Showing posts with label Cursillo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cursillo. Show all posts

10 February 2016

Encountering God

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
I am a planner.  And so, after I was confirmed in eighth grade, I started to think about what I wanted to be when I grew up.  I was thinking about that because I was about to enter high school, and I wanted to make sure that I did well in the classes in that general field, so I could get into a good college so that I could get the job I wanted.  Because I was in a Catholic school, and had been since kindergarten, I knew that if I was going to be happy in my job, it had to be what God wanted me to do.  So I started to pray every day, asking God what He wanted me to do with my life.  I heard no answer, and was a bit frustrated that God was not answering me when I wanted.
So, once I started going to Lansing Catholic High School, I started to go to Mass on weekdays in addition to Sunday, figuring that I would force God to answer me.  One day, at Mass, the priest was a little late, and a nun, that didn’t really know that well, told me that when I became a priest, I should never be late.  In addition, friends of mine kept suggesting that I should be a priest or wondering if that’s what I wanted to do.  Though I was sure I wanted to be married, have kids, and maybe enter a profession in law, I decided to look into the priesthood, and asked priests I knew what it was like to be a priest.
I started, at that moment, to fall in love, not with a girl, but with the church.  The more I knew about her, even with her imperfections, the more I knew I wanted to serve her and dedicate my entire life to her.  I petitioned Bishop Mengeling to enter college seminary after I graduated from high school.  My love for the church continued to grow, and I continued to want to serve God’s people, especially through the sacramental life of the Church, as I progressed through seminary.  It wasn’t always easy, and there were times that I considered leaving, especially my senior year of college seminary, where I was sure the beautiful Catholic girl in my astronomy class was a sign from God that I should get married.  But the Lord helped me to see that I would be truly happy by being a priest.
I tell that story because we should all have a story to tell when it comes to our relationship with God.  It’s not just for priests or religious brothers or sisters.  Maybe it’s not a vocation story, like mine, but hopefully we all have a story of a time that God interacted with us in our lives.  Today we hear about Isaiah’s encounter with God the Father and Simon Peter’s encounter with Jesus.  Those are certainly powerful stories, with major moments that God breaks through in their lives.  But it doesn’t always happen that way.  In my own life, I have rarely had “mountaintop experiences,” and, while they do happen, for many people there are no major moments, but, rather, they see how God led them through different aspects of their life.
Mary, who was confirmed Saturday evening at Mass, has her story of what led her to the Catholic faith.  Damian, Deanna, and Jake, our catechumens, will be sent to the Rite of Election this weekend.  They have their own stories of what led them to the Catholic faith and their relationship with God.  I invite you to think about your own life of faith.  Where has God interacted with you?  Again, it may not be a big moment, but hopefully you can think of a way that God has guided you in a way you understood.  If you don’t, I encourage you to spend time in prayer with God, read the Gospels, maybe go to the Men’s or Women’s Conference in the next year, go on a retreat like Cursillo or another retreat that the Diocese of Lansing offers.  That will help you to think back on a way that God has led you, or maybe will give you your first experience of God interacting with you in your life in a way you recognize.

God calls us and interacts with us throughout our life.  May we look for the ways that God encounters us and we encounter God, and, as we find them, listen to the voice of Jesus who tells us, as he told Simon Peter, “‘Be not afraid.’”

12 August 2014

Get Out of the Boat!!


Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
            This is one of those Gospel passages we’ve heard a lot in our life if we’ve been going to church every Sunday.  We probably heard it as children as our parents read the Bible to us or told us Bible stories.  Perhaps it’s so familiar to us that we don’t even really think about it any more, or go deeper.  But the point of repetition is so that we don’t just stay at the surface level, especially when it comes to the Scriptures and the Liturgy.  When we’ve heard a story over and over again, we’re not supposed to think: that’s boring!  We’re supposed to think: I know what the main story is, now what more is there to this that I haven’t found?
            I’d like to propose that St. Peter, who is often the “bad guy” in this story for his lack of faith, be reconsidered.  Certainly, we cannot change Jesus’ words that do mourn Peter’s lack of faith as he is sinking amid the waves.  But, where, we can ask, were the other eleven apostles?  St. Peter was at least bold enough to start out on the waters at Jesus’ command.  The others, at least from the text, never even considered going to Jesus, but just stayed in the boat as the wind and waves crashed around them.
            If anything, we should applaud the fact that St. Peter was willing, at his own suggestion, to walk on water like Jesus.  It was Peter who said that if that specter on the horizon was Jesus, to command him to walk on water.  St. Peter showed a deep faith at first, trusting that Jesus, His Master, and His Lord, would not let him sink.  Instead, we tend to focus on that one line, “‘O you of little faith, why did you doubt?’”
            But where was the faith of the eleven other apostles?  Where were their bold acts of rushing towards Jesus?  But, lest self-righteous indignation start to creep in, whether at the lack of faith of St. Peter or the lack of faith of the other eleven, we then have to turn back to ourselves and consider: where are our bold acts?  When was the last time we rushed to the Lord?
            Besides maybe breaking local speed laws to get to church on time, when was the last time we rushed to see Jesus?  When was the last time we went out on the waters, though the wind was strong and the waves were around us, to be close to Jesus?  For the ancient people, especially the Jews, water was a sign of life, but it was also a sign of chaos and death and destruction.  At the beginning, God has to order the waters of chaos.  Water is what kills the evil generation in the days of Noah.  Water just as likely killed as give life.  And yet, Jesus is out there, with no fear of the chaos, and, in fact, standing over it, with the waters of chaos under the dominion of His feet.  And it is over those waters of chaos that Peter goes out to Jesus.
            We are sometimes afraid to go to meet Jesus because of the chaos that surrounds our life.  Our fear to run to Jesus is related to whether or not we know Jesus.  St. Peter loved Jesus, and was willing to do anything for Him, because Peter had spent months and years following Him.  How much time do we spend with Jesus?  Do we know how to recognize His presence?
            In our first reading, the ways that Elijah does not experience God are classical ways that God reveals Himself, what we call a theophany.  In the Old Testament, God frequently reveals Himself in a strong wind, in an earthquake, in a fire.  But this time, with Elijah, God only reveals Himself in the silence.  And this presence of God is so powerful that Elijah has to hide his face in his cloak. 
            God still reveals Himself in many ways: in the poor; in those who mourn; in a beautiful Mass; in a stunning sunset; and the list goes on and on.  But God often reveals Himself in silence.  And we are not a society that likes silence.  I certainly include myself in that last statement.  I love to have my iTunes playing on my phone, or the radio on in my car, or the TV on, even if just for background noise.  It takes effort for me to have silence, even though I try to get at least a good 45 minutes per day of silent prayer with God.  Silence is difficult sometimes.  Sometimes silence is scary, because in the silence, we can actually hear God speak.  And if we are afraid of what God will say, it’s easier to flood our world with noise.  I try to provide some silence here in Mass: purposeful silence, not just waiting for the next thing to start.  But we need more than what we can get in the Mass.  We need time to be alone with God.  We need time to encounter God in a real way.  One easy way is by spending time with Jesus in adoration of the Blessed Sacrament every Tuesday evening form 5:45-7 p.m.  Jesus is there.  All we have to do is come by and visit. 
Another great way to be alone with God is through a retreat.  In our diocese we are trying to reinvigorate the Cursillo retreat, a time where we get to know God and know ourselves better, and have a personal encounter with God.  We all need a personal encounter with God.  We all need to have a time in our life that we can say that we met Jesus.  If not, our faith will grow weaker, and we will not be convincing witnesses to Jesus.  You cannot give what you don’t have.  If we don’t have Jesus, we cannot give Him to others.  Whether it’s Cursillo, or any other Catholic retreat, we need to encounter Jesus.  Only then will we have the courage to get out of the boat like Peter and rush to Jesus.  I know we’re all busy.  But this is important.  In the coming years, it looks more and more like our faith will be tested in public.  If we don’t have a personal encounter with Jesus, we will deny Him by our words and deeds.  If you knew your eternal salvation depended on a time with Jesus, would you take it?  Because our eternal salvation does rely on personally knowing Jesus, not just knowing about Him.  Retreats are perfect times to encounter Jesus.  Our times of Adoration on Tuesday nights are perfect times to encounter Jesus.  May our faith be strong enough to jump out of the apparent safety of the boat of our lives and rush to Jesus, even walking on water to get to Him, knowing that He will not let us drown.