Lk 1:39-56 The Assumption

Lk 1:39-56  The Assumption

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Mary said, “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my Savior for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant.” 

Often, I hear people tell me that they have a hard time relating to Mary.  I agree with them.  This morning, I was having a hard time as well.  But then I thought to myself, what exactly do I have a hard time relating to?

Just a few days ago, I went to see a couple of movies with some friends.  First, I went to see Bourne Legacy.  This movie was packed with death, murder, lies, chasing scenes, fighting scenes, personal (internal) struggles, commitment, love, betrayal, and intrigue.  The movie ended the good old fashion way:  good triumphing over evil and the hero relaxing with the woman he loves.  I liked it.

Then I went to see Total Recall.  Again, this futuristic movie was jammed pack with war, terror, death, a ton of  running, fights scenes, human (internal) tragedies, struggles, betrayal, love and intrigue.  It too concluded the good old fashion way:  with good triumphing over evil and the hero embracing the woman he loves.      

In both movies, the heroes shared something in common:  some sort of amnesia.  What is interesting is that neither hero ever forgot how to fight.  If we find it hard to relate to these types of movies, it isn’t because we don’t have struggles or difficulties in our life; rather, it’s because we’ve forgotten how to fight.

If we have a hard time relating to Mary, it’s not because she lived the perfect life; it’s not because she didn’t have any struggles or difficulties or even betrayals to overcome.  Rather, it’s because we have forgotten how to fight for someone or something that is worth dying for.  

Mary was a fighter.  She knew what it would take to overcome, overpower, and outsmart the evil plans of Herod, Pontius Pilate, the Roman Empire, the Jewish authorities.  She knew what it would take to overcome Joseph’s death, her son’s arrest, crucifixion and death.  She knows it takes her unconditional, real, sincere, hard working heart pumping prayers of love towards her Son and God to save the world.

Mary was a fighter.  Why?  Because everything mattered; everything except for prestige, titles, honors and false glories.  She was more than ready to get down on her knees before ever expecting to be lifted up.

This is our problem.  Not only have we forgotten what it takes (and therefore can’t relate) to be lifted up, but we have also forgotten what matters most:  not my glory, but God’s glory.

Not only do we get furious when we are not recognized for the little we have done, but we want it all without a struggle!       

Parents want their children to be perfect.  Teachers want the perfect children.  Blessed are the moms and dads and teachers that have the imperfect, the crazy, the totally human and defective children.  Blessed are the meek and humble of heart, for they will be exalted! 

Now, if you happen to have the “perfect” children, then I’m sure the Lord will be blessed with next door neighbors that have wild kids!  And if you happened to have the “perfect” classroom last year, then I am sure you will have the “crazy” classroom this year (or at least crazy parents to deal with)!

The struggles, the trials and difficulties you experience with your children are the best way – the perfect way - to show them how much you love them.  Tribulations are the perfect reminders that you cannot do it alone.  They are the perfect road signs that lead us to prayer and sacrifice. 

In every single apparition in which Mary appears, her message is always the same: “Come back to my son”.  Translated, this means, come back to reality; come back to what is important; come back to your senses. 

We would all like a Christ without a Cross, but let’s not forget the two go together.  Something worthy of dying for leads us all the way to glory and our final resting place.

Mt 11:28-30 Come To Me

Mt 11:28-30  Come To Me

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Jesus said:  “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.”

Come to me.  This morning, after reading the Gospel, I asked myself the question:  How does one come to the Lord?  What does “come to me” mean?  Immediately the word trust came to me.  To come to the Lord means to trust in the Lord:  Speak as I speak, live as I live, forgive as I forgive, love as I love, do as I do. 

Come to me all you who are burdened.  Why do I feel so overburdened?  Why do I feel the weight of the world upon my shoulders?  Why do I end the day totally exhausted and in fear?  Again, almost immediately, this thought came to me:  Because you are trying to play God.   Yes, that’s it! It’s true.  I’m trying to be God and I am failing miserably.  I can’t keep up.  I can’t do it all.  I can’t keep thinking about the past, what will happen in the future, and what I will do about it all.  I can’t!  I’m tired.  “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.” 

I must trust in the Lord.  I must imitate the Lord, not replace Him.  I understand: there is a God and I am not Him.  Be meek and humble of heart. 

I am not here to say to you that what I have written above is easy to do.  Of course not!  It’s not easy to let go and allow the Lord to take control.  We all face difficult choices to make.  But the Lord is inviting us to choose Him.  If we want to play it safe, then the Lord invites us to play it safe with Him.  If we commit an error in giving up too much to Him, then He is invites us to err on His side. 

It happens far more often than we would like to think.  It’s not easy to have a child.  I know many who were blessed with many children.  I know some who were blessed with no children.  Sometimes those with many are criticized by those with a few.  Sometimes those with a few are criticized by those with many.  What’s important to remember is that all are blessed when all trust in the Lord. 

There’s no need to fight over that!

Tragedy will always strike when we choose to play God; when I place an enormous burden and a unbearable yoke around my neck.  That’s when I will feel like I am being choked to death.

Many years ago, as a seminarian, I met a couple that had two kids.  After the birth of their second child, they decided they were done.  Not too long after that, they lost one child in a terrible - freak - accident.  [Their grandfather ran over him while backing up in the driveway].  The couple was racked with guilt and burdened with doubts.  They asked me if the Lord had done this to them because of the decision they had made.  What was I going to tell them?  Could I speak for the Lord?  Could I put words in His mouth?  Could I be absolutely sure of what I was going to say?  I don’t know how I did it, but I did not tell them what I wanted to tell them.  Instead, I told them the truth.  I said, “I don’t know.” 

Over the years these types of heartbreaking stories have repeated themselves over and over again. 

But over the years I have learned something.  I’ve learned it myself and I’ve learned it the hard way:  If I want to play God, then I must be ready to go all the way; that is, I must be prepared to raise the dead.  Go ahead, raise the dead! 

If not, then take comfort:  Don’t play God.