Jesus.  We are called to trust him by yielding our life to him.  But a reason some people refuse to do that is money.  Despite what Jesus says about birds and grass, the thing they want is a big 401(k), and a lovely house, and nice shopping and all the rest of the things you see in ads.  They spend their life’s energy pursuing money and what it can buy and almost none of their time dedicating themselves to Jesus.  An hour at Mass once a week is what Jesus gets.  Maybe a prayer every so often while doing something else at the same time.  Rather than maximize their dedication to God’s righteousness like Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount, they maximize their income.

But if we Christians will just do what Jesus says to do – “seek first God’s kingdom and his righteousness” – then he will take care of our physical needs as we “attend to our business and work with our hands” like St. Paul commands.  No particular reason to expect to be rich, but if I really love God and his righteousness with all my being, then “rich” has nothing to do with money.  “Rich” has everything to do with knowing Jesus.

God will take care of us like he did Peter and James and John.  I should renounce myself and trust God.

 If we have food and covering, with these we shall be content. 

But those who want to get rich fall into temptation and a snare

 and many foolish and harmful desires which plunge men into ruin and destruction.

I Timothy 6:8,9

Background noise



Everybody has a set of thoughts that sort of “run in the background” of their mind all the time.  Thoughts that are never far from the surface, thoughts that can pop up repeatedly and unexpectedly.  Thoughts that last for years.

I call this background noise.  Recently, I mentioned this to several friends and they all agree it happens.  Is it a threat?  Can it be made to serve God?  How does a person’s background noise change?

Obviously, different people have different background noise.  Even when it’s not consciously in your mind, it’s still there.  A person with a cancer diagnosis – or somebody aching to be married – or a family in Afghanistan vulnerable to war.  These will all have different sets of background noise in their minds that could last for years and could very well color everything else in their life.

Here is the background noise that’s been in my mind for years

Here is my own background noise.  I tell you this to explain what I’m talking about when I say “background noise”.  I have three sets of thoughts in my mind seemingly without interruption.  One seems dangerous.  Another is perhaps neutral.  The third is good and I’m glad it’s there.

This is the one that seems neutral.  Eight years ago I lost a business I founded.  For nine years, I poured all my energy and a lot of money into that business.  Eventually it cost me almost every dollar I had.  I was able to shut down without owing anybody any money, so in that sense the loss was not dishonorable.  Yet eight years later, I can’t go more than a few hours without thinking of that business, its failure, and my one-time hopes.

Here’s the one that seems dangerous.  I have an inordinate appetite for attention and recognition.  It seems like I can’t stop thinking about ways to get noticed.  Everything at church, everything in my private devotions and good works, generates background noise hoping somebody notices and says something to me.  This is dangerous because Jesus issues a strict warning at the first of Matthew 6 against practicing religion “to be seen of men”.

Here’s the background noise that is the good one.  It is a grace I’ve been given and I’m so thankful for it.  I cannot get the Mass out of my mind.  I get to be at Mass three times a week.  I have almost constant thoughts that either anticipate the liturgy or recall it.  The beauty and power and transcendence of Catholic liturgy haunt me.  I suppose it’s impossible to know how this “noise”, this habit of thought, protects me as well.

Here’s a little Bible… then a very important conclusion

The closing words of St. Paul’s letter to the Philippians:

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

 

This is the middle of the letter to the Colossians, again St. Paul.  This seems to me the central point in the letter.

If then you were raised with Christ, seek what is above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God.  Think of what is above, not of what is on earth.  For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.

 

Here’s a third one.  This is Jesus in Matthew 6, the Sermon on the Mount

So do not worry and say, ‘What are we to eat?’ or ‘What are we to drink?’ or ‘What are we to wear?’  All these things the pagans seek. Your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.  But seek first the kingdom (of God) and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides.  Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself.  Sufficient for a day is its own evil.

An important conclusion

It is tempting (but wrong) to consider myself as “a given”.  It’s tempting to act as if nothing can be done about the background noise in my mind, to conclude (along with the great philosopher Popeye the Sailor Man) that “I am what I am”.  One reason this is tempting is that it’s less effort if I can just treat “me” as something “I” have been saddled with.  After all, if nothing can be done, then there’s no reason for me to spend effort and discipline and frustration.

A related reason tempting me to treat the background noise as something I cannot change is that this assumption lets me avoid the messy, difficult project of self-renunciation — the project to which we are called in Christianity in general and in Lent in particular.  I can’t renounce myself if I can’t even change myself, so I can just stay little ole me and figure maybe it will all take care of itself in Purgatory.

 

But those Bible verses above won’t let me do that.  They mean that I do have power over the background noise in my mind.  A real exercise in self-renunciation is to do my best to make the background noise in my mind wholesome and useful and centered somehow on God.  Jesus and St. Paul would never tell me to do something impossible.  If my background noise is constant worry… well, Jesus says to stop it.  If my background noise is repeated selfish thoughts… well, St. Paul tells me to move my mind higher.  If every time I turn around, I’m thinking about sex… well, quit it!

I should pray for help, remembering that God and Mary and the saints are all on my side.

I should do what I can to discipline my mind to shut out the bad background noise.

I should conscientiously seek good background noise to supplant the bad.

I should discuss my background noise with a priest, maybe in confession.

And always, I should look for chances to practice love, to engage in corporal and spiritual acts of mercy.

With time and application, I can change the background noise in my mind.

With God’s help, I can put my mind on things above, where Christ is.

I can use the things of earth to learn to love the things of heaven.

A present for Queen Elizabeth?



Let’s say I want to “do something” for Queen Elizabeth, something that would mean a lot to her, that would somehow make her better off.   She’s one of the richest people in the world and doesn’t exactly have any shortages.  What would I give her?  She likes purses and those hats… but there’s not much point to give her another purse.  A knick-knack?  Probably not.  Maybe I stop by the palace and wash a couple of cars for her?  Honestly, what do I give Queen Elizabeth?  She’s got everything.

The question is not entirely irrelevant.  As a Christian, I am called to serve God and give gifts to him, especially at Lent.  If it’s hard to know what to give Queen Elizabeth, then what in the world can I do for God that will mean anything to him?

It would help to know what she loves

If I know what Queen Elizabeth loves, then it will be easier to decide what to give her or do for her.  Is there a group of people she really loves?  If I could do something for them, then that would benefit her, too.   Here’s one.  She is patroness of a charity called Friends of the Elderly.  Looks like a cool place and if I were to dig in and help that charity, then I really have done something for the Queen of England.  If she found out, of course she would be grateful.  Because I love what she loves.

It goes without saying that if one of her children or grandchildren were in trouble, and I was able to solve the problem, then the Queen would take notice.  I would have done something for her, as well as for her child, because I have aided what she loves.

For that matter, she’s got those dogs.  Is there a charity that looks out for that kind of dog?  If there is, then if I could do something for that kind of dog, I have also done something for Queen Elizabeth, something that really would make a difference to her, not just the dogs.  Again, it’s because I love what she loves.

The principle here is that even if I am in no position to make a given person any better off, yet if I love and work for what that person loves, then I have really and honestly benefitted the individual, too.  Loving what they love is a real gift to them.

It’s pretty obvious how this ties into God

As a Christian, I want to make God happy.  I want to give him something, I want to do him a favor.  But if it’s even hard to do something for Queen Elizabeth, good grief it might be even harder to do something for God.

Yet I know what God loves, because he told me.  Here’s some of what he said.

Romans 5:8  God demonstrates his own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.  God loves people that are estranged from him.  So… if I will love the people around me enough to live the truth and share the truth with them – if I will find ways to bring the Gospel to them because I love them, then I have given God something he wants, something that actually pleases the Creator of everything.  I love what God loves and that’s about all I can do for him.

Psalm 146:8  The Lord loves the righteous.  God loves the Church.  He loves the people whose lives are hidden in Christ and who obey him.  So… if I will find ways to help the Church prosper in her mission and ways to become more pure in her service to God, then I have given God something he wants.  Since I benefit what he loves, then I have come to his attention in a good way.

Isaiah 58:6,7   Is this not the fast which I choose, to loosen the bonds of wickedness, to undo the bands of the yoke, and to let the oppressed go free and break every yoke?  Is it not to divide your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into the house; when you see the naked, to cover him, and not to hide yourself from your own flesh?  God loves poor people.  It’s impossible to read the Bible and not come to the conclusion God has a soft spot in his heart for poor people.  So…  if I do something for somebody poor, then I help somebody God cares about.  The Isaiah 58 passage even goes on to say that God will extravagantly bless me if I help poor people and those who suffer unjustly.  I love what God loves and he makes good things happen for me, too.

Matthew 5:44,45   Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, in order that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven; for he causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.  God loves his enemies.  Amazing.  At the end of his life, Jesus talks about people who stone the prophets and kill God’s messengers, yet Jesus says he would gladly have “gathered them together like a hen does her chicks”.  Jesus loved God’s enemies.  So… if I, too, will love God’s enemies (which will obviously include my enemies and that’s where it gets hard), then I’m doing something for the people God loves.  I’m doing something for God, giving him something he appreciates, because I love what he loves.

If you want to do something for God, then love what he loves.

It is a way to imitate God without “playing God”.

Use the things of this world to learn to love the things of heaven.

The widow’s mites and Lenten gifts



Giving away money can be a touchy issue.  Jesus does not avoid difficult issues.  He raises hard questions and sometimes he does not give a direct answer to the question.  Both Luke and Mark record a situation toward the end of Jesus’ life when he sees a widow throw a couple of almost worthless coins into the Temple collection.  He calls attention to her saying that her contribution was the largest.  Here is how Mark words it.

He sat down opposite the treasury and observed how the crowd put money into the treasury.  Many rich people put in large sums.   A poor widow also came and put in two small coins worth a few cents.  Calling his disciples to himself, he said to them, “Amen, I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all the other contributors to the treasury.  For they have all contributed from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has contributed all she had, her whole livelihood.”    Mark 12:41-44

This situation raises questions that can be sort of troubling.  Especially at Lent, when the Church urges us to give money for Christian works.

Does Jesus mean for me to imitate this widow?

Maybe the first thing to note is that Jesus neither commands nor even recommends that anyone imitate the widow in “contribut[ing] all she had, her whole livelihood”.  He doesn’t say let this be an example for you to follow and he definitely doesn’t say anything snarky like if we just had more like her, we could get something done around here.  He simply calls attention to her sacrifice, which no one else saw.  Perhaps knowing that in a few days he too would give all on the cross, he was touched by how her gift mirrored his.

But just because Jesus doesn’t say we have to be like this widow doesn’t mean grabby little Christians can breathe a sigh of relief and hang onto their money even in Lent.  Get your Bible out and look at these passages in Luke’s Gospel.  All are quotes from Jesus.

  • No one of you can be my disciple unless he gives up all his possessions   Luke 14:33
  • Sell your possessions and give to charity   Luke 12:33
  • Give to everyone who asks of you   Luke 6:30

So could Jesus really mean for me to give away everything like the widow?

What about St. Peter and St. Paul?  What do they say?

Everybody knows that if the Bible has a lot to say about some subject, then our responsibility is to look at all the passages and use our faith and intelligence and conscience to understand what God is asking of us.  The Bible has a lot to say about money and possessions.  A lot.

 

In Acts 5, a Christian couple named Ananias and Sapphira sold a piece of property, then they gave part of the money to St. Peter for the church treasury.  But they lied to Peter and said they gave all the money.  Long story short – they were both struck dead for lying about what they did.  When Peter is chewing out Ananias for lying, he says this:

But Peter said, “Ananias, why has Satan filled your heart so that you lied to the holy Spirit and retained part of the price of the land?  While it remained unsold, did it not remain yours? And when it was sold, was it not still under your control? Why did you contrive this deed? You have lied not to human beings, but to God.”   Acts 5:4

 

St. Peter says it would have been OK for Ananias to keep part or even all of the money.  The problem was lying, not what Ananias did with the money.

Here is what St. Paul says to praise people in Macedonia who contributed to a collection for the Christians in Jerusalem.  These people are almost exactly like the widow who gave everything she had.

We want you to know, brothers, of the grace of God that has been given to the churches of Macedonia, for in a severe test of affliction, the abundance of their joy and their profound poverty overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part.  For according to their means, I can testify, and beyond their means, spontaneously, they begged us insistently for the favor of taking part in the service to the holy ones, and this, not as we expected, but they gave themselves first to the Lord and to us through the will of God.  For if the eagerness is there, it is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what one does not have.   II Corinthians 8:1-5, 12

 

So St. Paul solves the difficulty for us.  First, give yourself to God entirely and enthusiastically, then give gifts to Christian charity according to your ability.  It is fair to conclude that Jesus’ statements seemingly to the effect that I must give everything away are, in fact, statements of giving me to Jesus and to others.  And when I give me away, by implication, I give him all that I possess – if I am entirely at Jesus’ disposal to use me as he wants, then my money comes along as part of the deal.

And that fits in perfectly with other things I know about Jesus.  What Jesus wants more than anything is to have a deep relationship with me that eventually enables me to become like him, that eventually enables me to spend eternity with him.  That’s what he wants – and since I live in a material world, this relationship with Jesus includes material goods as well as spiritual.  Jesus wants me to use my money the same way he used his entire life when he was with us on earth.  He wants me to use my money to help other people in ways that glorify God and bring other people to Jesus.

A real relation with the Creator of the entire universe involves me and everything I have.

God gives generously, even to his enemies.  By imitating God with my money, I become more like him and grow closer to him.

Use the things of this world to learn to love the things of heaven.

Why should I do without anything?



There is an interesting “intersection” between something secondary during Lent and something else that is central to the Gospel itself.

The secondary thing is the popular question “What are you giving up for Lent?”

The central-to-the-gospel thing is Jesus saying “Whoever wishes to come after me, let him deny himself.”

Let’s start with the big stuff

It’s sort of surprising how much leeway God gives me in the matter of whether I choose him as my friend or not.  I get to choose, and since he is my master and creator and owner, that’s actually pretty surprising.  God does not overwhelm me with displays of his power or his love, nor does he overrule me if I make the decision to live without him.

But God doesn’t leave me to just stumble around in the dark, either.  There are all sorts of things he uses to draw me to him.  My conscience is one.  My innate need to worship and its counterpart need for beauty.  That story about Jesus that the world just cannot quite get out of its mind.  The Church, which stands constantly as witness to the truth and power and love of God.  These and many more draw me to God.

So when Jesus says I have to deny myself in order to follow him, it is the context of this choice he allows me to make.  What he means is that I cannot remain full of my own desires and my own motives and goals and yet somehow believe I will still be able to follow him.  He means I cannot be so full of me that there is no room for him.  If I follow Jesus, he is going to take up a lot of room in me and I will have to get out of his way.

This is not because Jesus is some kind of a control freak or an egomaniac.  It’s because that’s just how things work when a small creature like me chooses to surrender to the overwhelming Creator of everything there is.  I must make room for him.

Here’s part of how St. Paul describes the process of getting out of Jesus’ way

St. Paul wrote this toward the end of his life.

Whatever gains I had, these I have come to consider a loss because of Christ.  More than that, I even consider everything as a loss because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have accepted the loss of all things and I consider them so much rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having any righteousness of my own based on the law but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God, depending on faith to know him and the power of his resurrection and [the] sharing of his sufferings by being conformed to his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead.   Philippians 3:7-11

 

St. Paul had been prominent and even powerful in his corner of the world before he became a Christian.  All of that had to be given up after he followed Jesus – in fact, there was an amazing amount of physical suffering (beatings and imprisonments and betrayals and the like), plus mental suffering after he became a Christian.  And Paul says that is ok with him.  If you read the whole book of Philippians (go ahead and do that – it’s a great read), it turns out St. Paul is happy to suffer for Jesus and give up “whatever it takes” for him.

The Philippians passage shows two reasons for St. Paul’s willingness to do without for the sake of Jesus.

First, he wants to know Jesus and giving up stuff is part of that process for him.  St. Paul made a lot of powerful enemies when he became a Christian, so of course that has a price.  Having powerful enemies usually costs quite a bit.  Other things that he gave up had to do with his old religion, a religion that had been perfected and fulfilled in Jesus.  So he had to give up that old religion, too.  Here’s the point – he absolutely could not have held onto old friends and old religion and at the same time been able to know Jesus.  He had to give these things up and he was glad to.  Jesus is worth it.

Second, there’s a huge payoff for St. Paul in giving stuff up.   He says he accepts the loss of all things.  And he says that in return he receives the righteousness that comes from faith in Christ, plus he will be resurrected from the dead.  That’s huge!  You think Warren Buffett gets a nice return on investment?  He gets nothing compared to what Paul and every Christian gets.

So the bottom line is that St. Paul does not give up things just to be giving them up.  Giving up things is part of the process of coming to Jesus and staying with him.  What St. Paul calls “the loss of all things” is pretty much what Jesus calls “denying self”.  The giving up – the denying of self – is done in order to obtain something even better.

So what does this have to do with giving up something for Lent?

If you received ashes last Wednesday, there are two things the minister may have said to you.  One of them is “Repent, and believe in the gospel.”  So the big thing about giving up something for Lent has to do with sin.  If you are still refusing to repent of some sin, if you are willfully engaging in some sin, then by all means repent.  Give up that sin.  The stakes are high.  This is a huge part of the self-denial Jesus talks about.  It is even the way that St. Mark opens his Gospel.

After John had been taken into custody, Jesus came into Galilee, preaching the gospel of God, and saying “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent, and believe in the gospel.”

In addition to repenting from sin, the Church also encourages what could be called ritual renunciation, the giving up of small things during Lent.  These do have a connection with the self-denial that Jesus says is required of every one of his disciples and the “loss of all things” that St. Paul speaks of in his own life.  These ritual renunciations can enrich our lives and draw us closer to God.  Even though we all make jokes about giving up our boss for Lent or something like that, we ought to be thoughtful about engaging in ritual renunciations.

  • Given the crowded nature of our schedules these days, consider giving up something that will free up some time – then give that time to God and the Church in prayer or Christian service.
  • The Church has always encouraged what are sometimes called mortifications, physical disciplines on the body that constitute a form of exercise of our will over our flesh.  The most obvious example is fasting, but there are others.  St. Paul mentions in I Corinthians 7 that a married couple might refrain from sex for a period of time in order to devote themselves to prayer.  I hear of folks who temporarily give up television or some favorite pastime in order to devote themselves to some Christian service or study.
  • The thing I give up will cause me discomfort.  (Duh.)  And that discomfort can itself be offered to God as a sort of prayer, a plea that God will use my discomfort in whatever way may please him to unite me more closely to Jesus.  Or unite me more closely to people all over the world who suffer in a similar way, but whose suffering is forced on them, rather than just voluntary like mine.
  •  So in a particular way, I can offer my discomfort, my small sacrifice in Lent, to God and ask him to unite that discomfort to the suffering of Jesus and the world, and thus draw me closer to him in love.
  • This is not masochism, nor is it superstition, nor is it some tactic to force God to give me a special favor.  It is simply the response of one person to another (me to God) saying I want to become even closer to you.  I want to grow in love and devotion.  I want you to be not merely the center of my life, but the whole of my life, and I offer you this small sacrifice of time and comfort in Lent hoping to be united more closely to you in eternity.
  • These voluntary deprivations may, if it pleases God, be part of schooling for real and deep suffering later in life.
  • We hope to use the things of this world to learn to love the things of heaven.

Use Lent to make some extra room for God.

Offer God your sacrifice in union with Jesus and with those who suffer involuntarily.

It will help you to celebrate Easter with joy.