Welcome to PINS OF LIGHT!

Today's Readings

A TV spot from the "Foundation for A Better Life" tells a sad and familiar story:  A new girl looks tentatively around a crowded school cafeteria, food tray in hand.  After what feels like an eternity, she spots an empty seat and finds the courage to join a group of girls her age.  "Would it be okay if I sat here?" she asks.  All it takes is a look, and the new girl knows:  She is an intruder, an outsider, a leper. The group rises as one and leaves her quite abruptly alone with her food tray.

Today's gospel today is about rejection.  Our Lord's parable isn't about some pretty violent tenants.  Each time the landowner sends a servant to collect from them, the tenants either beat up the servant or stone and kill him.  Finally, the landowner decides to send them his own son, saying, “They will respect my son.”  Well, famous last words. The tenants make no hesitation: They grab the landowner’s son and murder him, too.  The parable ends with a threat that the landowner will not let their crimes pass:  He will put them to death and take the land away from them.

It's easy to recognize that parable is about our Lord and that it tells how he was not only rejected by his own people, but also put to death just like the landowner’s son. 

We all know about rejection, don’t we?  We’re no stranger to it simply because we’ve all experienced some form of it in one way or another.  Rejection doesn’t just mean people disagree with what we say.  It’s easy to take it when people simply don’t agree with our views, or even when they don’t like what we say.   That’s not really rejection.  Rejection is much more personal.  We feel rejected when people don’t accept us, or do things that tell us:  You're not good enough! 

Even acts that are simply symbolic can hurt us or anger us—as in a recent controversial incident, when names were written on wood that was thrown into a bonfire.  But it doesn’t have to be through action.  Words can be just as powerful.  As bestselling author Robert Fulghum wrote somewhere, “Sticks and stones may break our bones, but words will break our heart.”  It’s true, isn’t it?  Especially if the hurtful words come from people whose opinion and approval matter much to us.  All it takes is one word from such a person, and it can ruin our day—or worse, damage our self-esteem, sometimes for good.

We cope with rejection in different ways.  The first is instinctive:  counter-rejection.  If you reject me, I’ll reject you too.  If you don’t like me, I’m not going to like you too!  In other words, tit for tat!  When you think about it, reacting this way can be a dangerous thing because our actions and reactions can easily lead to a vicious cycle of ever deeper hurts.

But not everyone reacts that way.  Others deal with rejection more quietly--but also--I think--more dangerously.  Some of us, as a result of feeling rejected, choose to take our cue from what others say:  We believe them and decide to reject ourselves too.  Either we change ourselves in an effort to secure the approval of others, or when we can’t, we wallow in helpless self-pity, disliking ourselves.  In other words, we deal with rejection through self-revision or self-rejection.  Not at all helpful because if we do succeed in revising ourselves, we end up losing ourselves, and if we fail, we end up hating ourselves. It's a no-win situation.

In the parable—and in his own life, the Lord suffers the ultimate rejection:  He is killed by his own people, the very people he is trying so hard to reach.  But as usual, our Lord shows us how we ought to deal with rejections.  He does not reject those who reject him.  He doesn't do what the parable threatens to do:  He doesn't get back at the people who reject him--but neither does he reject himself.  He doesn't let what people say and do define him or, in this case, reduce him, as we are so often tempted to do.  To look beyond what people say and do, to refuse to let them define us requires a deep self-knowledge and self-love.  As Christina Aguilera's song "Beautiful" says in the video:  "We are beautiful no matter what they say. Words won't bring me down."

The Lord also does not revise his message just to secure the approval of people, as we are also so often tempted to do.  The Lord does not, as it were, coat the pill with sugar just to make us agree to swallow it.  Instead the Lord accepts his rejection and embraces its consequences.  But at the same time, he also builds on it.   He uses his suffering to teach us in a way more powerful than any other about God’s love and mercy.  And from the ruins of his rejected body, he has rebuilt his mission of redeeming sinners and saving the world.  Indeed as the Scripture says, “The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.”

The Lord seems to be telling us that when we suffer rejection, we can still use it to do something good and to become someone better.  That's the mystery and the wonder of God's work in us--he transforms the most bitter experiences to make us better--if we choose to cooperate with his grace. Of course, as the TV spot shows, seeing others suffer rejection is also an occasion to bring out the best in us as well, an invitation to offer acceptance when it is most needed.  It sometimes takes so little, but often means so much.

And so here's a Quick Question for you:  How did you deal with the last rejection you experienced?  Did you yield to instinct and counter-reject, self-revise, or self-reject?  Or did you, by God's grace, respond as the Lord would--accept the rejection but transform the experience to something redemptive for yourself or others?

(Image from the Philippine Daily Inquirer)

Note:  Below is the TV spot called "Cafeteria" from the Foundation for A Better Life.

Today's Readings

In his book What’s So Amazing about Grace? Philip Yancey talks about an interesting article that came out in The Boston Globe back in June 1990.  The article, which was called “A Most Unusual Wedding Party,” tells the story of a wedding—or at least what was supposed to be a wedding.  Everything had been prepared, including the expensive wedding ring.  Months before the wedding, the bride and the groom-to-be planned a great reception.  The couple had gone to the Hyatt Hotel in downtown Boston and painstakingly picked out the menu, the china and silver, and even the flower arrangements that they liked.  The bill came to $13,000, and for something like that, they had to leave a 50% down payment.

The next few months were spent on ironing out the remaining one thousand and one details:  the immaculately-white wedding cake, the limousine, and of course, last-minute finishing touches on the wedding gown.  Everyone was so excited.

Then the day the invitations were about to be sent out, the groom-to-be suddenly got cold feet and told his fiancée that he really wasn’t sure if he was ready.  To make a long story short, the wedding was canceled, and the woman, our potential bride, as expected, was upset. 

To make matters worse, her ex-fiance disappeared altogether from the scene, leaving her the painful task of canceling all previous arrangements, including the wedding party.  As if things were not bad enough, when she went to the Hyatt to cancel the reception, the Events Manager shook her head sympathetically and told her, “The contract is binding.  You’re only entitled to $1,300 back.  You have two options:  to forfeit the rest of the down payment, or go ahead with the banquet.  I’m sorry.”

Guess what the bride decided to do?  She decided to go ahead with the party—not a wedding party, of course, but a big blow-out.  She had the wild notion of inviting not her family and friends, but the poor people of Boston just because!  So she invited the aging from the nursing homes—and still not content with that, she also sent out invitations to rescue missions and homeless shelters!  Her friends, of course, thought she had gone out of her mind. “Are you crazy?” they told her, “throwing a party that’s free for all?!”  “Yup,” she quipped, “all in honor of the groom.”

And so in June of 1990, the Hyatt Hotel in downtown Boston hosted a party unlike any other held there before.  The homeless came; the elderly were wheeled in from their nursing homes.  People who were used to picking up half-gnawed pizza from trash bins feasted instead on chicken cordon bleu.  Hyatt waiters in tuxedos served champagne to senior citizens in wheelchairs and aluminum walkers.  Bag ladies, drug addicts, and beggars took the night off from the streets of downtown Boston, relished the wedding cake, and danced in the most unusual wedding party of all.

I don’t know about you, but this true story sounds suspiciously like today's parable when the king who wanted to throw a big party got regrets for RSVPs from his original guests and decided instead to invite "whomever they could find" in the streets until the party hall was filled with guests--"bad and good alike."

What does the Lord mean by the parable?  I don’t think he expects us to literally spend money and throw a party for people we don’t know—although if we did that like the bride in our story, we would certainly bring so much joy to people who have become strangers to joy.   But I think there are two lessons we can draw from the gospel, and we can get the lesson depending on whom we identify with in the story.

If we identify with the party host, the king who throws the party, then our Lord is teaching us to give authentically--i.e., to share what we have, not only with our family and friends because that’s the easy part, not only with people we know or people we like, but people we don’t know because they are the people who need what we have to share.   The real meaning of sharing—perfect sharing—is giving what we have to people who need our help and who can’t give anything to us back in return.  This is authentic giving and perfect sharing—because there are no strings attached.  Ours is simply not an exclusive kind of God!

But we can find yet another message in the story if we take the perspective of the party guests.  When we really think about it, we are very much the guests who can’t believe our good fortune in being invited to God’s extravagant banquet of life.  Don't you sometimes feel like our names have somehow strayed into the guest list?  We, all of us, have done nothing to deserve the invitation, but by God’s mercy and grace, here we are, enjoying his blessings and his generosity!  Our Lord, who is the Groom of the Banquet, wants us—even us sinners and yes, especially us sinners—to be part of his celebration.

I think that is the most important lesson of all:  That against our every expectation, God’s love comes to us free of charge, with no strings attached, yes, even and especially to us who don’t deserve it.  And only when we realize this can we in turn give authentically and share perfectly and transform our lives into a party where everyone too is invited.

Here's a Quick Question for you:  "How do you feel about straying into God's guest list--i.e., being a recipient of this undeserved gift of his love?  What do you think can we do in return for this?"  Think about it, and if you feel up to it, share a thought, a feeling, or a question.

(image:  partyguideonline.com)

Today's Readings

In today's Gospel reading, our Lord utters his famous line:  "Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and repay to God what belongs to God."  At first glance, he seems to be proposing a division between our usual lives and our so-called spiritual lives.  Sort of like Sunday Christianity, when people act like Christians only when they go to Sunday services.  As for the rest of the week, they act "normally"--that is, not in any particularly religious or even moral way.

Based on that famous line, our Lord can also be just as easily misinterpreted as advocating some kind of "shopping list" or "cafeteria" Catholicism, a term that refers to the widespread phenomenon among Catholics who pick from the Church's list of teachings what they would like to follow and apply in their lives.  The rest of the teachings?  Well, never mind...

Upon more careful reflection, we can't help but wonder if this is really what the Lord means.  Many of us would like to think so since it's certainly a more convenient way of living out our faith.  But if we know the Lord, we are probably a bit suspicious, to say th eleast.  He has, after all, been known to be quite demanding, hasn't he?

Here's my guess:  Maybe the Lord isn't asking us to take him literally.  Far from telling us to compartmentalize our lives, maybe the Lord is telling us precisely the opposite:  What, after all, is God's?  What belongs to him?  When we think about it, doesn't everything--all that we have and all that we are--in fact, belong to him?  So when the Lord says, "Render unto Caesar's what is Caesars, and unto God what is God's," could he be challenging us precisely to recognize this most demanding of truths--that everything belongs to God, and everything, therefore, ought to be rendered--offered, consecrated, dedicated, repaid--to him?

Many of us may rush in and agree enthusiastically:  Of course everything we have and everything we are belong to the Lord!  And of course we should then offer and repay everything to him!

Not so fast!  When we talk about repaying or rendering to the Lord what is his, it doesn't simply mean making a mental note that everything belongs to him.  Neither does it simply entail paying lip service to it--you know, beginning or ending each day by praying, "Well, Lord, as you already know, I offer everything to you!"  Rather, as the poll at the beginning of this blog hints at, rendering to the Lord means actually making decisions and taking action according to what God wills.  In other words, if you really want to estimate how much of your life you are dedicating to the Lord, examine the decisions you have made and the actions you have taken.  Making every decision and taking every action according to the Lord's will is a little bit more complex and a little bit more difficult than intending or desiring to do so, to say the least.  It takes determination, and based on my own experience, a lot of prayer and practice.

So here's a Quick Question for you:  "If you wish today to take that first step towards 'rendering everything to God', what would that one small first step be?  It may mean starting something, stopping it, or continuing something that you've already begun.  Think about it, and if you feel up to it, share a thought, a feeling, or even a question.

Today's Readings

Singer/songwriter Howie Day has a couple of great lines in his 2003 hit, "Collide": 

Even the best fall down sometimes. 
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme.

Never mind the rest of the song--which, of course, is a love song--but I think those two lines capture something pretty basic in our lives:  Sometimes even the best of us can screw things up!

So tell me, what was the Lord thinking when he said what he did in today's Gospel reading?  When a scholar asked him about the "greatest commandment," his response was a quote from the Scripture--a text as impossible as it was poetic:  "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind." 

How do you love someone you can't even be sure exists? 

Just the other day I met up with a former student, a bright young man who had suffered a terrible tragedy in his life about eight years ago.  I was happy to see that he had managed to survive that crisis in his life without any bitterness.  Yet I was also bewildered and saddened to learn that he had stopped believing in God.  We discussed this a little bit, but as we know, it's hard to converse with people about belief or unbelief because it really all boils down not at all to reason, but to choice.  No amount of proof is going to convince anyone to believe--or for that matter, not to believe--in God.

So if it's so tough to believe in God, how on earth can we love him with "all our heart, mind, and soul?" 

I don't know the answer to that one.  All I know is that it requires at least two things:  First, it requires hard work on our part.  Learning to love God with all our heart, mind, and soul means we need a lot of practice in order to become good at it.  This means simply loving God even if at times we don't feel up to it.  We believe that God's presence is everywhere, but we don't always have a sense of his presence.  In other words, we should speak, think, and act as if we love him even if all that we are experiencing is God's absence.  What can be more difficult than that?

But loving God with our entire being also requires one other thing:  God's grace.  Only with his help can we actually fall in love with him entirely.  And as Frederich Buechner, one of my favorite authors, once wrote, when the Lord Jesus said, "You shall love God with all your heart, with all your mind, and with all your soul," he wasn't just issuing a command.  He was also making a promise.

With hard work and God's grace, someday we will love him with our entire being.

Here's a Quick Question for you:  "In which area do you most need God's help in loving him?  In your heart, in your mind, or in your soul?  Why?"

Note:  Below are the lyrics of Howie Day's "Collide"--as well as a live, acoustic performance I found on YouTube.  If you want to watch the original version in the original music video, click here.




COLLIDE
(Howie Day)

The dawn is breaking
A light shining through
You're barely waking
And I'm tangled up in you

When I'm open, you're closed
Where I follow, you'll go
I worry I won't see your face
Light up again

Even the best fall down sometimes
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme
Out of the doubt that fills my mind
I somehow find
You and I collide

I'm quiet, you know
You make a first impression
I've found I'm scared to know I'm always on your mind

Even the best fall down sometimes
Even the stars refuse to shine
Out of the back you fall in time
I somehow find
You and I collide
Don't stop here I've lost my place I'm close behind

Even the best fall down sometimes
Even the wrong words seem to ryhme
Out of the doubt that fills your mind
You finally find
You and I collide
You finally find
You and I collide
You finally find
You and I collide