Enriching Our Faith Community Together

Dear Friends,

As we inch our way out of the pandemic and reopen our parishes, we can harbor two attitudes toward pitching in. The attitudes are jealousy and apathy. They are played out in both the first reading and Gospel today. In the reading from Numbers, the Spirit of God came to rest on Medad and Eldad, two men who were not part of the original prophets. Joshua wanted Moses to stop them, but Moses welcomed their participation. In the Gospel, the disciple John wanted to prevent a man who was not in the intimate group around Jesus from casting out demons in Jesus’ name. But Jesus said: “No, do not prevent him.”

The ugly head of jealousy reared up in both instances. “Hey. Wait a minute You are invading our turf. These works are our responsibility. You’re going to get credit for something we think we ought to do and get credit for.”

When we encounter interlopers like Eldad, Medad and the unnamed person in the Gospel, we, the builders of the community, are resentful. We are authorized. These others are not.

People jockey for power and position everywhere, even in the church. As we do the work of building up the faith community, today’s readings say there is no room for jealousy. Move over. Let others who so desire help.

Once, when a very talented singer came to a parish where I was the pastoral leader, he did not offer his talents as a cantor or in the choir. I asked him “Why not?” He told me he had made the offer in a city parish where he had lived previously. The music leader had told him, “We have enough.” You can believe that we did not exclude him in our parish.

The funny thing is that, years later, as I lived in another parish in retirement from full time pastoral leadership, I offered to be a lector. “Oh, Sister,” the coordinator said, “we have enough.”

“Deja vu all over again,” as Yogi Berra once quipped. The jealous guarding of our work in the church detracts from the newness of the future.

The other attitude embedded in the readings is apathy, passivity. The apathetic person says, “I have nothing to offer, nothing to contribute. No talent. No skill. I’ve never done this before. They wouldn’t want me. I’d be of no help. Besides, I don’t want to. Let the others do it. They are enough.”

When either attitude prevails, everyone loses. If we leave the work to others, we deprive the community of our talents, our humor, our zeal for God. If we insist on doing it ourselves (because, after all we know how it works, we know the history and know the people), we deny both our communities and ourselves the gifts of others.

Paul tells us unequivocally, “To each of us the manifestation of the Spirit in given for the common good” (ICor.12.7).

Believe it. We can each enrich the quality of our local faith community by helping and by inviting others to help. Stand up or stand back. There is a time for each attitude, each posture in our lives.

~Sister Joan Sobala

Finding Our Childlike Faith

Dear Friends,

Let the children come to me…whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a little child will not enter it (Luke 18.16 – 17).

Let the little ones come to me; do not prevent the, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these Amen, I say to you, whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it (Mark 10 14 – 15).

Unless you become like a little child, you will not see the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven and whoever receives a child such as this in my name receives me (Matthew 18.3 – 5).      

In today’s Gospel, Jesus calls the children to Himself, and, apparently, they came. The children recognized Jesus for who he was – loveable, attractive and welcoming.

Today people have conflicting views of childhood. On the one hand, our culture has created a rich set of childhood possibilities for children to enjoy, ranging from Mr. Rogers, Disney World, SpongeBob SquarePants, to Barbie dolls, video adventures and games. We somehow believe that a happy childhood is a guarantee of a better future for people. Yet some of these very children, gifted with so much, become demanding teens, full of unfulfilled demands. Self-centeredness is a real danger.

Which child is Jesus talking about? The innocent one or the rebellious one? Actually, neither. The modern fantasies of our day did not exist in Jesus’ time. In drawing the child to himself, Jesus was comparing the adult person’s faith in God to the unspoiled child’s embrace of life.

Childlike faith requires an insatiable curiosity and wonder, questioning authority, scientific knowledge and the nature of things with that overarching question, “WHY?”

Children also have the courage to explore the unknown and confusing. They suffer injuries and embarrassment, yet they plunge on. True heroes. We do well to emulate the courage of the child, as we confront injustice, the powerlessness of the weak and the temptations that urge us to cut corners, or to accept power that dominates.

Endearingly, children put their complete trust in the people who love and care for them (until that trust is violated). They don’t know how to play games with their relationships. They are not calculating. Their commitment is total because trust is unwavering. In the best of all possible worlds, we see and honor all these characteristics in children, and if we are clear-eyed and uncompromising, we come to realize that the Christian faith requires that same unwavering commitment of a child.

 “Cynics have scorned religion for its childishness. They urge religious people to grow up and take responsibility for themselves. Sad to say, too many Christians are childish in their faith – avoiding responsibility and giving up freedom. But Christ does not call us to be childish in our faith. Rather, He calls us to be childlike – to be full of wonder at what God is doing in our midst, courageous and committed as children are.” (found in my notes; author unknown) Will you? Will I? Will we?

~Sister Joan Sobala

The Power of Remembering

Dear Friends,  

During this last week, our media has been full of remembrances of 9/11 – the stories of victims, heroes, hero-victims. We remembered, we prayed and rededicated ourselves to the sacredness of life. 

I want to add still one more story from a distant land. Ireland. In October 2019, I was part of a group of tourists travelling with Father Joe McCaffrey and friends from Nativity Church, Brockport, NY. Michael, the driver of our coach for that whole week, took us one day to a place that was not on the itinerary. 

Up we went, driving on a country road high above Kinsale Harbor, above the waters where the Lusitania had been sunk in 1915. Michael told us the story of the Garden of Remembrance we were about to enter. 

A local woman named Kathleen Murphy had spent 30 years as a nurse in a New York City Hospital. She had also gotten to know Father Michael Judge, the Franciscan chaplain of a firefighters’ station in the city. Many of the wounded, including Father Judge, were brought to the hospital from the Twin Towers. Kathleen was among the dedicated staff who did all they could for the dying and those who would recover. 

Later, Kathleen, herself suffering with cancer, went home to Ireland. She had inherited a parcel of land which she wanted to turn into a remembrance garden for the 343 first responders who had perished on 9/11. Neighbors, family, friends, strangers from across Ireland and beyond, came to help. Three-hundred-forty-three trees were planted, each one dedicated to a particular fallen hero. We walked in silence through the gates into the garden. An appropriate drizzle had begun. Family and friends of the men memorialized there had come since the garden was completed in 2010. They bore and left here photos, dog tags, letters of love, other memorabilia, prayers. (Go back to the photos above.)  

Kathleen Murphy was not at the dedication on September 10, 2011. She had died and now was also memorialized in this garden, so far from New York. 

Later, we who had been there, spoke of the power of remembering and the deep connections between our nations because of the compassion of Kathleen Murphy.  

For all the deliberate destruction terrorists inflict, the tender mercy of God, holding the suffering close, becomes evident in people like Kathleen Murphy. Thank You, Lord, for her and for all whose caring is greater than death. 

~Sister Joan Sobala

All Work is Valuable

Dear Friends,

All of our lives we work. From our infancy to our death, we learn to take in and become all we possibly can about being human. This is major work for which we receive no money, but rather, we receive the human qualities that will inform our lives. For the work of our becoming, we praise you, O God.

On this Sunday of Labor Day weekend, let’s pause to think about the challenge to honor all work, beyond our becoming, and not to resist work as something not worthy of us. For the openness to work, you inspire in us, we praise You, O God.

Let’s look upon work with the eyes of God. God is the first among workers, as we read in Genesis. God worked for seven days, and the rested. We are God-like when we work, when we produce, create, imagine, enlarge and rest from our work. For making our work an imitation of yours, we praise You, O God.

All work is not of equal value, but all work is valuable. Not because of what we earn, although that is necessary, but all work is valuable because it is how we build, nourish, educate, make music and fun with one another. It’s how we sustain the human community. For the work of our minds, hearts and hands, we praise You, O God.

We have a habit of thinking some work is more important than other work. We tend to believe that, if I make more money, my work is more valuable. But consider the truth that the value of work is within us. As a dishwasher in a restaurant, I contribute to the health and safety of customers. As a beach lifeguard, I watch over the play of children, so that they don’t hurt others, deliberately or not. As a member of the military, my work is to serve the peace and not make war. How I think about the work I do contributes to my being more human. For our work which helps, serves, inspires, empowers other, we praise You, O God.

Some work is dangerous: military service, rescue missions, journeys into the unknown. Bravery is given to us when we need it. For our work which builds peace out of hostility and newness out of darkness. We praise You, O God.

The life work of some people is to organize the men and women who labor at essential jobs so they are not taken advantage of. For them, we praise you, O God.

In this world of brutal climate conditions, and brutal regimes which cause people to flee as refugees, there are women and men who answer the call to be first responders. For them, we praise You, O God.

Gracious, God, First Worker of the Universe and Lover of all You have created, as I study and learn from my life of work, help me to ask not “Why does he/she have more than I do?” but rather to ask “What can I be and do with what I have and am?” For the wonder of me, I praise You, O God.

~Sister Joan Sobala

The Laws of Life

Dear Friends,

COVID or not, our youth are off to college. Part of the excitement of college or more precisely, the excitement of moving out of their parents’ home, is that they are free. No more parental obligations. I am free to come and go as I want, when I want. I can wash my hands of all those rules and regulations that made life at home so tiresome.

What college freshmen learn – what we all learned when we went out on our own, is that we are never completely, totally free. Housing complexes have rules, income tax needs to be paid by April 15, roads have speed limits. We escape one set of rules and immediately find ourselves under another set of norms.

Generally, our experience of law is negative. “Don’t.” Religion in particular is viewed as laying on its members multiple negative prescriptions.

So, when we turn to today’s first reading, we are skeptical. Moses maintains that observing the law of God will be life-giving for the Israelites. It would enrich them and free them. Indeed, the Israelites did experience God’s law this way, referring to it as “honey on their lips.”

That idea of law as freeing, as life-giving, takes effort for us to comprehend. The closest we come to law as freeing would be the laws that freed slaves, gave women the right to vote, allowed the freedom marches to pass unharmed from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama to present their grievances to Governor George Wallace, the laws in South Africa that put an end to apartheid.

In today’s Gospel, the Pharisees and scribes accused Jesus’ disciples of being unclean – not observing the ritual washings, referring to the ritual laws of washing hands, kettles, cups, without meaning. Lip service to God.

We know about lip service. That is the result of being a minimalist. I will do the least amount in order to stay in God’s good graces. I’ll get to Mass by homily time and leave after communion. That will fulfill my obligation. I’ll punch in on time at work and take as many coffee breaks as I wish. Just enough to stay on the right side of God and people in charge at work.

But Moses says that God’s invitation to live by the Law is characterized by a freedom of spirit. James says it will be recognized by a sensitivity to people on the periphery of life. Jesus holds up love of God and love of neighbor as the essence of the Law.

Once we have let God’s Word take root in our hearts, we will more likely allow this Word to change us, make us more whole, as individuals and a community, make us other-centered. We move toward being ready to embrace right order and daily living with God’s ways as our guide. In other words, we put law into perspective and make it the servant of life. It is what is in the heart that matters.

~Sister Joan Sobala

Staying on the Journey

Dear Friends,

In the midst of this pandemic that won’t let go and in the ensuing civic climate that is so lacking in mutual cooperation, let’s turn to today’s readings for solace, wisdom and courage to go on.

The Israelites that Joshua leads in the first reading are second generation travelers, born after the exodus began. They were on the journey but without conviction and without commitment. Joshua says to them, “Decide today whom you will serve and be faithful” (Joshua 24.15).

In the Gospel, we have a graphic picture of how the claims and promises of Jesus aroused cynicism, ridicule and contempt. How could this man give us his flesh to eat and his blood to drink? “This sort of talk is hard to endure,” (John 6.60) the people said. They rejected the very thing that could get them through life with its harrowing aspects. Many of them left Jesus’ company.

Perhaps some who left after his sermon on the Eucharist went away sad. They may have wished that Jesus had not said what he said. Now they had to make a choice as the Israelites did in the book of Joshua.

Jesus turned to his close followers: “Do you want to leave me, too?” (John 6.67).

A wonderful thing about Jesus is that He is not insecure. He permits his disciples to make a choice. But even though He left people free to choose, Jesus himself did not back down from what his critics called his “hard sayings.” He didn’t say: “Look. You misunderstand me. I was only speaking in symbols. Let me say it another way.” Jesus meant what he said and said what he meant. And then he waited for his disciples to respond. He waits for us, too.

Some of us may have indeed gone away – gone away from Christ or at least from the Church. Perhaps the fragile bud of or faith, the enthusiasm of our service, our sense of belonging, was crushed. Maybe we found the church forbidding, unyielding, unloving and have walked out the door. Maybe some of us got up one Sunday and didn’t go to church, and after that it was easy not to. Others of us may be like the Israelites, drifting within our church and never really making a choice. Maybe our minds and hearts have gone away, but our feet still take us to church. If we’ve stayed and been alert, we are still not exempt from Jesus’ question, called as we are to deepen in faith with Jesus.

We do not know how it will be for us when we are tempted to go away because God seems to demand so much.

When we can’t seem to find words to respond to the God who asks us, “Will you stay or will you go away?” we can at least borrow the words of Peter to make our own – to say them over and over again until they come to us as naturally as breathing:

                                “Lord, to whom shall we go?

                                Your words are the word of eternal life.

                                We have come to believe and are convinced that

                                You are the Holy One of God” (John 6.68-69).

~Sister Joan Sobala

The Feast of the Assumption

Dear Friends,

The summer games are now over until 2024. Thinking of the Olympics and para-Olympics this last month, we cannot help but savor how people make every effort to perform at a very high level. We were mesmerized by the human body with its sleek beauty, its ability to perform remarkable feats in record time. We have wanted these athletes, with their wonderful spirit and well-disciplined bodies, to succeed, because in some way, they represent all of our bodies and spirits. 

In the context of this feast, you and I and every Olympian are important to God in the same way Mary is – as ourselves in all we are, body, soul and spirit, whether we break any world records or not. 

By celebrating that Mary lives with God in her whole being, this feast reminds us that our human bodies, young and vibrant or marked with signs of aging, are redeemed. In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul addresses an attitude in the people of his time and ours that denied the goodness of the human body – the attitude that focuses only on the salvation of our souls. That idea lingers today, and today’s feast reminds us that it is not true. 

It’s important to be reminded that our bodies are good. This is not obvious. Women’s bodies, men’s bodies, bodies that are beautiful, bodies of color, bodies that don’t seem to work very well, young and energetic bodies, bodies without certain limbs. They are all good.

Part of our Christian heritage is to treasure our bodies. They belong to us and they belong to God and at the second coming, each of us will rise in our own body: individual, recognizable and transformed.

To trivialize, misuse or neglect our bodies is to reject God’s gift of our whole selves. 

Nowhere in the New Testament is the death of Mary, the Mother of God, mentioned, yet believers had an instinct for the truth of Mary’s life, death and beyond. The conviction became well rooted in the faith community that Mary went to God upon her death – whole and entire: body, soul, spirit, memory, thought and consciousness. Mary was not just her womb. All was taken up. All. With Jesus, Mary could expect nothing less. So today, let’s focus our attention on the homecoming of Mary. Let’s let our minds and hearts soar. Let us say thank you to God for her life and eternity.

When the Assumption was finally proclaimed as part of our faith, the psychologist Carl Jung was delighted. He saw this feast as the Church’s statement to the world that our bodies are part of our redeemable and redeemed whole. Mary is the first among all of us.

~Sister Joan Sobala