Jesus ascends to heaven on no ordinary cloud from the sky but on the magnificent cloud of God's glory. Many times throughout salvation history God has manifested his divine presence to Israel in the form of a cloud. It was in a cloud of glory that God's presence filled the sanctuary in the desert, filled the Temple in Jerusalem, and overshadowed Christ during his transfiguration. Now that same cloud of glory lifts Jesus up and brings him to heaven in triumphant glory (see 1 Tm 3:16).

Christ's return to the Father on a cloud also signals the fulfillment of an important prophecy from the Old Testament. The prophet Daniel had a vision of a "son of man"figure who appeared victorious over his enemies and was carried to God on the clouds of heaven in order to be given a worldwide kingdom that would last forever.

With Christ being lifted into heaven on a cloud, the Ascension scene represents a fulfillment of Daniel's prophecy. Jesus is the "son of man" who in his exaltation is presented before God the Father and is given an everlasting kingdom that will reign over all nations (see Catechism of the Catholic Church 664). As such, Christ's ascension may provide a further response to the apostles' question, "When will the kingdom be restored to Israel?" By rising to the Father on a cloud of glory, Jesus confirms that he is the Son of Man who has emerged victorious and that the restored kingdom Daniel envisioned has finally arrived. It is now up to the apostles to extend this kingdom to the ends of the earth.

Like the first apostles, we, too, share in the mission of spreading Christ's kingdom in the world today. Whether a teacher in a classroom, a businessman in the workplace, a college student on campus, or a mother raising children in the home, all Christians play a crucial role in helping build the kingdom in the specific areas where God has called them to serve. By bringing the extraordinary witness of Christian truth, virtue, and love into our ordinary, daily endeavors, we can help transform our culture into the kingdom of the risen and ascended Christ.

The Creed--continued

The Creed tells us Jesus "ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father."

Christian liturgical tradition has long associated Psalm 68:18-20 with the triumphal entry of Christ into heaven at the Ascension. The original hymn is equally triumphal and probably accompanied a liturgical celebration in which the Ark of the Covenant was brought in procession to the Temple, recalling the Exodus of Israel, the conquest of Canaan, and the establishment of the nation in the land by the power of God.

It is only fitting, therefore, that as Christ entered the heavenly temple of the new Jerusalem to sit in greater glory than David or Solomon, the Church should see the psalm as an anticipation of him. In the Ascension, the day has dawned when man is now present in heaven in the person of the Son of Man, Christ Jesus. Because he is already there, we who are in him are there as well, because God, "who is rich in mercy, because of the great love he had for us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, brought us to life with Christ (by grace you have been saved), raised us up with him, and seated us with him in the heavens in Christ Jesus" (Eph 2:4-6).

In the rosary, the glorious mystery of the Ascension is traditionally associated with prayer for the virtue of hope. Hope is oriented not so much toward the future as toward eternity and the fact that the same God we have known and know now is not going to abandon us. It is curious that this faith that Jesus will not abandon us is associated with the moment in the Gospel where Jesus leaves us.

But, as Luke makes clear, Jesus is not really leaving. For his Gospel only tells us of what Jesus "began" to do and teach (Acts 1:1). His entire earthly ministry is only the spark. The Church, filled with his Spirit, is the fire, and he is now to continue his work in a way more intimate with us than it was during his earthly ministry. That is why he himself said, "But now I am going to the one who sent me, and not one of you asks me, 'Where are you going?' But because I told you this, grief has filled your hearts. But I tell you the truth, it is better for you that I go. For if I do not go, the Advocate will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you" On 16:5-7).

Biblically, to be seated is to be in repose—not asleep, not watching TV, not "doing nothing," but secure in one's dominion. In antiquity, judges were seated. So were monarchs when they were enthroned. To say that Jesus is "seated" is to say he now reigns.

To be sure, there is still work to be done, but it is in the nature of "mop up," not in "deciding the battle." The worst thing that could ever have happened in the universe has already happened—and God has turned it into the best thing. God has already been killed. Compared to that, everything is pretty small beer. But the death of God on the Cross has led to the life of the world. Jesus has entered on his reign. He is enthroned as King at the Father's right hand—now.

The "right hand" was the "good" hand in antiquity—the hand that pours out blessing; the hand that holds the scepter; the hand that works, acts, fights. The hand is the locus of action. We do not theorize with our hands; we act with them. We do things. Jesus, seated at the right hand of the Father, does things. And he empowers us to do things, too—by his Spirit.

Thus, when Peter appeals to the crowd at Pentecost, he doesn't tell them God has poured out a concept or an idea. He has poured out that which you see and hear (see Acts 2:33). Catholic faith is still the same today. To be sure, we walk by faith and not by sight. But the fruit of our faith is still visible in the incarnate signs and acts of love we bear to the world. All of these are poured out on us from Jesus, seated at the right hand of God the Father.

Question of the Week Lent 4

Fourth Sunday of Lent

Source of light

Reading I             1 Samuel 16:1b, 6-7, 10-13a (Samuel anoints David)

Reading II           Ephesians 5:8-14 (duty to live in the light)

Gospel                  John 9:1-41 (the man born blind)

Key Passage       For once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light. Live as Children of     light—for the fruit of the light is found in all that is good and right and true. (Ephesians 5:8–9)

Adult:  

What are you doing in your life right now to move toward light rather than darkness?

Child:   

How can you let the light of your faith in Jesus shine for others to see?

Third Sunday of Lent A

"We Will Find Wellsprings
for Our Deepest Thirst "
© Jan Richardson

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Yes, we were all taught not to talk to strangers.

And we were probably taught, implicitly, that there were some people we were just not supposed to associate with.

Two thousand years ago, Jews were not supposed to speak with Samaritans.

And they were certainly not supposed to eat with them, or drink with them, or especially drink after them!

That would be more than just not right.

It would be unclean; it would be disgusting.

For the proper Jewish man, to drink with a Samaritan would be like one of us drinking from the bottle as a wino on the street in a bad section of town. Disgusting.

Today, Americans are not supposed to speak with Iranians.

Maybe North Americans are not talking with Africans.

At one time, Northern Ireland was not supposed to speak with Southern Ireland.

North Atlanta is not supposed to speak with South Atlanta.

Maybe public schools are not supposed to speak with private schools. Maybe Democrats are not supposed to speak with Republicans.

Well, that's not the way that Jesus considered it.

In that culture, men were not even supposed to mingle with women.

Of course, I don't mean co-mingle!

I mean that men and women did not share the common exchanges of daily commerce and need.

But Jesus broke those rules. Jesus respected women. Jesus respected women so much that he was able to share his ordinary need with a woman; he shared his thirst.

Living water? What is this living water? Isn't all water living?

No, it's not all living.

All of us have seen the opposite at some time or another.

The opposite of living water is dead water. Some water is absolutely dead.

Some water is dead, and yet folks continue to drink it.

Do you know what dead water is?

Dead water is the same old television show every night.

Dead water is the same old argument you get into every day. Dead water is that little habit you persist in nourishing, that habit which is small in itself, but which will kill you one day.

Dead water is what may have nourished somebody long ago, but it sure does not give you joy and vigor today.

Dead water is that water you give for yourself which still leaves you crying out for more.

Yes! The Samaritan woman wants this water now! She knows exactly what Jesus means! Sir, give me this water!

"I have no husband."

Ah! The woman has no husband!

Exactly. She has used up husbands the way each of us uses up unsatisfactory water.

We keep trying all these ways to cure our souls.

We try this self-help book.

We try that therapist. We try this drug. We try that drink. We try this husband. We try that wife.

But, ultimately, we have no husband. Jesus knows that we have no husband. Jesus knows that our searching has been fruitless. Our well is dry.

Truth is willing to acknowledge that everyone gets thirsty.

No matter whether you are Jew or Samaritan, or Gentile, or Greek, or American, or Yankee or Southerner.

No matter whether you are a man or a woman, or anything in between, everyone gets thirsty. That is the truth.

Are you willing to worship God with the truth of who you are? If you can worship God in truth, you are in the Spirit.

"I am that living water. I am that Spirit. I am that Truth, that way, that life." And Jesus speaks to us.

Jesus is speaking to us, right now, if we have ears to hear, right now, in this place, in this moment, at this well.

Jesus is at the local watering hole, if we have ears to hear spirit and truth. Jesus is at the local coffee shop, at our favorite restaurant.

Wherever you hear spirit and truth, you are close to hearing Jesus.

30 They left the city and were on their way to him.

Somehow, the townspeople were convinced! T

hey realized immediately, from the woman that something big had happened.

 Do you know what convinced them?

 It was the woman's testimony, to be sure.

She had a testimony now, a witness.

People believe testimonies because people recognize truth.

People are convinced by what they feel, in their gut, is the truth.

But the people were also convinced by her question! That's how she ended her testimony.

"He cannot be the Messiah, can he?"

Honey, you better believe he is the Messiah!

This gospel reading is made complete only if we-the listeners-take hold of the woman's testimony and make it our own.

Salvation cannot be about what others say.

This is what the New Evangelization you have been hearing about is all about.

Salvation as to be about what has happened to us.

Let this Jesus of Spirit and Truth take hold of you today.

This is truly the Savior of the world.

Third Sunday of Lent

Source of strength

Reading I             Exodus 17:3-7 (water from the rock)

Reading II           Romans 5:1-2, 5-8 (faith, hope, and love)

Gospel                  John 4:5-42 (the Samaritan woman at the well)

Key Passage       Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” (John 4:13–14)

Adult:  

Where have you found a source of “living water” for your own journey of faith?

Child:  

Name some times when your belief in Jesus helped make you stronger.

Second Sunday of Lent A

March 13, 2014

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Matthew, today, gives us an important challenge: 

Listen to him!

So spoke the voice from out of the cloud that overshadowed Peter, James and John on the mount of the transfiguration.

Each of the three men had experienced something extraordinary in the presence of Jesus.

Each also probably had an idea and a plan as to how things should unfold afterwards.

Acting as their spokesman, Peter wanted to arrange that the extraordinariness of the moment would endure.

"Let's pitch some tents and savor the glory!"

But the voice had other plans.

Glory would indeed come, and those who came to believe in Jesus would live to savor it forever; however, and before all else, they had to listen.

Abraham had cultivated the virtue of listening to the divine voice to the degree that he was willing to risk losing all that had become familiar in order to embrace the unfamiliar.

You can be sure that a variety of other voices also clamored for his attention.

Perhaps Sarah's was the voice of reason, reminding Abraham of their ages and the fact that they enjoyed a fairly comfortable, stable and secure existence.

Without a map to guide them or specific destination toward which to travel, it probably seemed foolish to listen to God.

Perhaps Abraham only thought that's what God said ... perhaps his hearing wasn't what it used to be.

Reasonable objections notwithstanding, Abraham dared to listen to God and from that listening a great people has been born.

Like Abraham, Paul also dared to listen to God as did Peter, James, John and the other disciples.

Each of them discovered that with listening comes learning;

with learning comes loving,

and with loving comes the strength to leave all else in order to go where God leads.

When we also resolve to listen, learn, love and leave all to follow God's lead, there will also be other voices clamoring for our attention.

For this reason, Lent is given to us to as an opportunity for sharpening our ability and willingness to hear God's voice.

It=s really important for us to sharpen our listening skills,

To become disciplined listeners,

to learn how to listen to God=s voice over all the other noises.

A young man from a rural area traveled to New York City to visit a friend he had known since college.

As they walked down Madison Avenue, the visitor stopped suddenly and said, "Listen, I hear a cricket."

"Don't be silly," said the New Yorker, "with all the traffic, people and construction noises, that's impossible! "

His guest disagreed.

Then he listened attentively and walked in the direction of a large cement planter.

There in the soil and under a leaf, he found a cricket.

His friend was astounded!

By way of explanation, the out-of-towner said, "My ears are no better than yours; it simply depends on what you are listening for."

At that moment, he pulled a handful of change from his pocket and dropped it on the sidewalk.

Every head within a block turned in their direction.

As he bent down to retrieve the coins, he asked, "Now, do you understand?"

Lent is a time to rid ourselves of habits that are doing little good, or even causing harm, to ourselves and others, and to replace them with habits that are life-giving. Unfortunately, old habits die hard. And contrary to the popular notion that habits can be changed in 21 days, experts tell us that it can take up to a year to change old habits and develop new ones. Lent is 40 days for a reason—holiness is a habit, and habits take time to take hold.

In his book The Power of Habit: Why We Do What We Do in Life and Business (Random House), Charles Duhigg explains that when we perform an action for the first time, the brain works very hard to collect all the pertinent information involved, from start to finish, and to store the information in the part of the brain called the basal ganglia. If we continue to do the same action every day, the basal ganglia fills in the details so the rest of the brain can turn its attention to other things. Eventually, the action can be performed “without thinking.” In short, our brains are looking for ways to save effort, and forming habits is the key to achieving this.

Lent is a time to interrupt this habit loop and, in order to do so, we need to get our brains "thinking" and not just acting on automatic pilot. To do so, we focus on three actions that can be thought of as "keystone habits"—habits which, according to Duhigg, are so key that when changed they cause a ripple or domino effect in other areas and other habits of our lives. These three keystone habits are, of course, prayer, fasting, and almsgiving.

Prayer: One of the best ways to extinguish our old self—our ego self—is to take some time away from words. When our words cease, the ego is neutralized. At the same time, a space opens up into which God can speak instead. The essence of prayer is silence—which douses the ego as surely as water does fire. It also creates a space into which a host of other good and selfless habits can flow.

Fasting: When babies are hungry, they cry. That’s how we are born: obsessed with our own needs. A consumer society perpetuates this infantile state. When we intentionally put the brakes on consuming—whether it be food, drink, sex, or material goods—we are introducing a new habit that challenges the old: We are shifting the focus away from ourselves and our own “needs” and enabling ourselves to be more attuned to the needs of others.

Almsgiving: Few things in life force us to put aside our own needs more than becoming a parent. And yet, we do it because we gain more than we give. In a similar way, during Lent, we increase our generosity toward others, not to earn grace, please God, or draw attention to our own holiness, but to experience grace. Generosity enables us to rise above ourselves and to live, as St. Ignatius of Loyola said, as a person for others.

When these three keystone habits are practiced, a ripple effect of selflessness occurs: We no longer view ourselves as the center of the universe. And that is the beginning of the habit of holiness.

- See more at: http://www.uscatholic.org/articles/201403/week-one-three-keys-making-holiness-habit-during-lent-28563?utm_source=March+11%2C+2014&utm_campaign=ebulletin+March+11%2C+2014&utm_medium=email#sthash.sFqnmUfd.dpuf

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Second Sunday of Lent

Call to faithfulness

Reading I          Genesis 12:1-4 (call of Abraham)

Reading II         2 Timothy 1:8b-10 (exhortation to faithfulness)

Gospel                                Matthew 17:1-9 (Jesus transfigured)   

               

Key Passage    Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. (Matthew 17:1–2)

Adult:  How has your faith in Jesus transformed you? What difference does your faith in Jesus Christ make in your life?

Child:  How has the example of Jesus helped you become a better person and Christian?

Adult: What difference does your faith in Jesus Christ make in your life?

Child: What does it mean to you to be a holy person?

First Sunday of Lent

March 9, 2014

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Abraham hoped to be a great nation;

Peter hoped to stay on that happy hill forever.

The word Ahope@ has a nice sound: like the optimistic pop of a champagne cork.

But hope is a much headier brew than optimism.

Optimism is a frothy feeling that everything will be OK; hope is the firm conviction that this specific thing will happen.

Optimism is an over‑the‑counter placebo to make us think things will be fine;

hope is the prescription drug for some particular intention.

And what is that one thing hope calls us to?

In a word: God.

We humans alone are empowered to believe in God, hope in God, love God.

So, our deepest hope, our highest aspiration, is union with God.

Even if it takes some time to work itself into our conscious decisions.

As children, we know we should love God above all C but right now we prefer ice cream.

As youths, we know we should love God first C but right now we prefer Sam or Sally.

As adults, we know we should place God in the forefront of our desires Cbut right now we are more concerned with careers.

As parents, we know that God should be our final hope C but right now, our hope is invested in our children.

Our ultimate hope keeps getting put off in favor of more immediate desires.

All good things, but not the best thing.

As the Buddha says: AWe miss the glory because we are caught up in personal emotions.@

Hope is often portrayed as a passive position:

We just sit there and hope for something good to happen.

That is not hope C that is resignation.

Hope is a much more active stance toward life.

Augustine said that hope has two beautiful daughters:

anger at things that are wrong and courage to make them right.

So, although hope ultimately relies on God for its fulfillment, it depends on our own honest efforts for its immediate implementation.

It is important to note that Paul says we are Acalled@ to hope.

Hope does not push us; it pulls us.

Hope is not prodding, but attractive:

It draws us forward by its=s allure.

Amateur riders are told, that when they and their horse approach a frightening fence, they should just throw their heart over, then go after it.

Theologian Karl Rahner wrote: AHope is letting yourself go into God's uncontrollable future.@

A little risky, we might feel.

Especially after Yogi Berra cautions us that it is hard to make predictions, especially about the future.

Yet that is where our hope lies: ahead of us, just out of sight and almost out of reach.

We simply must throw our self in the air and hope someone catches us, like the circus aerialist who trusts that his catcher will be there.

If the flier tries to control things, reaches out or grabs too soon, the catcher will miss, and the flyer's hopes are dashed to the ground.

The catcher has to be in control C something like God C or the corporate venture fails.

As Browning wrote, AUnless our grasp is beyond our reach, then what's a heaven for?@

If all our hopes are within our own power to fulfill, then we never get outside of ourselves.

If we just have hope in ourselves, in our own abilities to get things done, then we are setting ourselves up for failure.

Hope just in ourselves can leave us lying alone, defeated, despairing.

Unlike hope in Christ, who draws all things to himself when he is lifted up.

And when we are lifted up in death, then hope has its way.

Our deathbed friends will have their hopes set on recovery.

But we are like migratory birds that are restless for the journey when they sense the time is near.

Our friends try to fend off the enemy of death by repeating a chant: AWhere there's life, there's hope.@

But death becomes our friend when we discover:

AWhere there's hope, there's life.@

Ash Wednesday

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Ashes are not so much grim as they are true. They are real. They tell an honest story, perhaps more honest than any story about our human life that we=re listening to anywhere else in 21st century American life.

The ashes are nothing if they are not the Gospel summons to enter into Lent as a church.

Here we are, the ones who will be marked with ash, the ones told to remember and to repent.

Let=s be clear about a few things that Lent is not.

First, Lent is not a one-day show.

Lent is today and every day until we are exhausted and ready to enter that amazing grace of Three Days that get us from Holy Thursday night to Easter Sunday.

Second, Lent is not some sort of churchy self-improvement program that asks just a tiny bit of self-denial and rewards us with lost pounds or saved money.

Third, Lent is not something I do by myself, my own little good resolutions, my own little prayers, my own little coins for the poor.

What is Lent?

It is literally breathtaking and life-giving.

It is hard and deeply disturbing because it is not about your piety or mine, not about sins, not about earning grace or points or anything else.

It is the church becoming the church.

It is baptized people becoming baptized people.

It is good human beings like ourselves trying to grapple with what the Gospel asks of good human beings now, here, the first part of March 2014 and in our city, our nation, our world that is so beaten down by greed gone wild, yet remains the world that God so loved.

Ashes are honest, and today we wear them to remind each other that they summon us to take these 40days and get ourselves, however young or old we are, into training to do and be all that we promised and all that we renounced at our baptism.

By learning how to pray,

 by learning to fast in some ways that will tell us what we really hunger for,

by learning to give what we callAours@without counting on anything except the mercy of God: that is what Lent will be for us.

No one does it alone.

I don=t keep Lent.

      You don=t keep Lent.

The church keeps Lent.

And more than any other season, in Lent we so need to see each other here on the six Sundays of Lent,

we so need to hear each other singing,

we so need to join each other at the table and in the procession that surrounds the table.

We so need to bring here our best efforts and our constant failures.

We so need to hear the stories Sunday by Sunday, the crucial stories that will unfold in us what our baptism means.

So let=s make a Lent like we have never made a Lent before.

We will pray in many ways.

We will fast and discover what it is that we should be so hungry and thirsty for.

We will begin to let go of our desperate hold on what we call Aours,@ and start working ourselves out of slavery and into the freedom of God=s children.

And doing this, we=ll walk boldly and yet with trepidation toward that font where on the night of the sacred Easter Vigil we will dare to promise and renounce anew

and we will dare to baptize those newcomers who want to drown all the works of sin and want to live freely and as servants in Christ our Lord.