Tag: catholic

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The Beatitudes | A Radical Sermon

I’ve been reflecting on the Beatitudes, or the Sermon on the Mount. I hadn’t really researched or understood it as deeply as I have in the last six months or so. The sermon was more than personal virtues or touchy-feeling. When we not only read them, but deeply sit with them, we begin to see how radical the ideas and statements about God’s justice are and what they mean for us. Let’s start with the backdrop.

It’s important to remember who is in the crowd that day. It wasn’t the elite, the mighty, the rich or powerful. The people sitting on the grass and listening to the words of this teacher from Galilee were laborers, widows, the sick, the peasants – in essence, Jesus was speaking to the people on the margins. The audience Jesus speaks to should tell us something essential about the heart and intentions of God.

Jesus looks at them – those on the outskirts of societal power – and says, “Blessed are you.” Not “you will be blessed someday if you continue to keep on keeping on,” rather, “you are blessed now—not only because God is near to you. But God sees you and knows you.”

Jesus goes on to share spiritual truths about the heart and intentions of God for them. These truths are applicable for us yet today and may even make us uncomfortable.

Blessed are the Poor in Spirit

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” (Matt 5: 3)

This is not a romanticizing of poverty. Rather, Jesus is naming a spiritual truth: those who know they cannot rely on wealth, status, or power are often the ones most open to God. Their faith has deep roots because they need God deeply.

To be “poor in spirit” is to know how fragile life is. It is to know that the systems we trust do not always protect us. It is to live without the illusion of self-sufficiency.

And Jesus says: the kingdom of heaven belongs to them. Jesus shares with us how this truth is experienced in Luke 16: 19-31 with the rich man and Lazarus, the poor man who lied at his door and was covered with sores. The rich man went to the netherworld and the angels carried the poor man to the “bosom of Abraham.”

That should unsettle us—because it means God’s kingdom is not built on power, dominance, wealth or accumulation, but on dependence, humility, and trust.

Blessed Are Those Who Mourn

“Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.” (Matt. 5:4)

I had often thought about this verse in the context of personal grief, such as the loss of my parents. But, I’ve come to understand it also encompasses mourning the brokenness of the world.

To mourn is to refuse indifference. It is to feel the heavy weight of injustice.

It is to let our hearts break for what breaks God’s heart.

Those who mourn are often the ones who have seen loss up close: families displaced, lives cut short, dignity denied. (As of late, I feel we’ve seen this all too much).

And Jesus does not tell them buck up, to ignore their grief. Instead, he calls on us to feel it and know we will be comforted. We have the deep, blessed assurance that God does not abandon those who grieve. Our sorrow is not invisible.

Blessed Are the Meek

“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” (Matt 5:5)

In scripture, meekness is not weakness, it is strength restrained. In ancient contexts, the root of this word carries the imagery of a tamed wild stallion. It evokes an image of immense power, passion, and strength kept under complete restraint, typically for the benefit of others.

The meek are those who choose relationship over revenge. Those who resist the temptation of power and domination. Those who refuse to mirror the violence done to them.

God’s vision of justice runs completely counter to how things usually work. Not the powerful. Not the ruthless. Rather those who are gentle in a cruel world will inherit the earth.

Hunger And Thirst for Righteousness

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” (Matt 5:6)

In Matthew 5:6, the word “righteousness” translates the Hebrew concept of Tzedek (righteousness/justice) or Tzedakah (charity/right living). This concept has a deep, community-focused meaning:

Tzedek (צדק): Refers to fairness, justice, and moral virtue. It is about acting in accordance with God’s will and treating others with strict fairness.

Tzedakah (צדקה): Often translated as “charity,” literally means “justice” or “righteousness.” In the Jewish tradition, it involves actively meeting the needs of the poor and vulnerable to restore fairness and balance to the community.

To hunger and thirst for righteousness is to long for a world where everyone has enough. Where dignity is protected. Where systems reflect God’s love rather than human greed.

When we truly hunger for righteousness, we cannot ignore the cries of the marginalized.
We cannot accept injustice as inevitable. We cannot separate faith from how we treat the most vulnerable. We aren’t passive. Hunger and thirst drive action.

And, Jesus promises that this hunger will not be wasted. God will fill it.

Time to Reflect

In my next post, I’ll write about the remaining Beatitudes. In the meantime, pause and take a moment on what you’ve read so far

What do you feel stirring as you reflect on the Beatitudes from a lens of the justice Jesus was sharing? Was any of the writing new to you?

Think of other points in scripture where you read and experience Jesus modeling the Beatitudes. How does it help you better understand the character of God, and more importantly, how you can reflect the character of God to others today?

What is one small step you can take to live more into the Beatitudes written about here?

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Called to community

Habemus Papam – We have a new pope. Pope Leo XIV. The first American pope. The first Peruvian pope. The first pope with dual citizenship. The first Augustinian pope. Known for building bridges, for being traditional in practice and compassionate in deed, and for being of even temperament, the new pope opened the windows in a dark world and offered hope.

Scrolling through social media, I see people stating, “I’m a lapsed Catholic, and now, with Pope Leo, I’m thinking about going back.” or “I’m a [insert Christian faith tradition here] but with Pope Leo, I want to explore the Catholic Church. This igniting of spirit and search for faith is a sign of the hunger in the world for the teaching – and living – that Jesus Christ showed us. A deep longing for something more than the secular world is offering in the moment.

As a spiritual director, this is exciting. I want to welcome all these people into my sacred spiritual direction space and say, “Let’s explore together where God is calling you to be in community to live, serve, pray and worship. Whether you are Catholic or not, God is longing to be in relationship with you too. “

That stirring people are feeling shouldn’t be taken lightly. It isn’t a time to jump ship from a current faith community or leap into to the unknown or the comfortable. It is a time to be thoughtful and discerning. Why? That stirring is God calling.

God calls us into community and relationship with each other in service to one another. Your gifts balance mine and together we can create something beautiful. Pope Leo’s election has inspired people to come back or enter into a community, and that could be a faith community like the Lutheran, Catholic, Jewish or other faith tradition OR it could be a community of those active in social justice such as working as a volunteer in a community for the unsheltered or at a free store or a ministry such as knitting prayer shawls or leading a spiritual book study or using leadership skills such as serving on a board or stepping into a new role in your work. This doesn’t mean sometimes God just wants you to sit and be still on Sunday, and God also gave you gifts to use. “Don’t keep your light under a bushel.”

There are many ways to be in a community and live out your faith which can extend beyond going to “Sunday services.” Understanding what that means for you and your gifts in service to others takes trial and error. Sometimes the place is to serve is only for a season and sometimes it is longer, but it is never without reason. Oh, but when you hit that sweet spot and you know in your heart you’ve found your community, that place where you are living your fullest potential in the light of God, it is motivating and joyful.

Pope Leo created a stirring in many people and understanding that movement within you and what it means can take time. And I am so excited to see people experience the touch of the holy spirit. I pray people pause to deeply listen and follow where it leads.

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Liturgy and Ministry | The need for both

I had never felt more alone or lonely than my junior year of college. I was studying in Germany at a time which predates email, social media and even cell phones. I was literally disconnected from my friends, family and all that provided me comfort.

It was also during this time the first Gulf War occurred. There were protests in my German university town, I was spat upon going to class and painted on the garbage dumpster in the courtyard of my dormitory was, “Amis go home” (Amis being short for Americans). It was unsettling some days and frightening on others. On top of the usual culture shock from living overseas, I felt shaken by the anger I felt around me.

During this time, I still went to Mass on Sundays, but as I felt more and more unsettled, I went to Mass more frequently until I was going almost daily. The liturgy put me back on solid footing. The structure, the prayers, the format were all known to me. And although it took me a while to be able to fully participate in German, I could always walk up to the alter during communion, hold out my hands and say Amen. It made me feel as if I was part of something larger than myself.  

The most basic definition of liturgy is the order of corporate worship services. It is a time to join as a community in praise to God. We learn about Christ’s teaching and how to engage with our faith to deepen our relationship with God and each other.  

As I sat in Mass this past Sunday, I realized I didn’t need liturgy. I needed ministry. In the Greek language used in the New Testament, ministry always centers on acts of service to others. It is listening to the needs of others and being the hands and feet of God to attend to those needs. Christ calls us to watch over, lift up, and strengthen those around us.

While liturgy is ritualistic in nature, Pope Francis, in an apostolic letter, Desiderio Desideravi, stated that “a celebration that does not evangelize is not authentic.”  And he has cautioned against “putting the rite before what it expresses”. My interpretation, Pope Francis is telling us to not just go through the motions or follow the rules because the institutional church says so.  We need to approach liturgy with a sense of wonder and awe. We need to make it come alive and most importantly, meet the needs of the people gathered. In other words, minister through the liturgy.

Liturgy provides the comfort of the known and is grounding. Ministry helps us navigate what is unknown and provides companionship as we walk forward into uncharted waters. We need both.

I find my scale is tipping toward needing more ministry. Not only do I need more ministry for myself, but I also need to discern how God wants me to minister to others. My fledging spiritual direction practice is one path, and I wonder in these times when hatred is becoming accepted and even normalized, how can I do the opposite and show more tenderness, love, compassion, and mercy?

I may not be able to practice ministry on a grand scale, and yet, I am not powerless. I can do so on a daily basis – with the staff, my friends, my family and to every person I encounter. Kindness, mercy, grace can have ripple effects. I need to deepen my faith and trust my simple acts of ministry will spread into the larger waters and be passed along to others.

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Roll Away the Stone

Today is what my choir friends and I call Roll Away the Stone Sunday, named after the song by Tom Conry. The gospel is John 11: 1-45 in which Jesus travels to Martha and Mary’s because Lazarus has died.

The first time we sang this song, we repeated the refrain many times. We were captured in the moment and it felt right, spirit led to sing those words over and over, “Roll away the stone and see the glory of God. Roll away the stone.” It was as if our voices were willing the stone to move. It wasn’t forceful, it was faith-full. As we repeated the refrain again and again, out of seemingly nowhere, we hear our soloist cry out, “Lazarus, come out!” It was one of those powerful moments when chills run down your back and the hairs on your arms stand up. Even as I write this, I remember the sensation of that moment.

We haven’t been able to recreate that specific moment, but we relive it every time we hear that scripture reading and sing this piece. “Roll away the stone and see the glory of God. Roll away the stone.”

As we are staying home to protect others and ourselves during this COVID-19 pandemic, I was reflecting on this song. “Roll away the stone.” It isn’t a huge leap to start to wonder, what stones has God rolled away in my life and allowed me to see the glory of God?

To cover them all – the stones, the pebbles or rocks – is a long winding road. Many have heard the stories, some are part of those tales. Needless to say (but I’ll say it anyway) there is not a stone in my life that God hasn’t removed, allowing me to not only see but to deeply experience God’s glory in miraculous as well as tiny, every day ways.

Each year, I pick a theme rather than make resolutions. I have been doing this long before it was cool and trendy. My theme for 2020 is Glorious Unfolding, from the song by Steven Curtis Chapman (yes, music is a theme in my life). The song speaks to allowing God to unfold wonders in my life, just to trust in the journey. It calls me to stop doing what I am well known for doing – planning and being freakishly efficient and organized. Lately, I have found myself drifting back into that pattern, especially amid the stay at home order. I make my lists, I cross off items and continue to feel that sense of accomplishment.

Yet, despite the fear and unknown of this virus, I feel called to slow down. And, that is a blessing. I’ve been moving very fast for about the last five years. But now that I have settled into my home office and adjusted to the temporary moment of physical distancing, I am called to be still, to take in and to see the Glory of God.

I will miss singing this powerful song this weekend with my friends, my spiritual family. Yet, not singing has forced me to pause, to relive in my heart a powerful moment and remember the stones God has rolled away – not just for me, but for those around me. Now I ask God to reveal to me what I have yet to learn as I take this time to pause. “Roll away the stone and see the glory of God. Roll away the stone.”