Lent Day 14 - Disciplining Our Bodies

When it comes to our bodies, Catholics are not dualists or Puritans. We don't think that the flesh is, in itself, sinful or problematic. However, we do know that the desires of the body have become, through the fall, disordered. They are no longer consistently subordinated to reason and, consequently, these desires can appear in exaggerated form or assert themselves disproportionately. Thomas Merton once commented that the needs of the body--food, drink, sleep, and sex--are like insistent children that demand to have their way. Just as children have to be disciplined lest they come to dominate the household, so the desires of the flesh have to be curtailed lest they come to monopolize all of our energies. Merton said that we fast from time to time precisely to allow the deeper spiritual hungers to surface and be satisfied. The use of bodily discipline is thus a vivid reminder to oneself that the pleasure of the body is not one's determining and ultimate good. This is not unique to Catholicism. Stop and consider for a moment the activities that go on every day in the typical gym. People labor away on stationary bikes, elliptical machines, and treadmills; they sweat their way through pull-ups, push-ups, and deadlifts. In all sorts of ways, they discipline their bodies so as to overcome the natural tendency toward laziness and self-indulgence. More to it, these same people most likely deny themselves all sorts of pleasurable foods, resisting cravings. All of this punishment is in service of a healthier body. Why can't we apply similar techniques to produce healthier minds and spirits? Today, discipline your body in some small way. Maybe give up snacking between meals, only drink room-temperature water, or pray an entire rosary while walking. These simple bodily disciplines will undoubtedly strengthen your soul.

"The use of bodily discipline is vivid reminder to oneself that the pleasure of the body is not one's determining and ultimate good." - Father Robert Barron

Lent Day 13 - The Portable Monastery

What is prayer? Saint John of Damascus said, "Prayer is the raising of one's mind and heart to God." When someone asked Thomas Merton to reveal the one thing he should do to improve his prayer life, Merton responded: "Take the time." During Lent, we must consciously take the time to raise our hearts and minds to God. We seek communion with God through friendship and conversation. But how do we do this in our busy lives? One thing I often recommend is praying in the car (or in the subway, bus, train, etc.) For those of us distracted by a thousand things, and who are constantly on the move, the car can be a bit like a monastic cell. It encloses you within a quiet, meditative space conducive to prayer. Also, as an added bonus, when you treat your car as a monastery, traffic becomes a welcome opportunity for more prayer and silence, rather than a cause of frustration. Now, I understand this will be easier for some than others. For example, mothers of young children may have a difficult time cultivating a quiet space. But to the extent that you're able, consider turning off the radio today. Put away your phone. Use your travel time to raise your mind and heart to God. Maybe you pray the Rosary, or perhaps you converse with God about your day. But whatever you decide, take the time. Turn your car into a monastery.

"Turn off your radio today. Put away your phone. Use your travel time to raise your mind and heart to God." - Father Robert Barron

Excerpts from The Confession of St. Patrick: An Unlearned Man Turned Hero-Saint

Excerpts from The Confession of St. Patrick: An Unlearned Man Turned Hero-Saint

Lent Day -12 - A New Pitch of Existence

In his letter to the Philippians, St. Paul writes, after meeting the Risen Lord in a vision, "I consider everything as a loss because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord" (Phil. 3:8). Paul encountered the risen Jesus Christ, and in light of that knowledge, everything else in his life seemed like rubbish, like a total loss. Paul became elevated to a new life, a new vision, a new pitch of existence. All his accomplishments and the great things he inherited seemed like nothing compared to this life that was opened to him in the resurrection from the dead. What does the Resurrection mean? It means the elevation of this life to a new pitch, a new perfection, a new beauty that we can't even imagine. Imagine a fish who spent his entire life under the sea, and then is hooked by a fisherman. He's pulled up out of the water and for one moment he glimpses this world of light and color that he had never imagined possible. Then he wriggles off the hook and falls back into the water. "I saw that world up there," he would tell his fish friends, "which I never knew existed! Yet now, compared to that, this ordinary world seems like nothing to me." That's what Paul is communicating to the Philippians in his letter. And that's the new vision, the new pitch of existence, we're moving toward this season of Lent.

"What does the Resurrection mean? It means the elevation of this life to a new pitch, a new perfection, a new beauty that we can't even imagine." - Father Robert Barron

Lent Day 10 - Why was the Cross Necessary?

In the wake of Mel Gibson's movie, "The Passion of the Christ", and now more recently Mark Burnett's film, "Son of God", a lot of people have wondered, why was it necessary for Jesus to die on a cross? Although viewers of both films admired Jesus' courage in suffering through his brutal execution, they still wondered, did God want that? Did God demand that awful, bloody sacrifice? Han Urs von Balthasar said that what you see on the Cross is the greatest act of love, because the Father, out of love, sent the Son all the way into our human condition-but then, even more, he sent him into God-forsakenness. Jesus went to sinners, the sick, the marginalized, but then even further than that. In the most dramatic way possible, Jesus ventured into what frightens us the most: death. As St. Paul says, "He accepted death, even death on a cross," which for someone of that time, and maybe of any time, was the most brutal way to be killed. So the Father sent the Son all the way out into the furthest limits of God-forsakenness, but why? To usher into those places the divine light. Is death a place that God is not? No, because God is present there in Jesus. Is suffering a place that God is not? No, because the Son entered into suffering. Is sin a place where God is not? No, because God became sin on the Cross, says Paul. Through Jesus, the divine light journeys into our worst darkness. His aim is to divinize us, to allow us to "share his divine nature" in St. Peter's words, even in those dark places and conditions. Sin is a turning away from the divine life, and death is a fearful place that seems alien to God. But Jesus invades all those places, and thereby illumines them. He offers us new life even when we've wandered as far as we possibly can from God. In that sense, the Cross was necessary for our salvation since it allowed the Hound of Heaven to hunt us down, even in the darkest places.

"Through Jesus, the divine light journeys into our worst darkness." - Father Robert Barron

Lent Day 11 - St. Thomas More and the Theo-drama

The late Swiss theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar, whom I mentioned yesterday, often spoke of the "theo-drama." This is the drama written and directed by God and involving every creature in the cosmos. On the grand stage that is the created universe, we are invited to "act," to find and play our role in God's theater. The problem is that the vast majority of us live in the "ego-drama." We think we are the directors, writers, and above all, stars of our own dramas. We're convinced the cosmos provides a pleasing backdrop to our own performance. Other people function as either our supporting players or our villains, against whom we shine all the brighter. The ego-drama is on display in a wonderful scene in Robert Bolt's A Man For All Seasons. Richard Rich, a promising and ambitious young man, petitions the saintly Thomas More for a position among the glitterati at the court of Henry VIII. But disappointingly for Rich, More offers him a position, not as a courtier, but as a simple teacher. The young man is crestfallen, and More tries to cheer him up: "You'd be a good teacher." But Rich fires back: "And if I were, who would know it?" The patient More explains: "Yourself, your friends, your pupils, God--pretty good public, that!" What More assumes is the profoundly spiritual truth that the only audience worth playing for is the divine audience, and the only drama worth acting in--even in the smallest role--is God's. Rich wants a starring role, but More reminds him that it profits him nothing to play even the biggest part in the ego-drama if he misses his role in the theo-drama. The key is finding the role that God has designed for you, even if it looks like a bit part. And when you find that pearl of great price, you must sell everything else and buy it.

"The only audience worth playing for is the divine audience, and the only drama worth acting in--even in the smallest role--is God's." - Father Robert Barron

Holy Ambition

Holy ambition can lead a person to take leadership in projects to promote peace, ensure justice, clothe the naked, and welcome the stranger. It calls us to get involved in the deeds of love, service and justice that are needed in the day-to-day world in which we live.

— from Startled By God

Love this! It's Holy Ambition that started IHS and prays for it's success. It's Holy Ambition that will change lives, change our cities, our country, and our World! Join with me in prayers for those who have this Holy Ambition, and pray that we all may receive it's inspirational power in our lives.