On Father’s Day this year, I failed to send a card to my dad and it was my mom who made it abundantly clear she was not happy. A few years ago, the unhappiness was about a missed card on her birthday. Most times, a phone call to one or both parent saved the moment and softened the unintended hurt.
Some would say, “What’s the fuss? It’s just a card! It usually ends up in the clutter pile anyways.” True. But apparently for a lot of people, it’s more than just a piece of card stock with sentimental writings inside; it’s a tangible sign of love, friendship and care for another human being. Whether it is people or a thing (such as a greeting card), all are blessings from God. He is the source of those blessings and it surely pleases Him when we praise and thank Him.
I am sure many of us who call ourselves Catholic Christians are serious about our walk with Christ. We try to do good and avoid evil. We try to faithfully follow God’s commandments and the teachings of His one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. We try to be as generous as we can with our time, talent, and treasure. Yet, in all our striving for virtue and for holiness of life, Jesus makes it very clear the requirements of true discipleship: “whoever loves father or mother more than me … loves son or daughter more than me … does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me” (Matt. 10:37-38).
We all belong to a family. For better or for worse. As kids, we were taught that family was the priority. We would push aside everything else in our lives for little Joey’s Little League game, for little Maggie’s ballet recital, for the birth of a grandchild, etc. Love was, and will always be, the motivation. Understandably, those words from our Lord can be tough for many of us. He says if our love for another human being is greater than our love for Him, then we are not worthy of Him. Does He mean we need to abandon those close to us in order to follow Him? No. It means we should continue to love those close to us (and all others for that matter), but to love them like He does. Because that is who God is: He is love. It is His nature to love. No strings attached. Unconditional. No ifs, ands, or buts. And when we love, we are “begotten by God and (know) God” (Jn 4:7).
To love as God loves is a choice. It is a radical decision. It is a love that lays down one’s life for another. It is a love that puts self last and others first. Is it easy and pretty? No and yes. No, because our human inclination is to satisfy self first. Yes, because God will give us every supernatural grace we need, but only if we cooperate with Him.
In my house, one of my least favorite tasks is washing the dishes. By hand. Once upon a time, that task was a nightly battleground. Until I learned it was a golden opportunity to imitate St. Thérèse of Lisieux’s “little way” of spiritual childhood. She advocated to her sisters in the Carmelite convent to do small, ordinary deeds with extraordinary love. The language of love here says, “you are worthy and I will endure anything for love of you.” When we choose to love like God does, that is the message we send to Him. As the incarnate Son of God, Jesus saw love demonstrated and lived out when He was the Christ Child in the home of Mary and Joseph. It was especially most exemplified at His Crucifixion. And at Pentecost, Christ gave us His Church to carry on His mission of selfless love and service.
Jesus gave us the sacraments in the Catholic Church as visible signs of a supernatural reality. The outward sign of the sacraments that He instituted points to the hidden: the gift of God’s grace. His grace has the power to illuminate and soften cold and hardened hearts. It has the power to put His words on our lips. It has the power to transform our dead spirit into a spirit of zeal and fervor. The waters of Baptism, the laying on of hands at Confirmation and Holy Orders, the words of absolution in the sacrament of Reconciliation, the anointing of the sick and dying, the love between husband and wife in the sacrament of Matrimony that points to the love of Christ for His Bride (the Church). But the best of all? It is the gift of Jesus Himself in the sacrament of Eucharist. Veiled under Bread and Wine, He is truly and substantially present.
During holy Communion recently, I had a profound encounter of Jesus’ presence that led me to reflect on the very issue of worthiness. Up until this point, I had, sadly, taken the sacraments for granted. Was I worthy of His love? Where was I in my discipleship walk with the Lord? There was an unmistakable nudging in my heart the very moment when the priest elevated the Host and echoed Jesus’ words “this is my body” at holy Communion. I gazed longingly at the humble bread and wine to be consecrated and it suddenly hit me: with all my shortcomings and imperfections as a human being, was I truly worthy to receive Jesus in His Body and Blood? After all, my sins nailed Him to the Cross!
Then came the prayer we would recite just before going up for holy Communion.
“Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” This passage is about the Roman centurion who knew he could never measure up to Jesus’ greatness and power, and he humbly asked Jesus for healing of his own servant (Matt. 8:5-13).
Reflecting on that, the Roman centurion had the courage to invite Jesus for His healing touch. How about myself? Do I have the same courage to invite Jesus to heal the wounds of my heart? The Lord always welcomed me for communion and fellowship in His house (the Church); have I welcomed Him fully into my “house” (the roof of my heart)? Am I holding anything back?
Jesus exemplified from the Cross that all of us are worth dying for. He heals and restores us to wholeness by extending His mercy and forgiveness in the sacrament of Reconciliation, and sustains and nourishes our souls in the Eucharist. Oh yes, we will walk in His good graces and will fall on our faces again and again, but He will never abandon us. Divine love propels us to get up and keep going. He is the Vine and we are His branches. We are to abide in Him, for “whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing” (Jn 15:5). Despite our sinfulness, He keeps inviting us back. In moments of feeling unworthy, may we have the courage to call on the Lord to enter fully into the roof of our hearts so that our souls may be healed.
Photo by Brandon Morgan on Unsplash
