As this Christmas season begins to wind down, and in a few weeks we move into Lent, it comes to mind how very differently God chooses to behave or respond. The Scottish Jesuit priest, Gerard W. Hughes, wrote a book several years back entitled God of Surprises. Basically, we humans can’t begin to guess what God decides to do, or why. Our job is to be open to gracious surprises, very often totally unexpected.

What does this have to do with Christmas? Who possibly could have predicted the mystery of God’s immersive self-revelation in and through an infant – helpless and totally dependent? And not one born to privilege or in luxury, but to a “nobody” Jewish woman betrothed to a carpenter a bit more than 2,000 years ago in an insignificant country, dominated by the Roman Empire! Surprise!

And season of Lent draws us further and further into the mystery of Jesus, who after a brief ministry of healing and liberating people from maladies and from false notions, dies, powerless, helpless again, as a public criminal, cursed at and scorned, nailed to a cross. The end of a short, beautiful life of caring? Not quite! A relatively few hours later, witnesses report experiencing Jesus alive. Lives continue to be transformed through encounters with him. 

In our world today, enamored with the power of scientific knowledge, rife with skepticism concerning what cannot be tested and proven using science’s strict methodology, there seems to be little space left for a God who works wonders. Perhaps too many believers still hold to the notion that miracles are interventions of God that bypass, suspend or supersede the laws of nature. Not true. Miracles, as all actions of grace, only occur in harmony with nature and its laws. Jesus, the most surprising miracle of all, is conceived and born of a human woman at a moment in history. And, unlike the demigods of mythology, Jesus is fully human. It is God working with, in, and through him that is the Source of his power to spend his life in service of others.

 It is Jesus’ intimate and unimpeded relationship with Abba-God that allows miracles to happen around him.  Where there is faith, deep trust and confidence that this is what Jesus, and Abba-God with, in, and through him, really want, awesome, gracious things unfold. Jesus lived the conviction that Abba-God desires all and only what is truly good and life-giving for all, no exceptions. Jesus preached that God wants universal fullness of life and enduring peace, and proclaimed that his ministry was a launching of a new, unimagined Reign of possibilities that could only come about through trust in God and cooperation with others – even (especially?) those we might consider to be the most unlikely partners. Why not? God is at work.

On the eve of the Feast of All Saints (All Hallows’ Eve = Halloween), it seems good to consider who are recognized as saints and why. Also to go deeper into what holiness is – a quality often associated with saintly people.

The formal process the Catholic Church uses to decide who is a saint has evolved over time. Originally saints were simply proclaimed by popular acclamation. People recognized that this or that person had lived a very good, faithful life. Now the process is much more complex, and fraught with potential problems. There’s a whole office at the Vatican dedicated to identifying who is a saint. But it takes years, with investigations that may or may not be biased, and those proposing people as saintly spend very much money to see the process through. 

Deceased founders of religious orders and movements have the backing of their members, both through prayer and finances. Others seem to go to the head of the line because someone very high in the church has a strong preference that they become saints to serve as models for what that official considers to be holy today. The point is, it’s not always personal holiness that determines who enters the ranks of  acknowledged sainthood, and human motivation can, and does, factor in.

Léon Bloy, a French novelist, has this quote in one of his works: “The only real sadness, the only true failure, the only great tragedy in life is not to become a saint.” This certainly sounds as if Bloy imagined that sanctity and sainthood were within reach, not some impossible ideal meant only for a few, elite spiritual champions. Life lived in relationship with God, and focused outward toward those around us, offers the possibility of becoming saintly. All who live their lives with a bigger purpose and awareness of the needs of others have the necessary elements for sainthood.

Way back in 1949, a German priest and pastoral theologian, Josef Goldbrunner, wrote a little book entitled, Holiness is Wholeness. These two words share the same linguistic roots. Holiness, then, is not about doing all kinds of “holy activities” – practices that can be counted, calculated, or quantified by numbers or by time.  Holiness is realized by us becoming wholly who God desires us to be. This happens in a very natural way through being loved and by loving.

What is wholeness? It can be described as living wholeheartedly, growing into who we have been fashioned to be by the circumstances of our lives. A whole, therefore holy, person is interiorly free, responsible (able to respond rather than to react), aware of reality, and loving. Of course, God is behind all this, inspiring and inviting us to become more and more fully who God sees us, knows us, to be. 

The model for Christians is Jesus. He lived and grew, as we do. Jesus made choices that little by little led him to becoming so open to God that God was able to do great good through him. His entire life was a revelation of God with us, and among us. Jesus lived wholly. He didn’t allow himself to get sidetracked on other paths, or with less essential interpretations of the Law. Jesus kept his focus on God and kept discerning God’s desire for him on each step of his earthly journey. 

Sure, we don’t always get it right. But we can, and need to, become saints – people led by the Spirit of God to grow day by day in love, through love. Holiness is never about striving to achieve perfection. Perfection is a both impossible for us, and a temptation – an unachievable ideal that distracts us from loving God, others, and ourselves.

God only wants us to be who we are, as best we can right now. With all the voices (inner and outer) judging and persuading us, it takes heroic effort to simply be attentive to growing moment by moment in love. And love is the hallmark of holiness, and of all saints, well-known or hidden.

Thanks to those who proposed topics for reflection.  This is a response to one of the requests.

When the early followers of Jesus tried to make sense of the amazing and redefining experience that they had had, with and of Jesus, the only religious categories available to try to “fit” Jesus into were from their Jewish roots and traditions. But the uniqueness of the mystery of Jesus went far beyond their old beliefs and practices. He was new wine to their old wineskins.

These first disciples wanted to understand and to explain what they knew in their hearts, memories and shared stories. So, when the “Jesus communities” strove to comprehend the incomprehensible they fell back on images and titles from their shared history such as “Prophet”, “Messiah” (The Anointed One), “Son of Man”, “The One Who is to Come”, and “Son of God.” Here we’ll look at two of these that were attached to Jesus: Son of Man, and Son of God. 

In the Israelite culture, as in many contemporary ones, it would be impolite for someone to speak directly of themselves, using the pronoun “I” for example. So, frequently, when the gospels have Jesus referring to himself, he uses the phrase, “Son of Man.” “The Son of Man has”… instead of “I have.” Another common usage of the phrase, “Son of Man” is a replacement for a human being or human beings. “The Son of Man is”… instead of humanity is.

Where this can get a bit confusing is after the Christian community’s generational reflection on Jesus, who he was, and what he meant. They turned to a mysterious figure in the Book of Daniel. Daniel was a very late prophet in the history of people of Israel. His work is very influenced by the Greek world into which the ancestors of Abraham and Sarah were scattered.

Daniel, in Chapter Seven, depicts some of the prophet’s visions, including about “one like a son of man (human being)” coming into God’s presence and receiving an everlasting dominion. The Jewish followers of Jesus, concluded that Jesus had to be this promised heavenly ruler. He was a Son of David after all! They linked Jesus to this apocalyptic figure.

To the scholars, it’s also quite clear that Jesus didn’t, and wouldn’t, identify himself as the Son of God. It would have been blasphemous in his culture to claim a special or definitive sonship from God. This identification is most strongly made and held by the community responsible for the Gospel of John, two generations after Jesus’ time on earth. They had had much more time to explore the theological implications of the Jesus event.

The whole people of Israel understood themselves as the son of God. God birthed them as a people. God was their father. They also attributed this title to angels or other heavenly beings. Jesus certainly would have seen himself as part of the people of Israel – a son of God in that sense. 

In the Greco-Roman world, which is the historical context for Jesus and the early Christians, the title “son of god” was customarily applied to rulers, heroes, or other extraordinary individuals. The emperors, over time, considered themselves divine, “sons of the gods.” When the centurion (Mark 15:39) who commanded the troops responsible for executing Jesus saw how Jesus bore his suffering, without hatred, without any emotional breakdown – like a true hero, the officer declared, “Surely this was a son of god.” Of course, later on as awareness of the fullness of who Jesus is increased, the first followers re-translated this wondering cry of the pagan soldier as, “Surely this was the Son of God!”

Faith is a living reality. It either grows or it dies. The gospels are concrete witnesses to the growth of the faith of the primitive Church. Scripture scholars have identified various layers in the gospel texts that we have, and are able to link each layer to a stage in the development of these essential Christian documents. Each new layer reflects deeper faith and clearer understanding of the phenomenon of Jesus – Son of Man, Son of God. 

It has to be this way, because I want it to be this way! This is my life and I’ve decided what’s right, what’s possible, what’s good for me! I’ve even asked God, (or told God), to agree with me 100%. I’ve become so accustomed to, and comfortable with, the parameters of my life that any other way of living cannot be what God wants for me. I would need to change. And that’s very upsetting for me. Besides, I have consulted all kinds of authorities, who just happen to agree with me and with what I think and want.

Does this sound extreme? Maybe. Maybe not. When my plans are disrupted, when how I expected my day, or my life to go, when what I really wanted (and decided was necessary), doesn’t happen, how do I react? Do I feel this change, unexpected occurrence, malfunction as a personal attack or affront? There’s nothing personal about a car that won’t start, a salesperson who’s having a bad day, an accident, technology that begins to do strange and unreliable things. Life happens, and not according to my agenda or my willing it to be one way or another.

If I’ve been deeply wounded in my ability to trust anyone, if I’ve felt it necessary for my well-being, or even survival, that I can only rely on myself, it can seem almost impossible to hand my life over to anyone else. Not even to God! Sure, I can give God a place in my life, but I may not be able to let go of this illusion that I can and must control my time, activities, and access to my heart. God, in effect, comes only after me and my vigilance, which I have unconsciously convinced myself alone keeps me safe.

If God is God, and not some more or less important component in my life, peace and happiness only come when I give up all claims to being a part-time god, imagining that I run the show, or any part of it. So many holy people have learned and taught that surrender to God, putting God as number one in my life, is the only way to wholeness. Is this easy? No! If I have experienced trauma, even multiple “little traumas,” my life might have become a path of fearful avoidance. Caution is good and necessary to help remain safe and well, but it also can become a substitute for being fully alive.

And it’s not just wounding that can displace God in my life. If those I have relied on to teach and to guide me have presented me with a set way of seeing, believing, and behaving, this indoctrination can also take over for God as my sole authority and can replace the will of God, which is revealed anew in each and every moment. Wasn’t this what Jesus confronted the religious teachers and authorities of his day about? They had put the Law, which is a very beautiful gift from God, above God. The love, mercy and compassion of God cannot be limited, or enclosed, or carved in stone. If I am so caught up in, or because of, what has been, I will certainly miss what is God inviting me to, here and now. Hopefully I can choose life on God’s terms.

Deste do primeiro livro de nossas Sagradas Escrituras, é muito claro que Deus tem um relacionamento especial com toda e cada pessoa humana. A descrição da criação do Adão e da Eva (Gênesis 1:27 & 2:7 & 2:22) indica que Deus nós modelou do barro, (da terra, da lama, do solo) e inspirou-nos do seu próprio sopro (Espírito). No segundo versão desta historia, Deus fez Eva duma costela do Adão, a lateral dele. Esta significa que todos nos, homens e mulheres, estamos igual no valor e dignidade. Deste o inicio, Deus contemplou sua criação, e nos viu como muito bom. Deus só faz o que é muito bom – sem exceção! 

Na tradição do nossos antepassados hebraicos, nos temos esta sabedoria, referindo a Deus: “Você ama tudo que existe, e não odeia nada do que faz” (Sabedoria 11:24). Não como nossa tendência humana, Deus não da valor e, mais tarde, tira, despreza ou destrói. Deus nos ama (de novo todos nós). Nós estamos preciosos para Deus. 

O ministro inteiro de Jesus estava dedicado a proclamar, e fazer concreto e tangível, Abba-Deus’s amor tudo-inclusivo. Jesus entrou em, e tocou a vida entre aqueles que a cultura dele marginalizou e rejeitou, e convidou eles mesmos para se vêem como bem-amados de Deus. Enquanto a sociedade só os viu como rótulos, Jesus viu, e compartilhou, a Boa Nova com gente, pessoas que tiveram nomes, famílias, historias, sonos e desejos.

Nós lembramos quando os discípulos, numa tentativa de proteger Jesus para o trabalho “mais importante” de proclamar a Boa Nova, impedirem algumas crianças da presença de Jesus (Marcos 10:13-16). Naquele tempo, crianças estiveram consideradas quasi nadas. Certo que elas tiveram a afeição das suas próprias famílias, mas a sociedade geralmente as viu como a menor importância. Jesus repreendeu seus discípulos e acolheu as crianças. Ele disse que, “O reino de Deus é para aqueles, e para todos como aqueles.” Todos nós precisamos a presença e a benção de Jesus! Todos nós, no fundo dos nossos corações, queremos estar bem perto ao Jesus.

São Paulo continua o tema na carta aos Romanos (Romanos 8:38-39). “Estou convencido que nem a morte nem a vida, nem o presente nem o futuro, nem das alturas nem das profundezas, nenhuma criatura do céu ou da terra ou duma outra região, nos poderem afastar do amor de Deus em Cristo Jesus.” Jesus deu tudo para todos nós. Nós podemos sentir ou imaginar que Deus não esta contente conosco, mas Deus não tem nossas julgamentos internos. Apesar de nossas escolhas e ações que sugiram de habito, medo ou de egoísmo, Deus ainda nos ama.

O problema é em nossos corações fechados ou só parcialmente abertos. É nós que tentamos excluir pessoas que nós julgamos como indignas da vida, da educação e oportunidades, do amor.  O amor de Deus é total, absoluto, inclusivo, e universal. Como um pai, como uma mãe, Deus ama todos suas crianças. Deus deseja plenitude da vida, com todas as suas dimensões, para todos. O coração de Deus só tem capacidade para todo mundo. O convite dele é que nós expandimos nossos corações para acolher, com amor, cada pessoa que nos encontramos ao longo do nosso caminho. Não é fácil, mas, com Deus, tudo é possível.

Por favor desculpe meus erros.

In response to another request, here is a reflection on the Christian faith statement known as the Apostles Creed. The Apostles Creed is an ancient expression from the early Church that came about in response to various false teachings (heresies) about who Jesus was, and what he, and his life, meant. Although it is old, this creed was not formulated by the Twelve Apostles who were among the first followers called by Jesus. In fact, the version we now have today was first developed in Gaul (France) in the Fifth Century.

As people in the spiritually and religiously bankrupt Roman Empire came into contact with the teachings of and about this Jesus, known as the Christ, many wanted to join the believers. In order to sort out and prepare those who were serious about becoming Christian, the Church developed a process whereby one could understand this new faith and its implications. It was (and is) called the catechumenate.  After extensive instruction and scrutiny by the community and before receiving Baptism, the catechumens were asked a series of questions about the core tenets of the faith.

These questions were based on teachings of the early Church Fathers. They explored God as Father and Creator, Jesus as God-Man, Son and Savior, and the Holy Spirit as Sanctifier. Then they moved on into the nature of Church and of the Communion of Saints, the forgiveness of sins, bodily resurrection, and life in all its fullness with God. The response to these questions formed the first Christian creeds.

There is one line in the Apostles Creed that is difficult for us who live centuries after its origins. “He (Jesus) descended into hell.” What could this possibly mean? First of all, this line was not in the Roman Creed that preceded the Apostles Creed. Secondly, this is a bad translation. The more accurate form is “He descended to the place of the dead.” 

To say that Jesus descended to the dead can mean three things: he emptied himself completely unto death; he was buried in a grave; and / or he went to the abode of those who had died prior to him. Jesus did not go to hell. Hell, as later taught, didn’t exist in Jewish or Greek religious thought of the First Century.  Sheol (Hebrew) or Hades (Greek) were the names given to where people thought they went after they died. This place was like a dark, timeless waiting area.

The Eastern Orthodox Church has a rich tradition of teaching deep theological and spiritual truths through the use of icons. An icon is a symbolic contemplation on realities of faith that results a profound image in which every detail matters, every aspect speaks. In Orthodox teaching, Jesus’ “three days” after death included a journey to the realm of the dead, where the souls of those who had gone before were. This movement by Jesus is captured in countless icons.

Since the dead were supposed to have gone down somewhere. This journey by Jesus was imagined as a descent. The third descent of Jesus: first from his place with Abba-God into our humanity, second from life to death, and finally to the place of the dead. He went to those who had died to announce to them the Good News (gospel) of God’s stronger-than-death love, to free them from the confines of their old ways of understanding, and to shatter forever death as a “dead-end.” Whatever Jesus accomplished by his faithful living, now through his death is available to all people of all times and places – including us. No matter what realm we find ourselves in!

This continues a series of reflections on topics suggested by readers. With the rise of the modern emphasis on the individual, community has become misunderstood and devalued. What is community? Why is community? How does community happen?

Community blends valuing the individual with our human need for belonging. It’s not either one or the other; it’s both. We all need people with whom we are able to feel “at home.” Unfortunately this doesn’t always occur within our families. In community we come together, not because we are required to, but because we want to. And we want to, due to the fact that here we feel like we are needed, that we are important, that we can help other people to feel good and happy about themselves. In community we, all of us, and our lives, make a positive difference. It’s simply good to be together.

Just by showing up, being together, and sharing who we are – which is at the heart of any community – life is better. We may do things together, but this is secondary to getting to know, and to care about, one another. We learn to do things with, not for one another. What we choose to do flows from who we are and what we discover we are called to do. Each and every member helps us in some way to decide how we will develop together. If our community meetings become stale or boring, there can be a number of causes.

The first place to look is our context. What is going on in our lives right now? Are things peaceful and stable, or is our life tense and uncertain? It is very difficult to be inspired or creative if our world is turned upside down. Another area to examine is our attitude toward one another and toward our community. Are we open to continually discover each other, or have we stopped at a place where we feel comfortable? We are all constantly changing. We are all brand new each moment. Do we treasure each other enough to seek more deeply what we do not yet know? Or, it could just be that we’ve found it easier to plan community events without getting input from all the members.

Community is about personal relationships. We grow in our knowledge of each other’s preferences and needs through spending time and interacting with one another. Personal relationships thrive on honesty and truthfulness in sharing – always in the context of love. We can say we love someone, but if we cannot be truthful with them, this is not love, but a superficial emotion – sentimentality. If we feel we must be truthful with someone, but we express this truth in an uncaring or unloving way, this is using truth as a weapon. In both cases hurt and harm come to people.

The secret is to learn, through practice, how to say what needs to be said in a way that is both honest and caring. When we love someone we can do this, even when it is not very easy to do. When mutual love is the basis for our interrelating our community becomes stronger, and a strong community can weather harsh storms. As with so much in life, it begins with love.

We who are enlightened Christians give a high place to love among the possible responses to almost any person or situation. We believe that Jesus came among us, called us to follow him, and gave all his life-energy out of love. He taught us that the very essence of God is love. Jesus commands us to “Love one another, as I have loved you.” Yet there seem to be countless times when love appears to fall short of what is truly needed. We sense that our love doesn’t change things, or make them better. This can feel paralyzing.

Love, in classic thought, is defined as desiring what is truly good for someone, and doing what one can to bring that good about. A wise person used to say, “If someone has a toothache, it does little good to say, ‘I hope you feel better soon,’ or ‘I’ll pray your tooth is healed.’ You can love that person a lot, but if you don’t do what you can to make sure they get to a good dentist, have you really helped them?” The question is, “What, concretely, do they need to be well, or free, or more fully alive?”

The parable in the Gospel of Luke known as the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37) pictures a victim of assault and robbery on the busy highway between Jerusalem and Jericho – a “high-crime” area. Two professional clergy-types, good people, see the bleeding victim, and choose to pass on by without so much as a, “God bless you,” or “I’ll pray for you.” They have God’s business to attend to, and besides, coming in contact with blood would make them ritually unclean, not to mention that it might stain their holy robes.

Along comes a businessman, who happens to be a Samaritan (hated enemy of those who claimed to be true and faithful Israelites), who sees the wounded person, is filled with compassion, stops and cares for him. The Samaritan cleans and bandages the man’s wounds, puts him on his donkey, takes him to a nearby inn, spends the day treating him, and gives the innkeeper money to see to the stranger’s needs.

This is love. It doesn’t matter that the victim is unknown to the Samaritan. The Samaritan sees, acts, and stays with the other. He does what is needed, going above and beyond simple first-aid. Even though he had business elsewhere! 

There are innumerable situations and persons in need in our world today. No one can do all that is required to help or improve them. But this is not an excuse to do nothing. We can care, and pray, and do what little we can in our tiny corner of the planet. If we cry out to God to make things better, we need to be prepared for God to call us to do something (but not everything) ourselves. Love starts with seeing, and flows into action.

This is the second in a series of reflections based on requests from readers. Today it’s a question about living one’s faith. It seems to me that it could be helpful to begin by looking at how faith is described in the Bible. Hint: It’s not about believing in religious authorities, nor about believing (or even understanding) any teachings. Faith is always about God.

Abram and Sarai left their home, family, people, country, and gods out of some sense of invitation or call. This call, though they sensed it in their hearts, came to them from something or SomeOne outside of them. They didn’t invent it out of a desire for adventure, or for a change of scenery. There was an urgency to respond, to act, to follow this invitation – that their lives would be incomplete, or unfulfilled if they chose to not act on it. 

Why? The Bible indicates that Abram and Sarai left the security of what they had known up to that point in their life to go into the unknown because they trusted Whoever or whatever was drawing them in that direction. Trust is the first component of faith. Abram and Sarai were faithful.

We place our trust in what we sense, feel, or have experience of as being reliable. This could be a person or persons, our own intuition, or even a reality that is unknown, yet solid and compelling. Trust is not certainty. It always involves some risk. But whatever risk  is there seems worth it. Faith is primarily unconditional trust in the absolute reliability of God.

Of course, this trust does not and cannot guarantee that things will happen, or turn out, the way we would like them to. Trust implies that, whatever happens, there is opportunity that some good will come out of our response. Faith asks for our wholehearted “yes” to God. What we do, and how we do it, flows from this deep trust, especially in the face of the unknowable.

A second component of faith as depicted in the Bible is a growing and intimate relationship with God. Let’s look at Moses. Moses, according to the biblical narrative, had fled Egypt after killing an Egyptian. He married and tended the flocks of his father-in-law. One day he noticed a bush in the wilderness that seemed to be on fire, yet it wasn’t burning. Moses went to see what it was and God, a god Moses didn’t know, encountered him there, and called him to set his people free from their slavery.

Moses was reluctant and tried to talk God out of this mission. God insisted. When God insists, it’s better to go along with what God asks. Moses did lead the Hebrews out of Egypt and through the wilderness. Obviously he had the skills necessary to do this. God knew this. Over the years Moses had repeated encounters with God and their relationship deepened and grew. Through these personal meetings, Moses’s faith became stronger.

We can have, grow, and develop our relationship with God through spending time together regularly, listening and talking, in prayer. Through these personal conversations with God we can come to know what God’s desires are for us and for all creation. Out of this intimacy we can live and act more and more as God desires.

A third component is highlighted in the Gospel of John – believing is seeing. In English we have the saying seeing is believing. It’s as if we need to experience something with our senses before we can consider trusting. John’s Gospel turns this around. When we believe we see. But what do we see? Through growing trust in, and evolving intimacy with God, we can begin to see reality from God’s perspective – which is very different from ours. We can see God present with, in, and through our very humanity.

God’s perspective of all-inclusive love and compassion moves us to act only out of love and compassion. When we trust, come to know God through prayer, and see through God’s eyes more fully, our actions help to establish God’s Reign here on earth. Believe it!

We’re already more than a third of the way through the season of Lent. Today is the first day of Spring in the Northern Hemisphere. By the way, the word Lent, in English, comes from the Old English word for Spring – that time of year marked by the emerging of new life all around. This is a time of birth and rebirth, a season of growth, renewal, and with renewal a renewed energy of hope. Life goes on, despite all the best efforts of winter, and ours, to suppress it.

In the Christian tradition, there is evidence that the institution of a prolonged time of fasting and other practices to prepare believers for the great Feast of Easter began during the time of the apostles. In 325 AD, the Council of Nicaea established the 40 day period of fasting and penance, based on the great fasts described in the Bible of Elijah, Moses and Jesus, as the standard way for persons who were seeking to enter the Body of Christ through Baptism.

To become members of the Church these petitioners needed to prepare themselves, and the whole Church accompanied them in the penitential actions. Nowadays Lent is practiced, in some form, by all the mainline Christian churches. In the East it is referred to as the time of “bright sadness” – the necessary period of repentance in anticipation of the joyful celebration of Jesus’ Resurrection.

For those of us who follow the path through Lent year after year with the same practices and liturgical readings it can become routine. It can lose its savor for us. Lent is not about “beating ourselves up” because we’re sinners. It’s just a fact that we sin, that we act unlovingly, untruthfully, self-centeredly. Lent is an opportunity for us to fine-tune our life to be more in line with the Gospel. But this takes intentional action.

We need to discover and to choose practices that help us to counter those aspects of our life that are hindering us from being more fully the person God desires us to be. The Church maintains that prayer, fasting and acts of charity are surefire means to confront and to overcome our spiritual bad habits. But these can become just another part of background noise of our lives if we don’t take time to regularly remember why we’re doing them.

At Easter we are invited to recall, relive and to celebrate our own Baptism. We have been immersed, plunged into the mystery of Life beyond death. We have already sacramentally tasted and shared in the Resurrection of Jesus. It is God’s enduring love, embodied in Jesus, that impels us to desire and to act toward becoming our true selves. So, we engage ourselves each day of Lent in those practices that we have found actually help us to grow in this way.