Being Advent-urous and Advent-itious

A Christian is an Advent person: Advent-urous and Advent-itious

Reflection for Advent

By Fr. Maximilian Buonocore, OSB

There are two Advent-words that I would like us to apply to ourselves this Advent season: Advent-urous and Advent-itious. Christian life can be seen as a great Advent-ure, and the Christian is called to be Advent-urous. As Christians we are Advent people called to engage in the great Advent-ure of bringing Christ to birth in our daily lives through our deeds of love and acts of mercy. During this season of Advent we are called to be extra Advent-urous, Advent-uring out of our comfort zone and into the zone of incarnational life. One of the ways that we can be Advent-urous is by making our home a microbrewery of holy BEER and drinking lots of that homemade holy BEER. That is what Newark Abbey is: a microbrewery of holy BEER. The monks consume an abundance of this holy BEER. The Rule of St. Benedict calls the monastery a school of the Lord’s service. But if you read between the lines you can see that what he really meant was that it is a microbrewery of the Lord’s service - a microbrewery of holy BEER. And what is this holy BEER that we brew and consume? The beer brewed at this monastery is B.E.E.R.: Bible; Eucharist, Expressions (Encounters) of love, and Reconciliation.

Bible: We read scripture daily in order to activate and enliven in our minds and hearts the mystery of the incarnational life through which God lifts us human beings in his Incarnate Son to a share in his divine life. During this Advent season, let us spend extra time meditating on Scripture, not just the nativity narratives, but others that teach us how the Incarnation impacts us personally. Let us spend extra time with scripture learning about what the Incarnation is all about: the expression of GOD’s desire to lift humans to a share in the divine life. The Bible tells us that Jesus shared in our human life so we could have a part in the divine life of GOD. That is the mystery that we are celebrating during this season, and we deepen our conscious connection to this mystery through our daily meditation of Holy Scripture. Next,

Eucharist: During this season we should not only foster an increased awareness of how we translate our faith in the Incarnation into incarnate expressions of love, but seek to be empowered to transform all of our encounters with other people into loving encounters with the Incarnate One in and through our encounters with other people, especially with those who are suffering. We foster this awareness, and empowerment by attending mass frequently and receiving the Holy Eucharist. Receiving the Body and Blood of Christ as the spiritual food of our souls is no mere commemoration of the Incarnation, but is a continuous making present of this great mystery in our lives. We are created to be eucharistic people, to be thanksgiving people, who continually in every moment, in every word, in every action, invite God’s loving transformative action, in and through us - to consecrate everything that we do, to “eucharist” everything that we do, uniting everything that we do to the great Eucharistic Sacrifice - the thanksgiving sacrifice of Christ’s Body and Blood, and thereby sacramentalizing it, so that everything that I say and do may be a sign of God’s presence, and a moment of grace, birthing Christ, as it were, in every moment, in every action of my daily life. Next,

Expressions of love: With the increased awareness and empowerment that I receive through the Holy Eucharist, I am able to better translate my faith in the Incarnation into incarnate expressions of love, especially to those who are suffering. This is the highest way that I can, in this life, respond to the promptings that flow from the image and likeness of God in me, and thereby incarnate God in the world as members of the Body of Christ. I can also hear in the sounding of the word Adventurous: Advent-you’re-us. That is, Advent-you-are-us. In a real sense, we are Advent: we are created to be Advent people. We make Christ come in the here-and-now. “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there I am in the midst of them,” says the Lord. (Matthew 18:20) We make Jesus come especially by our loving service. Each of us, being created in the image and likeness of the Word of God, is a kind of Advent: to make the Word manifest in the world, to incarnate the Word in the world. Yes, all of us, individually and collectively, are an Advent of Christ in the world. Whenever we make an expression of love, whether it be a kind word or a kind deed, we are communicating from the deepest truth of our being, of who we are as a human being, a being created in the image and likeness of God: an Advent being. We should use this season not only as an opportunity for growth in faith, but especially in its “incarnation” through Charity. And finally,

Reconciliation: – During this season, be reconciled to one another and to God. Most, if not all, of us will make an examination of conscience and participate in the sacrament of reconciliation during Advent. But I think it is also very important that we reflect, during this season, on any need that there may be for reconciliation with any person in our life that we may have offended or that has offended us. The most important message of the Advent season is the coming of - the Incarnation of - the loving mercy of God. Let us all be reconciled with one another during this Advent season so that the mystery of the incarnation of Christ will shine even brighter through each of us, and in our community life, during this Christmas season and beyond.

The other word that I would like us to apply to ourselves as Advent people is the word Advent-itious. When we incarnate the mercy of Christ, we are being adventitious. Giving flesh to the mercy of Christ is adventitious because it does not come naturally. It requires the divine intervention of grace. [According to Merriam-Webster, adventitious means “coming from another source and not inherent or innate.”] Forgiving is adventitious because it is not the result of a natural, innate tendency in us. We are not able to carry it out simply according to our natural tendencies, but we need an adventitious force/power, that is, grace. We are being Advent-itious whenever we engage in some activity that involves self-sacrifice that we are not naturally inclined to do. It is Advent-itious because it requires grace. It is Advent-itious because it incarnates Christ in the moment. As you know, the Incarnation is the begetting in creation, in time, of the divine Son begotten by the Father in eternity. But incarnation is not just something that happened 2000 years ago and is completed, but it is something that is an ongoing process with ongoing consequences. Incarnation is the ongoing action of the love of the Creator in and through the human beings that he has created in the image and likeness of his eternally begotten Son. Whenever I perform an act of love I am incarnating the divine Son in the moment.

So, let us go forth living our call as Christians to be Advent-urous. During this Advent season let us be Advent-urous as we drink joyfully and abundantly of holy BEER! And let us also be Advent-itious, being reconciled to one another; forgiving and being forgiven, and stepping outside our comfort zone to engage in self-sacrificing service to other people. That is how we can be truly Advent people, not just sitting around waiting for the coming of Christ, but actively - Advent-urously and Advent-itiously - bringing Christ to birth in our own lives and in the lives of others.

All for Jesus,

Fr. Max

Kings and Queens in Christ

 

Called To Be Members of the Royal Family of Christ

A Reflection for the Solemnity of Christ the King

By Fr. Maximilian Buonocore, OSB

It is quite noteworthy that the Catholic Church crowns the liturgical year with the Solemnity of Christ the King. It is a reminder that, although we refer to the largest season of the year as “Ordinary Time,” there has, in fact, been no such thing as ordinary time since the coming of Christ the King 2000 years ago. Since then, we have been living in Extraordinary Time - Apocalyptic Time. Since Pentecost, when Christ the King sent forth his Spirit upon the earth and in the hearts of his people, no moment can be considered ordinary. Every moment now can be an apocalyptic - a revelatory moment - in the life of a person of faith. Human beings, who were created in the image and likeness of God with both body and spirit, have always existed in a kind of “end-of-the-world” space because of their being at the boundary between the corporeal and the spiritual. In every moment, through a person’s actions, the realm of the spirit can have a revelatory effect in the world, especially when the action flows from love. Unfortunately, so often our actions flow more from the realm of worldly desire and self-interest, rather than from love. But in the end-of-the-world space, as it were, in which we exist as human persons - the apocalyptic realm of our existence as members of the Body of Christ - we are called to the freedom of members of a royal family - the divine family of the Holy Trinity - that is, as sons and daughters of God in Christ. As members of this royal family we are called to rule our lives and the world around us by the authority and power of love.

When we think of kingship, we naturally think of power. We are always, usually unconsciously, seeking ways to give ourselves a sense of power and control over our lives and the world around us. As a little humorous example, when I look at my shadow, it gives me a sense of power as I think to myself, “Rays of light traveled 93 million miles unobstructed, and I then stopped them from reaching the ground.” But what I really should be thinking is about how God has created me as a royal creature in his own image and likeness, my soul being as a lens to magnify divine light. I ought to be able to say with Mary, “My soul magnifies the Lord!” But instead, the lens of my soul is clouded by my sinful flesh. Pride and selfish ambition block the divine rays of the light of love which flow into me from eternity. The result is that I cast a shadow instead of casting a grace-filled glow of loving light befitting a member of the divine royal family.

Exercising worldly power and control can become a significant underlying motivation for us without us even realizing it. Even our good deeds can sometimes, without realizing it, become a way of giving us a sense of self-satisfaction and control. Recently, Fr. Asiel came with me to the Missionaries of Charity. He had never been there before. Sr. Benedict Ann, the local superior, came over to Fr. Asiel to introduce herself and to talk about their ministry. She explained to him that they run a women’s shelter, and have a soup kitchen. She said that they feed Jesus every day at the soup kitchen as they feed the poor who come there to eat. Fr. Asiel said to her, “What if you get before the Pearly Gates and find out that Jesus doesn't like soup?” After a short hesitation, and, laughing, she replied, “We make more than soup there.” Of course, Fr. Asiel said that to be humorous. But it does provide food for thought (pun intended). Jesus wants me to feed the hungry, but he wants me to do it with the care required by the demands of love. And what are the demands of love for me? For me, love demands that I serve others like I am serving the King himself. Love demands that I carry out my daily service with the awareness of the King’s presence in the others whom I am serving. Love demands that I carry out my service to others with the very care and concern that is demanded of a relationship with Christ the King. Since Christ the King demands that I love him with my whole mind, whole heart, whole soul, and whole strength, then I must therefore carry out my loving service of other people with my whole mind, heart, soul, and body engaged. In the parable of the Judgment of the Nations (Matthew 25:31-40), Jesus says, “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit upon his glorious throne, and all the nations will be assembled before him. And he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left. Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.’” The king welcomes those on his right into the heavenly kingdom because they are already members of the divine royal family. Unlike those on the King’s left, they have lived their lives as divine royalty, ruling their lives by the authority of love. We know what Jesus says to those on his left. Jesus could just as well have said to them: I created you in the image and likeness of God to shine forth with royal splendor, with the being and life of royal priesthood. I endowed you with the capacity to exercise divine authority – the divine authority of love. But you refused. You chose to remain enslaved to the worldly authority of selfish ambition. I called you to the freedom of sons and daughters of God, but you chose the servitude of slaves to the flesh.

The parable of the Judgment of the Nations is central to my sense of vocation. For me parables are not informational. Parables are formational. A parable is not meant to merely teach a lesson. A parable does not merely convey information and instruction about a moral principle, but is meant to form the moral principle in the heart of the person who meditates upon it. Parables instill moral principles primarily through the stimulation of the imagination and memory, rather than through conceptual understanding. Jesus used parables, such as the Parable of the Judgement of the Nations, to stimulate our imagination and memory so that every moment of decision about how to act and respond toward other people will be a revelatory - an apocalyptic moment - a moment of challenge to jolt us out of our comfort zone. For me, in every moment, every decision becomes a decision made before Christ the King himself. As I am making a decision about how to respond to another person, I see it as a choice of choosing an action which invites Jesus’ invitation for me to move over to his right, or choosing an action which invites the invitation for me to move to his left. Of course, I always start out my day on Jesus' right, but as the day progresses I sometimes see myself shifting to his left. Of course, I always endeavor to get back onto his right by bedtime, or else I will not be able to sleep. And how do I get back on his right? Through acts of love - through self-sacrificing service.

We are called to be kings and queens - members of the royal family of Christ - through the exercise of the power and authority of love. But we often seek to be kings and queens through the exercise of the authority of worldly power that flows from selfish ambition. Let me explain with the use of a parable: Once there was a stonecutter who was bored and unhappy with his job because it did not give him a sense of authority and control over his life. One morning, as he was cutting stones, he saw the king pass by. He prayed to God: “Lord, please make me the king because I am tired of being a stonecutter. It seems good to be king.” Instantly, the Lord made him a king. While he was a king he was walking along a road one day and found the sun much too hot. He said to God: “It seems the sun is more powerful than the king. I would like to be the sun.” Instantly, the Lord made him the sun. As he was shining brightly one morning, he found that the clouds were blocking his sunshine, then he thought to himself: “It seems as though the clouds are better than the sun because they can obstruct my sunshine.” So he said to the Lord: “I want to be the clouds.” He became the clouds. As the clouds he also became the rain that poured down on the earth becoming a great flood. He said to himself: “I am now very powerful.” But then he noticed a big rock that blocked his flow. He said to himself: “It seems the stone is more powerful than I am. I want to be this stone.” Then he became the stone. One morning, a stonecutter started to cut him into smaller pieces. He said: “It seems the stonecutter is more powerful than I am. I want to be a stonecutter.” Then he instantly became a stonecutter - what he originally was. We, like this stonecutter, are always trying to achieve and advance to gain greater power and control over this world. But what we need to realize is that we are able to be a king and exercise true mastery through the mastery of our particular craft exercised with the authority and the power of love. Then we are true kings in the presence of Christ the King.

All for Jesus,

Fr. Max

Judging Is Contrary To Loving

 

Stop Judging So That You May Love

A Reflection by Fr. Maximilian Buonocore, OSB

Scripture Reading:
Romans 14:7-12

Leaving church one Sunday, a woman said to her husband, "Do you think that Flanagan girl is dyeing her hair?" "I didn't notice her," replied the husband. "And that skirt Mrs. Jones was wearing. . ." continued the wife. "that’s very inappropriate attire for a mother of four, don't you think so??" "I'm afraid I didn't notice that either," said the husband. “Well then, surely you noticed how Sean McConnaghy was giving so much attention to that young lady who was seated near him. He’s a married man.” “Well, dear,” replied the husband once again, “I didn’t notice them either.” "Huh!" scoffed the wife. "A lot of good it does bringing YOU to church."

Today we heard St. Paul say, “Why do you pass judgment on your brother or sister? Or you, why do you despise your brother or sister?” This echoes Jesus words in the Gospel, “Stop judging, that you may not be judged.” Yet, not only do we not refrain from judging, but we . . . I know I do . . . even sit in church, or in the monastic refectory, looking around at some other person or persons and making judgments about them.

When we judge another person we “point the finger” at them - usually in a metaphorical sense, but sometimes quite literally. How often we “point the finger” at others. My father strictly forbade us from pointing anything at another person, whether it was our finger, or a stick, or anything else. He very vehemently forbade us from pointing at someone, especially if what we were pointing imitated a gun. We were strictly forbidden to play war games with our toy guns. We were not allowed to point even a water pistol at another person. If paintball had existed when I was growing up, my father would have strictly forbidden us to do that. He would sternly correct us whenever we would point our finger at someone. Perhaps his revulsion for pointing things at another person, especially when the object being pointed was imitating a weapon, was a consequence of the horrific experiences that he had during World War II. “Pointing the finger” feeds into anger, and anger into violence. The pointing of the finger certainly does imitate the pointing of a pistol, and judging is a subtle weapon. I believe that my father was correct in his belief that “pointing the finger” and passing judgment can indeed be a kind of wielding of a weapon, however subtle it may be. Even if we disregard the idea of “pointing the finger” as a kind of weapon, it certainly can be regarded as a way of putting oneself in a position of power over another person. When I judge another person I am setting myself above that person, as though I am able to know the heart of that person. We may not realize it but “pointing the finger” and judging another person gives us an illusion of power and control over that person. For this reason judging is contrary to humility, and is therefore contrary to love. My father would sometimes remind us of that old axiom: “Whenever you point a finger at someone, there are three fingers pointing back at you.” This reflects the words of St. Paul: “For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God;” and the words of Jesus: “For as you judge, so will you be judged . . . the measure with which you measure will be measured out to you.”

I remember once seeing a cartoon which depicted an open closet door with skeletons falling out, and the caption read: “While you were busy judging others, you left your closet open. Ooops!”

Judging contradicts loving: it builds a barrier to block loving interaction. Judging serves as a way of rationalizing my own reticence or even inability to step out of my comfort zone to be charitable and show mercy when doing so is difficult. Judging rationalizes away my stubbornness and unwillingness to imitate God, the Good Shepherd, to go the long distance over rough terrain to find and bring back the lost sheep. Judging helps to rationalize away my apathy and sluggishness about imitating God, the furiously sweeping woman, lighting the lamp and sweeping the house energetically in search of the lost coin. Judging lends a certain sense of legitimacy, justifiability, or acceptability to my own lack of charity. There is no loving God independently of loving our neighbor. I remember going a whole year avoiding a confrere in the monastery who offended me. I wouldn’t sit near him at table or other social settings to talk. During that year I received Holy Communion daily and would engage in my usual morning meditation before the Blessed Sacrament. One day, as I was meditating before the Blessed Sacrament, that passage from John came to my mind: “If anyone says, “I love God,” but hates his brother, he is a liar; for whoever does not love a brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen. This is the commandment we have from him: whoever loves God must also love his brother (John 4:20-21). I suddenly felt a deep crisis of conscience: I was receiving Jesus in the Holy Eucharist every day and adoring him in the Blessed Sacrament while at the same time holding a grudge toward a confrere. During that year, I was speaking to God the very same way that I was speaking to my confrere: very graciously, and very superficially. That day I sought him out and got together to talk. What was so funny (or, I should say, sad; certainly embarrassing to acknowledge,) was that I could not for the life of me remember just what it was that caused me to feel so offended and feel so angry. He couldn’t remember either. While I was judging, I left my closet open. Ooops!!

All for Jesus,

Fr. Max

Becoming Love In Imitation Of The Good Shepherd

 

Our nature is to be like God: one who seeks to save

Even when the nature of the one whom we are trying to save is to sting

A Reflection by Fr. Maximilian Buonocore, OSB

Scripture Reading:
Luke 15:1-10

Henri Nouwen told a parable about an old man who used to meditate each day near the Ganges River in India. One morning he saw a scorpion floating on the water. When the scorpion drifted near the old man he reached to rescue it but was stung by it. A bit later he tried again and was stung again, the bite swelling his hand painfully and giving him much pain. Another man passing by saw what was happening and yelled at the old man, “Hey, old man, what’s wrong with you? Only a fool would risk his life for the sake of an ugly, evil creature. Don’t you know you could kill yourself trying to save that ungrateful scorpion?” The old man calmly replied, “My friend, just because it is in the scorpion’s nature to sting, does not change my nature to save.” It is God’s nature to save because it is God’s nature to love, because God is love. God seeks the lost, heals the wounded, forgives the offender and gives hope to those who are in despair. This is what God does because this is what God is. Because we are created in the image and likeness of God, this is also what we are called to be, assisted by God’s grace: to be one who seeks the lost, heals the wounded, forgives the offender, and gives hope to those who are in despair. We are called to love our enemies, to forgive those who hurt us, especially the ones who seem to have in their nature a natural tendency to hurt us. We can love even them because our nature has become transformed in Christ into a nature that is supernaturally inclined to save, a nature that spontaneously imitates the Good Shepherd in going the long distance over rough terrain, whatever the cost, to find and bring back the lost sheep; a nature that spontaneously imitates God, the furiously sweeping woman, lighting the lamp and sweeping the house energetically in search of the lost coin. Our nature can become so transformed by grace that we can use the expression normally applied only to God: God is love. We can say, like St. Thérèse de Lisieux: “I will be love.” As she said in The Story of a Soul, “Then, overcome by joy, I cried, 'Jesus, my love. At last I have found my vocation. My vocation is love. In the heart of the Church, my mother, I will be love . . .” This is our vocation as Christians: to be love; to be able to feel compassion, as God does, even for those who have hurt us most; to be one who forgives even the worst of sinners; to be one who seeks to save especially those most gripped by sin, drowning, as it were, like the scorpion, in the river of their sinfulness, even when they sting us, recognizing that that scorpion was once us, or may very well be us, as we are now. We are called to be love, like God, to be able to gaze upon every person to see with spiritual vision the image and likeness of God in them; to be able to grasp with spiritual perception the infinite significance that each person has in the mind of God; and to be able to sense with spiritual compassion the infinite dignity that each person has in the heart of God.

All for Jesus,

Fr. Max

We Are All Called To Be Saints

 

“May he bring us all together to everlasting life.”

Reflection for All-Saints Day

By Fr. Maximilian Buonocore, OSB

Today we celebrate the feast of All Saints. We are celebrating all of the saints who have gone before us and who enjoy the peace and joy of heaven. But we are also celebrating the saints who are still among us – all around us – who are responding to the Spirit in them to live a life oriented to the end to which we are called – to know and love God perfectly.

Let me tell you a story about this. A man died and appeared before the Pearly Gates. St. Peter greeted him and said, "Here's how it works. You need 100 points to make it into heaven. You tell me all the good things you've done, and I will give you a certain number of points for each item, depending on how good it was. When you reach 100 points, I will open the Pearly Gates and you can enter." "Okay," the man says, feeling very confident, "Well, first of all, I was married to the same woman for 50 years and never cheated on her, not even in my heart." "That's wonderful," said St. Peter, "that's worth three points!" "Just three points?" said the man. "Well, I attended church all my life and supported its ministry with my tithing and service. I taught religious instruction and Bible study and was on the evangelization committee." "Terrific!" said St. Peter. "That's certainly worth a point." "Wait, One point?!!" replied the man disappointedly. "Well then, I started a soup kitchen in my city and worked in a shelter for homeless veterans, participated in various organizations to promote social justice." "Fantastic, that's good for another two points," said St. Peter. "Two points!?!!" said the man. Exasperated, the man cries out, "At this rate, the only way I'll get into heaven is by the grace of God." "Bingo, 100 points!” said St. Peter, “Come on in!"

The man in this story was indeed a saint, but there was still something that he needed to learn; and that was that living a life of faith and holiness is a gift. As a gift, we do not earn it. The merits in our virtue and our good works are the merits of the Holy Spirit who works through us to make his presence known and felt in the world. The saints are the instruments of the work of the Spirit in the World. We, too, are instruments of the Holy Spirit by the very fact that each of us has been created in the image and likeness of God, as St. Paul says, for good works. “For we are his handiwork, created in Christ Jesus for the good works that God has prepared in advance, that we should live in them. For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not from you; it is the gift of God; it is not from works, so no one may boast. (Ephesians 2:9-11) So, we are all called to be saints by virtue of being created in the image and likeness of God as his handiwork. The one characteristic that is seen in every saint is that they are spontaneous in doing good works. But the good works are not in themselves what saves them, nor is it even their faith that saves them. Faith and good works are the manifestation of the Holy Spirit’s saving power at work in them.

Remember, holiness isn’t something that we achieve. It is a divine impulse in which we share, and it is much too big for us to experience alone. As we all together share in the experience of sin and death, so too do we all together share in holiness and life. Each person is already implanted with the Spirit and the grace of God. The main thing that can prevent us from living by the power of God’s grace is not being aware that we have it. One day I asked some students: what do you have to do to become a saint? One of the students responded: “You have to die.” No! Becoming a saint is something that happens now. We are all children of God, not later when we die, but now, at this very moment and all through our lives. Whether you are a lay person or a religious brother or sister or a priest. [Christian or a Moslem or Jewish or Hindu or Buddhist], you are called to be a saint. Even if you are presently in serious doubt about the existence of God or the presence of God in your life, you are called to be a saint, because you are called upon to act upon the very impulse that flows from the image and likeness of God in you. That very impulse in you prompts you to feed the hungry and give drink to the thirsty. It prompts you to welcome the stranger and care for the sick. It prompts your concern for social justice and care of the environment. A person may spend many years acting on these impulses before they come to a clear, conscious awareness of the Holy Spirit at work in them. But it will come; and it will come in God’s time. You may have to endure years of doubt before you receive the special grace of the awareness of the personal encounter with God that you have every time you do something good for another person and serve the needs of others. But you are doing just that: encountering God every time you do a good deed for another person or serve the cause of social justice. As Jesus said, “Whatever you did for the least one of my brothers or sisters you did for me.” This saying of Jesus is echoed in the motto of St. Benedict’s Prep: Whatever hurts my brother hurts me; and whatever helps my brother helps me. This is because we are all children of God united in his Son, and therefore are all connected in our calling to holiness and happiness in God.

So let us always take seriously our call to be saints, and daily support one another in our efforts through prayer, example and personal support, and, as St. Benedict says, “. . . may he bring us all together to everlasting life.”

All for Jesus,

Fr. Max

Being a Saint is Being a God-Choice

 

True freedom-of-choice is allowing oneself to be a God-choice

Reflection for All-Saints Day

By Fr. Maximilian Buonocore, OSB

There was a U.S. senator who was a staunch defender of freedom of choice, and defended this position until the day he died. When he died, he stood before the Pearly Gates. Peter greeted him and said, “You have been chosen by God to enter into heavenly bliss.” “Chosen?” exclaimed the senator with dismay, “I have always been a staunch defender of freedom of choice, and I think that this choice should extend to this life as well.” I feel like I should be able to make a well informed choice between heaven and hell. I propose that the Lord allow me to spend a few days in heaven to see how that is, and then a few days in hell to see how that is. Then I can make an informed choice.” “That is highly irregular,” replied Peter, “but I will go and see what the Lord has to say.” Peter went in and spoke to the Lord, then he came out and said to the senator, “Okay, the Lord said that he will allow you to exercise your freedom of choice at this vital juncture. You can come into heaven for a few days, and then you can then spend a few days in hell to see how that is.” Delighted by the Lord’s acceding to him his freedom of choice, he entered through the Pearly Gates, spending a few days in heaven. He found the blissful contemplation of the glory of God to be quite satisfactory, but he was still anxious to see what it was like in hell. After a few days, St. Peter came to him and said, “Okay, senator, it is time for your sojourn in hell.” Satan was delighted to hear that the senator was coming for a stay. Satan came personally to escort him in a grand limousine. “Senator, it is so wonderful to finally meet you in person. I have been supporting you and your freedom of choice position for so long. I am so pleased that you have stuck with your freedom of choice position and defended it to the end. I am sure that you will find our life down here very comfortable and I encourage you to exercise your freedom of choice position and choose our life here.” When they arrived in hell, there was a red carpet for the senator. He was welcomed into a mansion where there were many servants. The senator was served his favorite foods; he had the company of beautiful women; there was a large swimming pool in the back and a Jacuzzi. He had his own golf course, and was able to engage in stimulating conversations with many other intellectuals there, and was invited to give speeches to much applause. When his several days were over, he was escorted by Satan in the limousine back to the Pearly Gates. St. Peter came out and, greeting him, asked him, “Now that you had the opportunity to make an informed choice, what is your choice?” “Well,” replied the pro-choice senator, “Heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell. I exercise my freedom of choice right and choose hell.” “Alright,” said St. Peter, and escorting him to an elevator, tells him to step in, and he goes rapidly down, down, and further down. When the elevator stops the doors open and there he is, in the middle of a barren land where it is very hot. There is no red carpet to welcome him, and the land is covered with waste and garbage. He sees all his people that he met on his previous stay dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags as more trash falls to the ground. The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulders, and says, “My dear Senator, I am so glad you exercised your freedom of choice right, and chose hell.” "I don't understand," stammers the Senator. "Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there's just a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable. What happened?" “Well,” replied the devil, “yesterday we were campaigning. Today, you voted.” What is so striking about this story is that the senator chose to exercise his freedom of choice to defy/reject his status as chosen by God for eternal happiness. So often, our exercise of our freedom is for the purpose of pursuing our self-interest in acquiring material comforts and attaining to achievements that will improve our status and reputation; and this is so often done without regard for our chosen status as children of God, without reference to our being chosen by God to be united in love with one another and to God in the bond of eternal loving mercy. The comforts and status that we achieve in this way are temporary and fleeting, and often illusory. The freedom that we are exercising is actually not true freedom. It is the compulsion of self-interest, and it gives us no rest, no lasting comfort, and, in fact, causes us much anxiety and stress most of the time. True freedom is allowing ourselves to simply be what God has chosen us to be: a child of God. True freedom is allowing ourselves to be chosen – to be God’s choice. True freedom of choice is allowing ourselves to be a free choice by God – allowing ourselves to be a God-choice. That is what a saint is: a person who has exercised his or her true human freedom to allow him or herself to be God’s choice. So many of our choices in this life that are made with the intention of exercising our freedom of choice may be informed by very well devised and thought-out reasoning, and may seem perfectly acceptable because they give us the opportunity to exercise our rights and freedoms, but, if our choices are not informed by the most important factor – the Love of the Holy Spirit – then our choices may not be heavenward-directed choices. Heavenward-directed choices are directed by faith and powered by love. This is what makes a person a saint: they exercise their God-given freedom of choice to make decisions which are informed by faith and powered by the Spirit of Love, rather than being informed merely by reason and powered by self-interest. The choices that they make are made with the true freedom of choice of a child of God. They allow themselves to be what they are called to be: a God-choice, and filled with God’s Spirit of love. Every choice that they make becomes a God-choice because it flows from love. True freedom is love. True freedom of choice is allowing ourselves to be a God-choice from which flow divine choices that are imbued with the infinite and eternal choice of loving mercy. True freedom of choice is found in the infinite and eternal Choice of divine life, into which we are all chosen to be bonded together in the freedom of God’s love. We are all called to true freedom of choice because of the fact that we are all chosen. We are called to be bonded in the mystical communion of saints: the mystical communion of God’s chosen ones, the mystical communion of the infinite and eternal Choice of divine life.

All for Jesus,

Fr. Max