Distress over the future again weaves itself through popular culture especially after we’ve been navigating the COVID-19 pandemic over the past two years. Uncertainty seems to engulf those on the fringe with paranoia, colors the majority with cynicism and does nothing but divide families and friends.

For the past two millennia, Christians have looked to the future and asked, "When, Lord, when?" Jesus answers this question in today’s gospel.  He reminds the disciples that the coming day of the Lord should be approached in two ways…with active anticipation and faith. Look for signs, Jesus told His followers, but trust in the Lord's time, not your own.
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How did his disciples know Jesus spoke the truth? Jesus gave a farming analogy of the fig tree (Mark 13:28) to support His belief in God's immanent judgement. Then He compared God's creation to His words. Nature changed, but His words would not; they were eternal and, so, trustworthy (Mark 13:31).

After all that, Jesus said that only God knew the day (the time frame) or the hour (the exact moment) of these events (Mark 13:32) But we are an impatient people, and we hate waiting.  So, Jesus challenges all of us to see the process through God's eyes. These things would happen in God's time, not ours.

So, when are You coming, Lord, when!? While we might not be consumed with this question all the time, personal anxiety in life will cause us to ask the question on occasion. Jesus' answer to us is the same one He gave His followers two thousand years ago. Look for signs of His coming in the chaos of life. And trust in His time of your deliverance. Rest assured; He will come at the right time!

Peace,
Deborah Gretzinger (No R.E.Gretz)

In this weekend's first reading (Ez 17:22-24), the prophet Ezekiel offers a beautiful image of tearing off “a tender shoot” from a cedar tree and planting it on a high mountain. The cedar tree has a unique aroma and the supple nature of its young branches. What if we applied this image to our own discipleship.
 
A tender shoot, torn off a more mature branch, can be planted straight into the ground. This little shoot–like you and me–may have been comfortable where it was, but it has been called to another task. It is young, but it has a powerful life force within it. This shoot has been carefully selected and planted with great purpose. Like this little branch, you and I are sometimes thrust into positions that we didn’t choose, but we always have the ability to choose how we respond.
 
With summer upon us and the lure of going on vacation or going “up north” an ever-present temptation, do we continue to truly “bloom where we are planted”?  Do we keep God first even when we are away from home?  Is the desire to please God and live by His commandments foremost in our hearts even if we are in a new location?  That challenge is also echoed in St. Paul’s Second Letter to the Corinthians (5:6-10)….to be courageous….to be disciples of Christ….to evangelize….to live the faith no matter where we are, who we are with, or who is watching. Will you live up to the challenge?

Peace,
Deborah Gretzinger (No R.E.-Gretz)

This weekend’s gospel is a sort of vision and mission statement of Jesus: love one another. It highlights the love Jesus has for us, His call, and His hope that we will bear fruit in this life.

Our baptism is the first recalling of that love, that promise of care and protection for this life and into eternity.  It joins us to the Catholic Christian community of love received and love shared.

More than that – our baptism is a call to follow in love since now that we have experienced that love, we are compelled to act on that love and take on the characteristics of being a follower of Jesus in care, love and compassion for others.

Even more than that – we are to bear fruit. The call of Jesus is to share in the salvation of the world, in making the world a better place to live in for everyone. A follower of Jesus is committed to care for the earth and care for others. Love for the earth and love of each and all is ‘fruit that will last’.  Pope Francis, during a prayer vigil at World Youth Day in Rio de Janiero in 2013, said, “please, don’t be observers of life, but get involved. Jesus did not remain an observer, but he immersed himself. Don’t be observers, but immerse yourself in the reality of life, as Jesus did.”

It is a high calling, challenging to us at all ages – for the young when making decisions about life…to follow through on our promise to serve God well at all ages of life…and to surrender much to Him as we age and become elderly.

The love, the call and our service are at the root of a great and sustaining joy in life as Jesus wants ‘our joy to be complete’ and we join our lives to his vision of the world and how it might be. So let’s begin today to immerse ourselves in life as we embrace and live out Jesus’ mission statement to love one another.

This past weekend's (4/24-25) first reading from the Acts of the Apostles begins by reminding us that Peter was filled with the Holy Spirit.  The Spirit filled Peter with wisdom, understanding, fortitude and knowledge so he was emboldened to speak the Truth…that Jesus Christ is the foundation, the cornerstone.  He didn’t fear the leaders of the people or the elders because he knew that “there is no salvation through anyone else, nor is there any other name under heaven given to the human race by which we are to be saved” (Acts 4:12).

How often are we like Peter?  How many of us speak the truth with love and do courageous things for Jesus Christ?  How often have we known the Holy Spirit is asking us to say something…to do something…to stand up for what it right?  How often have we defended our faith?  We are all filled with the Holy Spirit by virtue of our baptism, and we are all called to be like Peter.  The Holy Spirit is calling us to till and cultivate the cultural soil right now…to plant the seeds of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.  The time is now to let the Holy Spirit inspire us to use our God-given gifts and talents to rebuild a world torn apart by post-modernism and relativism.  Because we were made for such a time as this.  Amen? Amen!

​“There is no greater wealth than peace of mind.”

I love this quote...and it fits perfectly with the passage from Luke 24:35-48

The disciples were astonished and terrified as Jesus approached them. The crucifixion had come and gone. Jesus was dead. And yet, there He stood in their midst. “Peace be with you,” Jesus spoke.

Jesus comes to us too…even when we sometimes sit startled and terrified in the mess…the mess of day-to-day struggles, broken relationships, illness, financial hardship…the list is endless. But Jesus still comes to bring us peace of mind, relieve our anxious hearts, and invite us to trust Him on the journey. Because the mess…the suffering…is never the end of the story.  Not with Jesus.
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So invite Him to come to you today and be your peace. Ask Him to help you to focus on the promise and not the mess. 

Throughout his letters to the various communities of faith, St. Paul offers some excellent advice. In next weekend’s second reading from his letter to the Philippians (Phil 4:6-9) he urges them to “…have no anxiety at all…the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (4:6-7). Of course, that’s great in theory, but the reality of living through the last seven months of 2020 with all its struggles may have us remembering the old adage, “easier said than done.”
 
But St. Paul is trying to remind us that if we trust in the Lord, if we turn to the Lord regularly, if we view the Lord as our constant companion and supporter, many of the trials we face and many of the burdens we bear will be easier. Not gone…not resolved…but easier.  People who have a consistent and faith-filled prayer life understand both what St. Paul is saying and the truth of what he says.
 
Two important facets of the Catholic Christ life are prayer and trust. Too often we may become overly self-reliant, trying to carry our crosses alone without the help of the Lord. When we develop a prayer life and an awareness that Jesus is there to help, every day in every way, the world can be a much more positive place. As St. Paul tells us in the final verse of next weekend’s second reading if we do all of this “then the God of peace will be with you.” So each day, we each need to do our best to hand over our worries to the Lord and trust Him because He’s got this.  I promise.

All you who are thirsty, come to the water! You who have no money, come, receive grain and eat; Come, without paying and without cost, drink wine and milk! Isaiah 55:1
 
If you awoke this morning with the power to solve the global COVID-19 pandemic, I just know you’d go right out and do it. You’d barely stop for a breakfast at Bay Family or a cup of coffee or tea from Crystal Coffee, just thinking of those needy millions depending on you in their suffering. You would use this power even if it involved sacrifice and difficulty because you’re a good person. You care about your fellow human beings. You feel compassion. Your heart works.

The funny thing is that, in fact, we do have the power to end this pandemic. What we don’t have is the will—that is, the personal or political will—to get behind the policies that would make it happen. While as individuals we’re well-meaning and kind, in the realm of public policy, we’re self-protecting, self-serving, and self-absorbed. Our hearts may work. But we’re also scared of the cost of caring.
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When we think about doing justice, we often think about giving of our surplus because that doesn’t affect how we live our day to day lives. That solution works fine, so long as we’re not unduly affected or we don’t have to give up too much. But what if we actually have to sacrifice for others? What if we actually have to get out of our comfort zone? If that’s the case, are we still willing to work for justice?  This is the conversation we don’t want to have about justice: that it will cost some of us the lifestyle we’ve grown accustomed to. We could solve the COVID-19 pandemic if we dared. But what kind of miracle would it take to get you and me to make the sacrifice?
 
Reflection Question. To what extent are you and I willing to sacrifice so that this pandemic can end? St. Mother Teresa used to say: "Live simply so that others may simply live." Are you up to the challenge?

So this is my first blog post of 2020 and the first one I’ve felt compelled to write since last summer.

A recent Gospel passage stoked the desire to write again. It related a story of people bringing a blind man to Jesus and begging Him to touch him (Mark 8:22-26). As I reflected on the story, several questions surfaced.  Why didn’t the man ask Jesus for healing himself? Was he physically unable to ask for help? Or was it something deeper? Was there no light at the end of the tunnel for him?  Had he given up hope for healing? Was his suffering so overwhelming that he could no longer find the motivation or desire to seek help for himself?

Those questions don’t seem so unusual to me because I’ve been there. Over the past two years, my struggle with my physical health has directly impacted my spiritual, emotional and mental well-being.  Like the blind man in need of healing, I’ve often felt there was no hope left for me. And although I’ve verbally voiced a belief in the promises Jesus makes in Scripture, I’ve lacked the internal confidence to trust Him with my most vulnerable needs. I’ve been a hearer who forgets (James 1:22-24). I understand God’s Word, but I don’t always let it penetrate my heart.

Are you like me or the blind man in Mark’s Gospel story? Is your own healing process moving at a snail’s pace? Is it painful, sad, confusing or scary? Do you feel like there’s no hope left for you?

We’re coming up on the season of Lent, a season of mercy and repentance, but one that can seem to last forever (40 days of giving something up can seem like a lifetime).  Lent can seem painful, sad, scary and confusing as we march towards Jesus’ torture and death.

But we need to remember that there is light at the end of the tunnel, and there is hope at the end of Lent.  Jesus’ resurrection, bringing us healing…from death to new life, promises that light and that hope.

I’ve recently undergone new treatment and therapy to help alleviate the partial facial paralysis left over from my bout of Bell’s Palsy, and for the first time in a very long time, I’m starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.  And although it’s still painful and sad and confusing and scary, my hope has been restored.

If you’re suffering today, take a moment to look for the light.  Let Jesus take you by the hand and ignite that tiny spark of hope in your heart. It might take patience and work, but He will relieve your suffering.  He promises.
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Peace,
Deborah Gretzinger (No R.E. Gretz)

So I read Becky Eldredge’s Busy Lives and Restless Souls: How Prayer Can Help You Find the Missing Peace in Your Life as part of a book club this summer. Through a series of personal stories, Becky shares how Ignatian spirituality transformed her life as a person, as a wife, as a mother and as a daughter of God.

And while I’m still not sure if Ignatian spirituality is for me, as I came to the end of the book, the chapters turned to praying through tough times, and these two questions stopped me in my tracks: “Are you still in if the answer is no? Are you willing to remain in a relationship with me [God] if the answer to your prayer requests is no?”

Whoa.  Dang.

Although I don’t remember God ever asking me that, I have definitely been in situations in my life where I felt compelled to address that question.  And while I’ve never answered that question definitively “no,” I have, at times I’m ashamed to admit, put my relationship with God on hold…stepped back as it were to figure things out. But as I continue on my journey of faith, I’ve discovered that my life WITHOUT God is much more difficult than it is when I walk WITH Him.

Looking at the world around me, I believe too many people answer those questions definitively and negatively. “No, God, I will not remain in relationship with you in the tough times especially if you don’t answer my prayers the way I want you to.” But if we stop to think about our lives, how often do we get what we want? How often have we been told “no?”  How often have we told others “no?”  When we get told “no” or when we say “no,” so often it’s to protect us from something.  Perhaps our unanswered prayers (or when God tells us “no”) is for the same reason.  As parents protect their children by saying “no,” God in His infinite wisdom is protecting us as well. And as we remain in relationship with those we love even when they tell us “no,” we need to remain in relationship with God who might also tell us “no.”

So as perhaps we should keep in mind the lyrics from country artist Garth Brooks sings, “Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers. Remember when you're talkin' to the man upstairs that just because he doesn't answer doesn't mean he don't care…Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers” as we remain in relationship with the One who loves us most…who loves us enough to tell us “no.”

Peace,
Deborah Gretzinger (No R.E. Gretz)

People have all sorts of excuses for refusing to follow Jesus. It might be family commitments or the ties of home. For some, following Jesus conflicts with their career aspirations or challenges their view of the world.
 
We fall into denial and the excuse of ‘if/then.’  If/then thinking is deciding not to do something because we assume the ‘then’ happening must take place before we take action. For example, in this weekend's Gospel, the would-be disciples tell Jesus “If I can bury my father, then I can follow You” (Lk 9:59) and “If I can say goodbye to my family, then I can follow You” (Lk 9:61). In the 21st century, we might say something similar like “If the sporting event gets cancelled, then I can go to Mass this weekend” or “If I had a few extra hours in my day, then I can make time to pray” or “If I had a few extra dollars, then I can donate it to the church.”
 
But Jesus reminds all of us that Christianity is a challenge, and our excuses are just that…excuses. Jesus values God more than safe sleep, more than family events or job obligations, even more than courtesy to relatives and friends. And so should we.  
 
Jesus is clear; He must come first. And while this might seem harsh and “unloving,” Jesus gave everything for us. He laid down His life to rescue us from sin.  Should He not expect the same from us?
 
So be aware of the excuses you give yourself.  Take action.  Place more value on what really matters and run toward the One who loves you most.

Peace,
Deborah Gretzinger (no R.E.-Gretz)