58. Ocean of Mercy (Mt 18:21-35)

“O Christian, be aware of your nobility – it is God’s own nature that you share; do not then, by an ignoble life, fall back into your former baseness.”

- Pope St Leo the Great

Matthew 18:21-35

Then Peter went up to him and said, ‘Lord, how often must I forgive my brother if he wrongs me? As often as seven times?’ Jesus answered, ‘Not seven, I tell you, but seventy-seven times.

‘And so the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who decided to settle his accounts with his servants. When the reckoning began, they brought him a man who owed ten thousand talents; but he had no means of paying, so his master gave orders that he should be sold, together with his wife and children and all his possessions, to meet the debt. At this, the servant threw himself down at his master’s feet. Give me time he said and I will pay the whole sum. And the servant’s master felt so sorry for him that he let him go and canceled the debt. Now as this servant went out, he happened to meet a fellow servant who owed him one hundred denarii; and he seized him by the throat and began to throttle him. Pay what you owe me he said. His fellow servant fell at his feet and implored him, saying, Give me time and I will pay you. But the other would not agree; on the contrary, he had him thrown into prison till he should pay the debt. His fellow servants were deeply distressed when they saw what had happened, and they went to their master and reported the whole affair to him. Then the master sent for him. You wicked servant, he said I canceled all that debt of yours when you appealed to me. Were you not bound, then, to have pity on your fellow servant just as I had pity on you? And in his anger the master handed him over to the torturers till he should pay all his debt. And that is how my heavenly Father will deal with you unless you each forgive your brother from your heart.’

Christ the Lord

This passage immediately follows Jesus’ instructions to his Twelve about being good shepherds. That instruction took place in a small gathering after a full day of ministry. One can imagine the disciples discussing it. Possibly, one of the many quarrels among them arose as their discussion turned upon how many times they should go after the same sheep if it keeps wandering away. Rabbinic teaching at the time placed the limit of forgiveness at three times – a fourth offense was not to be forgiven. Perhaps Peter was proposing a reform of this custom in light of Christ’s lesson, while some of the others were sticking to the traditional view, and so he brought it to the Lord to settle the question. That was the right thing to do. The buck stops with Jesus. He is the Lord; he is the final word God has spoken to us. In him we have the answers we need for every dilemma we face. Like Peter, we should bring our questions to the Lord in prayer; we should cast the light of the Church’s teachings on our moral and intellectual quandaries. And, also like Peter, we should accept Christ’s solution.

Christ the Teacher

In Christ, God offers us forgiveness of a debt we could never pay – the debt of sin. But when we refuse to forgive the little offenses others cause us, we handcuff God’s mercy and put ourselves under strict justice. Previously, Christ pointed out, “For as you judge, so will you be judged, and the measure with which you measure will be measured out to you” (Matthew 7:2). This is the way God has found to unfurl his mercy without compromising his justice; he leaves each person free to choose between the two.

But this lesson is hard for us to learn. We tend to resent not only willful offenses, but also innocent mistakes. Whenever someone else causes us even a tiny inconvenience, we can easily lash out at the offender. This is especially the case close to home – we often have less patience with our siblings, parents, spouses, children, or roommates than we do with strangers and acquaintances.

In this parable, as in the Our Father, Jesus gives us the secret to forming a patient, forgiving heart. It consists in recognizing the immense evil of our own sin, and thereby perceiving the vastness of God’s goodness in forgiving it. Until we see the ugliness of the ingratitude and selfishness that characterize our relationship with God, we will never grasp how generous his forgiveness really is. When we do, however, our shriveled hearts expand, and our joyful patience knows no bounds.

Christ the Friend

This brilliant parable rightly convicts us of our repulsive self-righteousness, but we should not therefore overlook its illustration of Christ’s magnanimity. Jesus himself is the King who forgives the “huge amount.” In the Greek text, this amount is quantified as 10,000 talents – an unimaginable, astronomical quantity of money. Likewise, Christ’s compassion exceeds even the malice of his own murderers: “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do,” he spoke from the cross (Luke 23:34).

Jesus: You can count on my forgiveness. You just need to do what this servant did: kneel down before me and ask for it. I know that sometimes it’s hard for you to accept this forgiveness; your pride keeps you from forgiving yourself, so you hold my forgiveness at arm’s length, or you doubt it. I don’t want you to doubt my forgiveness. I want you to be absolutely sure. This is why I made it tangible in the sacrament of reconciliation. When you come to me through the ministry of my chosen, ordained priest, you actually hear my own words speaking through his voice: “I absolve you from your sins….”  I invented this wonderful gift just for you, just so I could flood the depths of your misery with the ocean of my mercy.

Christ in My Life

It amazes me to think that I can always come to you; I can always ask you a question; you are always available. You never cease thinking of me. Like Peter, I can turn to you to resolve my doubts. Why do I turn to you so infrequently? Why do I forget about your presence, your guidance, your passionate interest in my life?

Forgiveness is harder for me in some cases than others. Some people who have wounded me really don’t deserve to be forgiven, Lord. And yet, you offer your forgiveness to them. Why, then, do I resist? Free me from this snare of the devil. Teach me to forgive, no matter how I feel. Refresh my embittered heart. You love even those who have offended me terribly, and you can turn them into saints…

Thank you for putting no limits on how much you would forgive me. Thank you for continuing to assure me of your forgiveness through confession. There is no hesitancy in your love for me, no holding back, no tinge of self-seeking. Why don’t I trust you more? Jesus, teach me to trust you more…

Yours in Christ, Father John Bartunek, LC, Ph.d.

Why would the Church recommend that we meditate on such horrible things as hell and the last judgment?

Q: Dear Father Joseph, why would the Church recommend that we meditate on such horrible things as hell and the last judgment (aren’t there four things.)? Anyway, if there is a benefit to doing such a thing, what would that look like?

A: “The Last Things”, or “Eschatology” is the subject that deals with the ultimate truths of our existence. Often called “The Four Last Things,” the number can vary. They are death, judgment, heaven, and hell, but we can also include purgatory and the final judgment. Some add the resurrection of the body and the end of the present world to complete the picture.

Your comment that they are horrible would apply to hell (at least inasmuch as it is the greatest definitive disaster that could befall man), but I would not qualify the others with the same adjective. Death is not humanly attractive – and our nature shies from it – but it is a necessary step in order to get to heaven. The same can be said of judgment and purgatory. For those in friendship with God, these are not to be feared. Although awe-inspiring and even painful they lead to eternal bliss, and we can consider them as purification for our sins.

I think many avoid these themes because they make us feel our limitedness and our necessary dependence on God. They prick our conscience and shake us out of our comfort zone. Most of all, however, they make us suffer because we often lack faith and trust in God’s love and mercy. We contemplate only our sinfulness and misery and realize that we cannot cause our own salvation. It is a scary thought. We are totally in the hands of God and his compassion. Nothing we can ever do can make us worthy of heaven. It is his gift, his grace (albeit, a grace he offers to all and, once accepted in faith, a grace that we can expand upon and gain merit with).

Contemplation of this nature, based on fear and without faith, is never recommendable. It will do little good; it will only make us agitated and worrisome.

If, on the other hand, we meditate on these realities based on the sureness of God’s love for us, the panorama changes. Death becomes a sacrifice I can present to God just like Jesus did… my last and most profound offering: my life.

The judgment may reveal my sins, but more importantly it will reveal God’s loving care and constant presence in my life – the almost infinite graces he has showered on me and the glories he has worked through me.

Purgatory becomes a place to grow in ardent love for him. I find myself not quite ready, with too many imperfections. I want to cleanse myself and enjoy God fully with no limitations. I “purge” myself; I sacrifice myself as fast as I can so that I can enjoy that final embrace.

Heaven is indescribable. Think of it as the sum of the most intense desires of your heart, all of them, all together. Multiply that by infinity and then grasp it in one act of love that will never pass. It is too hard to find the words.

Hell… definitely not a good subject. But the thought of it can lead us to wake up and shed our spiritual sloth. The children of Fatima were granted a vision of hell from our Lady, and it turned them into ardent apostles of prayer. Christ himself mentions it in the Gospel for those who would rather not take the narrow path but instead choose the wide and easy one. He mentions the fire that is never extinguished and the worm that dies not. This is not just a scare tactic to get us to worry, but as the Catechism says, “a call to the responsibility incumbent upon man to make use of his freedom in view of his eternal destiny… and at the same time, an urgent call to conversion” (CCC, 1036). I think that is the reason we should contemplate the eternal truths: they give meaning to our lives. They get us to pull our heads out of the sand and realize what life is really about and where we are heading. They turn us back to God and teach us to value him and his things above all else. God is not a bookkeeper, keeping track of our faults and sins and waiting for the proper moment to cut us down and cut us off. He is a loving God who loved us so much that he sent us his only Son to show us the way to him. Meditating on the last things enables us to grow in love for him and his mercy.

Finally, it is good to remember that the Fathers of the Church and the Popes have always recommended the awareness of (or the contemplation of) these Last Things. A couple of quotes from John Paul II and Benedict XVI can give us ulterior reasons for this contemplation.

To preach a version of Christianity which benignly ignores, when it does not explicitly deny, that our ultimate hope is the ‘resurrection of the body and life everlasting’ (Symbolum Apostolorum) runs counter to Revelation and the whole of Catholic tradition. More vigorous preaching and catechesis on eschatological themes is needed in order to eliminate confusion regarding the true nature of Christian life and of the Church’s unfailing hope in her Lord who is ‘the resurrection and the life…’

While many prefer to avoid these ultimate questions and some are tempted to think of salvation as a right and as a foregone conclusion, the Church must continue to remind people of the awesome reality of human freedom, the price of salvation (cf. 1Cor. 7: 23) and the riches of divine mercy (cf. Eph. 2: 4). In doing so the Church is defending the worth and dignity of every individual against all efforts to trivialize human existence” (John Paul II to the bishops of the United States on May 28, 1993).

“Unless we take (the eternal truths) into account, we cannot work well for the earth… When one does not know the judgment of God one does not know the possibility of Hell, of the radical and definitive failure of life; one does not know the possibility of and need for purification. Man then fails to work well for the earth because he ultimately loses his criteria, he no longer knows himself – through not knowing God – and destroys the earth” (Benedict XVI to parish priests of Rome on February 7, 2008).

Yours in Christ, Father Joseph Burtka, LC

Does the Holy Spirit work with those outside of the Church?

Q: I thought I understood, more or less, how the Holy Spirit works in our lives. But in a recent faith sharing group, a question came up that made me wonder. Someone asked if the Holy Spirit would or would not be with un-baptized persons if they ask Holy Spirit to dwell in them or to give them fortitude in a difficult situation. This came up while we were discussing how God’s grace can touch the lives of those who have never even heard of Jesus. I was hoping you could shed some light on this for me.

A: I am glad you asked this question. It reminds us that the vast treasure of theological reflection that our Church has accumulated through the centuries isn’t just irrelevant abstraction. It has grown up organically, in order to help us understand better and better how God works, so that we can cooperate with him more and more effectively.

In the first place, remember that God is not limited to working through the sacraments. Therefore, he can make saints without them if he so pleases; he can pour his grace into souls however and whenever he sees fit. At the same time, however, he himself established the sacraments as the normal, ordinary way to communicate his grace. For us to belittle them or treat them as optional, therefore, is presumptuous. He established them because in his wisdom he knows that human nature always experiences and expresses spiritual realities through material realities. And so, something real changes in our souls at baptism: God comes to dwell in us, adopts us, and actually alters (elevates) our souls at a deep, ontological level. In other words, it is not indifferent whether or not someone gets baptized.

“Types” of Baptism

The Church has long pointed out, however, that this grace of baptism can come in three ways: through the validly administered sacrament of baptism; through baptism by blood; and baptism of desire.

• Baptism of blood refers to the martyrdom of someone who dies for the Christian faith before actually receiving the sacrament of baptism. In this case, the effects of martyrdom include some of the effects of baptism: the complete remission of sin and the privilege of immediate entrance into heaven. This concept of baptism of blood came into focus during the first centuries of the Church’s existence. During the many waves of Roman persecution, men and women who were still only catechumens (receiving instruction in the faith and preparing for baptism), and pagans who suddenly converted to the faith (for example, upon seeing the heroic courage of a martyr) were often executed along with baptized Christians.

• Baptism of desire is a bit different, a bit more mysterious. It too is the equivalent of sacramental baptism, and therefore sufficient for obtaining the state of grace and the promise of salvation. Yet the circumstances by which it comes to pass or known only to God. Here’s how the Second Vatican Council explained it: “Those who through no fault of their own, do not know the Gospel of Christ or His Church, but who nevertheless seek God with a sincere heart, and, moved by grace, try in their actions to do His will as they know it through the dictate of their conscience – those too may achieve eternal salvation” (Constitution on the Church, I, 16).

As you can see, we simply cannot fathom all the wonderful ways in which God works in the souls of us sinners. God’s action is so rich!

The “Types” of Grace

As regards your specific question, about someone who is not baptized asking for help from the Holy Spirit, it may be useful to recall the different types of grace.

• There is sanctifying grace (the state of being in friendship with Christ, of being an adopted child of God, of having been redeemed from original sin). This is introduced into our lives at baptism, and it is increased, or deepened, through prayer, fidelity to God’s will, and the other sacraments.

• There is also sacramental grace, a specific strengthening or benefit unique to each sacrament. For example, the sacramental grace of confession is the forgiveness of personal sins and the strengthening of our will towards future fidelity. The sacramental grace of marriage is the marriage bond which helps both spouses grow in communion with God through living their communion with each other, etc.

• Then there is what is commonly referred to as actual grace. This is a boost of supernatural help that comes to assist us in a specific situation. When we talk about “graces,” this is usually what we mean – a light from the Holy Spirit, an added dose of patience when I really needed it… These actual graces are distinct from sanctifying grace. So, when non-baptized persons, who probably don’t have sanctifying grace, ask for help from the Holy Spirit, they are asking for this kind of grace, actual grace. And God is always ready to give actual graces, even when we don’t ask, to draw us closer to him.

These distinctions may seem persnickety. But let’s not lose sight of the forest for the trees. Reflecting on the many ways in which God reaches out to us and stays involved in our lives reminds of the most important thing: that he is our Father, passionately interested in the smallest details of our little, limited world.

Yours in Christ, Father John Bartunek, LC

What is the difference between confession and spiritual direction?

Q: Father John, what is the difference between confession and spiritual direction?

A: Confession and spiritual direction are like partially overlapping circles: they share some common characteristics, but their centers, their essences, are distinct.

The Distinction of Confession

The essence of confession is the sacramental grace that Christ gives to our soul through the ministry of his priest. When we open our hearts to him through sincere repentance and honest confession of our sins within the sacrament of reconciliation, we receive an infusion of grace that forgives our sins, strengthens our spiritual weakness (especially regarding the behaviors that we confessed), and increases the bond of our supernatural friendship with Christ. It also exercises and therefore increases the supernatural virtues of faith, hope, and charity. In confession, God acts on our soul the way a surgeon acts on a patient: directly, profoundly, in ways that we could never reproduce by merely natural efforts.

This is why we don’t have to worry even if the priest who hears our confession is taciturn, deaf, grumpy, in mortal sin, or even (God forbid) harsh. The priest is God’s instrument of grace within this sacrament, not the source of that grace.

The Distinction of Spiritual Direction

The essence of spiritual direction is solid advice. The spiritual director helps us see more clearly what God is asking of us and how he is acting in our lives. The director also helps us see objectively the quality of our response to God: are we being docile and humble, or are we just tricking ourselves into doing what we feel like? The spiritual director is like the physical therapist that helps us identify the exercises we need to be doing in order to grow spiritually, and then helps us adjust our spiritual program of work in order to keep it effective and on track. This is invaluable advice, but it is noticeably different than that surgeon who actually reconstructs a torn ligament or rebuilds a broken lung.

This is one of the reasons why nothing inhibits lay people from becoming excellent spiritual directors. Ordination is not required, just solid training in spiritual theology, ample personal experience in the spiritual life, and the Holy Spirit’s gifts of knowledge (discernment) and counsel. But God has reserved the sacrament of confession to his ordained priests, in order to guarantee that he acts directly therein.

The Overlap

Nevertheless, although the essences differ, the secondary characteristics of confession and spiritual direction can often overlap. A good confessor gives more than absolution; he also utilizes the sacred moment in which this person is opening their heart to God to remind them of God’s goodness, love, and wisdom. If he detects some confusion or frustration, he can also give sound advice, just as a spiritual director would do. If the penitent has questions or doubts, the confessor answers and resolves them. The atmosphere of faith in which the sacrament takes place is incomparably propitious for the action of the Holy Spirit and the penitent’s docility to that action. In past centuries, in fact, lay people usually received spiritual direction within the sacrament. They would go to the same priest regularly for confession, and this “confessor” became their spiritual father, their spiritual director. In more recent times, however, the practice of having separate spiritual direction, which used to be reserved for consecrated religious, has spread to the laity as well. This is linked to the Church’s growing emphasis on the lay vocation as a vocation to holiness, just as much as a religious vocation is a call to holiness. Only the states of life differ.

Some priests who are excellent confessors even prefer to give spiritual direction within the sacrament of confession. Combining the two makes for a longer stay in the confessional, but it can be fruitful. If you are having trouble finding a spiritual director, you may want to ask around to find out which priests in your area have a reputation for being wise confessors. You can then go to confession with them, and in addition to confessing your sins, you can also mention in the sacrament that you are trying to follow a program of spiritual growth. Then include as part of your confession the areas of spiritual work in which you have had difficulty in recent weeks. These difficulties may be imperfections (unconscious faults) more than sins, but by confessing them you express the delicacy of your love for Christ, and you give the confessor a greater understanding of the state of your soul. Then he will have a chance to give you solid advice and guidance before giving you absolution. You can use that advice to adjust your program of spiritual work for the coming weeks. In this way, your confessor can double as your spiritual director. The disadvantage of this arrangement, however, is the lack of time to converse. Often what is most helpful in spiritual direction is the focused conversation about spiritual things. Necessarily, the parameters of the sacrament curtail this kind of discussion.

Of course, the contrary situation also arises. Oftentimes, if one’s spiritual director is also a priest, it is quite natural to finish spiritual direction with the sacrament of confession. In this case, the priest will take less time to offer advice and encouragement, which has already been given in spiritual direction. The disadvantage of this arrangement (which is certainly not a requirement), is the tendency to dilute one’s awareness of God’s action through the sacrament, a penchant for considering, the sacrament merely as the frosting on the cake of spiritual direction, at least on a subconscious level.

Keep in mind the essential difference between confession and spiritual direction. If you do that, then the overlap of secondary characteristics, which can take as many different forms as there are people, will always enhance and never confuse your experience of both.

Yours in Christ, Father John Bartunek, LC

“Offering it Up” – Redemptive Suffering Part II – The Path to Greater Merit

Q: Father John, I was just listening to a radio show about redemptive suffering – they were saying that our suffering can have value if we “offer it up.”  Is there any more to this (uniting our sufferings to Jesus’) than just saying the words?

A: Having marveled at the amazing truth that Jesus not only redeemed us, but through his grace has desired to give us a real, consequential role in the building up of his everlasting Kingdom through merit, now we are ready to tackle your question.  If we are in the state of grace, our prayers, virtuous actions, and even our sufferings can become a source of merit.  When we unite them to Christ (“offering them up” as you put it in the question), they become pipelines of grace extending from the heart of Christ into our hearts and through us into the Church and the world around us.  That said, we also must remember that the diameter of the pipeline is not fixed.  It depends upon four factors.  Growth in spiritual maturity depends to a great extent on the interior discipline required in living out these four factors. 

First, there is the amount of sanctifying grace present in my soul.  The more I am filled with grace, the more merit my prayers, virtuous actions, and sufferings will have when I offer them to God.  The more grace I am infused with, the higher the wattage on the lamp of my soul.  This is because grace is what makes us more like God, more united to him. A kind word from a stranger can be pleasant, but a kind word from someone dear to me is much more meaningful.  The Christian who prays regularly, receives the sacraments regularly, and makes an effort to practice all the Christian virtues, rooting out sinful tendencies and avoiding sin, is more united to God.  They are in a better position to merit.  As the Bible puts it, “The Lord keeps his distance from the wicked, but he listens to the prayers of the upright” (Proverbs 15:29).  And lest you think this is just an Old Testament anachronism, here’s St. James making the same point in the New Testament: “…The heartfelt prayer of someone upright works very powerfully” (James 5:16).  What goes for prayers goes also for virtuous actions and sufferings.

United to the Vine

Second, there is our union with Jesus.  This is closely related to the first factor, but it is less formal and more relational.  It’s a question of being aware of our union with Christ.  We are members of his mystical body, and so he is always with us.  The more conscious we are of this union, the more meritorious all of our actions become.  When we are working on a project with another person, the beneficial synergy happens more fully and dramatically if we are in constant contact with that person along the whole process.  Our project as Christians is to build up Christ’s Kingdom in our hearts and in the world around us.  If we try to do the work on our own and then check in with the Lord at the end of the day, that’s good.  But it’s much better if we work side-by-side with him throughout every phase of the project.  This is the spiritual discipline of living in the presence of God, and it turns even the most mundane tasks into meaningful encounters with God.  If I am habitually living and working aware of Christ’s presence in my heart, then saying the words “Lord, I offer this up to you” resonates deeply in my soul, opening up a wider flow of God’s grace (merit) through that offering.  St. Paul encouraged the Christians of Colossae to practice this spiritual discipline: “…Whatever you say or do, let it be in the name of the Lord Jesus, in thanksgiving to God the Father through him” (Colossians 3:17).

To Want or Not to Want…

Third, there is our purity of intention.  We can “offer up” our sufferings, using them to gain merit, for many different reasons: because we don’t want to go to hell; because we want more glory in heaven; because we want our sufferings to win graces for others who are in need; because we want to show God that we love him no matter what, even if he permits suffering in our lives; because we want to conform our lives more perfectly to Christ… The same variety of reasons can be present in our prayers and virtuous actions.  We can obey because we don’t want to be punished, or because we recognize that the virtue of obedience is pleasing to God and glorifies his wisdom; we can exhaust ourselves to earn a decent living because we are afraid of being labeled a failure, or because we recognize that God has given us a mission to provide for a family and thereby be a mirror of the Father’s goodness… The default setting for our interior intention is usually self-centered.  But with God’s help and constant effort on our part, we can make it more and more mission-centered, Kingdom-centered, Christ-centered.  Of course, usually we have more than one intention, e.g. we work for the satisfaction of a job well done, but also to benefit the world around us and to make a living, and also to glorify God.  Multiple intentions are natural and normal – human beings are complex creatures.  But the more we can consciously renew our supernatural intention, stirring up the reasons for doing things that are based on the wisdom of our faith, the bigger pipeline of grace we can become.  This factor applies even to the littlest things we do, as St Paul makes clear: “Whatever you eat, then, or drink, and whatever else you do, do it all for the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10:31).

Going from Cold to Hot

Fourth, there is the factor of fervor.  You can have 20 kids in a math class, and every single one of them can be working on an exercise.  But not every single one of them will be putting their whole heart into it.  You can have 15 kids at baseball practice, but not all 15 will be giving their all for the whole two hours.  Just so, we can all say the words, “Lord, I offer this up to you,” but we will not all say them with equal fervor; the more meaning we pour into them, the more merit we can acquire.  When sufferings come our way, for example, we can accept them with different degrees of fervor: reluctance, patience, gratitude, joy.  As long as we accept them out of faith, we will merit – we will help increase the flow of grace in the Church.  But if we accept them with a greater degree of faith (e.g. “Lord, you are giving me a chance to unite myself more closely to Christ on the cross – OK, Lord, help me to share his love as I share his pain!…”), there will also be a greater degree of merit.  Jesus stressed this factor when he identified the most important commandment: “You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind” (Matthew 22:37).  He said all. The implication is that we can love with different degrees of totality.

Sanctifying grace, union with Jesus, purity of intention, and fervor are four factors that help determine the degree of merit that our prayers, virtuous actions, and sufferings (sacrifices) can win for ourselves, the Church, and the world around us.  So, to answer the original question, there is much more to uniting our sufferings to Christ than simply saying the words, though that is the necessary catalyst.

I hope this hasn’t discouraged you by giving the impression that the spiritual life is overly complicated.  It really isn’t.  In fact, knowing that one simple action (a prayer, a headache, an act of service, an honest word, a chore) can either open up a trickle or a torrent of grace is a jewel of wisdom.  It should fill us with optimism and enthusiasm.  We don’t have to convert nations or face lions in the Coliseum to do something glorious for God!  Nor do we have to learn complex yoga techniques in order to develop spiritual maturity – we just have to dig deep into our soul before, during, and after our normal activities, and activate our faith so as to plug  them into our Christian mission of building Christ’s Kingdom.  (By the way, the easiest way to do that is to grow in the habit of “praying at all times” [1 Thessalonians 5:17].  When we do that, the four factors kick in and intensify automatically.) This is less glamorous than becoming a martial arts expert, because it is largely interior and invisible (to everyone except you and God), and therefore requires more discipline.  As St Paul put it, we “walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7). 

But the good news is, as always, that we are not alone.  God, Mary, the angels and the saints are all eager to help us, if we just give them the chance.

Yours in Christ, Fr John Bartunek, LC