Do not neglect hospitality, for through it some have unknowingly entertained angels. – Hebrews 13:2

Can you imagine unknowingly entertaining an angel? 

My basic knowledge of angels tells me they are hard to miss in our everyday world. In the Old and New Testaments of the Bible, angels are special servants of God Almighty, ministering to humans, bringing messages, sometimes alone or in groups. The following are only a few stories of Biblical angelic appearances.

An angel of the Lord came to the prophet Elijah as he slept under a bush after praying to die. The angel commanded Elijah to eat, not once, but twice, the food the angel had brought to him, to strengthen Elijah for the journey that lay ahead. (1 Kings 19:3-6). An angel sent from the Lord broke the apostle Peter’s prison chains and had Peter follow him out of prison; Peter’s escape was undetected by the prison guards until they found him missing the next morning. (Acts 12:4-10). An angel came to Mary and told her she would bear God’s son, and that she was blessed among women. (Luke 1:28-31). An angel appeared to the shepherds in their fields to announce the birth of Jesus, and after the angel made that announcement,  a heavenly host of angels appeared with him, singing of God’s glory and the peace that had been born into the world. (Luke 2: 8-14)

 

But there are also instances in the Bible where angels are doing the work of God where humans don’t see. And there are unexplainable events that occur in even these current days, that make us wonder, what was that? Could that have been God?

In August 1995, my husband received sad news that his high school friend had suddenly died one day. They had lost touch after college, but Jerry had always spoken of his friend with such love and admiration that I thought that one day in the future they would be back in touch with one another. Jerry also so loved his friend’s family. That was a beautiful side of Jerry’s character that I admit kind of took my breath away – his loyalty to friends and their families. I never heard a word of judgement for just about anyone, and especially for friends, new and old, and their families.

In any case, Jerry received a phone call from another friend with the sad news of his friend’s passing, but he received it too late to attend any funeral services. He also could not find out any information regarding the sad event, how or why it had happened. His friend was a young man with a young family, and his death was sudden. After a week or two went by, I could see that Jerry was grieving and needed to express his condolences to the family of his friend. Since no one was answering their phone, I suggested Jerry send cards or letters to his friend’s wife and his mom and sister and brother, conveying his sympathy. He did this, but did not receive any reply back, which he quite understood, but it did not help with his own grieving. His friend was like a brother to him.

One thing Jerry was able to find out was where his friend had been buried, and he would visit the place regularly, about twice a month. I myself went with him on more than a few occasions. He would always leave a little ceramic angel on his friend’s stone, and when he would return on his next visit, the angel would be sitting several stones down, on someone else’s stone. Jerry would always find the angel and return it to his friend’s stone.

Months went by. Jerry was still faithfully visiting his friend’s grave. In early August, he told me it was the anniversary of his friend’s passing, and that he would leave his work a little early and go to the cemetery for a visit on the special day. He returned home for dinner, and I could tell that something had happened, that his visit this time was different. He seemed changed, and full of quiet wonder.

This is the story he told me:

When he had arrived at the cemetery, he went to the place where his friend was buried. The spot was in, at that time, a somewhat less developed section of the cemetery, so whenever Jerry visited, he was always alone. On this anniversary day, things were not different, and Jerry stood in front of his friend’s grave deep in thought. Suddenly beside him, he heard a voice mentioning his friend, and when Jerry turned, there was a man standing there next to him. When I asked my husband for a description of the man, he said he was tall, very well-built, with longish blond hair, and wearing a black leather jacket, like he had just gotten off a motorcycle. Jerry thought it was odd that he hadn’t heard the man or any vehicle approaching, but he satisfied himself with the idea that he had been deep in thought and unaware of his surroundings.

The man began a conversation with Jerry about his friend, beginning with a comment that led Jerry to believe the man really did know his friend, guy-talk that only a friend would really understand. He then told Jerry how he knew his friend, through a country club where they both golfed, which Jerry found a little strange, because the man did not look like your average country club golfer, but he let it go. The man then told him that Jerry’s friend’s wife had received many cards and letters but left them unopened, not being able to deal with the emotions that the sympathy created. She was in deep grief, according to the man, completely understandable, given the sudden circumstances. The man told Jerry how and why his friend had died so suddenly, a clot that had travelled through his body. It all made such perfect sense to Jerry, and was a great relief for him to hear and know.

Jerry looked at his watch, and it was nearly time for the cemetery to close its gates for the day. The man headed for the road, and that is where Jerry saw a motorcycle parked under a tree. The man sat on the bike, and turned to Jerry and flashed him a peace sign and spoke one word – “Peace.” And he was gone.

When Jerry came home that night for dinner, I saw that he was changed. He asked me quietly what I thought of the story, of the man he had met, and the knowledge he gave that helped Jerry. I could feel that Jerry’s pain had lifted. I said quietly that maybe Jerry had met an angel in the cemetery, and Jerry repeated that when the man had turned and said “Peace.”, it didn’t feel casual. It was different than the way he had ever heard the word said before.

The next day I was driving in my car, listening to a Christian radio station that aired a live show at 2PM. The announcer came on the radio and said, “Friends, our guest today is the author of a book “Angels on Motorcycles.” I laughed out loud, full of wonder at the ways of God.

When I first met Jerry, he had recently sold his motorcycle. He never bought another one but had told me stories of his motorcycle days. He always had an affinity for the riders we saw on the highway, and he taught me to give them extra room on the road. At heart, I thought he would always be a rider.

I have tried to find a copy of that book. I have never been able to verify that it even exists.

Over twenty years have passed since this story occurred. So many wonderful and sad things have happened in those years. I confess that in many situations I turn sometimes in eagerness, hoping that an angel will touch me with a message from God. But like the title of this piece, it’s likely that I won’t be aware of an angel’s presence.

I can dream though…

Peace.

Dear God,

All praise to You alone. Thank You for the gift of Jesus, Your Son who is also God and for the gift of Your Holy Spirit. Thank You for the message They bring to us of Your Love.

In Jesus Precious Name I pray,

Amen.

 

 

Jerry, college days

The shepherds went in haste to Bethlehem and found Mary and Joseph,
and the infant lying in the manger.
When they saw this,
they made known the message
that had been told them about this child.
All who heard it were amazed
by what had been told them by the shepherds.
And Mary kept all these things,
reflecting on them in her heart.
Then the shepherds returned,
glorifying and praising God
for all they had heard and seen,
just as it had been told to them. – Luke 2:16-20

This posted reading is actually the daily Mass reading for January 1, 2019. My family Christmas party was that day, and I spent time that morning preparing broccoli rabe, and the afternoon and early evening at the family event

As it turned out, the party was more successful than many of us thought it would be. Over the years, party attendance has ebbed and flowed, as different aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends have found their way to the rented hall where my mom, sisters, brother and I, and our spouses and children, have met for the past 5 years to celebrate Christmas. There is a gym, a stage, and a basketball hoop for the kids (and husbands!) to work off any physical energy. The rest of us sit at tables and eat, and I always worry that there won’t be enough food to feed everyone, and I always worry for no reason.

The main event of the day every year is something we have affectionately named “the circle.” After everyone eats and/or exchanges gifts or plays bingo, my mom asks everyone to bring a chair to the center of the gym floor and form a circle with our seats. Then she asks everyone to name something they are thankful for in the past year, and also to name something they would like to accomplish in the year ahead. A few of us inwardly feel dread when we hear the announcement that my mom has called for “the circle” to commence shortly. We have witnessed sharing through the years that has not been lighthearted, emotions shared that have brought forward tears. Some choose not to join “the circle” that year, knowing that we cannot share without bringing sadness to the room. I thought I should be a non-joiner this year and keep my sadness to myself. A few other people did not join as well. But it seems that the younger kids look forward to their moment in the spotlight. They don’t seem to have any shyness and are excited to share their past year’s accomplishments and future year’s goals with family and friends.

This year, my mom asked her brother Jim, my uncle, to lead in an opening prayer. He began a wonderful prayer by mentioning the Star of Bethlehem and how it led the Magi from another land to journey to the stable in Bethlehem. He thanked God that aunts, uncles, and cousins from other places had been led to this family place, like the Magi. Family at the celebration had journeyed from Nevada (bringing someone from Greece who lives in Nevada), England, Long Island (bringing someone from Italy who lives in New York now) and other towns around New Jersey. My mother’s family of seven sisters and brothers (and their children and grandchildren) was well represented. (One brother (far western New Jersey) and two sisters (Florida) stayed in their faraway homes.)

I should mention here that this event is celebrated by my Mom (my Dad died many years ago; his family are not a part of this particular celebration), her kids and her grandkids, and her brothers and sisters and their families, who have all descended from her mother and father, who emigrated from Italy separately to Northern New Jersey around the turn of the last century. Celestina and Victor met and married here. According to my mother, my grandmother came to America from Italy by ship when she was about 19 years old. She cleaned houses and saved her money, and when she had enough saved, she did something I think is quite extraordinary with her money.

She, a relatively poor immigrant girl, bought and donated a stained glass window in St. Ann church in Hoboken, New Jersey.

I never got to meet my grandmother. After having seven children with my grandfather, she died at a fairly young age. And so, I could never ask her why she chose to donate the window. I think I would have loved her answer. Today I wish I could sit with her in her kitchen and make homemade ravioli and have wonderful conversations.

My son was the first one to speak in the circle this year and what he said made me think. He said now he chooses to attend Sunday Mass at St. Ann church in Hoboken, and after Mass he goes to stand by the window for a few minutes. He is always struck by the fact that his great-grandmother’s name appears there, as he has noticed that here and in other churches it is rare to find a woman’s name as donating a window. He then said because of her, we were all gathered here at this celebration. I was moved by those thoughts.

The reading today from Luke’s gospel tells that the shepherds made haste to the manger in Bethlehem. The angel had come to them with “good news of great joy”, that a Savior for all the people had been born in Bethlehem, and that a sign to them would be that they would find the Savior in a manger wrapped in swaddling clothes. Luke’s reading tells that the shepherds found the manger in Bethlehem just as the angel had said, and they told everyone what the angel’s message to them was about the child, which amazed everyone who heard the shepherds. After this incredible visit, the shepherds returned to their fields, giving God glory and praise.

The shepherds went back to a lowly existence, glorifying and praising God. Yes, they were able to worship God as Jesus right there in their world. They had seen and heard angels sing and they had been in the actual presence of the Savior of the world. But if we really believe that Jesus is God, and I do, and we believe that He is our Savior, that He alone saved my life, and I do, then we know we too are always in His presence. We should always give God glory and praise, even when we return to a tough existence.

Knowing God’s love for me through the birth and sacrifice of Jesus changed everything in my life. Has that happened for you? I would love to hear about it.

I believe that my grandmother’s window tells many stories. I believe that in thankfulness she gave God the first fruits of her labor here in America. I don’t know the things she prayed for in her life, but her family still gathers every Christmas and all through the year in love, and we give thanks to God for everything He has given.

Glory and praise to God.

Dear God,
Praise and Glory to You alone. You are amazing. Thank You for all You have given me.
In Jesus Precious Name I pray, Amen

• 

“No one who lights a lamp conceals it with a vessel
or sets it under a bed;
rather, he places it on a lampstand
so that those who enter may see the light.”  – Luke 8:16 

… through him was life,
    and this life was the light of the human race;
the light shines in the darkness,
    and the darkness has not overcome it.

A man named John was sent from God. He came for testimony, to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.  – John 1:4-9

I haven’t been here in awhile

We moved from our house in early July and lived like vagabonds for a month and a half, sleeping on air mattresses and cots and couches. I will always be so grateful to everyone who found a place for us and even our dog. So many offered to house us and/or our belongings. I will also always be grateful to those who spent time listening to my nervousness and my complaining, and gave me hope when my hope was running empty. I learned many lessons these past months, about the generosity of people, and patience I need to develop, and how little we really need materially to live.

We moved here to our new home officially on September 1, and we are trying, but it doesn’t feel like home yet. I have had to find energy again to make this feel like a safe place, one where we three can get organized for our lives going forward. My kids seem to already have one foot heading into their next journeys, and I am glad for that and I ask that God will bless those journeys.

Todays gospel readings are truly beautiful.

First, in Luke’s gospel, Jesus speaks of a light that, when it is present, cannot be hidden, but placed where others can see it when they enter its presence.

I think about the qualities of light and darkness.

Sometimes I enjoy the darkness, the stillness I find there. I ponder many things in the darkness. But the darkness I am thinking of in this situation is really not total darkness. There is a light shining somewhere. Maybe it’s the moon and stars, maybe it’s a light someone left on in the house. There is a crack, under a door or behind a window curtain, and I am aware that somewhere else, not here where I am, there is a light shining, and if I think about it, I am very thankful for that light.

When I attended college I was confronted with the existence of what science calls a black hole, the total absence of any light or life, a place of blackness where nothing could or did exist. My thoughts could not get away from the nothingness. The other people I spent time around were searching themselves for the meaning of their own lives, and so they couldn’t be much help to me, as I searched for my own life’s meaning. I started to look at the world around me in a very frightened way. I felt alone, I could not confide in any one.

A Jesuit priest I had met on campus rescued me from my darkness, offering kindness and support. He became my friend when I really needed a friend. A year later, another Jesuit priest who taught my literature class offered me an exciting opportunity to assist and teach a summer college literature class (an opportunity I have always regretted not taking).

When I think of priests of the Jesuit order, I always remember the love and compassion these gentlemen showed me.

A friend of my family and the church community and of the world (literally) died last night after sustaining injuries as a pedestrian in a horrific vehicular accident. He was 76 years old.

Everyone who knew Bob described him in the same way – as their friend. Bob was also educated by Jesuits and was a career journalist. After we met he encouraged me to write a small article about my experiences with the Jesuits we both knew. I did not take his offer (another regret). After that, Bob volunteered my husband and I to organize and serve a meal for two summers to 120 people at the county homeless shelter. He often called to ask me to make a meat loaf or baked ziti for the homeless. He organized and personally distributed books and knowledge on several visits to a seminary in the Philippines. At my husband’s funeral Mass, Monsignor Rich asked me if I had a family member in mind to be the lector and I told him that I actually had thought Bob should do it and Monsignor said he had thought the same thing. Bob’s reading of the Scriptures was masterful, a beautiful part of Jerry’s Mass and I will always be thankful for that. After Jerry’s passing, Bob helped my son with thoughtful advice. He was a compassionate encourager.

In John’s gospel, he writes that Jesus is the light who came into a world that didn’t understand Him. He writes that John the Baptist testified that God’s light in the form of Jesus was coming into the world to enlighten us. John the Apostle writes that the darkness of the world could not overcome the light that is Jesus Christ.

God’s enlightenment and love in the form of Jesus is the light that we cannot hide and keep to ourselves. We need to be generous. The Jesuits of my college days were a beacon of light and love. They shared with creative compassion. They gave me hope when I felt hopeless. Bob was also a welcoming light, in our church, community, and the world he found himself travelling to in his later years. The people who have given so generously to my children and I have also been light-bearers, keeping us safe and afloat in their hopefulness.

Thank you most gratefully to all the bearers of hopeful light.

Prayer:

Dear God,

You alone are deserving of all praise. Thank You for giving us Your Beloved Son Jesus and Your Holy Spirit. I thank You for all the bearers of Your Light in this world and for sharing them generously with myself and my children. I pray that You will bless them always.

In your Blessed Son Jesus’ Name I pray,

Amen

Feeding the Five Thousand

---

After this Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, also called the Sea of Tiberias. A large crowd kept following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing for the sick. Jesus went up the mountain and sat down there with his disciples. Now the Passover, the festival of the Jews, was near. When he looked up and saw a large crowd coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?” He did this to test him, for he himself knew what he was going to do. Philip answered him, “Six months’ wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little.” One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?” Jesus said, “Make the people sit down.” Now there was a great deal of grass in the place; so they sat down, about five thousand in all. Then Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, as much as they wanted. When they were satisfied, he told his disciples, “Gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost.” So they gathered them up, and from the fragments of the five barley loaves, left by those who had eaten, they filled twelve baskets. When the people saw the sign that he had done, they began to say, “This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world.”

When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.  – John 6:1-15  (NRSVCE)

This morning, I woke at 4:30 AM. I thrashed around on the air mattress that has been my bed for 2 weeks, trying to get comfortable again. It wasn’t an easy task, but I thought I had finally found a spot where I might fall back into sleep. However, not a chance. Because, you see, it was not just my body that couldn’t rest, it was my mind. My thoughts were racing through my brain, my worries banging around in there, and finally I surrendered. I acknowledged I had been bested once again by the cares of my life.

I could make you a list of my current worries. It might not be as long as yours. I am not writing them here. I feel like writing them down might make them stronger. Even more though, if you have your own worries, you don’t need my list added to yours. You probably already have enough on your plate.

I found my way in the dark to the front house. I thought I would watch the sun rise over the bay in an hour or two. I found my laptop on a table in front of a window and opened it to the readings for today’s Sunday Mass. And it happened again. That thing that happens nearly every time. The daily bible readings seemed to address exactly my situation.

I know what some of you may be thinking. You are thinking, “Any bible verse or story can be molded to fit any situation.” I sometimes have a thought like that. But the verses often seem to fit so perfectly. Sometimes the same verse or story does fit many situations. Maybe all of our issues can be broken down into just a couple of main issues. I don’t know. I don’t care. In any case, I find the synergy amazing and wonderful.

Today’s daily readings started with 2 Kings 4:42-44. Elisha the prophet instructs a man bearing gifts of bread and grain to feed the gifts to the people. The man objects. His gifts could never feed so many. Elisha insists, and when the deed is finished, the people have eaten enough and there are leftovers, as the Lord had said.

The Responsorial Psalm is taken from Psalm 145. The response refrain for the congregation is “The hand of the Lord feeds us; he answers all our needs.” I feel that icy block of worry inside of me starting to melt. I begin to realize that the refrain should be spoken, by me, out loud, into the morning darkness. Speaking these words of positivity begins to erase anxious thoughts.

The second reading is from Saint Paul’s letter to the Ephesians. I read it looking forward to the next reading, today’s Gospel reading. When I read it that way, I see the humility and gentleness and love that Paul is telling the Christians of Ephesus to treat one another with is just the care with which Jesus treated the crowds who followed Him to the other side of the Sea of Galilee in today’s Gospel, the feeding of the five thousand. As my mind often does, I remembered the verses of Psalm 23.

When I read Psalm 23, written by David hundreds of years before Christ, I only think of Jesus. David writes that the Lord is his shepherd. Jesus is the Good Shepherd, the Divine Shepherd. When I think about the verses of Psalm 23, I see that Jesus brings reality to those verses in this gospel story of the feeding of the five thousand. Jesus saw the people coming towards Him and treated them as the greatest good shepherd would treat his flock. He had compassion for them. He made them rest in the green grass. He led and they followed Him along the shores of the waters of Galilee. He restored their souls, healing them of their diseases, forgiving their sins. He led them on righteous paths, encouraging them to live better lives, lives of love for each other in His name.

I feel that Jesus was testing the faith of His disciples as He performed this new miracle of bread and fish, wanting their faith to grow stronger as they witnessed another miracle of God’s abundant generosity. When Jesus thanks God first before the miracle, He is demonstrating that with God alone this miracle will happen, that only God can make anything possible. I think Jesus was also modelling for His disciples the necessary characteristics of a good shepherd. The disciples of Jesus needed strong, resilient faith and true Love so they could shepherd others as Jesus shepherded them, knowing that God will never stop giving, serving the flock with gentleness and humility, not desiring elevation of self, as Jesus did not desire it, escaping the crowd when He saw they wanted to make Him king. 

Psalm 23 is a testimony to the power of God. David writes with confidence that the Shepherd’s comfort is greater than any fear we can have and stronger than any enemy that presents itself. Jesus, our shepherd, will carry us through our darkest valleys to a table of God’s bounty that has been set for us, treating us as honored guests, anointing our foreheads with sacred oil.

It is quite a picture. Jesus’ feeding of the five thousand is a miracle that shows that all things are possible with God. God’s abundance even produces leftovers. “My cup overflows.” Yes, the miracle of loaves and fish might be a foreshadowing of the great feast that is to come when our journey is done, but it even more so is a visible sign that God is able and willing to provide what we need in the here and now. Have courage. He answers all our needs.

I need to be reminded of the abundance of God’s generosity. When the situations of my life chip away at my faith, I need to be reminded of God’s love and His willingness to be my Shepherd. I need to let my faith grow strong through my trials, so that I might help others when they face worries and trials.

Get with it, Regina.

Your cup overflows.

Prayer:

Dear Father,

All praise be Yours alone.

I pray that I will always remember that You alone can answer all my needs.

I pray that I will keep Jesus in front of me as my only Shepherd, as Your perfect model of selfless love.

Thank You for this miracle of bread and fish. I pray that I will remember this miracle when I feel defeated by worldly worries. I pray to remember every day that all things are possible in You.

In Your Most Blessed Son Jesus’ Name I pray,

Amen

The Agony in the Garden. Then they came to a place named Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” He took with him Peter, James, and John, and began to be troubled and distressed. Then he said to them, “My soul is sorrowful even to death. Remain here and keep watch.”  – Mark 14:32-34

I don’t want to always be sad. I don’t want to always write about sadness, and fear, and anxiety. I would love to rejoice instead, to dance and to sing. I want happiness. But sad and afraid is where I am right now.

My world was turned upside down. I thought I was doing okay; I thought I was coping. But in February, I had to face things differently. Life keeps changing.

Today is Palm Sunday. This morning I attended Mass and we held palms and said, “Crucify him.”

I looked around my church, and my eyes followed The Stations of the Cross. Each plaque as they go around the walls of my church tells the agonizing story of the Passion of Our Lord Jesus – His arrest and trial, His conviction, His punishment, carrying His Cross to the place He would die, His Crucifixion, His Death on the Cross, His Burial. I sat in view of the plaque of Jesus as He is taken down from the Cross after His Death.

Who am I? What right do I have to be afraid of my small life, when Jesus suffered on a cross of wood and died for me?

And yet, I am still here.  

There is a kind woman at my church who goes to each plaque and statue after Mass and touches them and kisses them if she can. She lost her grandson who was three years old to an illness. She told me once that her touches and kisses bring order to her mind. I have thought about her often in church, and thought about how the touches bring her comfort. Today I thought, I am like her in this way, that I seek my comfort from Jesus. For me though, the Bible is where I am comforted. For me, the Bible is Jesus. He hugs and consoles me there.

I was struggling with anxiety again about a year before my husband died. I have told about my healing from anxiety and it is true that I received my healing about 27 years ago, but from time to time the strong chains of fear grab hold and try to find a place in my soul again. Usually, I can pray it away, or read the Bible and it goes away, or the Holy Spirit gives me healing memories and the anxiety flees, but that year the fear came one night and was stubborn for many days. I could feel the strength of the fear, and I could not find peace. I would turn the pages of the Bible but I could not find peace there. I remember crying out to Him. “Jesus, where are You in this? I know You are here somewhere in this, but where?”

One late afternoon, I was riding in my car, and suddenly a picture came to my mind. It was a scene from the movie “The Passion of the Christ.” Jesus was in the garden of Gethsemane, it was night and He knew the soldiers were coming for Him. He asked Peter, James and John to keep watch while He prayed. In the gospel of Mark, Jesus is troubled and distressed and tells the three disciples that He “… is sorrowful even to death.” In the movie, He prays in the garden away from them, and then paces through the rocky dirt towards them, and you can feel His anxiety in the rocky pacing of His dusty sandals. I realized then that Jesus understood my anxiety. He was born into this world to feel what we feel, our pain and our fear, and also our love and joy. He was right there with me, always was and would never leave me.

Now, it is my turn. It’s my turn to keep watch this Holy Week. To stay at the foot of His Cross, while He suffers and dies for me, for us.

I know I am not very good at keeping watch. But I will try.

I want to be able to run on Easter Sunday, and rejoice there when we find His tomb empty. 

Amen. Alleluia.

 

The angel brought me, Ezekiel,
back to the entrance of the temple of the LORD,
and I saw water flowing out
from beneath the threshold of the temple toward the east,
for the façade of the temple was toward the east;
the water flowed down from the right side of the temple,
south of the altar…

…Then he brought me to the bank of the river, where he had me sit.
Along the bank of the river I saw very many trees on both sides.
He said to me,
“This water flows into the eastern district down upon the Arabah,
and empties into the sea, the salt waters, which it makes fresh.
Wherever the river flows,
every sort of living creature that can multiply shall live,
and there shall be abundant fish,
for wherever this water comes the sea shall be made fresh.
Along both banks of the river, fruit trees of every kind shall grow;
their leaves shall not fade, nor their fruit fail.
Every month they shall bear fresh fruit,
for they shall be watered by the flow from the sanctuary.
Their fruit shall serve for food, and their leaves for medicine.” – EZ 47:1-9, 12

In the early months of 1978, I was a college sophomore. It was sometime in those months that my father was diagnosed with a brain tumor and given three to six months to live. To say his diagnosis rocked my family is an understatement. He was just 50 years old and had a wife and five children under the age of 20. I was the oldest of the children and did not know how to behave in this new family situation. Looking back, I will say that my youthful optimism did not totally disappear, but the cancer was present in my mind all the time.

My dad was born in the late 1920s and from what he would tell us, times were not easy for him. His home life did not seem very stable. His childhood stories though were not negative, just matter-of-fact. It seemed he was expelled from the local schools and this should have been upsetting but, from pictures and stories, it seemed he lived his young life carefree, reckless, and directionless. Then he was drafted into World War II and found himself in Germany towards the war’s end. His experiences there changed the way he viewed his life, and when he returned to New Jersey he eventually thought he might become a Catholic priest. He visited a seminary and was communicating with a few Catholic nuns, but eventually he changed direction, met my mom, and no, he didn’t become a priest. He did however remain a spiritual person, attended Mass regularly, received the Catholic sacraments regularly. Most of all, he had a very alive, active faith in Jesus Christ, as Son of God, Savior and Friend. Most conversations  with him would eventually turn to Jesus.

When he was diagnosed with cancer, he was already taking long walks all over our town and neighboring towns, and while he always met other people on these travels, I have to believe he was often in conversation with Jesus, his best friend. After his diagnosis these walks continued, and one day he returned home to tell me this story. He said that on his walk he was asking God why he had been stricken ill, because he had a family and all those children and how were we going to make it without him to provide for all of us. He was very worried for us. And he said he received this answer. The answer was “Don’t worry, Henry (his name). Always remember the Abundant Stream.” And he asked me, “What do you think that meant, Regina?”

Through the years I have thought to answer this question many times. I have always believed that the stream is representative of God’s abundant generosity, of His promise to care for widows and orphans, of His gifts to us all of His Son Jesus and His Holy Spirit. When I started to read the Bible, many scripture verses reinforced this concept. In Psalm 23, which we memorized as a family here, the psalmist wrote “My cup overflows.” Our cups, our lives, cannot ever hold God’s generosity. His generosity cannot be contained in the smallness of our imaginations.

Today’s verse is written in the book of the prophet Ezekial. Ezekial tells of a vision he is given of a beautiful stream that flows from God’s Temple, whose waters make salt waters fresh, nourishing all forms of life along its banks, fish and fruit trees, for food and for healing. Wow. What an incredible vision. It’s a vision of restoration. God is restoring what was destroyed by man’s sinful nature, and He is giving now His Nourishment and His Healing. The heading of the verse in this translation is “The Wonderful Stream.” I wonder if my dad is enjoying the abundant goodness of God somewhere near a beautiful stream.

I have lived here in this house now for 25 years. I moved here with my husband and my son. My daughter was born 4 years later. It has been a good house in a safe neighborhood to raise kids. This house is full of memories of family and of love. But things change. My husband is gone now. Time goes on its strong way. We may need to move from here. It’s a very hard thing to face. I don’t really want to leave. I admit I am afraid to go. But I need to believe that if we go, it is the Stream that will bring us to the next home, the next place, and the Stream will continue to flow there.

In one of my favorite Gospel stories, Jesus tells the Samaritan woman, “… whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst; the water I shall give will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” (John 4:14) What can be greater than this Water, the spring that Jesus gives us to drink from? I will follow him, my Shepherd Jesus, to the abundant Stream of God. Jesus is God’s abundant generous Grace.

The book of Ezekial ends with this verse which describes now this new city which God has created, “From now on the name of the city is “The LORD is there.” (Ezekial 48:35.) I will try to remember that it is Jesus who is my Stream. Where He is, is my home. “The Lord is there.”

Prayer for today:

Lord God, You are Wonderful. Jesus, stay with us. Be our strength.

In Jesus Precious Name I pray,

Amen 

The Transfiguration of Jesus

Jesus took Peter, James, and John
and led them up a high mountain apart by themselves.
And he was transfigured before them,
and his clothes became dazzling white,
such as no fuller on earth could bleach them.
Then Elijah appeared to them along with Moses,
and they were conversing with Jesus.
Then Peter said to Jesus in reply,
“Rabbi, it is good that we are here!
Let us make three tents:
one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”
He hardly knew what to say, they were so terrified.
Then a cloud came, casting a shadow over them;
from the cloud came a voice,
“This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.”
Suddenly, looking around, they no longer saw anyone
but Jesus alone with them.

As they were coming down from the mountain,
he charged them not to relate what they had seen to anyone,
except when the Son of Man had risen from the dead. – Mark 9:2-9

This afternoon I plan to attend Eucharistic Adoration at my parish church. I am a Catholic, and Catholics believe that the Eucharist is changed during the Mass from a mere bread wafer to the actual Body of the Lord Jesus. For Eucharistic Adoration, a consecrated Host is placed in a protective outer vessel; the vessel is then placed, most times on an altar, for a period of time for exposition of the Blessed Sacrament. In my parish and in many parishes, devoted persons are welcome to come before the Sacrament and worship, meditate and spend time with the Savior Jesus Christ. It is a time for me to sit quietly and to reflect, and to worship and to give thanks to the Lord Jesus. It may be that people who are not Catholic view this time Catholics spend as naïve, or foolish, or wasteful. For me though, I can honestly testify that I feel that Adoration is an affirmation of my Catholic faith, and as I sit before the Sacrament, I have felt this time spent quietly there has helped my relationship with God to grow, and is nourishing and vital to me.

Today’s gospel verse is found in Mark 9:2-9. It tells of the Transfiguration of Jesus. He changes before the eyes of three of His closest disciples from the Jesus of the world they know into the Jesus who exists beyond this earth. His clothes appear as dazzling. In my Greek translation Jesus’ clothes are like the snow, brighter than any white that man can create. I think it would fair to say that the disciples must have been blinded by the white light from Heaven before them.

Then Elijah and Moses appear to the disciples and these two great men of the Jewish faith are in conversation with Jesus. Peter and the others are so afraid.

At that moment a cloud comes in the sky and overshadows them, and out of the cloud comes a voice, and Peter, James and John are told that “This is my beloved Son.” and the disciples of Jesus are told further to “Listen to him.” And when the disciples look around after the voice speaks, they see only Jesus.

Today, I think about the Transfiguration of Jesus, which also appears in two of the other gospels. There are so many thoughts I have as I read the narrative.

I think about the careful groundwork that Jesus laid out for these disciples to prepare and strengthen their faith for what lay ahead for Jesus and for them. I think about the fear the disciples have as they witness the awesome power of God. I think about how God reaches them through their Jewish faith, impressing and leaving them awestruck with the appearance of Elijah and Moses. And how just as suddenly as the great Jewish leaders appear, they disappear and only Jesus is left, and God leaves no doubt. Jesus is far greater than any human being who ever was. Jesus is God himself, but Jesus is also God’s Son who He loves.  I think about the love Jesus had for His Father and for His disciples, and I also think about the love the disciples had for Jesus.

Today and hopefully all tomorrows I will think about the Transfiguration of Jesus. I will listen to Him and try to learn from His teachings. I will look at The Blessed Sacrament and I will remember that Jesus was transfigured long ago before the eyes of His disciples. He is God’s Son but He also belongs to us, earthly and imperfect beings that we are, and He is always present here with us.

How awesome.

Prayer for today:

Dear God,

How awesome You are.

You told us that Jesus is Your beloved Son.

Jesus is God and Jesus is man. He is Yours, and through Your Generosity and Love, He is ours.

Thank You for giving Jesus to us. Thank You, Jesus, for loving us so much and never leaving us.

In Jesus Precious Name I pray,

Amen

Jesus Teaches Nicodemus

Now there was a Pharisee, a man named Nicodemus who was a member of the Jewish ruling council.  He came to Jesus at night and said, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the signs you are doing if God were not with him.”                                                                                    

Jesus replied, “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again.”                                                                                                                              

“How can someone be born when they are old?” Nicodemus asked. “Surely they cannot enter a second time into their mother’s womb to be born!”                        

Jesus answered, “Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit. Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. – John 3:1-6

Where were you in early September 1991? What were you doing in your life?

Maybe you weren’t born yet – not yet here on earth.

Unbelievably, I know where I was.

I was 32 years old. I was working in an office in East Rutherford, New Jersey.  And I saw an advertisement for a rally that was taking place that night across the highway at the Meadowlands Arena. I called a friend and asked her if she wanted to go that night to the arena with me. I mentioned to a work colleague too that I had decided to attend and he said he wanted to go too. Could he come with us, as he really wanted to go over there with someone? So we crossed the highway after work and met my friend, and we went in to an event that changed my life.

Because although I was born to my parents in February 1959, my new Christian life began that night in September 1991 when I got up from my seat and went down to the arena floor and asked Jesus to come into my heart. In repentance, I asked Jesus to take control of my life.

I reached for God’s light and I was found.

I feel I was born again that night.

This morning, it was all over the television news that the evangelist Billy Graham had died. The news story I heard was surprisingly most respectful. I considered that some or many of the news reporters had attended a Billy Graham Crusade. It made me cry to think that another person maybe loved Jesus because they had asked Him finally like I had, at a Billy Graham Crusade, maybe even the same night as me.

I met my friend in the parking lot after the rally, and I could see she had been expecting more “fire and brimstone” that night from Mr. Graham. It was funny because what he had preached was exactly what I needed and wanted to hear that night. That God truly loved me. That I was His child. That He would be with me always.

Like the parable Jesus told in Matthew 13 of the farmer who scattered seed, the seed that fell in front of me all that time ago fell on fertile soil that night. I will always be thankful, so thankful, that Jesus found me and loved me.

Guess what? Jesus so loves you. Even though it feels like I am the apple of his eye, He loves you too. And even though there won’t be a Graham Crusade like the one I went to, there will be other Christian rallies. Or you can watch a YouTube video of a crusade where Mr. Graham speaks about Jesus. Or you can attend your church and hear Christ’s teachings. You can listen to wonderful Christian evangelists on your car radio. And you can read the Bible alone or at a study with someone else. You can fill your heart and your head with Jesus, with His gospel. Most of all, you can pray for the light of Jesus to lead your life

You can prepare the soil in front of you to be fertile and to bear fruit.

Right now, for me, the soil is still fertile, but I need to guard against the thorns of my life that want to crowd into my heart. I am grateful for these messages I write because I remind myself that my spiritual well-being depends on my staying close to the Only One who can keep me safe. Jesus Christ, of course.

I remember that night that Mr. Graham called us down to the floor with the gentle yet insistent words “Isn’t it time?” I tried to find him saying that on a YouTube video but I couldn’t. It doesn’t matter though. I can still hear him saying those words.

For me it was time. To ask Jesus to be my Savior. To be born again.

Prayer for today:

I praise you, God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I pray that all of us You created desire to be close to You through Your Son Jesus. I pray that all would ask to be born again of Your Spirit. Thank you for blessing me, in this way especially,  and in all ways.

In Jesus Precious Name I pray,

Amen 

The Beginning

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.

And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.  God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.  (Genesis 1:1-5)

I give only You my praise. I pray the we would all know that life is a precious gift and treat all life with dignity and respect. I pray that all the victims of human violence find peace and comfort in You. Thank You for the gift of life.

In Jesus Precious Name I pray,

Amen

Jesus departed from there and came to his native place, 
accompanied by his disciples.
When the sabbath came he began to teach in the synagogue,
and many who heard him were astonished.
They said, “Where did this man get all this?
What kind of wisdom has been given him?
What mighty deeds are wrought by his hands!
Is he not the carpenter, the son of Mary,
and the brother of James and Joseph and Judas and Simon?
And are not his sisters here with us?”
And they took offense at him.
Jesus said to them,
“A prophet is not without honor except in his native place
and among his own kin and in his own house.”
So he was not able to perform any mighty deed there,
apart from curing a few sick people by laying his hands on them.   – Mark 6:1-5

Twenty-seven years ago, I was a mess. No, I wasn’t addicted to a substance (except nicotine, but maybe that’s for later discussion.) Yes, I was in my early thirties, my husband was handsome; I had a job that paid the bills. From outward appearances, I had it all, or at least, I had a lot. From the outside, I was a pretty woman, I was healthy, and I had family and friends. From outward appearances, I had a life that was near perfect, or at least, pretty great.

Then, one day, I was at my desk at work, on the phone with my account representative, and the breakfast I had enjoyed 15 minutes before, came back up into my mouth, pretty much the way I had swallowed it. It took me by total surprise, because I felt fine, no nausea. I didn’t know it then, but I was starting a journey into severe anxiety and depression. I was at the beginning of an adventure that took me into despair and hopelessness, but notice – I call it an adventure, which is not a negative word. No, an adventure, when looking back, can be exciting and full of surprise. An adventure can be hopeful.

Severe anxiety and depression manifest in many ways, and I had physical, emotional and psychological symptoms. I was no longer able to eat solid food. I would be taking a shower and need to get out suddenly and run, soaked and barely dressed into my city street. I would tell my department director I had to leave work early because I thought I was having a heart attack. I remember taking an anniversary vacation trip with my husband, and a Rolling Stones song came on the radio. “Here it comes, here it comes, it’s just your 19^th nervous breakdown…” and he made it louder because he liked the song, and then turned it off after looking at me and apologizing. I realized that he was also having great trouble dealing with my anxiety.

Because I was generally a person of action, I looked for a solution to my illness. And after visiting doctors and therapists and finding only a little relief, I began to look for my healing in a different place – spiritual healing. And I found it in a place I had never considered seriously in my life. I found my healing in God’s Word, the Bible. I found my healer in Jesus.

In today’s Gospel, the people in the town where Jesus grew up were astonished. As far as they knew, Jesus was a carpenter, from a local family of brothers and sisters. I do find it interesting though, that they identify Jesus as Mary’s son, that they don’t mention Joseph. By then Joseph had most likely died, but Jesus was claiming to be the Son of God, and to be teaching and healing with that authority.

Mark writes that they took offense of Jesus. Even though He taught with wisdom and performed miracles with His hands, they could not go beyond their previous knowledge of Him as just an ordinary carpenter. They stopped at outward appearances. Jesus speaks of a prophet receiving no honor from his own people. At the beginning verses of John’s Gospel, John writes that Jesus “…came to that which was His own, but His own did not recognize Him.”

Before you assume that I view myself as some enlightened human who recognized Jesus right away in my life, please, that’s not the way it began for me. I was ready to let modern medicine heal me. I know that many people need therapy and medication to help them through their anxiety and depression, and in many cases, therapy and medication may be the only current solution that helps people stay healthy, physically and psychologically, but that door was closed to me. Therapy helped a little. Anti-anxiety medication did not work at all for me. So I started in a different direction, and it led me to the Bible, and the Bible led me to Jesus. As I read the Bible and it revealed the Truth, my faith grew and got stronger and my anxiety basically left, making a surprisingly quick exit. I received healing. But for me, the greater gift I received was the knowledge that Jesus is Christ, my Savior.

I believe that God can do whatever He wants to do.  If He wants to part a sea, or have a man live in the belly of a whale for three days, or create a universe, He can and will do it. But I also believe we need to acknowledge Him, to recognize Him and to recognize His Son. Twenty- seven years ago, from the outside looking in, my life looked great. The outward appearance though was not what was truth. The truth was, I was a mess. Then I went knocking on God’s door, and Jesus answered. This began my exciting adventure. I began my hopeful search in God’s direction and I will always be grateful for the healing I received. And even more, I am so thankful for the relationship with God that has developed and grown through the years.

I need to remember this history and to stay open to God and to His miracles.

This quote is attributed to Albert Einstein. “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

Not soon after my anxiety went away, my husband Jerry and I got pregnant and seven months later (33 weeks) I gave birth to my son Joseph. Tomorrow, February 1, 2018, he turns 25 years old.  Today, as I often do every year, I acknowledge this as a kind of miracle. I began the morning thinking about my son’s birthday tomorrow and miracles, and after reading Mark’s Gospel I can only feel gratitude.

I choose the second part of Einstein’s observation – I choose to live my life today believing everything is a miracle.

Prayer of today:

Dear Father,

I praise you. You are all powerful. You are all wonderful. Thank You for finding me when I searched and bringing me to the feet of Your Son Jesus. Please, may Your Holy Spirit always be close and always guiding me, reminding me of Your past Blessings and Your constant Love. I pray to be always open to You and to recognize Your Miracles.

In Your Son Jesus’ Holy Name I pray,

Amen