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Several years ago, my family was stationed in Las Vegas. The Air Force Ball is in September and, having not been to one in years, my husband and I decided to go.
We bought our tickets, got all fancied up, and set off to the dinner and dance.
In my pride, I stupidly thought that since my husband was a newly minted Lt. Col, we would have dinner seats towards the front with the big wigs.
However, when we got there, our seats were at the furthest table from everything. We were tucked back in the corner. As we approached our table, it was already filled; only our two spots were vacant. The crazy thing was, was that it was filled with old retired military guys and their wives. My husband was the only active duty guy at the table.
As we sat down, I thought to myself, “How the heck did we get this table?”
But, as I sat there, I have to say, we had the primo spot. I was surrounded by couples with amazing stories. They weren’t trying to impress anyone with fake smiles and surface-level conversations. My husband and I were given a most excellent gift that night getting to sit amongst guys barely able to fit into their uniforms anymore, but who had shed all pretense.
They joked, argued, told fantastic stories, gave advice, and through it all, my husband and I just soaked it up. At one point, I looked around the room at the other tables. Everyone was stiff and proper. Then I looked at my table full of men and women who wanted nothing more than to just laugh, swap stories, and enjoy the evening.
I learned a great lesson that night, one that Jesus teaches about in today’s Gospel reading from Matthew. That lesson is:
Don’t go looking for places and seats of honor. Don’t think that authority and power are where it’s at. In my pride, I wanted to be up front at the dinner, which is wrong and selfish.
Instead, I was humbled, and placed in the very back with probably the coolest people in the room with the best stories.
When we go looking for honors and praise, Catholic Pilgrims, we only look to serve ourselves and life becomes a bit bland. When we, instead, are more interested in others, that’s when life becomes very full and fascinating.
Have a blessed Sunday.
I was watching a video the other day on the Passion of Jesus by Edward Siri. At one point, he is standing inside the Holy Sepulcher up on Golgotha. (Yes, it's all inside this massive church.) It brought back a lot of amazing memories of being up there. That's me under the altar there in the picture. See the rocks under the glass cases? Anyway, watching Edward Siri talk, I realized something very profound. Up on Golgotha, there is the space where Christ died. The altar is over the hole in the rock where His cross was stuck in the ground. Facing the altar, over on the right side is a place for Mass. It is beautiful and lighted. Over on the left side, it is dark. Very dark. What's so interesting is that it's dark and huge and it seems to drop off into an abyss. What I realized is that on either side of Jesus hung two thieves. Their responses to Jesus truly reflect the aesthetics up on Golgotha. The "good thief" had the first confession up there on his cross and he repents, asking Christ to remember him. Jesus tells him he will be with him in Paradise. The side with the place for Mass reflects the good thief's decision to come to Christ.--light and beauty. The other thief mocks Jesus and never repents. The side of darkness up on Golgotha reflects his decision to harden his heart and continue to deny Christ up until his last breath. This is the choice laid before all of us: Do we choose to turn to Christ and repent desiring to be with Him in Paradise? Or do we choose to turn away from Christ and be suffocated by our sins to only one day fall off into darkness and the abyss? This Good Friday, as we meditate on Our Savior's Passion, let us do whatever it takes in our lives to always turn towards Christ. May you have a blessed Good Friday, Catholic Pilgrims.
Continue ReadingOn October 20th, 2020, when my family was living in Izmir, Turkey, we experienced a 7.0 earthquake. My kids and I were on the 15th floor of our apartment building and the building swayed and bucked in the most terrifying and unnatural of ways. For 45 seconds, which seems like an eternity in an earthquake. Certain that the building was coming down on me and my kids, I did all I could think to do and we stood in a door frame praying the Our Father. After it was over, I told my kids to just run. Run out. They ran out with no shoes on and I quickly followed. To make a long story short, the higher ups in the military were worried about a tsunami and so they told my husband to get all military members to higher ground. We ended up in a very poor neighborhood surrounded by Syrian refugees. The contrast in groups could not have been more striking. At one point, a Syrian mother came over to me and started pointing at my feet. I couldn't understand her but it was clear she was asking where my shoes were and the shoes of my children. Through lots of hand gestures, I tried to explain that we just ran out of a tall building. She seemed to ponder this and then walked away. Soon, she came back with shoes for my kids. I was baffled. Here was this poor woman giving to me from the little she had. She saw a mother and her kids in need and she wanted to help. At first, I denied them. I felt horrible taking from her. But, she quickly made it clear that I was not to deny her. I realized that I needed to gratefully accept her gift because she was trying to serve us in some capacity. She was trying to help. She was trying to love. It was one of the greatest acts of charity I have ever received. Peter initially tells Christ not to wash his feet. He doesn't want to be served, he should serve. But, Christ gently rebukes him for this. We find meaning and purpose when we serve others. Sometimes our service to others helps to humble us; sometimes receiving service helps to humble us. It is a great reminder that one of the best ways to love each other is to serve each other, Catholic Pilgrims. Have a blessed Holy Thursday. *These are the shoes given to us.
Continue ReadingWhen I was 17 and turned away from God, I still pretended that I was some kind of stellar Christian. However, I traded a relationship with God to feel comforted by my anger. That's weird to say, but the intense anger I felt was comforting to me. It wasn't real comfort, but it fueled me. But, also, I traded church for sleeping in because I was tired. I traded reading Scripture for watching, listening, and reading whatever secular trash the world could supply me. I traded prayer for doing whatever I wanted to do. All the while, I sat there and lived this barely existent Christian life, yet I had the gall to feign like I wasn't betraying my Lord. "Surely it is not I?" In fact, I did say similar things to Judas in my attempt to pretend like I wasn't one of the betrayers. "Me? Oh, no, not me?" Judas traded the Bread of Life for some money and nearly 2,000 years later we look back and say, "Man, look at him. Gave it all up for thirty pieces of silver. Idiot." However, many give up the Eucharist for even less and we fail to see it. For good music. For an inspiring sermon. For sports. For sleep. For simply the desire to sin while pretending God doesn't see us. There isn't a trade on earth that is worth giving up Christ, Catholic Pilgrims. Nothing could possibly satisfy us like He can. Live the Faith boldly and travel well this Wednesday of Holy Week.
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