January 2 - Readings of the Day
After a week spent looking at the manger and contemplating the great gift that God has given us, the gift of His own self, now I am asked to look at my relationship with this mystery. How do I react to the coming of the Lord into my life? What kind of life am I supposed to live now that I know that God is with us?
As I continue to meditate on 1 John, I hear in the background the controversies that were going on at that time; although a bit different, these controversies are still going on today: Who is Jesus? And what does it have to do with me?
How strong the temptation to romanticize the "first time" of Christianity, when everybody seemed to get along, when they understood who Jesus is, lived out His words and were filled with the Holy Spirit. The reality is that they struggled more than I do in understanding who Jesus is. I have the luxury of standing on the shoulder of the great thinkers of early Christianity, from John to Basil and Gregory (whom we remember today). Yes, they struggle to understand who Jesus was: was He simply a powerful and spiritual man? was He God? but if He is either a man or God, then what does salvation mean? Today these questions can only find a bit more clarity then at the time of John, since they are all a mystery... but we all struggle.
The struggle points to something deep and important: if we stay with what Jesus said, and we understand Him correctly than we can talk about a fellowship with God, about a deeper communion and union with Him. This is what we have been called to: sharing in God's life as He now shares in ours.
But how can I do that? How can I grow in this relationship? The story of John in the Gospel helps me. Before the manger I hear, too, hear the question: "Who are you?" and "what do you say about yourself?" I need to answer these questions. If I want to proclaim Jesus as Messiah, I have no other choice but to answer these questions.
"I am not the Messiah, the Christ." This is how John answers. This is how I am supposed to answer, too. "I am Not...."If I say that Jesus is the Messiah, the Savior, the Redeemer than I say that I am NOT all those things. But, as I keep my eyes on the manger, I know that these opposing realities are now merged into one as a "holy exchange". I am not the Savior but I live as a "saved" person. I am not the redeemer but I live as a redeemed.
This is what I want to witness, then. The "holy exchange" is a reality and we can live our lives together with God. Ultimately, the truth comes up again: we are more truly ourselves when we think less about ourselves.
It's time to start a new kind of Christian Witness Program.
Meditations, reflections and thoughts on how to "live the truth in love" (Eph 4:15).
Monday, January 2, 2012
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Peace and blessing: from where?
Dec 31-Jan 1 - Mary, Mother of God - Readings of the Day -
It's the last day of the year. The liturgy is filled with images and thoughts: end of the year, day of peace and the solemnity of Mary, the mother of God. Is it too much? How can I focus when all these things, apparently competing with each other, fill my mind and take all my attention?
Actually, when I let the Spirit guide me through the readings I can see that everything is there. Mary takes the prominent place even though she does and says nothing: she is the background against which all the characters in the Gospel act and make the Good News of Christmas a new reality for all of us.
Because of her Yes to God's Will, we have now received not just "a" Blessing from God; we have now the source of all Blessings living in our midst as we let Him be born and re-born in us. In the First Reading, we hear that God keeps His face shining before us, and He is gracious to us.
What does that mean? Before the coming of Jesus, God's people were afraid to see His face because they knew they would die. Now His face is a human face: it's Jesus' face. We can gaze upon Him and see God's own; more surprisingly, we can see it reflected upon each other's face. It seems natural, when we see a newborn baby, to see if the baby looks more like the mother or the father. Now that we have all made God's children, we all have something of our Father in heaven impressed on our face. Each person I meet looks a bit like Jesus (or viceversa). Every time I see myself in the mirror I can courageously say that I look a bit like God and when I talk to whomever is before me, I have to develop and keep a sense of awe because I am talking to someone who is related to God.
The Lord be gracious to you. It's a way of saying that now the Lord has turned His face towards you, looking at you. It's the beginning of a new type of relationship with God, one that begins by looking at Him and call Him "father." What a privilege we have to call Him this way. How can I grow in this awareness this upcoming year? How can I make a new year resolution to grow in this intimacy that is proper of a child with the Father?
It's the last day of the year. The liturgy is filled with images and thoughts: end of the year, day of peace and the solemnity of Mary, the mother of God. Is it too much? How can I focus when all these things, apparently competing with each other, fill my mind and take all my attention?
Actually, when I let the Spirit guide me through the readings I can see that everything is there. Mary takes the prominent place even though she does and says nothing: she is the background against which all the characters in the Gospel act and make the Good News of Christmas a new reality for all of us.
Because of her Yes to God's Will, we have now received not just "a" Blessing from God; we have now the source of all Blessings living in our midst as we let Him be born and re-born in us. In the First Reading, we hear that God keeps His face shining before us, and He is gracious to us.
What does that mean? Before the coming of Jesus, God's people were afraid to see His face because they knew they would die. Now His face is a human face: it's Jesus' face. We can gaze upon Him and see God's own; more surprisingly, we can see it reflected upon each other's face. It seems natural, when we see a newborn baby, to see if the baby looks more like the mother or the father. Now that we have all made God's children, we all have something of our Father in heaven impressed on our face. Each person I meet looks a bit like Jesus (or viceversa). Every time I see myself in the mirror I can courageously say that I look a bit like God and when I talk to whomever is before me, I have to develop and keep a sense of awe because I am talking to someone who is related to God.
The Lord be gracious to you. It's a way of saying that now the Lord has turned His face towards you, looking at you. It's the beginning of a new type of relationship with God, one that begins by looking at Him and call Him "father." What a privilege we have to call Him this way. How can I grow in this awareness this upcoming year? How can I make a new year resolution to grow in this intimacy that is proper of a child with the Father?
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Beginnings are hard... but possible

Christmas time is almost overwhelming. Since the celebration of Christmas Masses, I have been taken - once again - but the maddening Love that God has for us: "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us." For me, this is truly the most scandalous verse in the Bible. This is the verse that motivates me and urges me to do whatever it takes so the reality of "Jesus living in our midst" can be experienced by many.
As a Church we are meditating on the stories of the Birth of Christ and we have as a background the First Letter of John. We hear powerful words: fellowship, light/darkness, love/hate.
If we believe that Christ is truly born, then we can live a new type of lifestyle: we are in fellowship with God and with one another; if we believe that Christ is truly born, then we see the world differently because He is the light that pierces through the darkness; if we believe that Christ is born, then we see each other differently and we realize that the Fellowship we have with God is lived out by loving each other.
How often I see Christianity reduced to some form of devotionalism ("I say my prayers, I go to a prayer meeting or adoration... I am fine with God"), or a form of activism ("I do a lot of charity work, so I am doing fine") or a form of Gnosticism ("I read a lot/know a lot about God... so I am fine"). But John the Evangelist tells us that our life as Christian is based on a Fellowship: all these things, prayer, works of Charity and learning about God, sustain our fellowship but do take its place. But fellowships point to a relationship and these are "lived out" every day, concretely. And this is the hardest part of Christianity: living out a coherent lifestyle.
Today we take a further step. I read somewhere "Beginnings are hard." How true is that! Every time I start something new I always feel mixed emotions: enthusiasm and excitement but also anxiety that comes from knowing that I am about to do something new. How appropriate that we read this Gospel passage today: in the Presentation of the Lord to the Temple we see the "old and the new" meeting each other. While I see "Prophecy" and "Fulfillment" dialoguing together, I can't help thinking of my old year and the new one. These two dimensions do not take each other out but complement and must be integrated.
Our life of Fellowship with God and Neighbor is hard. The reading given to us today makes us aware that this Fellowship must be concrete. John helps us by making us aware of two things: 1) we must live the Word (this will help up to avoid turning Christianity into something made in our own image); 2) we must focus on Reciprocal Love. This last point seems to be the obsession of John. I understand who important Reciprocal Love is. Only when we love we can experience and understand Christianity fully.
Then I know how we can continue to live these days of Christmas: clothing ourselves with the Word and let the Word of God shapes every gesture of ours so that by the way we Love one another we can let Jesus be born everywhere and in everyone we meet today.
This Christmas leads us to new beginnings. They are hard, but with Christ with us they can be possible.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Lowliness
22 December - Readings of the Day
"He has looked upon his lowly servant."
"My only ideal in life is to be the servant to whom the Lord gives the place He wants in His own heart and who desires only that I be faithful" (Teilhard de Chardin, my translation)
As the Advent season gets closer to its end, I am given the image of two mothers who able to see past beyond the life-changing events of their lives and are able to praise the Lord with a song. Certainly the situations are quite different: Hannah and Mary are on the opposite spectrum of life but it is what they have in common that seems to strike my attention today: they are both "lowly."
What does it mean? Who is the lowly? The dictionary based definition refers to the lowly as the "one who is humble, low in a position of honor before another who is greater." In Scripture the lowly is the one who before God is able to claim dependence and total reliance for everything. God always seems to prefer this claim so that He can do "great things."
Preparing for Christmas, therefore, requires a sense of lowliness, a sense of openness to one who is able to accomplish what we can't. How paradoxical that the image of the Greater One who comes to save is that of a vulnerable Child. Maybe this is also given to us a way of breaking away from our belief that only the strong can face battle. Mary's Magnificat seem to agree: those ones, those who rely upoin their strength, their possessions, their talents and gifts are diplaced and replaced by those who can't do a thing but they rely on God to finish up what they started.
What happens when we embrace lowliness ? We are able to see the "great riches" that God wants us to have and enjoy. Certainly not the kind of riches that allows us be stronger and more separated from Him, but that sense of fulfillment and meaning that our lives need in order to thrive, in order to be ourselves.
When we realize that lowliness leads to "new and great riches" we understand why people choose to rely on God and are willing to do His will: it brings out the best of ourselves, the best IN ourselves. Doing the will of God is truly the smartest and healthiest thing we do for ourselves.
Then, like Mary and Hannah, I want to sing a song today, a song thankfulness because He's allowing me to grow in the image of His Son which will lead me to be truly who I am.
I say Yes again; I say Yes and I commit myself to rely on His today... in all that I do, no matter how big or insignificant this might be. I know that He will do great things and in them and through them I will be greatly enriched.
"He has looked upon his lowly servant."
"My only ideal in life is to be the servant to whom the Lord gives the place He wants in His own heart and who desires only that I be faithful" (Teilhard de Chardin, my translation)
As the Advent season gets closer to its end, I am given the image of two mothers who able to see past beyond the life-changing events of their lives and are able to praise the Lord with a song. Certainly the situations are quite different: Hannah and Mary are on the opposite spectrum of life but it is what they have in common that seems to strike my attention today: they are both "lowly."
What does it mean? Who is the lowly? The dictionary based definition refers to the lowly as the "one who is humble, low in a position of honor before another who is greater." In Scripture the lowly is the one who before God is able to claim dependence and total reliance for everything. God always seems to prefer this claim so that He can do "great things."
Preparing for Christmas, therefore, requires a sense of lowliness, a sense of openness to one who is able to accomplish what we can't. How paradoxical that the image of the Greater One who comes to save is that of a vulnerable Child. Maybe this is also given to us a way of breaking away from our belief that only the strong can face battle. Mary's Magnificat seem to agree: those ones, those who rely upoin their strength, their possessions, their talents and gifts are diplaced and replaced by those who can't do a thing but they rely on God to finish up what they started.
What happens when we embrace lowliness ? We are able to see the "great riches" that God wants us to have and enjoy. Certainly not the kind of riches that allows us be stronger and more separated from Him, but that sense of fulfillment and meaning that our lives need in order to thrive, in order to be ourselves.
When we realize that lowliness leads to "new and great riches" we understand why people choose to rely on God and are willing to do His will: it brings out the best of ourselves, the best IN ourselves. Doing the will of God is truly the smartest and healthiest thing we do for ourselves.
Then, like Mary and Hannah, I want to sing a song today, a song thankfulness because He's allowing me to grow in the image of His Son which will lead me to be truly who I am.
I say Yes again; I say Yes and I commit myself to rely on His today... in all that I do, no matter how big or insignificant this might be. I know that He will do great things and in them and through them I will be greatly enriched.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Visited and Visiting.
December 21 - Readings of the Day
Today is the shortest day of the year. The theme of the increment of light seems to be present in the Word as well. The light of the world is coming to bring us out of darkness, to put an end to the trials of this age. The blinking lights I see all around me seem to tell me about Him, too. Immediately I think, do I let His light shine through me? Do I rejoice at His arrival? Can I imagine a world without light? What difference does Light make?
These last days of preparation are becoming quite challenging for me. Yesterday, I thought that the "favored by God" lifestyle would be easier to achieve. Yet, I found it at times hard to focus and really consider myself and my neighbor as God's favorite. But I tried harder than ever to live this reality and I kept saying "Fiat," let it be done to me according to your Word.
Today, as I meditate on the Word I asked myself a question: while we are all preparing for the Coming of the Lord, what is God doing? I realized that He is preparing as well, for our coming to Him. Like the husband in the first reading, He looks forward to His coming home where He and His Bride can live in love and in intimate union. He, who created the world, longs to live in us.
I can see this longing even in the Gospel reading. The arrival, quite unexpected, of the Lord marks the newness of times. Ancient Israel experienced God's presence in the Ark which they will carry with them everywhere they went. Now the place of God's presence has been changed: no long a thing but people carry the Lord's presence. Just like Mary brought Jesus to Elizabeth, each one of us who have said Yes to God and let Jesus be born in us have the responsibility to bring Him out into the world. The Angel didn't tell Mary to go visit Elizabeth but the Lover cannot wait to encounter the Beloved and so she takes the journey to bring Jesus to her cousin. Love is dynamic, can't be stopped
Do I wait for His coming like the Bride waits for her shepherd-husband coming after a long time away? Do I long for the love and intimacy that He brings to me? Do I bring Jesus-in-me to others? How do other people react when I am present: do they feel blessed by the presence of Jesus in me? or threatened? or indifferent?
What a responsibility! In the story of the Visitation, I enter into the reality of God coming to me through another person; also, as someone who believes in God and wants to live the Gospel, I also see myself like Mary who brings Him into everywhere I go.
How can I become aware that He has changed me into a living and movable "Ark" of the covenant? How can I protect and defend the new born King so that nothing in the world can damage Him?
Today is the shortest day of the year. The theme of the increment of light seems to be present in the Word as well. The light of the world is coming to bring us out of darkness, to put an end to the trials of this age. The blinking lights I see all around me seem to tell me about Him, too. Immediately I think, do I let His light shine through me? Do I rejoice at His arrival? Can I imagine a world without light? What difference does Light make?
These last days of preparation are becoming quite challenging for me. Yesterday, I thought that the "favored by God" lifestyle would be easier to achieve. Yet, I found it at times hard to focus and really consider myself and my neighbor as God's favorite. But I tried harder than ever to live this reality and I kept saying "Fiat," let it be done to me according to your Word.
Today, as I meditate on the Word I asked myself a question: while we are all preparing for the Coming of the Lord, what is God doing? I realized that He is preparing as well, for our coming to Him. Like the husband in the first reading, He looks forward to His coming home where He and His Bride can live in love and in intimate union. He, who created the world, longs to live in us.
I can see this longing even in the Gospel reading. The arrival, quite unexpected, of the Lord marks the newness of times. Ancient Israel experienced God's presence in the Ark which they will carry with them everywhere they went. Now the place of God's presence has been changed: no long a thing but people carry the Lord's presence. Just like Mary brought Jesus to Elizabeth, each one of us who have said Yes to God and let Jesus be born in us have the responsibility to bring Him out into the world. The Angel didn't tell Mary to go visit Elizabeth but the Lover cannot wait to encounter the Beloved and so she takes the journey to bring Jesus to her cousin. Love is dynamic, can't be stopped
Do I wait for His coming like the Bride waits for her shepherd-husband coming after a long time away? Do I long for the love and intimacy that He brings to me? Do I bring Jesus-in-me to others? How do other people react when I am present: do they feel blessed by the presence of Jesus in me? or threatened? or indifferent?
What a responsibility! In the story of the Visitation, I enter into the reality of God coming to me through another person; also, as someone who believes in God and wants to live the Gospel, I also see myself like Mary who brings Him into everywhere I go.
How can I become aware that He has changed me into a living and movable "Ark" of the covenant? How can I protect and defend the new born King so that nothing in the world can damage Him?
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Creating a "Favored by God" lifestyle

The story of the Annunciation has come up quite a lot this month. And it's a familiar story which may lead to the temptation to skip it, assuming that there is nothing new for me today. It's always a mistake!
The words of the angel touch me today. "Full of Grace." Again, having already meditated on these words I was trying to focus elsewhere but my attention kept going there. These words are so filled with Good News!
I remembered that another way of translating these words is: "you have found favor." She was "favored" by God in order to be part of the new story that God wants to write with us, as one of us.
Elsewhere Jesus talks about this also: "It was not you who chose me but I who chose you..." Once again, the words speak of a favored gaze that Jesus places on each one of us. Yet, another word reminds me that "God plays no favorite." Which means that those words are not spoken only to me but to everyone.
Not only by baptism I am "full of Grace," but I am also "favored." This means that God looks at each one of us in a particular way and this way makes us "favored" by Him.
What does it mean? The dictionary says that this adjective means "to be regarded or treated with preference or partiality: or 2. enjoying special advantages; privileged: (to be born into the favored classes)." Then, when I take the Words of the Angel I understand that God regards me and treats me with preference and that I enjoy a special privilege. The best part of this is that God thinks that everybody is now "favored," and therefore there is no competition among ourselves.
What is this special privilege that God bestows on me? It's His presence. "The Lord be with you." Indeed, this is the greatest gift one can have - God who moves from the heavens now into one's heart. It's a privilege that I have received as a gift. Nothing I did or that I am doing can make me worthy of such a presence. Sadly enough, I can reject it and void the privilege.
This happens because I have found "favor" with God. Do I believe that these words are now addressed to me? Do I even grasp the real meaning of these words? I find myself catapulted again in the great mystery of God's maddening Love for us and realize that if I believe that Christmas is real, it's the feast of the Impossible things made real, then I have to believe that I have found favor with Him and that He's now willing to live in me.
If this doesn't change one's life, I don't know what does. And how beautiful it is that this reality is given to us as a premise to the whole Gospel story. The Words of Jesus make sense if they can be lived "from within." Knowing that it is Jesus who lives in us, it is He who lives the Gospel in me. And I with Him, so that the day will come when I can say "it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me."
I want to enjoy this reality: I found favor with God. But enjoyment is not sufficient: I have to live accordingly so not to waste this gift.
How can my life change and reflect what God has done? How can I see my neighbor and remind myself that even he or she has found favor with God? How can I, then, treat my neighbor as "favored" by Jesus who lives in me?
I think this is going to start a new revolution! I can't wait to go out there and start living this new lifestyle - I am "Favored." This will be my new name today.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Impossile things are possible as we say "Yes"
December 19 - Readings: 1: Judg 13:2-7,24-25 R: Ps 71:3-6,16-17 G: Lk 1:5-25
It's time to change gear. The liturgy invites me to increase my attention to the Good News. The time is nearer: Christ's coming is closer than I think.
One part of my brain just panicked: Christmas is so close and I still have cards to mail and gifts to buy. Yet, the other part seems to be rejoicing because I have been trodding the Advent path for a month and now I am ready to say Yes to the "Word-Made-Flesh," Immanuel who comes to me.
The liturgy today invites me to enter into the "impossible things" that God can do, things that the angel told Mary in yesterday's liturgy. Both readings highlight this reality: God uses my own limitations and shortcomings and transforms them into something new. I see the pattern: Both Samson's and John's parents cannot have a child: barren, old age... impossible! Yet, God uses what seems impossible and unusable by our own earthly standards and lifts them up as instruments of Christ's coming.
How many times I have said that something was impossible to be done because the "structures" (manpower, money, lack of volunteers, etc.) were not up to the task? And how many times I have been blown away by the results? The difference? One group relied completely on God and He used their "Yes" to make something beautiful. I want and I need to keep this in mind: if I believe that God is with me then I ought to remain focused on the fact that only He can do the impossible; all that is required of me is to say "Yes, let it be done to me according to your word."
I can't help noticing that the story of Zachariah happens in the Temple. Yesterday I meditated on the fact that Mary was visited by the angel in her own home. This story seems to be going in the opposite direction than that of Mary. Why? Both Mary and Zachariah expressed doubt at what the angel was telling them. But it is Mary that takes the further step and moves forward in faith, putting all her trust in the Word of God.
When I fail to take that step, I too experience a sort of spiritual "mutism." I focus on what I think it's the right thing to do, on what I think it's the right thing to say and I get dry, I realize there is nothing to say and nothing I do or say seem to bring fruit. It's the Zachariah's syndrome. Unlike him, I don't have to wait nine month to shake this off - I can ask God for forgiveness and start again by making Mary's "fiat" ("Yes, let it be done....") as my own.
But I feel Zachariah's words: How can I know this? I want to know what is ahead, I want to plan and be ready. I understand this is not always possible and I am learning, formed by the Gospel, to say Yes. I found this quote of Teillhard de Chardin: "What really matters is to adhere to the divine action that can be found everywhere; the more we submit to Him our destiny, by subtracting our planning and our control, the worthier it is of adoration." (my translation)
It's time to change gear. The liturgy invites me to increase my attention to the Good News. The time is nearer: Christ's coming is closer than I think.
One part of my brain just panicked: Christmas is so close and I still have cards to mail and gifts to buy. Yet, the other part seems to be rejoicing because I have been trodding the Advent path for a month and now I am ready to say Yes to the "Word-Made-Flesh," Immanuel who comes to me.
The liturgy today invites me to enter into the "impossible things" that God can do, things that the angel told Mary in yesterday's liturgy. Both readings highlight this reality: God uses my own limitations and shortcomings and transforms them into something new. I see the pattern: Both Samson's and John's parents cannot have a child: barren, old age... impossible! Yet, God uses what seems impossible and unusable by our own earthly standards and lifts them up as instruments of Christ's coming.
How many times I have said that something was impossible to be done because the "structures" (manpower, money, lack of volunteers, etc.) were not up to the task? And how many times I have been blown away by the results? The difference? One group relied completely on God and He used their "Yes" to make something beautiful. I want and I need to keep this in mind: if I believe that God is with me then I ought to remain focused on the fact that only He can do the impossible; all that is required of me is to say "Yes, let it be done to me according to your word."
I can't help noticing that the story of Zachariah happens in the Temple. Yesterday I meditated on the fact that Mary was visited by the angel in her own home. This story seems to be going in the opposite direction than that of Mary. Why? Both Mary and Zachariah expressed doubt at what the angel was telling them. But it is Mary that takes the further step and moves forward in faith, putting all her trust in the Word of God.
When I fail to take that step, I too experience a sort of spiritual "mutism." I focus on what I think it's the right thing to do, on what I think it's the right thing to say and I get dry, I realize there is nothing to say and nothing I do or say seem to bring fruit. It's the Zachariah's syndrome. Unlike him, I don't have to wait nine month to shake this off - I can ask God for forgiveness and start again by making Mary's "fiat" ("Yes, let it be done....") as my own.
But I feel Zachariah's words: How can I know this? I want to know what is ahead, I want to plan and be ready. I understand this is not always possible and I am learning, formed by the Gospel, to say Yes. I found this quote of Teillhard de Chardin: "What really matters is to adhere to the divine action that can be found everywhere; the more we submit to Him our destiny, by subtracting our planning and our control, the worthier it is of adoration." (my translation)
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