Deacon Dan Wright

Friday Reflection: The Memorial of Agatha, the Memorial of Goodness

He gave the power to become the children of God to everyone who received him. 

John 1:12

St. Methodius, in today's Office of Readings, tells us that St. Agatha, being true to the meaning of her name, was truly good. He tells us that she lived as a child of God. The memorial we celebrate today may be taken as reminder of our call to goodness.

Being good requires some exploration on our part. What seems like it should be self-evident actually takes a bit of uncovering. Recall that our Lord said, "Why do you ask me about the good?" or, in other versions, "Why do you call me good? There is but one who is good and that one is God." Goodness may not be as common as we might think.

To be good we must be Christ-like, which goes along perfectly with my intention to further explore how Jesus stands out in his person and in his holiness. Some might argue, erroneously, that it is impossible to be good. However, as Christians we have a duty to seek out what is good and—to the best of our ability—to do the good. We bear in mind, of course, that Jesus is perfect goodness revealed in a human person.

If we consider goodness to the opposite of evil, and evil to be the absence of goodness, it follows that goodness is the overall positive attributes of something. It is that which is not lacking in its positive intention: it is that which is whole and complete. It is the realization of faultless perfection.

To be good is to be an imitator of goodness; to imitate Christ and to imitate the saints. It is to pray that God will make us good because he is able to create from what is not yet. God is able to add goodness where none yet currently exists.

To be good in the world in which we live today calls on us to make strong decisions. It calls on us to stand up for what it means to love others. It calls on us to make difficult decisions courageously. It calls on us to give of ourselves. Goodness demands positive contribution; it demands right action. Often goodness requires sacrifice. Always goodness embrace humanity without reservation. 

I like the line from St. Methodius where he says that Agatha lived as a child of God. In these words we find the secret of being good and pleasing to God. We might pray something like this: "Today Lord, I want to be your child. I want to live as a child of God. I want to be your good child; to be your loving and obedient child. Today I want to live in the reality that you make it possible for me to be everything it means to good. Today Lord I receive you into my heart."

 

 

Remembering Timothy and Titus: On Being Disciples

The mother of Jesus and his brothers arrived at the house.
Standing outside, they sent word to Jesus and called him.
A crowd seated around him told him,
"Your mother and your brothers and your sisters
are outside asking for you."
But he said to them in reply,
"Who are my mother and my brothers?"
And looking around at those seated in the circle he said,
"Here are my mother and my brothers.
For whoever does the will of God

is my brother and sister and mother." Mk 3:31-35

The gospel reading today for the Memorial of Saints Timothy and Titus, is one that I find to be an interesting selection. It juxtaposes Mary, whom we call blessed and mother, and whom we adore, with all who strive to do the will of God.

To do the will of God might seem to be a monumental task, perhaps one too great for mere men and women to accomplish. We need not look far in this life to notice, not the triumphs of humanity, but the common failures and traps. In our times it frequently seems that the expectation is for us to make a mess of our lives, and so we go about doing just that.

However, there is another way; it is the way of those who are called disciples. One of the memories I cherish and value from my childhood is that my great aunt, who took on the role of mother for me, taught me at an early age that I could be a disciple. She did this by directly teaching me about the disciples and apostles and then telling me that I too could be a disciple.

Discipleship is about doing what the world does not expect us to do. The world tells us to follow after our base appetites and to let no one tell us that the way of our desires will lead to an unfulfilled life rather than the fulfillment that they falsely promise.

Jesus wants us to be disciples. He wants those who long to do his will. Doing the will of God has the effect of incorporating us into the family of Christ. We stand alongside his mother and his brothers and sisters who have said, "I desire to do your will O Lord, help me in my weakness to be what you want me to be. Help me Lord to be what the world does not expect me to be. May I triumph in you; may I overcome in you, and may I be made new entirely in you."

Discipleship is the witness of the power of God to reach in and change lives. It is the witness of conversion, and the witness of a love greater than any love the world knows. Really, I think we all want love. Too often this becomes the source of many failures. If we only knew that the love of God awaits us and the magnitude of it, we might fall to our knees immediately and pray, "thy will be done."

Paul's Conversion and Our Conversion

Although I considered the readings for the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul today as a place to begin my reflection, what stood out to me more, at least in the general theme of conversion was a reading from First Peter, which was part of yesterday’s evening prayer:

Praised be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, he who in his great mercy gave us new birth; a birth unto hope which draws its life from the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead; a birth to an imperishable inheritance, incapable of fading of defilement…

Certainly when we look at the life of St. Paul, who said that his sins were greater than those belonging to any other because of his persecution of the Church, we can see both the mercy of God and the new birth in Christ active in his life. Indeed, God frees us all from sin and gives us a new beginning in a world made new by the power of Christ.  Paul shows us what we can attain with faith. The essential message of Saints Peter and Paul does not vary. God makes all things new; he does it in us by the power of his great love to give us a new beginning, a new birth. In Christ God makes all things new and we stand blessed to participate in praising God along with countless saints and angels.

As I read the passage quoted above I felt compelled to insert myself into it as I continued:

…which is kept in heaven for me who is guarded with God’s power through faith; to be revealed in the last days.

While the message of the conversion of St. Paul certainly teaches us about the great apostle, it also teaches us about ourselves. It is about Paul and us. Therefore, when I first read St. John Chrysostom’s excerpt from the Office of Readings for today’s feast, I felt a strong sense of affirmation.  He says:

Paul, more than anyone else, has shown us what man really is, and in what our nobility consists, and of what virtue this particular animal is capable…

...Of what we are capable through God's mercy by our daily participation in the new creation; by our participation from moment to moment in God's design for humanity. What might be wrought by faith human tongues have just begun to express.

Remembering St. Agnes: Considering a Child's Sacrifice

Today is the birthday of a virgin; let us imitate her purity. It is the birthday of a martyr; let us offer ourselves in sacrifice. It is the birthday of Saint Agnes, who is said to have suffered martyrdom at the age of twelve….Dragged against her will to the altars, she stretches out her hands to the Lord in the midst of flames, making the triumphant sign of Christ the victor on the altar of sacrilege….Too young to be punished, yet old enough for a martyr’s crown; unfitted for the contest, yet effortless in victory, she shows herself a master of valor despite the handicap of youth. As a bride she would not be hastening to join her husband with the same joy she shows as a virgin on her way to punishment, crowned not with flowers but with holiness of life, adorned not with braided hair but with Christ himself.—St. Ambrose, On Virgins

It may be that sometimes we don’t sufficiently consider the lives of the saints and martyrs on their feast days or memorials. For those who are able to attend Mass daily there may be a better understanding where there is a priest for whom such things bear great importance. I must admit that sometimes, due to the busyness of the day or something else, I have failed to give the kind of attention to the lives of the saints that would truly inform my worship. However, sometimes there is a saint who seems to call out and catch my attention.

Years ago I had a long visit with a wise elderly priest after coming to terms with an especially trying personal challenge. The priest told me that there had always been a saint praying for me, whom I may not have realized or known about—he said it was a special saint whose prayers were just for me. I believe this now more than ever.

I can’t really say that Agnes, this young girl who lived in the third or fourth century, has been my special saint. However, I do know that she stands out to me today. Perhaps it is her youth and the fact that I have a little boy who is only a year younger than Agnes was when she offered her life in the truest imitation of Christ. Perhaps it is my consideration of my own daughter, who is just couple years older than St. Agnes was, who speaks to me. Regardless, I want to stop for a moment and consider St. Agnes, whom St. Ambrose tells us “succeeds in convincing others of her testimony about God.”

Today I call out her name. I say "St. Agnes, little friend, not unlike some of my students whom I fondly remember from years past, not unlike my own children, pray for me. Help me to have your courage and commitment to Christ. Help me to become like you, who depended on God and placed yourself entirely in the hands of Christ our savior. Let me be like you…to hide myself in Christ Jesus…to place myself entirely in his great sacrifice… but also to face the here and now with courage. Not being called to suffer the martyr’s death necessarily, but being called to give my all, my everything, for him who loved me greatest and saved me from eternal death."

The Lesson of Meeting Hate With Love: Reflecting on Martin Luther King Jr.

Recently a coworker asked me what I thought the significance is of celebrating Martin Luther King Jr. Day.  Too often those of us who get the day off from work—teachers, government employees, students and others—may tend not to think all that much about why we have the day away from our work, but instead we may treat it as just another day off. 

I believe it’s a mistake for us not to reflect upon and consider the significance of this holiday.  In fact, we really ought to find some way to celebrate it actively.  We ought to find some action by which we can incorporate the meaning of the holiday into our lives.  I want to offer a suggestion: we can allow Martin Luther King Jr. Day to be the occasion for a renewed commitment to making peace in our world.  In the name of Martin Luther King Jr., that is, in the name of all the good that he stood for, we can commit to a daily act of peacemaking in order for the world to be a better place for everyone, a place of true freedom and mutual respect; a place of true justice and hope.

Martin Luther King Jr. Day is about the dream that he had, and a dream for us to share.  His was a dream of peace; a dream of cooperation and equality.  Dr. King’s dream included all Americans—no, more than that.  His dream is a dream for every man, woman, and child of planet earth.  It is a dream that I find to be in keeping with everything that I’ve been taught about the true significance of living the life in Christ.  It is a dream where I see in the faces of all people my brothers and sisters, my family, and my friends.  Dr. King’s dream is a vision of a world free from oppression and hostility; free from hatred, inequality, injustice, and ignorance.  How could we not make it our own?  How could we not live it today?

The lesson that I take from Dr. King, and that I commit to live, is the lesson of meeting hate with love.  In a conversation with a friend recently I mentioned that Dr. King taught that we must meet hate with love.  I went on to say that to do so is certainly not the “natural” thing to do.  Much to the contrary, it’s natural to meet hate with repulsion, and often with aggression.  My friend told me that meeting hate with love is supernatural, and indeed to do so requires that we tap into God’s reservoir of grace.  Something I want to emphasize here is that it’s far from impossible to meet hate with love.  In fact, meeting hate with love should be the habitual Christian stance.  It’s the real way that each of us will change the world one person at a time.

Take a few moments today to consider the significance of Martin Luther King Jr. Day.  Incorporate it into your prayer life if you will.  Ask God to make you a vessel of peace.  Consider today the significance of this great Christian leader who asked us to share his dream.  Consider the value of peacemaking and nonviolence as a way of bringing about a transformed world.  Moreover, reflect on the real responsibility that each of us must take to do something to make peace a reality.

Let us go forward together and always meet hate with love.  Love has the power to transform, and all who encounter true love will remain forever changed by it.

Meditation on the Memorial of St. Ephrem: The Sacraments

Living within a Christian milieu that consists of ideas tempered strongly with evangelicalism, we sometimes miss or overlook our rich heritage of the sacramental understanding of the faith. Having grown up in an evangelical household I can tell you that the word "sacrament" was not mentioned ever. It wasn't until I began exploring Catholicism that I began to consider the Sacraments as the means to grace.

It's not uncommon to find that Protestants, especially Evangelicals—with the exception of the old "mainline" denominations to a degree—reject the idea of sacraments and sacramentality.

Years ago, when I was working toward a theology Masters at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary, I had a conversation with a woman who was in the process of being ordained to the United Methodist Church. She asked me about my theological interests. I mentioned Rahner, though at the time I had only just begun to read his works. My interest in Rahner sprang from what I perceived as his similarity to the European phenomenological philosophers whom I had studied as an undergraduate.

"You know," she told me, "that's good, but he's sacramental." I replied that a sacramental approach was exactly what I wanted. In her "…but he's sacramental" I perceived an implicit rejection of the notion that God works through sacraments as a means to provide the grace needed unto salvation. I suppose this type of rejection is what runs behind ideas such as the evangelical doctrine that baptism is not necessary for salvation, but rather that it is merely a church ordinance. In an evangelical view the same might be said in regard to the Lord's Supper, marriage, etc.

My classmate's objection to Rahner's theology as "sacramental" was ironic given that Rahner's theology might have helped her to see a connection between an individualist or personal view of grace and the certainty of grace available made possible in each of the Sacraments.  Sacraments and sacramentality in general are not such that they should appear as somehow foreign to or not belonging to biblical Christianity, even from a merely biblicist point of reference.

So this morning, as I happened to look at the Office of Readings for the Memorial of St. Ephrem (born 306 A.D.), I was delighted to find rich sacramental language dating from the early days of the Church.

In your sacrament we daily embrace you and receive you into our bodies; make us worthy to experience the resurrection for which we hope. We have had your treasure hidden within us ever since we received baptismal grace; it grows ever richer at your sacramental table.

Indeed it is refreshing to find such early affirmations of the faith we have come to know and depend upon. However, over the years I have noticed that frequently the idea—the truth—of sacramental grace often does not get the attention it deserves.

I have frequently wondered whether the Sacraments are still understood as the primary means of grace, or if we, like our Evangelical neighbors, understand salvation as a purely individual concern, defined only in terms of one's personal relationship with God. A question that concerns me is whether as Catholic Christians we are beginning to embrace a way of believing which is lacking in the communal dimension of the Sacraments as the primary means to receive the grace that leads to eternal life.

I ask this only because I frequently fail to see much attention given to teaching and sharing the understanding of the idea of the Sacraments as the normal means to grace. Perhaps it's a local phenomenon that comes from being literally surrounded by non-denominational churches, bible churches, storefront churches--some less than a mile apart, some back-to-back.  Surely there is influence.  I see it several parishes.  There is undoubtedly a tendency to be less sacramentally-centered and more emphasis put on the personal or individual dimensions of faith. 

It seems as if, in terms of importance, we risk transposing the knowledge of the importance sacramental participation with individual prayer and bible study, which of course in themselves are good.  However, personal prayer for forgiveness of sins is not a substitute for Penance.  Nor is bible study or preaching a substitute for Eucharist.  While we receive grace and forgiveness in personal prayer we do not receive it as a sacrament.  The same might be said for receiving the presence of God in bible study.  Sacraments offer us the certainty of grace beyond the limits of personal doubt.

I suppose it all goes along with shorter lines at confession, which in turn makes me wonder how much understanding accompanies those who are in the long lines for communion. From time to time at Baptism meetings I have caught doubtful glances or confused looks when mentioning that Baptism is something that we do in order to receive grace unto salvation and begin the sacramental life.  Occasionally I have gotten the unintentional negative nodding gesture.  I have heard from couples in mixed faith marriages that their baby will be christened now and then baptized as an adult if he or she chooses to do so.

I would never want to deny that grace is freely available in our world through belief and trust in Jesus Christ. I would never tell a Pentecostal that he or she has not received the Holy Spirit because of not having received Confirmation. However, if we approach the Sacraments without faith, without the belief that they offer us the fullness and certainty of grace, we are no better off—even less so—than those who deny the need for the Sacraments altogether.

Today, especially in the times and world in which we live, we might pray with St. Ephrem, "Teach us to find joy in your favor! Lord we have within us your memorial, received at your spiritual table; let us possess it in its full reality when all things shall be made new."

The Memorial of Mary Magdalene

As I was reflecting on the meaning of the Memorial of St. Mary Magdalene, I couldn't really help but consider the popular notions and the twists that modernity has placed on her life and person. What many, if not most, people commonly know about Mary Magdalene comes from the false ideas made popular by Dan Brown's novel The Da Vinci Code.

In terms of our faith, that is, in terms of our real-life relationship with God and the Church, and with one another and with the whole world, what does the life of Mary Magdalene stand to teach us? What do we stand to learn aside from the fantasy and unreality that the non-believing world has chosen to accept as truth? Certainly fantasy—in the sense of creative imagination—about Mary Magdalene is nothing new, as the Gnostic literature of Nag Hammadi reveals.

Even from a more orthodox historical point of view there has never been great agreement about Mary Magdalene, but there has certainly been plenty said—especially in consideration of the tradition that identifies her with Mary of Bethany, the sister of Martha and Lazarus. So what are we to think or believe? What is the lesson to be had?

I don't know that it matters all that much that we identify with certainty whether or not Mary Magdalene was the sister of Martha or whether she was the sinner who anointed the Lord's feet, as the painting above depicts. Putting the three together—Magdalene, the sister of Martha, and the sinner—has helped somewhat to fill in the unknowns. However, what is clear from Luke 8:2-3 is that Mary Magdalene experienced a great healing and exorcism in her life.

I suppose that the popular media would never accept the fact that Mary had been freed from seven demons, which is at least symbolic of a great depth of sin and despair, as one of the most important things we can know about her. However, I deeply believe that this is where we should put our attention.

The first reading today from Micah reveals God's great clemency:

Who is there like you, the God who removes guilt
and pardons sin for the remnant of his inheritance;
Who does not persist in anger forever,
but delights rather in clemency,
And will again have compassion on us,
treading underfoot our guilt?
You will cast into the depths of the sea
all our sins;
You will show faithfulness to Jacob,
and grace to Abraham,
As you have sworn to our fathers
from days of old.

It does us some good to consider the ideal of grace as made concrete in an individual person. Sure, throughout history there have been great conversions, but in many ways Mary Magdalene serves almost as a prototypical example of God's grace made concrete in a human being who had a great need to be forgiven. It also does us good to consider that such grace is made available by faith in, and love for, Jesus.

The gospel narrative today tells us the story of Mary Magdalene's being privileged to be the first person to witness the Resurrection of the Lord. It is penance come full circle. As I considered the Easter witness of Mary Magdalene, the thought crossed my mind that many people might prefer that the first witness of the Resurrection had been someone else—perhaps Peter or the disciple "whom Jesus loved" or even Mary his mother—yet the one who had this privilege above all these is the one out of whom went seven demons.

The idea of someone who had been trapped in the depths—perhaps unimaginably despairing—of sin having the grace to be the first to witness the resurrected Lord speaks deeply of the faith that we need more and more in our times. Indeed, I have long held that Mary Magdalene is the kind of individual that stands to say the most to us.

Years ago a wise priest told me in counseling after confession that I had a saint who had been praying for me long before I was born. He told me that someday I would know who this saint is. Perhaps, he told me, I would even come to have a special devotion to this particular saint. In some ways I think that Mary Magdalene might be that saint.

On more than one occasion I have had people write in and tell me that religion as presented in blogs and on the Internet fails to address the true struggle that most Christians experience in their lives. I don't have to think back too far to find places in my own life that cause me to say to myself, "Yes, I do know the struggles. I too have struggled and frequently continue to do so."

What Mary Magdalene shows us is that freedom from struggle is not something that is outside our reach. She shows us that faith stands to be perfected in sinners. It could be that we get things wrong when we associate faith only with the pious and godly saints who never doubted or felt trapped by addictions or alcoholism or who experienced the darkness of depression or never had acted in such a way to feel genuine regret.

Mary Magdalene speaks to us of grace. Her face is reflected in the convicted killer on his way to the death chamber; it shows in the eyes of the woman leaving the abortion clinic. Her struggling heart is one with every drunk and drug addict, with every man and woman exploited by pornography, and with every adulterous husband or wife—and even those who have abandoned, neglected, and harmed their own children are not beneath Mary Magdalene. Yet hers is the witness of grace. It is the witness that our Lord Jesus heals us, removes our demons, and invites us to partake in his Resurrection.

For Mary Magdalene's dignity and meaning to shine through we don't have to imagine her in some fantastic role of hidden power. We don't have to fantasize that she possessed the gnosis of salvation. She lived a common human life; she needed healing and forgiveness and she turned to the God who promised that such graceful love as to forgive the fullness of guilt would always be available.  In her real life experience, there is an abundance to which we people of the 21st century can and perhaps must relate.

New Rules on Criteria for Sainthood

VATICAN CITY, Feb. 18 (UPI) -- The Vatican Monday issued a new set of rules tightening criteria for declaring someone a saint in a move seen as a return to more traditional practices.

The 100-page document released instructs Catholic bishops to be tougher when deciding which candidates for sainthood can begin the official procedures leading to canonization, Italy's ANSA news agency reports.

Cardinal Jose Saraiva Martins, head of the Vatican's saints department, writes the new rules ask bishops to show "greater sobriety and rigor" when accepting requests to begin the first phase of the proceedings.

ANSA says in a recent interview Cardinal Martins hinted that under Pope John Paul II certain prospective saints were fast-tracked because they came from countries the pope was set to visit or countries that didn't have a saint.

A new set of rules was needed, Cardinal Martins said, "to respond better to the new spirit introduced by Benedict XVI."

Critics of Pope John Paul II said his approach had devalued sainthood in the eyes of the world.

Source

From Zenit:

In his remarks, [Cardinal Martins] explained that the aim of the document "is to contribute to ensuring that current norms for the diocesan inquiry of a cause of beatification and canonization are applied with ever greater care."

The instruction is divided into six sections. Cardinal Saraiva Martins noted the theme of each of them: "The first draws attention to the need for a true reputation of holiness before beginning a process...

Continue

For critics of the "fast track to sainthood," which has been witnessed in the recent past, this should come as a welcome return to greater consideration before moving ahead with the causes of sainthood, which also should avoid any possible mistakes of a too hasty approach.

The new rules seem to be a prudent move to a more traditional stance.   

On the Solemnity of St. Joseph, Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Last night, as I read Evening Prayer I of the Liturgy of the Hours for the Solemnity of St. Joseph, the short reading from Colossians spoke deeply to me regarding the significance of the occasion, as well as speaking on a personal level.  Certainly we should carry these words with us throughout each of our days:

Whatever you do, work at it with your whole being.  Do it for the Lord rather than for men, since you know full well you will receive an inheritance from him as your reward.  Be slaves of Christ the Lord.  Col. 3:23-24

For me the reading encapsulates what I think of whenever I hear the name of St. Joseph.  St. Joseph is the icon of everyone who works to support a family.  Ever since my conversion I've been told that St. Joseph is a powerful helper for families in need.  Certainly, we would do well to seek his intercession for us.

For anyone who has ever faced a difficult situation at work, or a difficult situation concerning his or her family, St. Joseph is the saint par excellence to whom we look for help.

There's also another side of looking to the patronage of St. Joseph, which the hymn provided in my volume of the Divine Office hinted at:

We venerate your justice, the gospels praise your name, you are the saint all humble, who gained eternal fame--

We look to the justice seen in St. Joseph in a time when work often does not provide for the minimal needs of families.  The injustices are glaring when we consider the inequity that exists in our world.  St. Joseph stands for all who have struggled to make ends meet, but even more he stands for those whose work fails to conform to the most meager of standards.  Thus, St. Joseph is the true patron of the worker.  It is he to whom we must look as we consider the needs of those loved ones our Lord has entrusted to us.

The justice of St. Joseph exemplifies the trust in God that we are to strive toward.  If ever there were a situation that tested one's ability to trust, St. Joseph faced it.  He chose, rather than listening to the voices around him, to trust what God had revealed to him; that is, he chose to trust in the holy and sanctifying providence of God.  He surrendered all his human will to the will and purposes of the Almighty.

As I prepared to retire to my room for the evening I caught a glimpse of a little icon that has hung on my bedroom wall since my first child was born.  It depicts a young looking Joseph with a little blond boy holding a cross that he fashioned from his daddy's wood scraps.  Many times my wife has reminded me that it is her favorite of my "holy pictures," which I've collected over the years and hung in various places around the house.  I know that what she expresses when she tells me that it is her favorite is something deeper than words--it's a fundamental relationship, one that marriage shows us clearly.  It is a communication of the depth that God chooses to have in the human exchange between spouses.  She looks to Joseph because she looks to Joseph in me--no less than many miracles have taken place in my life, in my family, because a greater power watched over us.

I must confess, I have not always seen St. Joseph in the light I now see him.  However, being a husband, a dad, and a worker brings me a little closer to him.  Facing doubt and uncertainty also brings St. Joseph into focus in my life.  No, there's not really any fear when we trust God--thankfully we have a wonderful model who is able to "direct our way to heaven.  St. Joseph, be our guide!"

Reflection on the Commemoration of St. Patrick

Who am I, Lord, and what is my calling, that you worked through me with such divine power? You did this so that today among the Gentiles I might constantly rejoice and glorify your name wherever I may be, both in prosperity and adversity. You did it so that, whatever happened to me, I might accept good and evil equally, always giving thanks to God. God showed me how to have faith in him forever, as one who is never to be doubted. From the Confession of St. Patrick

A great lesson is available for us in the words of St. Patrick: that we might rejoice and glorify God regardless of the situation; that we might accept with faith whatever comes our way. It is a lesson of trust. This Lent trusting in God has weighed heavily on my mind. Somehow I knew at the beginning of the season that trust would be thematic for me. However, I didn’t yet realize just how deeply and personally I would be called upon to trust in God. In fact, it became so relevant to me that I took many days away from writing here at my blog just to digest everything.

The season of Lent this year has been a time of difficult decision making. After a great deal of prayer and seeking the will of God in my life I decided not to return this August to the school district where I have worked for the past four years. Many factors influenced my choice. However, rather than pointing to specifics, allow me to say only that I found myself praying frequently regarding God’s will in my life concerning where I work, and I took it as a sign that I should be decisive in the matter. Therefore, my choice arose out of prayer and trusting that sometimes God asks us to do something risky—to dare to take a chance.

I doubt that St. Patrick knew much about what lay ahead of him when he chose to take up his mission to the people of Ireland. However, clearly he embarked trusting God and a great good came forth from the choice that he made. Still, we must balance risk and chance in life’s decisions with a determination to work in such a way that our actions please God. In my last post I intimated that the willingness to work can fill those areas of our lives where there is uncertainty or insecurity. Never should we fear the decisions we make providing that we meet them with a determination to work diligently to insure that the will of God comes to pass.

Someone recently asked me if I simply took my future on faith. Of course I replied negatively—faith alone simply won’t do. Our faith must be infused thoroughly with the willingness—the will—to act decisively time after time, and with the determination to work toward that end to which our faith directs us.

In our faith we find the ability to trust God entirely. Whatever happens we offer thanks to God for what we have, for God is the source of all we have. To be successful in our undertakings we trust, regardless of what lies ahead, and we go on giving thanks to God as we work to see his will come to pass in our lives.