ELISHEBA BLOGLaura, Ivonne, and Rick
write about their lives in the Eucharist. |
ELISHEBA BLOGLaura, Ivonne, and Rick
write about their lives in the Eucharist. |
By: Ivonne J. Hernandez I was listening to a Catholic podcast when one of the hosts said something that made me ponder for weeks. The host said, and I might paraphrase, “Our identity is not sinner; our identity is child of God.” My immediate reaction was: “But… aren’t we both?” And now, after praying and pondering for a while, my answer is, “Well…yes and no.”
One of the first things that came to my mind was the Jesus Prayer: ‘Jesus, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ This is an ancient prayer attributed to and recommended by the Desert Fathers. It brings to our lips a reality expressed by two words we can not separate. Mercy and Sin.
The Second Sunday of Easter, Divine Mercy Sunday, connects two prayers in my heart: Jesus, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me, a sinner. Jesus, I trust in You. This Feast reminds us to focus not on our sinfulness but on the love of God.
In the heart of God, our failings are burned away in the fire of His love. But one thing can stop us from giving God our failings: a lack of trust. Have you ever shared an area of struggle with someone just to have it used as a weapon against you later? Few things hurt more than when someone violates our trust. We might think every interaction should be preceded with a warning: “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you...” The problem is when we extrapolate our experience with human beings and assume it is the same with God.
Yes, I am a sinner; I sin, but my identity? I AM a BELOVED child of God.
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By: Ivonne J. Hernandez (This blog was originally published on 11/14/2020, but I needed this message again. I thought perhaps I’m not the only one...) I don’t know about you, but I’ve been feeling pretty tired lately, more than tired… depleted. Dealing with physical tiredness is something I am used to; in learning to manage my CMT (Charcot-Marie-Tooth), I have come to learn my physical limits and how to work around them. I know I need more rest than most people, and I am ok with that. But the mental and spiritual strain I’ve experienced this year is constantly testing my limits, and I’m having to learn, and accept, what those are. I am having to learn to spend more time in silence, more time in prayer. And while it can be tempting for us to try to separate our physical and mental needs from our spiritual needs, we are wholly human; one area will always affect the other. Our worries make us weary; the solution to this is rest. “Jesus told his disciples a parable about the necessity for them to pray always without becoming weary” (Luke 18:1). What happens when we allow ourselves to become weary? We can start to lose hope, and this is a danger we must avoid. A feeling of weariness lets us know that something is off and that balance needs to be restored. This restoration is a passive kind of work. When our bodies need healing, we must give the body what it needs and let it do its work. This is not easy. Ask anyone who has been on an extended bedrest; sometimes, the hardest thing we are asked to do is rest. But our bodies are not meant to work without ceasing. Our need for rest is clearly displayed in the work of Creation when God rested on the seventh day. “Remember the sabbath day—keep it holy” (Exodus 20:8). It is interesting to note, however, that what God commands us to do on this day of rest is pray. This is also not easy. While rest from our physical or mental labors means taking a break from work, this is different in our life of prayer, where resting is the actual work. The dictionary defines weary as “feeling or showing tiredness, especially as a result of excessive exertion or lack of sleep.” In our prayer, we experience this “excessive exertion” when we try to do the work of God ourselves. Think about it; God would not ask us to do something beyond our ability. He would not ask us to “pray always” if this depended on our limited human capacities. It is when we are faced with our limits that we can surrender to his infiniteness. It is in our poverty that we realize we need a Savior. “In the same way, the Spirit too comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings” (Romans 8:26). The only way we can pray always, without becoming weary, is when we allow ourselves to enter into His rest. “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light” (Matthew 11-28-30). A different translation says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Just like the restoration of the body requires us to give the body food and rest, the restoration of our souls requires us to give the soul its food and rest. This food our soul needs is the Eucharist, Jesus Christ Himself; He is also our place of rest. In this rest, His Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity mix with our body, mind, and spirit… healing the sick and restoring the broken. In this rest, we become truly whole…we become holy. So when you are feeling weary, do not despair. Lift your eyes to Heaven and enter into His rest.
“Tell us a bit about yourself.” That moment when a group meets for the first time and they ask everyone this question always gives me pause. Often, whoever answers first creates a pattern the rest of the group follows. Sometimes, they will say their name and where they come from. Other times, they will say their name, what they do for a living, and perhaps why they came to this particular meeting. How we answer that question can give us some insight, not only on how well we know ourselves, but on how secure we feel in our identity. Do we answer with a list of things we do, or do we talk about who we are? Does the answer depend on who is asking? Does it change depending on where we are?
Jesus first asks the disciples to tell Him what others say about Him, for He knows that is what our minds first look for. What is the people’s opinion, and where do we fall within that. But then He asks them as individuals. He asks them to step out of the crowd and seek the answer within their own hearts. “But who do you say that I am?” (Matthew 16:15) Do we know Jesus? Jesus, the Second Person of the Trinity, the Son of the Living God, the Messiah, the Bread of Life… Do we know Him? Or do we mainly know about Him? In other words, have we had a personal encounter with Jesus, or do we mainly know what others say about Him? Which is better? I’d like to propose that they are both good, yet one is definitely more important, as it is the goal of our existence. We are made to be in relationship with God. To encounter Him is to know Him. When we hear about Jesus, we will be moved to seek Him; we will thirst to meet Him. When we have an encounter with Jesus, we will be moved to learn everything we can about Him. Can a finite creature ever learn everything about infinite Love? The mind-blowing part of this love equation is that, though we will never know everything about God, He definitely knows everything about each one of us. He knows especially well the parts that are hidden even to our own selves. And, knowing everything about us, the good and the bad, He loves us. INFINITE LOVE loves me. This is who I am. Do I know this? Do I believe it? Do I receive it? What do we know of the story of the Samaritan Woman (John 4:4-42)? We know the woman at the well had an encounter with Jesus that transformed not only her life, but the lives of those around her. “Come see a man who told me everything I have done. Could he possibly be the Messiah?” (v.29). When we read between the lines, we realize that it is not just that He knew all she had done that changed her; the devil could do that too. But it was the experience of being fully known and fully loved that transformed her heart.
When she realized who was speaking to her, who was taking time to pay attention to her, to love her, it was then that she realized her worth.
“Body of Christ” As we hear these words and look up at the tiny host, do we realize WHO is asking to come into our flesh and be united with us? “Blood of Christ” As we hear these words and look up at the chalice, do we realize WHO is thirsting for us? When we say Amen, we are assenting that this is indeed the Living God, the Resurrected Jesus, the One Who died for us. Realizing who is speaking to us, who is taking the time to pay attention to and love us… What does that say about who we are? What does it say about who we belong to? If we want to know our truest, deepest identity, we must first seek within our hearts the answer to his question, “But who do you say that I am?”
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AuthorsWe are Ivonne J. Hernandez, Rick Hernandez and Laura Worhacz, Lay Associates of the Congregation of the Blessed Sacrament, and brothers and sisters in Christ. |