Tuesday of the Fifth Week of Lent
I continue to be concerned and disturbed by many things that are going on in the world today. The economy continues to improve, but many people remain unemployed. Wars continue to rage and innocent people get caught in the crossfire. It is beginning to feel as though the only news is bad news. At times like these I find myself tempted to despair about the world. What good can possibly come to people in a world like this? Yet I realize that this is wrong. There is still hope for the world. And I believe that this hope is the very work of God in our midst.
Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord
Every one of us can understand what it means to love another human being. We think of our parents, our children, our spouses, our friends. We have all experienced the joys as well as the sacrifices of loving another person. Several of my friends are taking care of elderly parents right now and the physical and emotional toll is overwhelming. As a parent, I know when my child is suffering or helpless or in trouble, I do everything in my power to help them no matter what the personal sacrifice. It seems when you love another person that intensely you do not consider the cost, you do not consider it a choice—you just pull out all the stops! At times this can seem irrational and mysterious and even downright foolish. But deep down inside we know exactly what it is—it is the real “stuff”, the real demonstration of loving another. This is authentic love.
Fifth Sunday of Lent - Year A Scrutinies
Between last weekend and this weekend we have had three funerals. There are many things I could say about each of these funerals. At one of them, the grand-daughter concluded her eulogy by saying what she would say to her grandpa when he was still alive. She said, “See you later, alligator.” Is it not precious that we can say that to each other as bury the people we love? Sometimes I think, though, that sometimes we take the reason for this hope for granted? Why is it that we can say, “See you later,” when people die? What did it take to get us to that hope?
Saturday of the Fourth Week of Lent
In the first reading from the prophet Jeremiah, we hear the emphasis on God as the one who knows all: “I knew their plot because the LORD informed me; at that time you, O LORD, showed me their doings” (Jer 11:18). Even as a prophet—one who speaks for God—however, Jeremiah struggles to understand what God is telling him. This is especially true when Jeremiah’s expectations contrast with what God tells him. Often, too, the word that God expects Jeremiah to deliver contrasts sharply with the expectations of the people to whom he is called to deliver it. This made for some difficult trials for Jeremiah!
Friday of the Fourth Week of Lent
I hope no one else is finding this the case, but for myself, I am finding it difficult to be Catholic these days. This is not because I am thinking about leaving - but friends of mine - friends who are smart and loving and helpful and generous and usually kind but who do not share my faith, keep asking: "Why are you still Catholic?" For some, it is the HHS mandate and the church's teachings on homosexuality that lead them to ask these questions; for others, it is the clash over immigration in Alabama, the rejection of libertarian thought in the pope's latest encyclical, and statements against the death penalty and war that lead them to ask these questions. For still others, it is the apparent contradiction between a God who loves us and has a personal encounter with us with the empirical evidence of science that lead them to ask these questions. And for others, it is the sinfulness of a church hierarchy that has, in the past (hopefully now, always in the past) condoned sexual abuse through its silence.
Thursday of the Fourth Week of Lent
How arrogant we human beings can be. We think we know best and want to do things our own way rather than listen to God, creator of all. We get ourselves into a lot of trouble that way: destroying people, destroying the environment, idolizing wealth, physical beauty, and worldly power. And most of this is done by Christians! We create our own ideas about God and we stop hearing or even listening for the true voice of God.
Wednesday of the Fourth Week of Lent
Have you ever felt truly alone? I mean so alone you felt forsaken. In those moments, the loneliness can seem an all consuming darkness. It is unclear how one has arrived there or how one leaves such a place. In the times that I have felt all alone, I have struggled to trust that the people who say they love me actually do. When I think about it now, it seems almost silly. Could a parent ever stop loving their child, and even if a parent could, would God? I cannot imagine such circumstances. Yet in those dark moments, it is as if our ability to hear, see or recognize love has been disabled. That sense of being forsaken can leave us feeling imprisoned by our emotion.
Tuesday of the Fourth Week of Lent
At this point in the season of Lent, I often find myself wishing for a little bit of encouragement. I find myself asking, why am I going through this? What purpose is it serving? How much longer is it going to be before life can return to ‘normal’? The scriptures for today, especially the gospel reading, provide some of this needed encouragement.
Solemnity of Saint Joseph, husband of the Blessed Virgin Mary
Today we celebrate the feast day of St. Joseph. There are so many things about the life of St. Joseph that are inspiring. As the husband of Mary and the foster father of Jesus, he plays a critical role in the upbringing of Jesus. But what I find most amazing is the way that he lives out his role in salvation history with quiet, simple steadfast faith in God and complete obedience to God’s will for his life.
Fourth Sunday of Lent - Year A Scrutinies
One of the most meaningful parts of my ministry is spending time in conversation with people. On an average I talk to at least five to ten people each week. The conversations revolve around the enormous amounts of PAIN that people carry. And I can identify with every person because I have my own pain. Take for example, talking with a person to whom the doctor has given a limited time to live; think about a family where both the adults are unemployed; think about the person who discovers that the spouse had been secretly unfaithful for months and sometimes years; think about the pain of a family on the verge of breaking up; think about the pain of being misunderstood; think about the pain of emotional, physical and sexual abuse; the pain of addiction and the pain it causes to families; and then there is the pain of sin, guilt and loss of faith. These are all real-life situations that I encounter on a daily basis and I am sure you do too.
Saturday of the Third Week of Lent
The great Catholic fiction writer Flannery O’Connor wrote a short story entitled “Revelation” in which the main character, Mrs. Turpin is a Southern white farmer, who is social, keeps up a nice appearance, and is well-respected. However, a glimpse into Mrs. Turpin’s head shows a different picture:
Friday of the Third Week of Lent
Usually by this time, the end of the third week of Lent, I’ve started to waver a bit in my resolve to abstain from certain foods, to pray for certain things, to give money generously. Particularly I have difficulty with my decision to abstain from certain foods. As with New Years’ Resolutions, I start thinking that eating just a nibble of something or other won’t really hurt, and before you know it, I’m way off the track. Or, even if I have by some chance made it this far without succumbing to temptation, I find myself tired and annoyed with Lent, saying, “Okay, I get the point now. Can we get to Easter already?” But it turns out instead that there are another three long weeks ahead.
Wednesday of the Third Week of Lent
If I had to break down today’s readings into three important quotes, this is what I would choose: “Listen to my voice,” “Harden not your hearts”, and “Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters.”
Wednesday of the Third Week of Lent
What is the first rule you can remember bring taught? For many of us, it was a parent telling us that we had to eat our vegetables. Another rule I recall from my childhood was to be sure to look both ways before crossing the road. Consider the reasons your parents taught you rules. Was it your parent’s intention to torture you or to make your life difficult? No. In fact, they gave us such rules since they loved us and wanted the best for us. Thus, our families tried their best to raise us within the rules of the faith.
Tuesday of the Third Week of Lent
At this point in the year, partly because my work is on the academic calendar and it is the middle of the semester, I usually find myself becoming very busy. It’s easy for me at this time to become stressed and to feel as though I’m not going to get everything done. It makes sense to compare these times of stress to a fire that burns—or maybe smolders—in my life. Lent, too, can feel like a burning fire. It’s not always pleasant to be fasting—in fact it can be painful. But the fire of Lent can also be seen as a fire of purification that is supposed to burn away what is excessive or unwholesome and to prepare us for the feast of Easter.
Monday of the Third Week of Lent
Nearly any time that we meet someone new, we are generally asked three questions. First, “What’s your name?” Second, “What do you do?” And third, “Where are you from?” These questions seem to be how many people define us. And often, these questions are sometimes the standards by which we define ourselves. Considering the great depth and purpose for which God has created us, it’s amazing how we are so quick to limit our identity to just three short answers. (1) Ryan James Mahle; (2) Civil Engineer; and (3) Dayton, Ohio. Is this me? Is this my entire identity? Although very important and appropriate facts about our lives, we’re obviously much more than our name, what we do, or where we’re from. For instance, if I was no longer lived in the state of Ohio, would I still be Ryan Mahle? Of course! God has created us for more than these “three questions.”
Third Sunday of Lent
I have only one niece. And she loves being my only niece. Recently she graduated from medical school and I was telling her how proud I was of her. When she about three years old I would often ask her how much she loved me. When she was mad with me she would hold her two little fingers just a little apart and show me that’s how little she loved me. But this time, she had her arms open wide as she said, “This much.” And I asked her, “Only that much?” She stretched a little more and said, “This much.” This went on for about four or five times until she could not stretch more without hurting. That last time as she said, “This much,” there were tears in her eyes. Of course, I just picked her up and covered her with as much love as possible. That is one time in my life when love – pure, simple, and innocent yet overpowering, overwhelming and indescribable totally overcame me.
Saturday of the Second Week of Lent
Today’s gospel might initially wash over us as the story we’ve heard many, many times of the “Prodigal Son” who lavishly spends his inheritance on pleasures and is left tending the swine and desiring their food. He then returns to his father to beg for mercy.
Friday of the Second Week of Lent
Today's gospel passage (Matthew 21:33-43, 45-46) is one of the most mysterious of Jesus' parables, and also one that has been used, down through the centuries, to justify some of the most awful actions against Jews and others who are not Christian. It's a weird parable simply in terms of action: why is it that the vineyard owner keeps sending out slaves to be harmed? Why does he never call the police, raise up an army, or otherwise seek to punish the tenants? The tenants, too, act in very odd ways. Why are they bothering to beat up the slaves? They knew what the price was for renting the vineyard; their actions are more than a little inexplicable.
Thursday of the Second Week in Lent
Today we have the familiar and challenging gospel passage (Luke 16: 19-31) of the parable of the rich man and Lazarus. I find that it’s easy to judge the rich man in the story and dismiss any personal association with him. After all, I’m not a rich man in purple robes dining on sumptuous feasts. But taking some time to reflect, I have to ask myself: Do I live selfishly, ignoring the needs of the poor? In my own pursuit of comfort, clothes to look good in, the pleasure of good food and a nice home, am I blind to those in need? Yes, we have some awareness of the homeless and those living in poverty, but what about the poor people in China and developing countries that are working for very little pay, often in unsafe or unhealthy working conditions to make the clothes we wear and the trinkets we buy? “More for less” the stores convince us, but at what cost? What injustices am I benefitting from?