WHITE HOUSE JESUIT RETREAT

Jesuit retreat center high on the bluffs of the Mississippi River in St. Louis, MO.  Since 1922, thousands of people from around the world make annual three-day silent, guided retreats here to relax, reconnect with God and strengthen their spirituality.  A true gem in the Midwest!  Call 314-416-6400 or 1-800-643-1003.  Email reservations@whretreat.org  7400 Christopher Rd.  St. Louis, MO 63129

Both men's and women's retreats are offered as well as recovery retreats.

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Weekend Reflections for 11/20/20

Christ the King

Sunday begins the last week in the Church's liturgical year leading us into the Advent Season. We always end the year with this great feast when we celebrate Jesus Christ as our King, Leader and Shepherd. It's a feast we desperately need in this time of the covid pandemic, political division, social unrest, fear and uncertainty. Many of us are struggling for the serenity that "accepts hardship as the path to peace."

I've come to know that we give power to what we focus on. When I focus on all of the turmoil, it just gets worse. I'm feeding my fear of being helpless and truly out of control. It's all too big and powerful and I can't do anything about it. That's when God's Spirit reminds me that He's in charge, He's in control, Christ is King. In both the Old and New Testaments when God and Jesus are asked "Why the pain and suffering?" they respond, "Trust me." They don't give answers but invite us into a loving and trusting relationship. When we focus on that, we give it power and grow in our ability to let go and let God, to be compassionate and reach out to others.

On Thanksgiving let us focus on our blessings and be grateful. Remember: God is here and Christ in now.

Fr. Ralph Huse, S.J.

Weekend Reflections for 11/13/20

Faithful Commitment

Sunday's first reading from the Book of Proverbs describes a loving woman who has dedicated herself to her husband and family. She is to be praised and valued for her fidelity and generous spirit. In the Gospel parable Jesus speaks of the committed servants who put their master's benefit as their priority and they are well rewarded.

Most of us were baptized as infants and our parents and godparents made the commitment of faith on our behalf. As young adults we confirmed that at our Confirmation and later most of us added vows of marriage, religious life or ordination. When we make such commitments, we are saying that other options are no longer available to us. So we live our lives with the choices we have made and try to be faithful to them.

In my own life and in my work with others I have come to see how the evil one loves to torment us with the sinful infidelities of our younger years. Those are written in the sand at the seashore and erased with every wave of God's love. Our fidelity is written in stone and lasts forever and that's all God sees when He looks at us.

The evil one tempts us sometimes to wonder "What if...or "If only..." I had made other choices. That can lead to regrets and dissatisfaction with who I've become and the life I am living. We are invited by God to remember that He has always been with us, guiding and guarding and making us into the faithful and committed followers He has called us to be.

Fr. Ralph Huse, S.J.

Weekend Reflections for 11/6/20

Wisdom and Death

A comedian once commented, "I'm not afraid of dying; I just don't want to be there when it happens." Natural disasters and the covid pandemic have brought our mortality, our inescapable future death, more into our focus and attention. In Sunday's Gospel Jesus teaches us with the story of the wise and foolish virgins who are waiting to welcome the bridegroom to his wedding party. The wise women brought extra oil for their lamps in case the bridegroom was delayed which he was and they were ready to greet him with lamps shining brightly.

I used to be vaguely afraid of dying. After all, it's a huge unknown and you probably won't know when it's going to happen. Over the years I came to realize that I wasn't afraid of death, I was afraid of God, of being seen and judged by Him. His gift of faith-filled wisdom taught me that I am God's beloved child and He constantly looks on me with infinite compassion and love and wants more for me than I could ever hope for or imagine. I am a sinner and will die a sinner but God forgives and forgets them all.

One of Ignatius' favorite prayers was the Soul of Christ. It ends with "In the hour of my death, call me. And bid me come to Thee, that with Thy saints I may praise Thee forever and ever. Amen." Now I prayerfully imagine my death as Jesus appearing to me and saying "Come on, Ralph, let's go home."

Fr. Ralph Huse, S.J.

Weekend Reflections for 10/23/20

This weekend in the Sunday liturgy we hear the familiar – perhaps too familiar – teaching of Jesus that love of God and love of neighbor are the “greatest” of the hundreds of laws which the Jewish people recognized as contained within the first five books of Scripture.  As we well know, Jesus pushes his listeners to embrace this dual focus of love not as two separate laws but as a single commandment of love.  Like the two sides of a coin, one cannot exist without the other.

I offer two sets of questions in light of this Gospel, taking into account the particular circumstances in which our world and our country now find themselves.

(1)      What has living in a COVID-19 world during the past seven months taught me about what it means to love one’s neighbor?  Has my sense of who is my neighbor expanded or retracted?  In the spirit of Jesus, have I not only discovered new neighbors but actively sought to create neighbors among those who were previously only strangers or maybe even “enemies” in some sense?

(2)      As this country finds itself on the eve of another set of elections – and as we are reminded of the privilege and obligation to exercise civic responsibility for our society’s well-being through the power of the vote – do we sense that our voting should be an act of a well-formed conscience and an act of love?

A final note:  This entry is being distributed as the month of October draws to a close, the month during which Catholics, under the patronage of Mary, have been reminded in a heightened way of the ongoing challenge of respecting and defending life in all its stages and in all its “faces.”  Life issues are many, among which are abortion, capital punishment, domestic violence, human trafficking, immigration, proper care of the elderly, and social (including racial) harmony.  It seems to me that most “social justice” issues are also life issues, since they address the quality of human life both in the present and in the future.

Elections are by definition competitive; sadly, they are also often contentious in a way that calls into question our common love-commitment to truth, justice, life and the common good.  The U.S. bishops remind us that we should participate in the political process in a manner that is worthy of our human and Christian dignity.  They also state that we should analyze issues for their social and moral dimensions and should examine the positions of candidates on the full range of issues, “as well as their personal integrity, philosophy, and performance.”

In anticipation of elections, it is easy to fall into facile, black-and-white thinking.  It is not so easy to bring reflection to our voting choices.  It is even more difficult to do so with that true spiritual freedom which enables us, in love, to recognize and act upon the moral and ethical importance of those choices.  Let us pray, through the intercession of Mary, that all of us will be granted the freedom we need.

-Fr. Frank Reale, SJ

Weekend Reflections for 10/8/20

“Blessed are those called to the supper of the Lamb.” With these simple words, the priest at every Mass invites those gathered to come forward to receive Christ through Holy Communion. These words remind us that through the Eucharist we reenter into the one sacrifice of Christ for us on the Cross and thus celebrate it as the wedding feast of the Lord in which heaven and earth, humanity and divinity, are united in the person of Jesus and then received by his followers. And this wedding feast liturgy is but a foretaste of the eternal liturgy of heaven.

At each Mass, it is an awesome privilege to be invited to such a great occasion; it is also a great responsibility. But, as we see in the parable for this Sunday (Matthew 22: 1-14), there are two dangers when considering this invitation.

The first danger is to reject the invitation. The people in today’s parable were all doing good things, and we shouldn’t think that there is anything wrong with tending a farm, building a business, or tending to any of the legitimate responsibilities we have in life. The problem comes, however, if we see the good things in our lives as ends in themselves rather than as gifts of God that are meant to bring us closer to God. When that happens, we become like the people in the parable who attack the messengers sent by the king. We also will attack the prophets in our midst, or attack our own consciences, when we attempt to live our lives outside of God’s great purposes for us.

The second danger we face is symbolized at the end of the parable when the king notices someone who, though he has said yes to the invitation to the banquet, is inappropriately attired since he does not have on a wedding garment. Just as being properly attired at a solemn event shows our respect and acceptance, so in this parable the wedding garment symbolizes that we not only have accepted God’s reign in our lives with our lips but also by daily living as Christian disciples committed to personal conversion, love and service.

At baptisms, after the pouring of the water, the priest or deacon points to a white garment and admonishes the newly baptized, “You have become a new creation, and have clothed yourself in Christ. See in this white garment the outward sign of your Christian dignity [and] bring that dignity unstained into the everlasting life of heaven.”

Having accepted God’s invitation to Christ’s life and “feast,” maybe this is a good time for each of us to ask: How is our ‘wedding garment’ holding up?

Fr. Frank Reale, S.J.

Weekend Reflections for 10/2/01

This Sunday’s rendering of the parable of the landowner and the tenants (Matthew 21: 33-43) has many of the hallmarks of a short story, but it may be one which we would prefer to hold at a distance or even ignore completely given the parable’s violent end. How could it possibly apply to us? This attitude, however, would be a mistake, because it neglects the fact that the story’s author is Jesus and that through it he wants to communicate to us something significant about the workings of grace. Afterall, this parable is part of the Gospel, and by definition Jesus’ Gospel is always good news. But sometimes, in order to hear the good news, we have to have the courage to let God show us that the good that he offers is far better than the mediocrity that we, too often, call “good.”

If we have the courage to allow ourselves to be drawn into today’s parable, we might notice some similarities between ourselves and the workers in the vineyard. Many of us work hard to build our lives. Through our presence and work in a place, we stake a claim to “what is ours.” When people come along who challenge our claims we often feel threatened. We might seek to rid ourselves of the stumbling blocks that they are, undermining the authority of the challengers that come by spreading gossip or by actively working to neutralize their threat.

But what if the stumbling block that we challenge, this stone that we reject while “building” our lives, is actually the cornerstone upon which the Lord wishes to build a life for us? It is not just the prophets, but Jesus himself who comes to tell us that the vineyard in which we work is actually not ours, no matter how hard we may work within it. It belongs no more to the worker who got there first than it does to the most recent arrival. The good news is that, once we realize this, we no longer have to weary ourselves by descending to the mediocrity of those who spend their lives anxiously grasping after things for themselves, but are liberated to freely give and receive as those who can rest in the peace and knowledge that all things belong to their Father.

Let us pray for the grace to find our joy not in claiming the fruit of the vineyard for ourselves –which would be stealing – but rather let us rejoice in offering it up to the one who allows us the privilege of working in his vineyard for the salvation of all.

Fr. Frank Reale, S.J.

Weekend Reflections for 9/18/20

You and I are called to be "conduits of grace" for our families.  Therefore, one of the greatest gifts we can give our family is to go on retreat ourselves.  This is not because we are giving them a break from our presence, but because we are allowing ourselves to be cleansed and strengthened in grace, so as to be more effective conduits of grace for those we love.


     When Jesus looks on us, he sees our family too which surrounds us. In Sunday's Gospel, Jesus tells a marvelous parable about a generous landowner who gives a full daily wage to all workers, and the same amount to those family providers who are able to work only the last hour of the day.  The landowner, representing God the Father, sees not simply the individual worker and how much work has been accomplished by that one person, but the family behind the worker.  This is a truly Catholic vision.  And so the landowner in the parable generously accounts for family size and gives those workers also a full day's wage--for they've been seeking work vigorously the whole day and surely need it at home!


     There are still a few places around the world, including the Vatican, where one is paid according to family size also.  God measures out his grace to our families similarly.  The more you and I allow ourselves to be cleansed and strengthened in grace, regularly separating ourselves from daily tasks for a one-on-one with the Lord, the more our families benefit.  May we, for the sake of our families, be strengthened in our spiritual practices, that God may bless abundantly our loved ones through us.  Spirituality indeed has never been and never will be a one-on-one proposition.

-Fr. Anthony Wieck, SJ

Weekend Reflections for 9/11/20

Forgiveness is next to Godliness.  Indeed it is.  In this Sunday's Gospel, Jesus exhorts us to forgive the transgressions of those around us so that we can receive God's forgiveness for our own.  Jesus is simply fleshing out that pesky "Our Father" petition, radical as it is: "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us."  Jesus reminds us here that we cannot receive good things like mercy unless we are engaged in the act of distributing it ourselves. 

     Indeed we are meant to give of ourselves, continually and fruitfully.  For example, in marriage we know that if we are looking for our own happiness therein we will never find it; but conversely if we are looking for our spouse's happiness in marriage we will find our own.  So it is with any form of vowed life.  Those who are other-centered are filled with joy, with the Spirit of God. 

     Thus to be Christian is to be other-centered and extend mercy prodigally.  For whom am I called to pray?  Who needs a liberating gift of mercy from me?  Who is it that hurt me in the past but keeps me from receiving God's mercy in the present because I hold on to the hurt?  Let us be bold, my brothers and sisters.  Let us grant mercy prodigally to our transgressors, surrendering them to God sometimes to deal with, that we may receive mercy superabundantly ourselves.  

-Fr. Anthony Wieck, SJ

Weekend Reflections for 9/4/20

     You and I are called to an ever-deeper, Godly love of our neighbor.  This sounds attractive at first, but really it is quite difficult.  It is difficult because such an authentic love embraces the notion of "fraternal correction," to which Our Lord exhorts us in this Sunday's Gospel.


     To love someone truly we must at times correct them out of love when they allow themselves to be influenced in the wrong direction.  It would be much easier for us to "live and let live," to not "judge a tree by its fruits," though the Lord exhorts us to do just that.  No, we are called to a deeper love, and so, out of that love, a disciple of Jesus will point out to the neighbor, one-on-one at first, what is seen as unhealthy.  Who knows? This may become a common occurrence for us when Archbishop Rozanski declares Sunday Mass attendance a serious obligation again, yet many may prefer to watch it in the comfort of their home from now on.  They will have to be approached in love and corrected humbly.  It takes a much deeper love to do this.  A lesser love would turn the other way and avoid mentioning it.


     One last thought on the matter: Saint Paul tells us, "Our battle is not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers." (Eph 6:12)  Those we struggle with, whether they are near us or on the nightly news, are never our enemies or the true source of our frustrations. Rather, we need to pray against the destructive spirits behind these people that motivate them. Indeed, God's Spirit and his angels are ever more powerful to crush any selfish spirit, and so we call upon them for assistance here.  As one retreatant here at White House reported to me about his faith-filled granddaughter, coming home from kindergarten one day after being confronted by a mean boy on the playground: "Mommy, can we pray the St. Anthony prayer together? This boy lost his good side and we need to help him find it!"  So it is with fraternal correction.

-Fr. Anthony Wieck, SJ

Weekend Reflections for 8/28/20

The Costly Grace of Discipleship

 

The Cost of Discipleship is a Christian classic by the German “martyr” to the sin of racism, Dietrich Bonhoeffer. The book centers around an exposition of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, in which Bonhoeffer spells out what he believes it means to follow Christ. It was first published in 1937, when the rise of the Nazi regime was underway in Germany. Against this background Bonhoeffer developed a spirituality of costly discipleship, which ultimately led to his execution in a concentration camp because he opposed the racist Nazi regime. As he went to his death in 1945 Bonhoeffer wrote: "This is the end—for me the beginning of life."

A central element of this book is the contrast Bonhoeffer makes between "cheap" grace and "costly" grace. In his words: "cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, communion without confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ."

Costly grace contrasts with cheap grace confronting us as “a gracious call to follow Jesus, coming as a word of forgiveness to the broken spirit and the contrite heart. It is costly because it compels one to submit to the yoke of Christ and follow him; it is grace because Jesus says: "My yoke is easy and my burden is light."

In Sunday’s gospel (Mt 16:21-27) Jesus invites us to grow in costly discipleship with these words: “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny self, take up one’s cross and follow me.” The grace-filled school of prayer and discernment we offer freely in the Spiritual Exercises at White House invite us to grow in the fulfillment of Jesus’s promise: “if you lose your life for my sake, and for the gospel, you’ll find it,” and that means abundant riches flourishing out of costly discipleship. For all of us, isn’t this the end—the beginning of life?

-Fr. Ted Arroyo, SJ

Weekend Reflections for 8/21/20

Who Do You Say?

Some of us are “mature” enough to remember the hit song “I heard it through the grapevine” which was popular in the 1970s (Creedence Clearwater Revival) and 1980s (Marvin Gaye). The grapevine is what Jesus asks about in Sunday’s gospel (Mt 16:13-20).  Who do they say he is? What’s the gossip out there about Jesus? Jesus was well aware of the power of reputation, rumor, for good or for bad, better or less, best or worst.

The grapevine of gossip was very powerful when I served as a missionary in Paraguay, South America. Paraguay is a very tight-knit culture with the native Guaraní people and language predominating over Spanish. You may remember the 1986 film “The Mission” starting Robert De Niro and Jeremy Irons, about the experiences of Jesuit missionaries in 18th century South America and their efforts to protect the Guaraní natives from enslavement.

In Paraguay, Guaraní is 'the people's language', an indigenous language that has no Indo-European roots. In the Guaraní language the grapevine or gossip/rumor mill is called “radio so’o.”  Radio stands for, yes, your simple radio. So’o sort of rhymes with “toe-oh” and it means gossip, the grapevine, rumor mill. And, yes, we certainly have our own “radio so’o” all around us in our culture, don’t we?

While I was serving in Paraguay, it was through radio so’o that the poor people, Guaraní speakers, were able to spread the word, the good news about human dignity and human rights which ultimately overthrew the brutal dictatorship of NAZI admirer and dictator Alfredo Stroessner in 1989. The Jesuits on mission there were part of that “radio so’o” network, but it was the empowered Guaraní people and their grapevine, their radio so’o that brought down the powers of evil at that time.

The grapevine, radio so’o is what today’s Gospel is all about. Jesus puts his disciples on the spot by asking them what’s the gossip about his identity and their own: “Who do they say, and who do you say that I am?” Talk about being put on the spot! Have you ever had a friend look you in the eye and ask: “What do you think of me?” How potentially embarrassing it can be!

How are we to approach such questions? This is what we face in Sunday’s Gospel. This is what Jesus asks of his disciples and us: “What do you think of me?” If someone asks us such a question, we might hide behind the details that belong in a résumé, mentioning professional, social or athletic accomplishments. Getting a little more personal, we might refer to vague qualities and remain on the superficial level with adjectives like “nice, good-looking, strong,” or venture into more relational descriptions such as “my friend, my beloved, my hero.” That’s pretty much the challenge in Sunday’s Gospel.

Jesus led his friends away from their normal stomping grounds and then started to ask questions that, ultimately, led them to explain who they themselves were as they continued to follow his lead. When Jesus asked, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” he started innocently enough by getting them to report on what they were hearing about him. In the days before Twitter or NPR, their grapevine relied on what they picked up in synagogue patios, open air markets and city gates, plus a little of what gossip was heard around the local well. Then, yanking them right out of the role of impartial reporting, Jesus put his disciples on the witness stand by asking one direct question: “But you, who do you say that I am?” One can imagine that the dirt beneath the disciples feet suddenly seemed very attractive, even fascinating, as they stared down, pondered and stuttered in response.

Eventually bold Peter spoke up. “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” That was a great answer and so direct that he could hardly have been wrong.

Peter’s statement in the name of the group effectively declared that their relationship with Jesus was the commitment that defined their lives.  It gave them the power of faith that can open locked doors.

In conferring the keys to the kingdom, Jesus gave the responsibility to unlock and open doors as he had done throughout his ministry. While the official religious authorities were often quick to decide who was “in” and who was “out”, Jesus excluded no one but rather mourned the plight of those who excluded themselves by rejecting the free gifts he offered.

And you, what’s on radio so’o about you? Who do they say you are, and who do you say you are and want to be? What doors are you called to open to let loose those who are locked up, excluded, oppressed, rejected, maybe starting with yourself? May our ongoing experience of Jesus through the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius help us answer these most important questions.  And you might use these questions for your own awareness examen on a regular basis:

1) Who do you say Jesus is? 2) Who do you say you are? 3) What do those most important in your life have to say about you on radio so’o?

-Fr. Ted Arroyo, SJ

Weekend Reflections for 8/14/20

Boundary breaking enduring patterns of social sin: racism and caste. In Sunday’s gospel (Mt. 15:21-28) Jesus breaks his Jewish cultural boundaries by healing the daughter of an outcaste Canaanite woman, perhaps setting an example for Christians struggling to deal with racism today.

In her new book: Caste: The Origins of our Discontents[1] Isabel Wilkerson suggests a paradigm shift in how we address the racism still so shockingly rampant in our world. With many moving human stories, she argues that our racial order is a system of caste—a hierarchical structure of hereditary status. She finds many similarities between the treatment of untouchable “dalits” in India, Jews in Nazi Germany, and African Americans to this day, contending that we might better deal with racism by considering it as a caste system like these other two. She situates America’s race problem in a global context, arguing that we need this shift in order to advance the hard work of annihilating caste and racism. She identifies eight "pillars of caste"[2], which seem to be at the foundations of so much contemporary racism. They also point to many sinful social structures in our world today.

  1. Divine will: the belief that social stratification is God’s will and beyond human control.

  2. Heritability: the belief that social status is acquired at birth and immutable.

  3. Endogamy: the prohibition of dating and marriage across castes.

  4. Purity and pollution: the belief that the dominant caste is "pure" and must be protected against pollution by the so-called inferior castes.

  5. Occupational hierarchy: more desirable occupations are reserved for the so-called superior castes.

  6. Dehumanization and stigma: denial of the individuality and human dignity of lower-caste persons.

  7. Terror and cruelty as means of enforcement of the caste system and control of lower-caste people.

  8. Inherent superiority and inferiority of castes: the belief that people of one caste are inherently superior to those of other castes.

In the Spiritual Exercises which we offer at White House, St. Ignatius guides us to a metanoia, a paradigm shift, a profound conversion from sin through the grace of God. His meditations on 3 types of persons [149-157][3] and 3 kinds of humility [165-168] invite us to Jesus’ self-emptying “kenotic” downward mobility so as to see Christ more clearly, love him more dearly, and follow him more nearly. As we pray with these exercises, may our reflections seek the healing of such pillars of caste, chipping away at, maybe even toppling, pillars of racist caste boundaries by emptying ourselves into horizontal healing of personal relationships and social structures. These “pillars” can provide a framework for our prayer and examen about the sins of racism in our lives, culture, and world.

-Fr. Ted Arroyo, SJ

[1] Random House 2020

[2] Caste, pp. 99–164

[3] [] brackets like these refer to the paragraphs of St. Ignatius’ Spiritual Exercises.

Weekend Reflections for 8/7/20

Sunday’s bible readings (1 Kings 19:9-13, Romans 9:1-5, Matthew 14:22-33) seem appropriate for our White House ministry of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. Here at White House one of our mottos is “you belong here.” In the readings, however, no one is where they are supposed to be. Elijah was supposed to be doing the Lord’s work in Damascus, but he was running away from God’s calling him. Jesus’ disciples were supposed to be on “the other side” of the sea of Galilee, but they were afraid. And Peter, poor Peter who was supposed to be the leader, abandoned ship. He was less afraid of drowning than of going to the other side where he was missioned.


But they stand as a reminder of the graces of the Spiritual Exercises you have undertaken at White House, exercises which challenge you to continue to:
1. Listen to the still small voice on a daily basis, perhaps using the awareness examen on page 43 of the White House prayer book. 
2. Take the time to go back to the mountain top again and again in your life, even back here to White House again and again.3. When you drive out of White House, you see our sign: “you are now returning to the mission field”, troubled waters and all. Be not afraid as you return to the troubled waters of life. It might be difficult for us too, but the Lord sends each one of us on mission too. Pope Francis puts it this way: “you don’t have a mission, you are a mission.”  And he locates that mission by saying :“The Church must step outside herself, to go where? To go to the outskirts of existence.”
4. Those waters are especially troubled in these ongoing, seemingly endless days, weeks and months of coronavirus. Our Ignatian Solidarity Network’s website provides what you might find helpful in praying with this, an “Examen for Life During COVID-19”.

 https://ignatiansolidarity.net/blog/2020/03/14/examen-covid-19/

-Fr. Ted Arroyo, SJ

Weekend Reflections for 7/31/20

August is Get ready for Kindergarten month. As summer comes to a close, millions of children usually begin kindergarten.  Adequately preparing for high-quality early education is imperative, not only to ensure that children smoothly transition into kindergarten, but also so that they themselves and society continue growing up so as to reap life’s long-term benefits.

How are we called to such transitions in this age at any age? The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, which we are again offering at White House on a reduced capacity basis, can be very helpful in processing the many transitions of life (and death!) by recalling us to what should be first and foremost in our Christian lives.

Though this might have to be stated in other ways for pre-schoolers, St. Ignatius’s First Principle and Foundation [23][1] is a first grade exam in the school of the heart, recalling us to our roots, and helping us get ready for whatever is coming our way next until our final graduation:

“The goal of our life is to live with God forever. God, who loves us, gave us life. Our own response of love allows God’s life to flow into us without limit. All the things in this world are gifts of God, presented to us so that we can know God more easily and make a return of love more readily.  As a result, we appreciate and use all these gifts of God insofar as they help us develop as loving persons. But if any of these gifts become the center of our lives, they displace God and so hinder our growth toward our goal.  In everyday life, then, we must hold ourselves in balance before all of these created gifts insofar as we have a choice and are not bound by some obligation. We should not fix our desires on health or sickness, wealth or poverty, success or failure, a long life or a short one. For everything has the potential of calling forth in us a deeper response to our life in God. Our only desire and our one choice should be this: I want and I choose what better leads to God’s deepening his life in me.”

-Fr. Ted Arroyo, SJ

[1] https://www.bc.edu/content/dam/files/offices/ministry/pdf/First%20Principle%20and%20Foundation%20-March%202015%20%282%29.pdf

 

Weekend Reflections for 7/24/20

To personally encounter Jesus brings unparalleled joy. In this Sunday's Gospel, Jesus assures us that an encounter with him is like finding a great treasure, or the finest of pearls. One becomes willing to sell everything else for the sake of this enduring relationship. One finds a new facility to detach from all worldly things out of joy, joy for discovering an ever more life-giving relationship, one that even offers a dynamite retirement plan! 

One would be crazy not to be joyful, or to invest wholeheartedly.  The Samaritan woman's encounter with Jesus, who pierces through her layers of self-protection, to encounter her, is an excellent model of this:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=el7dzoNV3IY    

Jesus brings us this joy, as the second fruit of the Holy Spirit. May we find this treasured relationship through our annual retreat, and order the fragments of our lives around this most pivotal of relationships.   

-Fr. Anthony Wieck, SJ

Weekend Reflections for 7/17/20

Jesus invites us this Sunday to reflect on the patience of God.  God allows weeds to grow up with the wheat.  In that area of the Middle East there exists a type of weed, lolium, which much resembles the wheat plant until the time of harvest.  To pull it out by the roots too early would involve pulling out seedlings of wheat also.  We must wait.

To be patient is not easy for us, especially when we sense something wrong around us.  It is a suffering of sorts, and the word "patience" literally means a "suffering".  But Our God is patient.  As a friend of mine once told me, "God's time is different than ours, and His is usually much slower."   True enough.  We must move only on God's time.  

May we then surrender the mess around us and inside of us to God's patient working.  He takes the broken glass fragments of my life and of our society and is such an artist he can create the most beautiful mosaics in a temple ever, like our Cathedral Basilica.

-Fr. Anthony Wieck, SJ

Weekend Reflections for 7/10/20

The word of God, like a seed, wants to burrow deep within us, and from there bring fruit. As seed, it has its own strength and vigor, but still it must meet fertile and willing earth before it can break open and bring forth life. You and I can provide that earth. Jesus offers this Sunday a planting parable to his listeners who are seated among the rocks and grasses and winding paths which lead to the natural amphitheater bordering the Sea of Galilee, still visible today.


His message is clear. Our task is to clear away the rocks and thistles and crusted earth in our lives which keep God's word from reaching its desired end. What are the common obstacles to God's working in my life? What are my tendencies that point more toward self than toward God? 

Thankfully, Jesus would like to help us clear our earth if we are humble enough to ask for his help. We, for our part, will find it a joy and honor to roll up our sleeves and "labor with him," in the words of Saint Ignatius. This is especially the work of an annual retreat, one that is lived out the other 51 weeks of the year. 

A person "fully alive" experiences that there is no greater joy than to allow God's word to plant itself deeply within, and from there to bear fruit abundantly for loved ones around us. Our words and actions themselves become inspired, and much more effective.

May we respond with a generous "Yes!" to Jesus' offer to work with us to clear the ground of our lives, so that his word can take root, a word meant to nourish effectively the hurting world around us.   

-Fr. Anthony Wieck, SJ

Weekend Reflections for 4/24/20

3rd Sunday of Easter

The Gospel for this Sunday – commonly entitled “The Road to Emmaus” – might be considered one of the immortal short stories of the Christian world. It tells of two people walking toward the sunset… a man and perhaps a woman, moving away from Jerusalem, making the 7-mile trek, more or less, to the West, to a village not far from Jerusalem. Why do they make this walk? It’s not clear. I suppose because they are going home. “The show,” “the action,” is now over in Jerusalem; the Passover celebration is finished; and, for those who were drawn to the person of Jesus, it has all ended in tragedy.

Saint Pope John Paul II was fond of reminding Christians that we are a “Easter People,” but I think that most of us experience life more as a Holy Week people. The joy of the Risen Christ is real, but it is mostly fleeting. Life in general feels more like the craziness, challenge, stress, pain and confusion of Holy Week. How true that is in this particular time of COVID-19! Amidst it all, we can easily fall into discouragement.

Perhaps that’s why it can be helpful to reflect on the central images presented by today’s Gospel. Life is a journey, and we are pilgrims. Where we are now is not where we ultimately need to be. As pilgrims, we are subject to disappointment and even disillusionment about ourselves, about others, about leaders, about politics, etc. Our hopes and dreams, like the Gospel walkers, can be dashed.

What lessons might we draw? Let me propose 5 rather disparate thoughts, each of which might be worthy of some individual reflection:

· In life, it’s better that we walk with others, even though it is tempting at times to walk alone, to get wrapped up in only our own feelings and experiences.

· It’s easier and better if we walk in hope and into hope… not into the sunset, but into the sunrise.

· Christ is present to us – even when we do not recognize him – and he wants to be the source of hope and encouragement.

· We are more likely to recognize Christ if we keep the focus less on ourselves and more on life outside ourselves.

· That recognition, that awareness, of Christ is crucial because Christ is the one who can “make sense of things”; in fact, it is only in Christ that we learn what life truly means.

And that is why it’s worth dedicating ourselves to getting to know Christ better, letting ourselves be fed by him, and letting him be our companion on our own pilgrim’s journey. May we journey well.

Christ’s Peace.

Fr. Frank Reale, S.J.

Weekend Reflections for 4/17/20

Second Sunday of Easter

How is it that a person becomes a "person of faith?" How is it that a family or community or culture or nation is "faith-filled" and others are not? Why is it that even within the same family some individuals, raised as children in seemingly the same manner and with the same values, in their adulthood "live the faith" and others do not?

One of the most difficult things for people today to embrace is the reality of the miraculous. We are prone to operate, more than we sometimes acknowledge, under the assumption that God cannot have an active role in a world where growing human knowledge - and expanding technology - seem to promise ultimate human control.

The first Christians who experienced and professed Jesus' Resurrection, and who were observers and even performers of miracles, understood these events as signs of God's salvation. God chose to act through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus; in that process, the "normal" limits of human life were broken on behalf of humanity.

In today's Gospel, Thomas wants empirical proof if he is to believe the testimony of the other disciples that Jesus has risen. And yet, I suggest that it was not Thomas' commitment to scientific thinking that keeps him from believing that Jesus has been raised from the dead. It is a more basic problem. It is his unwillingness, perhaps his inability, to believe that God would act in such a way to bring about salvation. Jesus appeared to him, passing through locked doors. In doing so, Jesus symbolically broke through the limits that Thomas had placed on God's saving actions.

In giving us the story of "doubting Thomas," John gives a new twist to the story of Jesus' reality as the Resurrected One. Taking up a concern of the later Christian community, John asks: How can a person believe in the Risen One without having received an appearance? The answer he gives is clear: Seeing Jesus is no guarantee of believing. Even disciples had to come to faith when they saw him; so those who have not seen him can still have the blessedness of faith through believing the testimony of the first wit- nesses.

I have no simple explanations for why some people are people of faith and others are not. I do believe, however, that it is important to pray for a "holy imagination," not in the sense of imagining something to be true which is not - that would be self-deception - but rather, to have the spiritual freedom to be able to imagine the truth, which is that God's loving ways of operating are not always our own. As we pray for the gift of a "holy imagination," let us not fail to pray in gratitude for those people in our lives who have helped us to be the people of faith we are today... and let us always pray for those for whom faith is difficult.

Fr. Frank Reale, S.J.