3rd Sunday of Advent
Cycle A
Is 35:1-6a,10
Ps 146:6-7,8-9,9-10
Jas 5:7-10
Mt 11:2-11
Last Thursday we celebrated the feast of St. Juan Diego, canonized by Pope John Paul II in 2002. Juan Diego had been declared Venerable in 1987. Under normal circumstances, for someone to be beatified there must be a miracle that has been thoroughly studied and approved by the Congregation for Causes and Saints and accepted by the Holy Father. In the case of Juan Diego, John Paul II decided to beatify him without the approved miracle. There was a miracle for his canonization, however. And it is quite a story.
Juan Jose Barragan Silva, of Mexico City, had been a drug addict since he was a teenager. He and his mother had been abandoned by his father when Juan Jose was young. On May 3rd, 1990 Juan Jose got drunk and high on marijuana with a friend, then went home and started to cut himself on the head with a knife. His mother, Esperanza, tried to get the knife away but failed. She implored him to stop abusing himself and give up the alcohol and pot. He shouted that he didn’t want to live any more. Juan Jose threw himself off the balcony of their third floor apartment.
In that moment, Esperanza had a “flash”. Knowing that Pope John Paul was to be in Mexico for the beatification of Juan Diego, she called on Juan Diego to intercede for her son. The hope of a mother springs eternal.
Juan Jose fell about 30 feet and landed on his head on the concrete pavement. He was bleeding heavily from the mouth, nose and ears. They covered him, thinking he was dead. He suddenly sat up, rose and went to the stairs leading to his apartment. On meeting his mother coming down the stairs he asked for her forgiveness. They embraced and remained that way for another ten minutes or so before the ambulance came.
The prognosis was very pessimistic. The doctor later explained that it was incomprehensible that he was still alive. They did tests and found that he had fractured his skull, had a large hemotoma that extended from the front of his skull to the back of his neck, lacerations of the neck muscles, intracranial bleeding and air in his cranial cavity. He was given the last rites. Yet he continued to live.
The first four days he was sedated. On the fifth, doctors found that his pupils were no longer fixed and that he could move his arms and legs. On the sixth day he was released from the ICU to a regular ward. On the seventh day his feeding tube was removed. He was released on the tenth day after the fall. Subsequent tests by neurologists and other specialists showed a total recovery. Juan Jose also gave up his drug habit and started school.
It seems that his change of condition came on 6 May at the very time John Paul II was beatifying Juan Diego. The decree concerning this miracle was promulgated on 20 December 2001. Pope John Paul II canonized St. Juan Diego on July 31, 2002.
If we do not believe in miracles, we do not ask for them. If we do not ask for them, they will not be granted. Juan Jose’s mother never gave up hope for him. Even through his substance abuse and attempted suicide, she never gave up hope for her son. Her name was Esperanza, the Spanish word for hope.
Most of us never have to live through such a dramatic situation as Esperanza. Most of us don’t have to deal with such despair. But many of us do. When we find ourselves in desperate situations in life, we have a choice to make. Either we can cling to hope, however feeble it may be, or we can give into despair. There’re really no other choices. We can either turn our trust to God, or we can abandon him and abandon hope.
The ancient Israelites had their share of hopeless situations. The prophet Isaiah, who we hear from in today’s first reading, was writing to a people who were about to be besieged and wiped out by the Assyrian army. The king, Hezekiah, put his trust in an alliance with the Egyptians. Isaiah enjoined him to trust in the Lord and be strong instead. He writes today:
Strengthen the hands that are feeble,
make firm the knees that are weak,
say to those whose hearts are frightened:
Be strong, fear not!
Here is your God,
he comes with vindication;
with divine recompense
he comes to save you.
Hezekiah didn’t listen. And the northern kingdom of Israel was destroyed. The Israelites had a way of ignoring God’s prophets and putting themselves in hopeless situations. But the prophets always gave them a message of hope. Isaiah’s message of hope was fulfilled in today’s gospel. Jesus doesn’t come right out and tell John the Baptist that he is the Messiah. Instead he points to Isaiah’s promise of hope made seven hundred years earlier. He gave John proof of God’s faithfulness by his actions, not just with words.
We celebrate another story of hope today, the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe.
The opening of the New World by the Spanish brought with it both fortune-seekers and preachers wanting to convert the native populations to the Christian faith, by force, if necessary. Many of the natives were treated very cruelly by their conquerors. On December 12, 1531, Our Lady of Guadalupe appeared and spoke tenderly to another one of her sons, Juan Diego:
“Hear and let it penetrate into your heart, my dear little son. Let nothing discourage you, nothing depress you. Let nothing alter your heart or your countenance. Also do not fear any illness or vexation, anxiety or pain. Am I not here who am your mother? Are you not under my shadow and protection? Am I not your fountain of life? Are you not in the folds of my mantle, in the crossing of my arms? Is there anything else that you need?”
One would be hard pressed to find more comforting words to someone in despair; they are positively riveting given their intimate connection with the miraculous image of Mary imprinted on Juan Diego’s tilma, the same image that hangs on the wall of this church.
The power of Mary’s reassuring words is magnified by the fact that they came the day after Juan Diego did not follow through with his promise to meet Mary again at the appointed time and place. He had spent that day tending to his gravely sick uncle. Knowing that he just blew off the Queen of Heaven, though, he decided to take a shortcut to his destination the next day in order to avoid her. Haven’t we all, knowing our own shortcomings, or facing the hardships and demands that come with faith in Christ, taken shortcuts in one form or another? He was nonetheless greeted by Our Lady and heard these soothing words – even after she had explicitly told him earlier: “Do not forget me.”
The Blessed Mother understands our humanity and stands ready to shower us with her maternal love. Our Lady said she came to give all her love and protection to the people, to hear their weeping, and “alleviate all their multiple sufferings.” There could scarcely be a more inviting and urgent message for an anxious, secular age – particularly one that has forgotten what matters most.
So let us rejoice on this Gaudete Sunday as we light the rose colored candle of hope. For no matter how unfaithful we are to God, God will always be faithful to us.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Burglar Alarm
1st Sunday of Advent
Cycle A
We have a burglar alarm at our house. It came with the house. We pay a monthly fee to have it. It’s a real fancy one that not only has a siren but has someone sitting at a computer screen a thousand miles away monitoring it so that if it goes off they call the cops or the fire department. And we never turn it on. I wouldn’t know how to if I wanted to. The little green light on the control panel by the door is always on, but I don’t know how to program it and if it goes off I don’t know how to turn it off.
We figured it would come in handy because of all the expensive tools I’ve got in the shop. And we did turn it on the first month or two after we moved in. It has hundreds of cool functions, but all we learned to do was turn it on and off. And it soon became a hassle remembering to activate it and deactivate it, and besides, we live in Oakley, where it’s quiet and peaceful and all the neighbors look out for each other. I’ve got all the right tools to be prepared for a break-in, but they’re really useless because I don’t know how to use them. And if I did, I probably wouldn’t anyway. We’ve fallen into a false sense of security because we have never been broken into.
It’s the first Sunday of Advent. New Years Day for us Catholics. Today we begin the new liturgical year, and as you can see, the colors have changed to purple from green, we have our Advent wreath all set up and lit, and the gospel readings are from Matthew rather than from Luke. The word Advent means coming, as in the coming of an event that has been anticipated.
We celebrate Advent when we do because we are anticipating the coming of a wonderful event at the same time we are remembering another wonderful event. We look forward to the time when Jesus comes again in his glory, and we celebrate his birth at Christmas, his first coming 2000 years ago. It is fitting that we link the two, because together they tell the story of the promise Jesus made to us that we will see him again just as he was seen so long ago.
But Advent is all about burglar alarms.
Jesus tells us throughout Advent to be prepared. Be ready, because you never know when he will come again. He gave us a heads-up about what is to happen. Jesus left us all the tools. We have the Church to back us up. We have tradition and scripture. He gave us the burglar alarm; he showed us how it works and how to turn it on. It’s got hundreds of cool functions, like the sacraments and devotions and saints and stuff. But we don’t use them, do we? We just turn it on and off sometimes, when we need it. We’re good people. We don’t need to worry, do we? Nothing bad’s going to happen. We have fallen into a false sense of security because it’s been so long since he left and we’ve grown weary of waiting.
We talk a lot about Jesus’ first coming, and every Sunday we hear stories about that time in the gospels. At every Mass our prayers speak of the hope we have in his coming again. What lies beneath the surface of both of these events is Jesus’ third coming, where he enters into our lives, or tries to, every day. Are we prepared to welcome Jesus when he knocks at our door today? Are we really ready?
Have you ever thought about what you’d do if you met Jesus face to face? Have you ever heard the song I Can Only Imagine by the group Mercyme? The refrain goes:
Surrounded by Your glory, what will my heart feel
Will I dance for you Jesus or in honor of you be still
Will I stand in your presence or to my knees will I fall
Will I sing hallelujah, will I be able to speak at all
I can only imagine
We spend a lot of time thinking of the afterlife, of what it will be like in heaven. But I think we often forget that Jesus is here acting in our lives every day. That third coming is the only thing we can control. It’s the only coming we can experience now.
Let’s change the lyrics of that song a bit.
Surrounded by Your glory, O what my heart feels
I dance for you Jesus and in honor of you be still
I stand in your presence and to my knees I fall
I sing hallelujah, and am unable to speak at all
I don’t have to imagine
If you knew you were to have Jesus over to dinner tomorrow night, how would you prepare? Not just all the details about the decorations and the menu. How would you prepare yourself mentally and spiritually? How would you dress? Who would you tell? Would you invite your friends to join you or would you want Jesus all to yourself? Would you think yourself worthy or unworthy? Would you go to confession first? Would you be nervous or would you be comfortable welcoming a close friend?
Well, here we are. Jesus has come to dinner.
Cycle A
We have a burglar alarm at our house. It came with the house. We pay a monthly fee to have it. It’s a real fancy one that not only has a siren but has someone sitting at a computer screen a thousand miles away monitoring it so that if it goes off they call the cops or the fire department. And we never turn it on. I wouldn’t know how to if I wanted to. The little green light on the control panel by the door is always on, but I don’t know how to program it and if it goes off I don’t know how to turn it off.
We figured it would come in handy because of all the expensive tools I’ve got in the shop. And we did turn it on the first month or two after we moved in. It has hundreds of cool functions, but all we learned to do was turn it on and off. And it soon became a hassle remembering to activate it and deactivate it, and besides, we live in Oakley, where it’s quiet and peaceful and all the neighbors look out for each other. I’ve got all the right tools to be prepared for a break-in, but they’re really useless because I don’t know how to use them. And if I did, I probably wouldn’t anyway. We’ve fallen into a false sense of security because we have never been broken into.
It’s the first Sunday of Advent. New Years Day for us Catholics. Today we begin the new liturgical year, and as you can see, the colors have changed to purple from green, we have our Advent wreath all set up and lit, and the gospel readings are from Matthew rather than from Luke. The word Advent means coming, as in the coming of an event that has been anticipated.
We celebrate Advent when we do because we are anticipating the coming of a wonderful event at the same time we are remembering another wonderful event. We look forward to the time when Jesus comes again in his glory, and we celebrate his birth at Christmas, his first coming 2000 years ago. It is fitting that we link the two, because together they tell the story of the promise Jesus made to us that we will see him again just as he was seen so long ago.
But Advent is all about burglar alarms.
Jesus tells us throughout Advent to be prepared. Be ready, because you never know when he will come again. He gave us a heads-up about what is to happen. Jesus left us all the tools. We have the Church to back us up. We have tradition and scripture. He gave us the burglar alarm; he showed us how it works and how to turn it on. It’s got hundreds of cool functions, like the sacraments and devotions and saints and stuff. But we don’t use them, do we? We just turn it on and off sometimes, when we need it. We’re good people. We don’t need to worry, do we? Nothing bad’s going to happen. We have fallen into a false sense of security because it’s been so long since he left and we’ve grown weary of waiting.
We talk a lot about Jesus’ first coming, and every Sunday we hear stories about that time in the gospels. At every Mass our prayers speak of the hope we have in his coming again. What lies beneath the surface of both of these events is Jesus’ third coming, where he enters into our lives, or tries to, every day. Are we prepared to welcome Jesus when he knocks at our door today? Are we really ready?
Have you ever thought about what you’d do if you met Jesus face to face? Have you ever heard the song I Can Only Imagine by the group Mercyme? The refrain goes:
Surrounded by Your glory, what will my heart feel
Will I dance for you Jesus or in honor of you be still
Will I stand in your presence or to my knees will I fall
Will I sing hallelujah, will I be able to speak at all
I can only imagine
We spend a lot of time thinking of the afterlife, of what it will be like in heaven. But I think we often forget that Jesus is here acting in our lives every day. That third coming is the only thing we can control. It’s the only coming we can experience now.
Let’s change the lyrics of that song a bit.
Surrounded by Your glory, O what my heart feels
I dance for you Jesus and in honor of you be still
I stand in your presence and to my knees I fall
I sing hallelujah, and am unable to speak at all
I don’t have to imagine
If you knew you were to have Jesus over to dinner tomorrow night, how would you prepare? Not just all the details about the decorations and the menu. How would you prepare yourself mentally and spiritually? How would you dress? Who would you tell? Would you invite your friends to join you or would you want Jesus all to yourself? Would you think yourself worthy or unworthy? Would you go to confession first? Would you be nervous or would you be comfortable welcoming a close friend?
Well, here we are. Jesus has come to dinner.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Mercy Me
30th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Cycle C
Sir 35: 12-14,16-18
2 Tim 4:6-8, 16-18
Lk 18:9-14
This week we complete St. Luke’s trilogy of stories on prayer. Two weeks ago we heard the story of the ten lepers who were cured by Jesus. Only one returned to give thanks to God. We learned that it is necessary to offer prayers of thanksgiving for all the gifts God has given us. Last week we heard the parable of the corrupt judge, and learned that we must be persistent when we ask God to give us what we need. Today we learn about probably the most important form of prayer of all, praying for forgiveness. Praying for forgiveness is most important because unless we receive forgiveness, we really can’t ask God for what we need and cannot thank him for his gifts to us. Because it is through God’s mercy that he gives us the ability to ask and the ability to offer thanks.
It’s a lot like with our own relationships. If you are on the outs with a friend or relative, you shut down communication with them. You avoid being with them. You begin to think bitter thoughts about them, and you erect barriers between you. You wouldn’t dream of asking them for anything or thanking them for anything, because the relationship is broken. In order for the relationship to be healed there must be mercy. You must show mercy to them and vice versa. Only when that step is made can the barriers come down and you can resume a healthy, happy relationship.
Think of how that tax collector must have felt. His chosen profession and lifestyle had cut him off from his countrymen and from God. Everyone thought of him as a sinner and a traitor because he collaborated with the Romans in cheating people. He must have been torn in two. On the one hand he enjoyed all the things he had because of his ill-gotten wealth. But on the other hand he must have hated himself for betraying his people and his own conscience. That is why he crept into the temple area quietly and couldn’t even raise his eyes to heaven in prayer. But he knew his real situation and his true problem. He didn’t try to justify himself to God. All he did was throw himself on God’s mercy. Who knows, maybe he left there with a change of heart. He had taken that first step of conversion. His prayer left the door open for change.
The Pharisee, on the other hand, thought he had it all figured out. He couldn’t see how he was cutting himself off from those around him just as much as the tax collector was. He was building barriers to others and to God just as much as the tax collector was. The Pharisee did try to justify himself, and in doing so was deceiving himself. We can guess that he left the temple not open to conversion but more firmly fixed in his arrogance. He asked for no mercy because he didn’t recognize his need for it, and so he received none. He was not praying to God, he was praying to himself. His prayer had no value because it had no power to change him.
Why do we pray? Why do we feel the need to communicate with God? God doesn’t need our words or thoughts to know what’s in our hearts. God knows who we are and what we need even before we do. But I think that God likes to hear us say it. Why do we feel the need to tell those we love that we love them? And why do we like to hear them tell us they love us? We know they do, but we still like to hear it. We need reassurance that we are loved.
We pray to God because we need to say it and we need to believe that he likes to hear it. When we love someone it’s natural to communicate with them. We need to know that we’re ok with God. We need to know that we have ultimate value, that we are accepted by our creator, even though we don’t really deserve it. We need to have that hope and know that there’s a purpose to life, with all its joys and sufferings. It is through our prayer that we keep our relationship with God in focus.
But does God answer prayers? Ah, the great question. When we ask it we are usually referring to prayers of petition. We ask God for something and then sit back and wait to see if we get it. Sometimes we do get what we ask for, but rarely does God answer us boldly and loudly, so we can easily recognize it. Rarely do we get that miracle we’ve been hoping for. But then, we never got that pony we asked our parents for for Christmas, did we? And I think we oftentimes make excuses for not getting what we asked for. “God knows best, and I guess I really didn’t need it. So I guess I’ll try to word it a bit differently next time.” Or, we look back and try hard to see how God really did answer our prayers. “Yeah, that was it, right there. It really did work out ok in the end, even if it wasn’t the way I expected it or planned it.” We desperately need to believe that God hears us.
But what about those prayers of hopelessness when we are enveloped in deep suffering and poverty of body and spirit? When we are not asking for things but just for an end to our pain? What about the millions of people who go to bed hungry every night, who aren’t asking for a better job or a new car but just to survive? Sometimes their prayers are never answered with the alleviation of their suffering. Does that mean they weren’t answered? Does that mean that God has abandoned them?
St. Paul experienced this. Many times he prayed that he be relieved of an unknown physical ailment, only to get the answer that sorry, he had to put up with it. He came to the conclusion that it was only when he was weak and had to rely totally on God that he was actually stronger. But that still didn’t make him feel any better. And today we heard that even after an entire career of bringing the Good News to people the world over, he was still alone and abandoned by them in his time of need. Just like Jesus. But even when he looked back on his life’s race and saw all the times he’d stumbled and fell, he still kept his eyes on the finish line. He never lost hope.
God does not guarantee that when we ask for things from Him we will necessarily get what we request. He only guarantees that we will receive His mercy and through that mercy, hope. Prayer is always answered with mercy.
And mercy is all about hope. Can you imagine what the world would be like if God were not merciful towards us? What if he left us to our own devices in our evil and sinfulness? Without God’s mercy there would be no good on the earth. Because we sin we need to ask for and receive forgiveness. If God in his mercy does not forgive us we are doomed to destroy ourselves. Without the possibility of forgiveness we would go insane. Without God’s mercy we would have no hope. Because the opposite of mercy is despair.
But what is mercy? True mercy is not a dominance and submission thing, where a superior is judging us and cuts us a break out of the goodness of his heart. Mercy is treating people as they should be treated just because of who they are, children of God. Mercy is acknowledging the inherent dignity of every human person, and then giving everyone what they need to live as true persons.
True mercy actually requires the one giving it to humble himself or herself. It is when another lowers himself to our level and accepts us as equals. Think of the greatest act of mercy in all history. God himself humbled himself to become one of us, and to die for us out of mercy for us.
And true mercy also requires the one who receives it to accept it with humility. Not in humiliation, but with an understanding that even though our actions require forgiveness, we still have great value. Mercy is accepting our true place in the scheme of things and knowing what our true relationship is with our creator. Have mercy on us sinners. We need to accept that we are only the creatures, and we don’t have all the answers. Sometimes it all makes sense and oftentimes it doesn’t. But that doesn’t mean we give up in frustration.
Because we wait with joyful hope for the coming of our savior, Jesus Christ.
Cycle C
Sir 35: 12-14,16-18
2 Tim 4:6-8, 16-18
Lk 18:9-14
This week we complete St. Luke’s trilogy of stories on prayer. Two weeks ago we heard the story of the ten lepers who were cured by Jesus. Only one returned to give thanks to God. We learned that it is necessary to offer prayers of thanksgiving for all the gifts God has given us. Last week we heard the parable of the corrupt judge, and learned that we must be persistent when we ask God to give us what we need. Today we learn about probably the most important form of prayer of all, praying for forgiveness. Praying for forgiveness is most important because unless we receive forgiveness, we really can’t ask God for what we need and cannot thank him for his gifts to us. Because it is through God’s mercy that he gives us the ability to ask and the ability to offer thanks.
It’s a lot like with our own relationships. If you are on the outs with a friend or relative, you shut down communication with them. You avoid being with them. You begin to think bitter thoughts about them, and you erect barriers between you. You wouldn’t dream of asking them for anything or thanking them for anything, because the relationship is broken. In order for the relationship to be healed there must be mercy. You must show mercy to them and vice versa. Only when that step is made can the barriers come down and you can resume a healthy, happy relationship.
Think of how that tax collector must have felt. His chosen profession and lifestyle had cut him off from his countrymen and from God. Everyone thought of him as a sinner and a traitor because he collaborated with the Romans in cheating people. He must have been torn in two. On the one hand he enjoyed all the things he had because of his ill-gotten wealth. But on the other hand he must have hated himself for betraying his people and his own conscience. That is why he crept into the temple area quietly and couldn’t even raise his eyes to heaven in prayer. But he knew his real situation and his true problem. He didn’t try to justify himself to God. All he did was throw himself on God’s mercy. Who knows, maybe he left there with a change of heart. He had taken that first step of conversion. His prayer left the door open for change.
The Pharisee, on the other hand, thought he had it all figured out. He couldn’t see how he was cutting himself off from those around him just as much as the tax collector was. He was building barriers to others and to God just as much as the tax collector was. The Pharisee did try to justify himself, and in doing so was deceiving himself. We can guess that he left the temple not open to conversion but more firmly fixed in his arrogance. He asked for no mercy because he didn’t recognize his need for it, and so he received none. He was not praying to God, he was praying to himself. His prayer had no value because it had no power to change him.
Why do we pray? Why do we feel the need to communicate with God? God doesn’t need our words or thoughts to know what’s in our hearts. God knows who we are and what we need even before we do. But I think that God likes to hear us say it. Why do we feel the need to tell those we love that we love them? And why do we like to hear them tell us they love us? We know they do, but we still like to hear it. We need reassurance that we are loved.
We pray to God because we need to say it and we need to believe that he likes to hear it. When we love someone it’s natural to communicate with them. We need to know that we’re ok with God. We need to know that we have ultimate value, that we are accepted by our creator, even though we don’t really deserve it. We need to have that hope and know that there’s a purpose to life, with all its joys and sufferings. It is through our prayer that we keep our relationship with God in focus.
But does God answer prayers? Ah, the great question. When we ask it we are usually referring to prayers of petition. We ask God for something and then sit back and wait to see if we get it. Sometimes we do get what we ask for, but rarely does God answer us boldly and loudly, so we can easily recognize it. Rarely do we get that miracle we’ve been hoping for. But then, we never got that pony we asked our parents for for Christmas, did we? And I think we oftentimes make excuses for not getting what we asked for. “God knows best, and I guess I really didn’t need it. So I guess I’ll try to word it a bit differently next time.” Or, we look back and try hard to see how God really did answer our prayers. “Yeah, that was it, right there. It really did work out ok in the end, even if it wasn’t the way I expected it or planned it.” We desperately need to believe that God hears us.
But what about those prayers of hopelessness when we are enveloped in deep suffering and poverty of body and spirit? When we are not asking for things but just for an end to our pain? What about the millions of people who go to bed hungry every night, who aren’t asking for a better job or a new car but just to survive? Sometimes their prayers are never answered with the alleviation of their suffering. Does that mean they weren’t answered? Does that mean that God has abandoned them?
St. Paul experienced this. Many times he prayed that he be relieved of an unknown physical ailment, only to get the answer that sorry, he had to put up with it. He came to the conclusion that it was only when he was weak and had to rely totally on God that he was actually stronger. But that still didn’t make him feel any better. And today we heard that even after an entire career of bringing the Good News to people the world over, he was still alone and abandoned by them in his time of need. Just like Jesus. But even when he looked back on his life’s race and saw all the times he’d stumbled and fell, he still kept his eyes on the finish line. He never lost hope.
God does not guarantee that when we ask for things from Him we will necessarily get what we request. He only guarantees that we will receive His mercy and through that mercy, hope. Prayer is always answered with mercy.
And mercy is all about hope. Can you imagine what the world would be like if God were not merciful towards us? What if he left us to our own devices in our evil and sinfulness? Without God’s mercy there would be no good on the earth. Because we sin we need to ask for and receive forgiveness. If God in his mercy does not forgive us we are doomed to destroy ourselves. Without the possibility of forgiveness we would go insane. Without God’s mercy we would have no hope. Because the opposite of mercy is despair.
But what is mercy? True mercy is not a dominance and submission thing, where a superior is judging us and cuts us a break out of the goodness of his heart. Mercy is treating people as they should be treated just because of who they are, children of God. Mercy is acknowledging the inherent dignity of every human person, and then giving everyone what they need to live as true persons.
True mercy actually requires the one giving it to humble himself or herself. It is when another lowers himself to our level and accepts us as equals. Think of the greatest act of mercy in all history. God himself humbled himself to become one of us, and to die for us out of mercy for us.
And true mercy also requires the one who receives it to accept it with humility. Not in humiliation, but with an understanding that even though our actions require forgiveness, we still have great value. Mercy is accepting our true place in the scheme of things and knowing what our true relationship is with our creator. Have mercy on us sinners. We need to accept that we are only the creatures, and we don’t have all the answers. Sometimes it all makes sense and oftentimes it doesn’t. But that doesn’t mean we give up in frustration.
Because we wait with joyful hope for the coming of our savior, Jesus Christ.
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