Deacon Dan Wright

Sunday Homily: The Gift of Oneself

Our lives consist of far more than the things and money that we might possess… Perhaps the greatest possible wisdom lies in the notion that what matters most, what our lives really consist of, is what we are willing to share with others. What we do for others, and what we give away, is what the most important thing is.

The generosity that we offer of ourselves, not only with the things we have but also our time, our effort, our creative energy, and whatever wealth we may possess, is in reality the substance or foundation of true Christian responsibility in the world. In other words, our substantial actions, our concrete works, are the sign and evidence of our faith. It is by these that we are able to make a difference in the world.

Throughout the year we have ample opportunities to support worthy causes, such is the case today as we heard from the Sisters of St. Joseph about their mission. If it should seem difficult for us to decide the best way is to put our faith into action we fortunately have such causes that stand ready for our support and outreach to those they serve, who perhaps cry out for mercy most.

One of life's biggest lessons is that we are to give of ourselves exhaustively, and give in an excellent way. It seems that holiest people I've known are the ones who gave and worked tirelessly. It's not that our work ethic or exceeding personal generosity are what saves us, or even what makes us holy, but these things help us to discover the sacred in life by helping us to focus on those with whom we share life.

Over the past several months, perhaps even the past several years, there's been a lot in the news to inspire fear and anxiety about the future of the planet and the human race. The prophets of doom seem to stand on every corner crying out that the end is near. It's important for us to fully understand that the Holy Spirit casts out fear. Our concern, our focus and our energy, doesn't need to be consumed with the things that we can do nothing about. Rather, the right stance for us to take is to be busy exactly with the things in life that we can, to the contrary, do something about. The end is only near when we despair and decide to do nothing.

Where do we turn to give of ourselves? First, I would suggest family, friends, and loved ones. Our gifts and service first go to the ones with whom we have daily contact. We are to be the living sign of God's love to them. Then perhaps we might consider how to do a better job in our work, just as the sisters have come to us today with their appeal we too should make of ourselves a gift to others in our daily work. Then we might turn to the greater world around us. How might we make a positive outcome in the lives of people who live thousands of miles from us? How might we act or contribute to building a world full of hope for tomorrow, a world of peace and justice for future generations?

Finally we are to be sure of this: our Lord tells us that our lives will be demanded of us. We will have to answer, and thus we need to be prepared. However, rather than being consumed with anxiety about the times, we need only turn in attitude away from selfish needs and toward the needs of others. Our actions will follow. St. Paul suggests that we hide our lives in Christ. If we consider Christ, the anointed one, to be the source of all that anoints the world and makes it holy, then our job is to "lose ourselves" in the work of God. There is no better time than now to begin. What really matters is what we do for others.

Recognizing the Presence of Christ Among Us: Welcoming the Stranger

In the scripture from this past weekend we hear stories of hospitality and we consider the various roles that we might take when it comes to being a people who welcomes the stranger and guest among us.

Maybe we're not accustomed to thinking about guests in ways that go beyond the literal meaning of having guests in our homes; say the occasional dinner guest or the mother-in-law visiting from out of town. However, there is a sense where we're called upon to look beyond literal meanings. We've got to ask who the guest is, or who the guests are, that we are called upon to provide hospitality towards and that we are to welcome with a warm embrace.

The first reading from Genesis invites us to focus on those who come to us as strangers. With abundant hospitality Abraham and Sarah greet and welcome three strangers at the oaks of Mamre. In our times the stranger among us can mean different things, but the truest meaning of the stranger has to do with those who may be least like us in some outstanding or noticeable way. Often the stranger is racially, ethnically, or linguistically different from us.

The stranger, whom we are to embrace with hospitality, may be the foreigner, the immigrant or migrant. He or she may be the resident alien, who may or may not have legal status. The stranger may also be those who are different from us in faith, not only Protestants or Evangelicals—some of whom may be sitting among us now—but also non-Christians. The stranger may be Jewish, Hindu, Buddhist, or even a non-believer… really the list could go on and on. Muslims come to mind in a special way because in our society there is a growing tendency to hold Islam in suspicion and to reject its presence among us entirely. We do good to keep in mind that we may entertain angels unaware and the mighty God may be hidden in a number of guises.

The lesson may be quite difficult to actualize, but the story from Genesis teaches us to welcome the stranger abundantly. In a rather humorous way Abraham tells his guests, "Let me get you a little food…a little refreshment...a snack." He then prepares a bushel of flour, slaughters a steer, and offers curds and milk as a concrete sign of hospitality to the strangers who, in reality, are the presence of God and his angels. Abraham offers his real and actual embrace and his hospitality returns to him as a blessing.

In the gospel story today we learn the lesson of hospitality from both Mary and Martha, though we may identify with one more than the other. From Martha we learn that providing hospitality may mean looking beyond what we might typically think of as being hospitable. The question for us is, "How might we break the norms to offer ourselves for others?" Martha is constrained by her world and its societal expectations, whereas Mary moves beyond such hindrances and finds a place to sit and listen to Jesus.

In first century Palestine, the norm, or the expectation for a woman would certainly not have been for her to have sat as a disciple at the feet of the master. However, this is precisely Mary's gift of hospitality and it reveals her great courage and love. She went beyond everything telling her to do otherwise and she took a place near Jesus to show him the hospitality of her full attention and open heart. So she teaches us to learn the hospitality of the listener and to focus on that which is ultimately important. Mary teaches us to recognize the presence of Lord in our midst.

In his letter to the Colossians, which we heard from today, St. Paul invites us to joyfully bear the role that God has given us, whether we be an Abraham or a Sarah, or whether we be a Mary or a Martha. In our welcome and embrace of others we become messengers of the mystery of salvation, namely that Christ came to into the world to save people of every race and tongue, or every creed, of every land, and that he gave himself for us completely in love. We receive Jesus as the guest of our home, of our nation, when we embrace both each other, and the stranger among us.

Corpus Christi

Today, on the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, we again hear the familiar gospel story of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes. However, many of us may be familiar with an interpretation, or naturalistic explanation of the event, which claims that in all probability those who were present simply shared with each other what they had already.

Now while it's true that such an interpretation might teach us a good lesson concerning the practical value of generosity or the pragmatic value of our relationship to others, it nevertheless runs the risk of completely missing the point and impact of the true miracle. The story of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes is about God's superabundant goodness toward us. In the story as it is presented to us Jesus feeds five thousand people with five loaves and two fish. He does it out of the sheer power of God to provide for all our needs, but even more out of his desire to share his essential nature with us who, in our spiritual hunger, long for salvation.

We are no more in need of a naturalistic explanation of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes than we are in need of one to explain the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist. Jesus feeds the multitude in the same manner that God gives us himself totally and completely out of his goodness toward humankind in the Eucharist. He does it miraculously as a sign of his great love.

God loves us and in Jesus he is one of us and one with us. In Jesus God gives humanity the gift of himself. He gives himself totally and with a degree of abandon that can only be described as pure love flowing forth from the inexhaustible fountain of God's own being. In the feeding of the multitude and in the Eucharist Jesus gives us that which is essential about his nature rather what is merely tangible.

A prayer that we all know, that many, if not most of us pray daily, is the Our Father or the Lord's Prayer. When we look closely at this prayer it reveals something to us about God's gift to us. We all know the words "Give us this day our daily bread." When we look at the original Greek we find that the word translated as "daily" is epiousios. It doesn't have an exact meaning in English, but through the ages it has been interpreted to mean "daily" or "all we need for today." Interestingly there is no other occurrence of the word in Greek literature other than in the Lord's Prayer as found in Matthew and Luke; therefore, the word lacks meaning outside a eucharistic context. Our daily bread, our epiousios bread, which literally translates as "super-substantial" bread is the sustenance that Jesus provides in the Eucharist and in the multiplication of the five loaves and two. It shows us that God is not limited and that it is his will to provide from the depths of his very being for human salvation.

Now there is a practical response on our part. As God gives to us, so we are to return our gifts to God by the giving of ourselves, by giving what we have to give. Though we are undoubtedly to give to others, the starting place for our giving of ourselves must be the gift of ourselves back to God first, just as Abram gave in return, in thanksgiving, that is, in eucharistia, to Melchizedek the King of Salem, we too are to give of ourselves to God, to Jesus, who is the King of Peace.

In faith we offer ourselves in total abandon to God's will. We say with our Blessed Mother, "As it pleases God, so let it be done unto me." In the total outpouring of who we are and all we are we become the imitators of God in Christ, and we find complete fulfillment in his will. We must find that there is no end to which we are not willing to go; we empty ourselves in divine imitation and in doing so we come to a better knowledge of the gift of the Body and Blood of Christ. In our giving of self in the work that is love, we come to know that the gift we give is only that which God has given us already. The gift we give is his essence, his super-substantial gift of himself to us—the gift given at the multiplication of loaves and fishes, the gift given on the cross, and the gift given at the altar.

Sunday Homily: The Work of God, the Love of God

If we were to pick a theme for today from our readings it might be work, though work may not be something we necessarily want to reflect on first thing Sunday morning. So let's look at it from the viewpoint of the work of the Lord, and how he invites us to participate in his work as partners.

During the early days of the Church, at the time of the apostles Paul and Barnabas, the work of the Lord was clearly evident in a powerful way. In our time too, the work of the Lord, the activity of the Holy Spirit, is still evident. God is still powerful and present in our world today.

From the beginning of all things God established a purpose and plan to be carried out. We have the privilege to be part of that plan as God initiates and continues to establish his kingdom here on earth that will someday culminate into the Kingdom of Glory.

After his Resurrection, Jesus empowered the apostles with the Holy Spirit that they might go out and do his work, to carry out the plan for all time. There were several things in the readings today that caught my attention. First, I noticed the work of the apostles in strengthening the spirits of the disciples. The apostles encouraged and bolstered the early Church, while at the same time they made it clear that to enter the kingdom of the Lord "it is necessary to undergo many hardships."

More often than not various hardships are just part of life. I think of the daily work of being part of a family, of raising children and the responsibility of moms and dads. I also think of the daily work that most of us do to make a living and provide for our families. Often it involves certain hardships. Part of the virtue that the Holy Spirit gives us is to patiently endure in life's ordinary hardships; in doing so we remain in the "spirit" of being Christians.

There are also spiritual hardships to endure that are part of being a Christian. We are called to fight against that which stands in opposition to the establishment of the Kingdom of God. Throughout history Christians have often been called to endure ultimate hardships for the faith.

As we move toward Pentecost our readings will more and more prepare us to understand the action of the Holy Spirit among us. In next week's readings we will learn of the action the Holy Spirit working through the apostles as the teacher of the Church. This week we see the Holy Spirit at work in the apostles appointing presbyters or priest-elders preparing for the New Jerusalem, the Kingdom of God come down from heaven and establishing a new order of creation here with us. It is an order in which sin, division, and destruction have passed and we share in the work of bringing it into being.

The chief work of God was, and is still, the work of the Cross—not a thing of the past done and gone into the years immemorial, but a work still present, still effective, and made present to us in the liturgy or the work that done here at the Mass. It is a work in which we share and participate as we experience the sacrifice of the Cross, which is a visible sign of the Kingdom.

There remains a work to consider. It comes to us in the form of a commandment. In the gospel today Jesus says, "Love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another. This is how all will know you are my disciples…" In our world today the meaning of "love" does not always come through clearly. Jesus' commandment is that we love one another as he has loved us.

The example of that love, of course, is the total self-giving sacrifice of the Cross. It is the example above all others of love, and it informs us of the particularities and actions belonging to commandment that we love one another. Love is the work and endurance of faith that we are to accomplish in our daily lives. Love is the substance of the Kingdom of God, and the building material of the new creation. The love required of us by God's commandment is a sacrificial and self-giving love. It is the love that does not seek its own but rather that we give to others. It can take many forms, but most often and most simply it begins with the work of prayer.

Our call today in the world where we live, in the world where there are still many hardships to undergo and new challenges daily, is to meet every one of those challenges with true and real love; that is, we are to go forth with faith and make a total gift of ourselves for the good of others. In doing so we follow the lead of the Holy Spirit, of the apostles and disciples of the past, and we make way for the coming of a new heaven and a new earth.

Where Teaching and Diaconate Meet

It's not often that I find myself in the news. Certainly with the kind of news we might see nowadays this can be considered a good thing I suppose. 

However, recently I was honored to have been selected to be profiled on one of the local Austin news programs for my work as a teacher. During the interview I was asked to explain what a deacon is and does. My comments about it were somewhat brief, so I was delightfully surprised to find that once the editing was done my role as a deacon took the forefront. 

I share this positive human interest story with you, and as always I seek your continued prayers that the work I do truly will always make a difference. Again, I am honored--but perhaps even more I am humbled and called to an even greater degree of Christian service.

Divine Mercy Sunday

On this Sunday, besides celebrating the Second Sunday of Easter, we celebrate Divine Mercy Sunday. This day, in the life of the Church, the reality of the Resurrection comes together with a special focus on God's immeasurable gift of mercy to us.   

In each of the scripture passages this weekend we are given eye-witness testimony to the Resurrection of Jesus. We hear of Jesus appearing in his resurrected glory to the Apostle John who was exiled in his old age on the island of Patmos because of his faith. John reminds us that he is a sharer with us in Jesus. We also hear the retelling of the familiar gospel story in which Jesus comes to the apostles where they were locked away and hidden out of fear of being persecuted. We hear the eye-witness report, again from John, the beloved disciple, of Jesus bestowing the Holy Spirit on the apostles and giving them the authority to share God's mercy by the forgiveness of sins.

All three scripture readings today offer us inspiration by witnessing to the Resurrection of Jesus, which we recall in a special way here in the Easter season. However, what caught my attention the most was the first narrative we heard, from Acts. Perhaps it stood out the most because this is Divine Mercy weekend—a time when we consider the abundance of grace and clemency offered to us.

Like the other two readings, the first one also witnesses to the resurrected Lord. It tells us the story of the merciful work of the early believers as they carried the sick into the streets so that just maybe Peter's shadow might fall on them, and they would be healed.

Though we're separated by a long length of time from the early Church, we share a great deal with them. We are like those who come for healing from the apostles. We come to the Church to receive mercy, healing, and forgiveness. We come to be hear the words of reconciliation, and we come so that we might be empowered to give mercy.

We are like those who hope to be healed because in a deep way each one of us, in some place in our lives, desires the healing touch of God. We come and we present ourselves so that God might fill us, restore us, and make our lives complete and whole in every imaginable way.

As receivers of mercy we are to also be givers of mercy. Blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy. A good question for each of us to consider is how we will show mercy to others. Are we willing to take the personal responsibility to be merciful to others? What will it look like? Perhaps it will mean standing up for the weak and vulnerable among us when it is unpopular to do so. Perhaps it will mean taking a stand for an unpopular but merciful cause. Perhaps it will mean forgiving and embracing those whom we know to be in the wrong.

Something for us to consider is that when we allow the Holy Spirit to live and move and have his being within us, mercy comes naturally. It happens automatically and authentically. There is, however, a starting place for us. 

Most often the place we have to begin is in recognizing our own need, in recognizing and perhaps naming the vastness of our need for God. Being able to express our need—to put in words our failures and need for reconciliation—is the starting place for healing and new life. Frankly for many of us this may be the most difficult thing to do. Yet our Lord receives us as we are. He appoints the ministers of reconciliation over us, and, like with Peter passing by, we discover Jesus hidden among us.

This weekend we continue to celebrate the great Easter joy of the risen Lord. In Mercy Sunday we have an opportunity to celebrate the Resurrection in a special and tangible way. In it we may realize forgiveness by receiving it abundantly. In celebrating mercy we know that the Lord walks near us and by the breath of the Holy Spirit he is ministering to us still today, and moreover we hear him calling out to us to be ministers of divine mercy.

Sunday Homily: I Thirst

In the gospel today Jesus, after a long Journey, likely in the heat of the midday, comes to Jacob's well where he happens to meet a Samaritan woman and asks her to get him a drink from the well. He expresses his thirst, his desire for water. There is an interesting parallel in Jesus' asking for water at the well because at later time, from the cross, Jesus will again ask for water. He will say, "I thirst," but rather than water he will be offered vinegar.

Jesus' thirst, on a symbolic level, reflects God's longing for reconciliation with his people, just as thirst in other places in scripture symbolizes our longing or perhaps our need for God, so Jesus' thirst symbolizes God's longing for us. In Jesus it reflects God's desire that we come to him to be saved from the thirst that is sin separating us from him.

Indeed water, in the readings today, may be taken to stand for the reconciling event of salvation. Water, as a symbol, plays an important role in the story of salvation. From the time of Moses, and even before, God was preparing a means by which humanity might enter into a restored relationship with God and be reconciled.

God desires that we come to him and recognize the thirst that is our separation from him. God longs for all people to turn toward him and have our relationship with him set straight. He longs for us to come and have our spiritual thirst quenched, though all too often we don't recognize the need for the living water in our lives, so the scripture gives us some good reminders today.

Recently I've been involved in interviewing groups of teenagers preparing for Confirmation. In that process I've been asked some very good questions, some tough questions in many cases. Just recently a young lady asked how we can become one with God. Now certainly a question like this can mean a lot of different things, and likewise it can have many deep and multi-layered answers, but what I thought was essentially being asked is how can we experience a relationship with God: how can we come to know and experience God in our lives?

The readings for this weekend came to my mind, but also the words of the psalmist who sings, "As the deer longs for streams of water so my soul longs for you O God." God creates a thirst in us such that it can only be satisfied by that which our hearts were made to hold. God desires a relationship that involves our pouring out ourselves to him just as he pours out himself to us. God longs for reciprocity with humanity. Often we experience the absence of God as emptiness in our lives that we try to fill with everything except what will actually satisfy. We can become like the Samaritan woman with her five husbands.

God created human beings to be in relationship with him. He made the human soul to have the capacity to hold his presence within. Each person is born with an innate desire and longing for God. There is a God-shaped place in the heart of every human being. It is only sin that clouds this desire and separates us from God to the point that we are blind to our need, our longing, and our thirst for communion with God.

In the first reading from Exodus today we heard that in their thirst the people grumbled. On a simple level we have a story of a people wandering in the desert and having their physical need for water miraculously met. On a much deeper level we have a story of a people in need of reconciliation. It is a story of a people lost in their sins, lost in their separation from God, blind to their need, and yet still in their sin, in their separation and hardness of heart, God instructs Moses to strike the rock with a staff so that water might flow from it. Again there is a parallel because at a later time the rock of our salvation, Jesus, will be stuck on the Cross with a staff and water and blood will flow from his side as a sign of the definitive reconciliation between God and humanity.

The story of the woman at the well presents an informative scenario for us to consider at Lent. All of the right symbols are present to allow it to tell us about our need and about how we might come to be reconciled. Jesus asks the woman for water but tells her that if she knew who he was she would ask him for water and he would give her the living water of eternal life.

The Samaritan woman goes on to confess to Jesus. She doesn't hide her sin, nor does she shy away from her separation that comes from merely being a Samaritan. Rather she presents herself authentically to Jesus—she doesn't hide that she is a sinner. She pours out her soul to him not holding back anything. In her meeting with Jesus she experiences true reciprocity. There is an exchange between Jesus and her and she receives a spiritual good in it. She receives the gracious gift of being reconciled with God.

Unlike the self-righteous Pharisees in Jerusalem the Samaritan woman recognizes her spiritual thirst. Also unlike in his dealings with the people of Jerusalem, Jesus doesn't hide his identify from the Samaritan woman. He tells her outright who he is and he offers her the living water, which she doesn't immediately grasp the meaning of fully. To woman at the well Jesus becomes a sign and an offering of reconciliation. God chooses to reveal the Christ to a woman of Samaria who is living in sin. Yet she recognizes her separation and confesses her need.

Fortunately we have ample opportunities here in our parish to take advantage of the Sacrament of Penance or Reconciliation. We have the opportunity to step into the shoes of the woman at the well and open our hearts to God leaving nothing hidden. This coming Wednesday morning, March 10^th we will have priests available for confession from 9 AM until noon. It's a great Lenten opportunity pause along the way and drink water from the Rock.

Being one with God, having a restored relationship with our creator involves recognizing our need and letting God know it. He wants us to say "I thirst." When we come to terms with what separates us from God, when we recognize our need, and when we present ourselves authentically for reconciliation, we may then rest assured in blessed hope that God will pour out the quenching water of life filling our souls to overflowing.

 

Who Do You Say I Am?

"Who do people say that the Son of Man is?" From Matthew 16

Something that many Christians may take for granted is the knowledge of the identity of Jesus. Those who have had the faith be part of their lives from an early age likely have an idea or a strong sense of knowing the identity of the person Jesus. During Lent it's worth reexamining our acquaintance with Jesus. Who do we say he is? This is something I mentioned that I wanted to do back at the beginning of the month.

As I grew up being a Protestant the Jesus I knew best was the Jesus of doctrine. That is, I knew Jesus as the Son of God, as the second person of the Trinity, as divinity robed in flesh, as the healer and miracle worker, and as the one who suffered and died on the Cross for my salvation and for all who would believe in him. Certainly, these truths of the faith are not to be denied. Certainly, they possess great value.

However, there is side of Jesus that we may not ordinarily consider in our Sunday school formulations. The identity of Jesus is revealed in the way he manifests himself in sharing his humanity among us. Indeed Jesus is the Son of God, and in his humanity he shows us a special side of being the Son; it is the side that stands with us as human beings and as such shows solidarity with us in our needs.

As we heard in the weekend readings Jesus went into the desert and was tempted. In that he shares with us the trials and ordeals that we face each day. As we face temptation and often fail, we may look to Jesus who did not fail but withstood temptation. We may keep in mind that Jesus shares all aspects of his humanity with us. So when we face temptation, and even if we fail in it, we may turn and place our humanity within his, for he freely gives us all that he has.

In today's gospel we see Jesus sharing with Peter. The aspect of Jesus' personhood revealed to Peter has to do with his authority. Peter recognizes this authority and Jesus gives him a share in it. Peter becomes, by the Lord's word, the rock on which Jesus is to build his Church.

As Lent progresses I hope to reflect more on the person of Jesus—perhaps on those aspects of him that we do not ordinarily notice or consider. As I do so, I plan to bear in mind that the Lord shares something with us. He shares humanity and gives of himself. I have heard that he shares our humanity but another way to look at it is that he shares his humanity, which conquers sin and death.

Friday Reflection: The Spiritual Echo

Although my time for writing has been somewhat limited recently by family, work, and ministry duties, I have reached a point where am ready to begin reflecting for Lent here on my blog. Today, Friday, offers a good place to begin after having had a few days off from writing and having had the opportunity to consider the presence of God in the lives of those who call to him.

Something that I have experienced—at least from time to time— in my life, and perhaps you too may have noticed this, is that when we internalize the scripture, when it becomes like a food for us, we begin to live it out in our lives. When we let the scripture become a reality in us we learn to call upon God in such a way that we are able to hear what can only be described metaphorically as a spiritual echo returning to us from the source of holiness.

Perhaps it's a rare occurrence that we call on God, saying "Father" and hearing within our deepest recesses the acknowledgement of that prayer, or perhaps our spiritual lives are tuned well enough that we have learned to listen to the sound of the spirit at all times. I believe that often such hearing is born out of necessity; that is, it comes forth from our need for God in our lives.

It wasn't too long ago it seems that I reflected on those who cry out for God in the night. To find oneself calling in the night "Father, help me" is not something that one would seek out. We avoid such crosses to carry. However, when life overwhelms us, if we will call out from our deepest need, "Father," we will recognize the Holy Spirit's presence and comfort within our own calling out.  

Lent has the potential to build in us such an awareness of the presence of God. When we place ourselves humbly before the one who has the power to do all things we sense communication. We hear with our spiritual ears the voice of spirit. It echoes and reverberates in our souls and inspires us to reach for an even greater awareness of God.

Last night, in the evening prayer, I read in Psalm 144 the words "He is my love, my fortress." May Lent bring a realization of the experience of God being our love, and may that be communicated clearly to us. May God also be our fortress: may he protect us from all harm and may we know him as a place of refuge. May God offer us the courage to embrace life fully as only we can do in him.

Sunday Homily: Blessed Are Those Who Hope in the Lord

The readings this weekend present us with several comparisons regarding the way of life that we might choose to live. The biblical writers make their point by laying out stark contrasts. They give us the comparison and contrast of blessing and curse; of eternal life and ephemeral existence; of beatitude and woe. It's clear that we're given a choice; that the path for us to take is within our freedom. Clearly, God is asking us, "Which way will you choose to go? Where do you put your hope? Is there anything greater?"

Something that I've noticed reading the gospels over the years is that many people of Jesus' time seem to have been looking for a king in whom they could place their hope for the world. They were looking for a messiah who would free them from the bonds of foreign rule and oppression. They may have been looking for a king who would restore their state to its former glory. They may have even been looking for the kingdom of God on earth. Surely Jesus knew their woes; sure he knew their need and their cries of desperation and their pain-- their longing for justice--and just as surely he desired to teach them the way of blessing.

Just last week I had an opportunity in my work as a high school teacher to talk to my students about hope and blessing. Actually, my discussion was geared toward tomorrow's observance of Presidents Day. With my class I explored what we each have right now, in the context of everyday life, which we can count as a blessing, and what there is that gives each of us hope. We went on to discuss how having hope can lead people to achieve great things in their lives. We also talked about how we learn to listen to the voice of hope from the example of others. Indeed most people, even those who may have little cause to put hope in this life, will say there is always some reason to hope. The voice of hope is often heard in the darkest of nights.

The thing about true hope is that when it's genuine it will lead us to its real source. True hope doesn't lie so much in looking to presidents and kings, though they can offer us hope for the moment and we should, in fact, look to them as a source of hope and inspiration for our lives. I wouldn't want to deny anyone the hope he or she places in another, the hope that one places in a president or in a spiritual leader, especially if that hope seems that it might heal the many mistakes of the past or the problems of the present. Hope looks both to what there is now and to the future for something better.

In the contrasts that scripture presents us today we might find ourselves feeling somehow between heaven and earth. We might feel at a loss for a place to stand spiritually. Where is one to place his or her energy and concerns? Are we to place our trust in the world of human affairs or in that which is purely spiritual? Where is our allegiance to be? It's likely that our focus is fixed on the needs of our family or on being a success at our workplace, or pleasing our employer, and or providing for the needs of our spouses and children. Certainly these are not things to consider lightly.

Indeed, we do live in the real world, and when we look beyond our most immediate personal needs, as we should, we find that there are a multitude of real life issues that call out for hope--and something more--in this world. The New Testament teaches us that we have faith, hope, and love, and that love greatest of these.

While we look to the time of fulfillment and completion, there is still a world challenged by poverty, hunger, injustice, hate, and discrimination. I recently had young person ask how the Lord could say blessed are the poor or blessed are the hungry. "Aren't these the things we consider to be a curse?" Indeed the Lord teaches us to look beyond this life, but never should we give up hope, never should we cease to love.

While we stand with our feet grounded in this life, we still hope somehow to make it a better place for ourselves and for the generations to come. We have solidarity with each other and we look to the needs of world in which we live, and woe to us—Jesus says—if we do not. So we stand with others and we stand with our trust and hope in the Lord. We hope for the world now and we hope in the world to come. We hope in the reality of the Resurrection.

As I read today's reading for the first time I was reminded of the traditional American folksong that sings "We shall not be moved, we shall not be moved, like a tree that's planted by the water, we shall not be moved." As we enter into Lent this week, with the celebration of Ash Wednesday beyond, it's a good time to consider where we stand and with whom we stand. It's a good time to consider where our hope truly lies and in whom we may have true hope. It's also a time for us to step back and consider the blessings that we have and to ask ourselves what it means to be blessed. It's a good time to consider those who have less of a blessing and not as much hope.

Lent is a good time to consider the choices we make; where we stand between heaven and earth and to consider the contrast between an eternity of blessing and an eternity of naught. Blessed are you who hope in the Lord, for like trees planted by the waters you will stretch out your roots to the stream. You will have no fear of what may come; you will bear fruit; you will hear the voice of hope, and you will be blessed.