praying for people

Someone disappointed me. I got sad, then angry, then frustrated. I rolled my eyes. I thought about what I wanted to say to that person.

Then God showed me how to pray for that person. He showed me that my feelings and thoughts were pinpointing areas of need in that person's life and character. Where did those needs come from? What kind of healing was needed? I started to pray that God would bless that person with the traits that were lacking, not because changing that person was my responsibility, but because it was part of God's purposes for that person. God loves that person, and his will for them is that they become "conformed to the image of Christ" (Rom 8:29). My feelings and thoughts were revealing what God is already doing in their life. And I can participate in it by praying for them. It's not that I shouldn't talk to them. But God was telling me that I shouldn't talk to that person about their shortcomings and/or needs until I had talked to God about that person first.

Talking to God about people this way helps me to love them. I'm changed from seeing them as people who hurt me, to people who need God's transforming power in their lives. Just like I do.

a prayer

What voices are telling me what I “ought” or “should” be?
Is it God or someone else?
I ask for the grace to trust
that God knows me best
and to pursue the opportunities he is presenting to me.

an invitation

Then the father said to him, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.” Luke 15:31-32

At the end of this familiar parable the father of the two sons extends an invitation to his older son to "celebrate and rejoice".

A lot of us who have been in the Church a long time are like the older son. We forget that God has "blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing" (Eph 1:3), i.e., that God has already told us, "All that is mine is yours." So we work hard out in the fields, trying to earn "even a goat". And we resent it when other people celebrate and rejoice, feasting on the fatted calf. "What did they do to deserve to be so happy? Why aren't they more like me, hard-working, stressed-out, miserable?"

Meanwhile, God is at work in our world. People are being saved. The angels are rejoicing. There are random acts of kindness, beautiful sunsets, joyful laughter, warm hugs and puppies. (Am I getting too precious? I should have stopped at laughter. But it's all true, really.) There's a party going on. If we would open our spiritual eyes we would see that there's so much to celebrate.

Not that there isn't work to do. But are we doing the right work? We are slaves to our calendars, constantly checking our email and texts to make sure we haven't missed something we were supposed to do. But who is determining what we are "supposed" to do?

And God doesn't call us to do all the work. He calls us alongside to work with him. He is the master, we are privileged to be his apprentices. Even Jesus said that he could only work where he saw his father already at work (John 5:19). Jesus' words remind me of a young son looking for his father, finding him in the workshop, and then being guided by the father to learn how to skillfully use a hammer or chisel or compound miter saw to make something beautiful and useful.

But we insist on doing it all ourselves, bitterly proud of our efforts, stubbornly staying out in the field, wondering why we aren't getting more rewards from God. The reward God really wants to give us is himself. (The rest is already ours.) He wants us to join him in the party, to celebrate the wonderful things he is doing. Will I accept the invitation?

good gifts

"If you being evil know how to good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him." Matthew 7:11

Jesus seems to be capitalizing on people's assumption that they know how to parent. No one will say that they are a bad parent, or if they admit it they will point to some perfectly reasonable explanation, meaning that they really do know how to parent but that there is some other conflicting compulsion.

But do I really know how to give good gifts to my children? First, regarding what is good: too often what I give to my children is far from good. My kids get my leftover time and affection after I've lavished my attentions on my favorite hobby or TV show. They get my worst self, tired and cranky after rough day at the office. Of course, these are the worst-case scenarios that all good parents try to avoid. We don't want our kids complaining about these things to their therapists later in life.

So I make a sincere effort to give them good things. But am I giving a gift... or a loan? A gift has no strings attached. A loan expects some form of repayment. I give my kids my time, helping them with their homework. I expect good grades in return. I try to get them involved in sports. I expect them to become well-rounded. I give them a nice house, a comfortable life. I expect them to be grateful. It's not that kids shouldn't learn to work hard and attain new skills or find things to enjoy and be grateful for. But these are lessons that are learned, not automatic repayment for my efforts. And they aren't always learned easily. The lessons usually require repetition. How do I know if I'm expecting a repayment? Just measure my resentment. The more resentful I am, the less joy I'm finding in repeating life lessons, the higher my expectations of repayment.

God doesn't expect anything in return. He hopes, but he doesn't demand. He is the father of the younger son in Luke 15 who releases a third of the family wealth and then waits by the road each day, longing for the son's return. When the son returns, the father doesn't scold or get angry. He rejoices. This is truly unconditional love, amazing grace.

posture

Mary sat at Jesus' feet.

First, this was a posture of listening. It was the posture of a disciple at the feet of the teacher. It's hard to talk from this position. The person in the chair is the one who can talk easily. If the person on the floor tries to speak, s/he will end up talking into the other person's leg. The mouth isn't in a good position to be active, but the ears are just below the teacher's mouth, well positioned to receive. Sitting at the feet of another is a posture of humble receptivity.

Second, it is impossible to hurry from this position. You can't do anything. It is a pretty nonproductive position. Martha was busy. She was being productive. Jesus told her that Mary had chosen what was better. Having been raised in a society that determines my worth by my productivity, everything in me protests. How could Mary have possibly chosen what was better? But Jesus wasn't saying that non-productivity was better than productivity. He was saying that being with him was better than being productive.

He who is in a hurry delays the work of God. St. Vincent de Paul
Cease striving and know that I am God. Psalm 46:10

prayer retreat

We had a prayer retreat on Saturday. Winnie asked me who would be there. I told her God would. Then she said good-bye, have a good retreat. And I told her I've never had a bad prayer retreat.

I guess that's the difference between our usual notions of a retreat and a prayer retreat. In my church experience a "retreat" always meant a group gathering that required a lot of preparation and organization. There were a lot of moving parts, so there was a real concern about making sure all the parts worked together. And that invited comparison and critique. Some retreats were "better" than others.

But a prayer retreat is about me meeting with God in the company of others. God always shows up, probably because I'm going with the expectation of meeting him there, and he always gets there first. At other retreats the details can keep me from knowing why I'm there in the first place. I go hoping that the speaker will be powerful, the worship will be engaging, etc. If it all works together, then I may notice what God is saying to me. If any of those parts aren't working well, then I'm often disappointed, mostly because I'm distracted. God is actually there, I just wasn't able to pay attention.

"Conference junkies" are people who specialize in critiquing large group meetings. It's their spiritual gift. If they disapprove of something, it could ruin their whole weekend or week, whether or not God was there. Actually he was, they just missed it. He may even have been trying to speak to them through the botched detail that so consumed them.

"Be still and know that I am God."

October 31

Today is… the feast of St. Alphonsus Rodriguez.

Alphonsus was married at 26, but his wife died when he was 31. All 3 of his children also died within a few years and so at the age of 40 he became a Jesuit. His health was poor, so he was assigned to be the porter of the new Jesuit college at Majorca. For 46 years he answered the door, greeted visitors, delivered messages, ran errands and distributed alms to beggars at the door. What set him apart was that he said he imagined that whoever was on the other side of the door was Jesus. He became such a godly person that he developed a counseling ministry to students and citizens who would come to the door to talk with him. Eventually he was invited to preach in the college dining room. No one would leave, even if he spoke overlong, because the students were so drawn to his godly perspective and advice.

Tonight it's Halloween and kids are knocking on my door. Actually they're ringing the doorbell. But tonight is unusual. Most people don't knock on a door. They call my phone or send me an email or text me. Do I imagine that they are Jesus?

What affects my imagination? Am I inclined to be suspicious of people because that's how my parents taught me to interact with the world? Or am I cautious because I've been hurt by too many people? Do I groan inwardly when I see an email or voicemail from a particular person?

And what do I aspire to be? Even at this later stage in my life, I imagine myself doing big things, supposedly for God. But if I'm honest, I want to do these things for my own selfish reasons. I'm humbled by Alphonsus Rodriguez. He accepted his role as a porter and used the simple opportunity for greeting people at the door to spread the love of Jesus.

Ube caritas, Deus ibi est. Live in love, God will live in you.