Ash Wednesday and Evangelization
A mom once told me that her four-year-old came home from school on Ash Wednesday with ashes on his forehead. When she asked, “Who gave them to you?” he said, “God.” “And what did God look like?” she asked. “Well, he wore a purple dress and had white hair,” the boy responded. Ash Wednesday and Palm Sunday are said to be the two days most Catholics go to church— because they get something.
The tradition of being marked with a cross on Ash Wednesday is longstanding. (Remember how in the book of Jonah even the livestock wore ashes as a sign they repented?) In the old days, ashes on Ash Wednesday was a reminder that we will die someday, so we better shape up during Lent. Today the person administering the ashes is likely to say, “Go and be faithful to the Gospel.” We are sent to witness to the Gospel, and all those who are marked with the black cross (or smudge) are witnessing to their faith in Jesus. Some people wash the mark off right away. My friend, who is a clerk in a supermarket, dared to keep hers on at work. She wasn’t sure if it was an infraction of the dress code or not. Her boss said nothing about it. But the people who came through her aisle did. Whenever someone asked about the mark on her forehead, she had an opportunity to share her faith.
Of course, outward signs like ashes are not the important thing. Jesus scolded the Pharisees for the wide phylacteries on their foreheads and their long tassels. Why? Because their actions contradicted what they purportedly stood for. How great it would be if we attracted attention not because of our ashes, crucifixes, religious tattoos, or veils, but because of our good deeds, our kindness, our generosity, our bravery. Those of us who are not so much Gospel (good news) people as bad news now have six weeks to work on a complete makeover.
What can you do this Lent to witness to Jesus by your actions?
God of Surprises
Long ago a woman sent me a letter in which she shared a thought-provoking experience. She said that one day in church she was overcome with sadness and began to cry. To her distress, she discovered that she didn’t have a single tissue with her. She turned to the woman seated beside her, a stranger, and asked if she had a Kleenex she could have. The pew partner opened her purse and took out a lovely lace handkerchief. She handed it to the weeping woman and said, “Keep it.” This incident led the woman to reflect on times when she asked God for just a “Kleenex” and he gave her a “lace handkerchief.” (more…)
Bearing Wrongs as a Work of Mercy
Every so often something you’ve heard a hundred times strikes you as never before. This happened to me last Sunday during a homily. The priest was naming the works of mercy. When, in listing the spiritual works, he said, “Bear wrongs patiently,” I took notice. “That’s an odd work of mercy,” I thought. On reflecting more, I realized that it was a way of being merciful. When someone hurts our feelings or acts unjustly to us, our first impulse is self-defense. We want to retaliate. It’s the old eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth mentality. If we are not just Christian in name only, however, we respond with mercy for the person who out out hatred, jealousy or sheer stupidity has inflicted pain on us.
This is the way of Jesus, who preached, “When someone strikes you on one cheek, offer the other.” He gave us an example by enduring his torture and execution silently when he could have blasted the perpetrators off the face of the earth. The saints are also models in bearing wrongs, sometimes to an extreme degree. One that stands out is St. Joseph of Calasanz, the founder of the Piarists. Wealthy people protested his free schools. Then members of his own community campaigned against him. After complaints reached the pope, Joseph was arrested at the age of 86 and tried before the Holy Office. His work and his community were stopped, but St. Joseph never stopped protecting and defending his persecutors. His order was restored twenty years after his death. More recently we have the example of Cardinal Joseph Bernardin, who patiently suffered being falsely accused of sexual abuse and forgave his accuser. Another example is St. Julie Billiart, the foundress of the Sisters of Notre Dame, put up with untold harassment and persecution by clergy. This did not keep her from forging ahead and doing what God had called her to do.
Today Father Tom asked, “What if the man who was bothered by the guy texting during a movie had turned the other cheek instead of shooting him? What if the man offended by loud music coming from the teenagers’ car had turned the other cheek instead of killing a youth?” What if the driver cut off by another car had turned the other cheek instead of shooting a father in front of his children? The list could go on.
Bearing wrongs patiently is also a way of being merciful to ourselves: It frees us from becoming vengeful monsters.
Can you think of another outstanding model of bearing wrongs patiently?
Presenting Jesus to Others
Gospel-Based Prayer
You could say that The Fisherman’s Wife, my first novel, was a novel experience for me. I became so engrossed in the people and happenings in Capernaum that when I left the computer, I didn’t know if it was morning, noon, or night! That never happened when I wrote other books. My heroine, Peter’s wife, and her exploits were imagined, of course, because we know absolutely nothing about this woman. Yet, we do know what she must have witnessed because the Gospels tell us that Jesus stayed at her house. As I brought her to life and told the story through her eyes, I felt that I really got to know the people in the Gospels, in particular the Lord himself.
This writing experience called to mind a method of praying that I learned long ago. There are three steps.
1. Read a Gospel story and as you read, imagine the scene vividly as though you were watching a movie.
2. Rewrite the story in the first person. You are an eyewitness. Remark on the weather, people’s expressions, and what you see, hear, taste, feel, and smell. State what you are thinking as the plot unfolds.
3. At the conclusion of the Gospel story, extend it by arranging a situation where you and Jesus are alone together. Maybe you are sitting on a rock with him, walking along a beach, or drifting in a boat under a starlit sky. Then write the dialogue for the two of you. Refer to the event that just occurred. Tell Jesus what you think of it. In your conversation link the event to your own life, for example, what is happening, how you are feeling, or your relationship with God. Write the responses Jesus makes to you.
I once used the story of Jesus healing the woman who snuck up and touched the hem of his cloak. In our conversation afterward, Jesus and I talked about my fear in learning to drive, how difficult it is to trust him when he is invisible, and my hopes that he would heal me of a bad habit.
Some benefits of praying this way:
• You become more familiar with the Gospel stories and delve more deeply into them.
• You come to know yourself better. In the words of author E.M. Forster: “How do I know what I think until I see what I say?”
• You encounter Jesus and through your pen he says things that may surprise you!
If your prayer life is routine and dull and you are looking for something to jumpstart it, try this method. Or why not write a novel about a person in the Bible?
After trying out this prayer method, what did you think of it?
