Category: Catholicism

Advent, Catholicism, Christmas, Jesus, Prayer, Saints, Scripture

The Pieces He Put Together – Advent Reflection, December 20th

Carrie Sue Barnes

Week 3, Wednesday – December 20th

In the sixth month, the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary.

Luke 1:26-27

The Old Testament has more than twice the number of pages than the New Testament. The arrival of the savior through Mary of Nazareth was not a sudden, unexpected development in God’s almighty plans. It was the culmination of centuries of Him carrying out those plans.

All the details the gospel writers included are like pieces sliding into place in the puzzle of salvation. Anyone listening to these details in the earliest days of Christianity heard the clicks of piece after piece joining together, each one offering more certainty of what God was doing.

This is it! This what we’ve been waiting for!

Luke’s gospel sets the scene in “the 6th month” of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, and identifies Gabriel as the visiting angel – the same angel that visited Zechariah to promise the coming of John the Baptist, who would be the forerunner to the savior’s arrival.

Click.

Who does Gabriel visit? A virgin, betrothed to Joseph of the house of David. She is a person spoken of hundreds of years prior by the prophet Isaiah, when the Lord declared He would send the sign His people needed in the form of a son, born of a virgin and called Emmanuel, God With Us.

Click.

This is it. This is God carrying out His plans. With great intention, He acts to save us, to make Himself known to us, and to be with us. He put it all together in perfect wisdom and perfect timing, as only He could do.

Now, here – where I am and where you are – He continues to do the same. My life is not born of happenstance. My life is chosen intentionally by my creator. As He did for Mary, for Joseph, for Elizabeth, Zechariah, and John, He loved me before I existed and carved out a spot for me in His glorious kingdom. My heart thanks Him and eagerly asks that He show me how to fill that place I am meant to have in His plans.

Advent, Catholicism, Christmas, Faith, Holiness, Jesus, Prayer, Saints, Scripture

Like Joseph Did – Advent Reflection, December 18th

Carrie Sue Barnes

Week 3, Monday – December 18th

When Joseph awoke, he did as the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took his wife into his home.

Matthew 1:24

Each time I read a gospel passage involving Joseph, I wish he’d speak up. This man lived with Jesus and Mary! He was the human father figure for the Son of God! Imagining his experiences fascinates me. For goodness’ sake, I want to hear from him!

Sorry, didn’t mean to get so worked up there.

Having no record of Joseph’s words does not mean he didn’t say anything. That’s a silly notion. So, why are there no statements or dialogue from him? Believing in the divine inspiration of sacred scripture, I come to one conclusion: what I read of Joseph is what God wanted me to get from Joseph.

Matthew writes that Joseph is a righteous man, and from this righteousness comes his planned course of action: to divorce Mary quietly after he found out about her pregnancy. For though they had already entered a marriage bond by Jewish betrothal, they did not yet live together or have relations as husband and wife. A righteous man among the Jewish people was one who followed God’s laws and commandments. Joseph would have been lawful to not only divorce Mary for her assumed infidelity but also to publicly shame her and even call for her to be stoned to death.

Joseph’s righteousness, however, is clearly coupled with compassion. He does not wish to associate himself with apparent sin and scandal but he also does not desire to publicly punish Mary. A quiet divorce was an act of mercy when Joseph’s possible choices are considered.

I am certain Joseph, being prone to righteousness and mercy, took such serious matters to prayer. I expect he sought out God for guidance. No record of his prayers are in the pages of scripture. What is recorded is God’s answer, and Joseph’s response to it.

God sent an angel while Joseph was asleep. Joseph went to bed that night with a decision made, then awoke with that decision trumped by God’s explanations and instructions. There, at that awakening, is where I am most eager to emulate Joseph.

He did not wake up and write off God’s message as irrational to follow. He didn’t hem and haw, mulling over doubts about what would happen if he did as God said to do.

Joseph awoke and did as God commanded. Once God made the way clear, Joseph stepped into it and no longer considered the other ways he could go, even though they likely felt safer and more reasonable.

From Joseph, I learn of faith producing the necessary fortitude to be who God calls me to be in the grand story of salvation. Joseph’s faith told him to listen to God and to trust in what he heard. It does not take a single word from Joseph for him to tell me likewise. That’s the might of authentic faith. That’s the fruit such faith bears.

Joseph’s piece in the story demonstrates that complex situations reach their best outcomes when submitted to God’s will. Like Joseph, I am not necessarily called to figure it all out and determine the best course of action by my reasoning alone. I am called to seek the guidance of God, and respond with trusting obedience to Him. It is encouraging that, in practicing this, that reasoning of mine can grow little by little to resemble the wisdom of God.

No matter the gap between my answers and the Lord’s, I pray that any time I am awakened to the instructions of God, I will rise and obey with a heart full of faith. Like Joseph did.

Advent, Catholicism, Christmas, Faith, Jesus, Prayer, Scripture

When I See His Face – Advent Reflection, December 16th

Carrie Sue Barnes

Week 3, Saturday – December 16th

O God, restore us; light up your face and we shall be saved.

Psalm 80:4, NAB

In younger years, I had a lot of fun playing hide and seek, the age old childhood game that had us all crouching in dark spaces and wedging ourselves into cupboards and closets. What a victory it was to hear a sibling or friend shout when they’d given up. “Olly, olly, oxen free! You can come out now!” Then came the brief praise for your clever hiding spot and disbelief that they hadn’t thought to check there. This was quickly followed by a shout of whose turn it was to hide and whose to seek as the next round began.

It can feel sometimes like God likes a good game of hide and seek. I’d run out of fingers and toes before I finish counting how many times I’ve begged God to show Himself to me. When I give it any extra thought though, I know God never takes a turn at being the one to hide.

God is perpetually seeking me. He is always showing Himself to me. In the occasions when I cannot detect the light of His face, eventually I discover it was because of an obstacle between me and Him. Whether I or circumstances outside of my control created it, God consistently provides a means to remove any obstacle once I recognize that it’s in the way.

Unlike the fair turns that must be taken in a kids’ game, God never tires of being the seeker of our souls. He does not run out of patience with me. I beg to see Him as if He hasn’t shown Himself to me already, and still He shows up. God does not keep count of all the obstacles I throw in between us, or all the times I walk right past without recognizing His presence on the spot. He will turn the light of his face upon me as many times as it takes, until we are not only face to face but I am held by Him too, never to leave His light again.

On the first Christmas night, God shone His saving light through the face of Jesus Christ. He came, knowing He would be unrecognized by most, rejected by many, and would suffer for all.

Here in the middle of Advent, I ask the Holy Spirit to prompt me to look harder. May I see Him waiting for me in the Eucharist and hear Him calling to me from every page of the scriptures. I pray I will turn to God more often and with eyes open to what stands between us. And I ask that when I see His face, I will recognize the love that leads Him to seek me without fail.

Advent, Catholicism, Christmas, Faith, Gratitude, Prayer, Scripture

All That He Is – Advent Reflection, December 13th

Carrie Sue Barnes

Week 2, Wednesday – December 13th

Do you not know or have you not heard? The Lord is the eternal God, creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary, and his knowledge is beyond scrutiny.

Isaiah 40:28

This passage is as familiar as my favorite sweater. I, like many others, find reassurance in it; a reassurance that has carried me through moments made for weariness. It dawned on me today how much of my fondness for the passage comes from the verses that follow, rather than from the one I quoted here. Those verses speak of soaring and running with renewed strength. They speak of what God does for me.

How can there be so much reassurance in what the scriptures say God can and will do for me? Why am I bolstered by every reminder that the Lord is my strength, or that in Him I can be courageous? The answer, simple and true, is because of who God is. Every facet of His nature builds the most reliable of fortresses.

God’s promises are worth my attention. There is no fault in standing on the grounds of what He has done for me, what He is doing for me, and what He will do for me. In fact, it is what should occur if I am the woman of faith I aim to be.

However, for those grounds to remain standing through the most trying lows, they need to be laid upon the bedrock of God’s nature. In all that He is, I can see both how and why He does what He does. Knowledge of Him leads to glorifying Him, and both lead to a sustained faith across every hill and valley.

Lord, with every praise I might offer, may I love you more for who You are than for what You may accomplish for my sake. In this way, You will render me able to love as You love me.

You are all good. I praise You, Lord.

You are perfect love. I submit to You, Lord.

You are all knowing. I trust You, Lord.

You are eternal. I worship You, Lord.

You are present through the heavens and the earth, without exception. I bow before you, Lord.

You are the creator and sustainer of all life. I owe everything to You, Lord.

You are God, in whose image I am made. I glorify You, Lord.

Advent, Catholicism, Christmas, Faith, Hope, Jesus, Love, Prayer, Scripture

Like Sheep, or Cows, or Humans – Advent Reflection, December 9th

Carrie Sue Barnes

Week One, Saturday – December 9th

At the sight of the crowds, his heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.

Matthew 9:36, NAB

Cows used to wander into our yard from the neighboring farm when I was growing up in Michigan. The cows escaped the grazing field’s fences a few times a year and clomped up the road to my parents’ property. Vehicles needed to avoid them, their hooves tore up our grass, and one even kicked a large, lovely dent in our car door. Oh, and they pooped. A lot.

It was messy and aggravating. Yet, I always felt a little sorry for those wandering cows. When the farmer showed up to herd them back home, usually with my dad’s assistance, I imagined the cows felt the cow version of relief, and that the familiar ground and boundaries of the farm brought a sense of safety. “This is where I belong. It is good to be here with you,” they’d say in the language of Moos as they gazed at the farmer with their big, dark eyes.

Maybe if Jesus hailed from the Midwest, the crowds of people would have reminded Him of cows without a farmer. No matter the livestock comparison though, Jesus looks on us the same way. He sees us break through boundaries that only exist for our wellbeing. He understands our curiosity and tendency to wander, and He is aware of the resulting wounds. Like a caring shepherd or farmer, He goes out to find us. He meets us not with anger and condemnation, but with compassion and wisdom.

I have a picture on my wall that says, “Dear one, you are not being condemned. You are being rescued.” I put it up while I was deep in the turmoil of changing my life. The changes couldn’t come without acknowledgement of the ways I’d chosen to walk away from God and the life I was meant to lead. With that acknowledgement came the great gift of forgiveness, yet I struggled every day with harsh judgment of myself. God had cast aside my sin as soon as I asked, but I still clung to it and let it slow down every step I was making toward Him.

Like Jesus looking at the crowd in the Gospel story, He looked on me with pity. Through times in prayer and reading God’s word, and through voices sent into my life to speak truth and share love, Jesus met me where I stood in the crowd. He and the ones He sent reached out to untangle my feet from the briars of sin and its aftermath. He saw me as worthy of rescuing, and for that I thank Him daily.

We’re all in the crowd. We’re all in need of our divine shepherd. In preparing for Christmas, let us prepare for the great celebration of our shepherd’s arrival. He comes to rescue. He comes to heal. He comes to love.

Advent, Catholicism, Christmas, Faith, Jesus, Love, Saints, Scripture

The Wonder of God’s Choice – Advent Reflection, December 8th

Carrie Sue Barnes

Week One, Friday – December 8th

Brothers and sisters: Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavens, as he chose us in him, before the foundation of the world, to be holy and without blemish before him.

Ephesians 1:3-4, NAB

Say it about yourself.

This was advice I received once when I was struggling to see the promises of God as applicable to me. I felt like I was watching the goodness from a distance. I’m susceptible to reading and speaking of the marvelous love and works of God only in large scale, all-humanity terms. Doing so protects me from the vulnerability of the personal nature of divine love. In a contemplative vision of Jesus, St. Teresa of Avila once heard Him say that He would create the universe again just to hear her say that she loves Him. A love that deep is entirely personal and invites the vulnerable surrender of my heart to His. Since vulnerability scares the daylights out of me, I’m learning to look that fear in the face and say the truth about myself.

Blessed be the God and Father of my Lord Jesus Christ.

He has blessed me in Christ with every spiritual blessing.

He chose me in Him, before the foundation of the world.

He chose me. He chose me. I get stuck on that one (in a good way) and find it only makes sense from God’s perspective, not mine.

I wonder if Mary got stuck on it too. It’s easy enough to imagine. After the angel Gabriel’s declaration that she had found favor with God, she may have marveled, “He chose me.” With her massive act of faith in saying yes to God’s plans , she perhaps let it sink in – the honor of it all – with the thought, “He chose me.” And “He chose me” might have been the reassurance she rested upon while facing the questions of how and why and what was to come.

God didn’t choose me to be the mother of my Lord, but He did choose me to be who I am. He prepared the avenue for my existence from farther back than centuries of generations. He ordained the ways my life could build the Kingdom of God, if I say yes to His plans. The people I have the opportunity to love, God saw fit to make me the one to give that love. He placed in me the voice I carry and its potential to deliver truth, beauty, and goodness. He designed by His hand the spiritual gifts I could possess.

He chose Mary.

He chose Joseph.

He chose Peter.

He chose John.

He chose Paul.

He chose me.

He chose you.

From before the foundation of the world.

Say it about yourself: He chose me. I choose Him.

Advent, Catholicism, Faith, Jesus, Love, Prayer, Scripture

Build It on the Rock – Advent Reflection, December 7th

Carrie Sue Barnes

Week One, Thursday – December 7th

Everyone who listens to these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock.”

Matthew 7:24, NAB

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I did tell you!”

If I had a nickel for every time I’ve been in that argument, I’d pay all my bills in nickels. Of course, I’ve occupied both sides of it, and since it only ever happens between me and another imperfect person, I’ve been both in the right and in the wrong.

There is only one person with whom I could never possibly win this argument. I can picture it now… me standing beside Jesus on the edge of heaven while He speaks of my life in full truthfulness. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I’d exclaim. Jesus would give me that look that says, “Really?” and I’d know better than to continue.

How awful it feels when I’m on the “why didn’t you?” side of the debate. There is a feeling of helplessness when I realize I didn’t know what I needed to know. It’s compounded by the aspect of betrayal when I also discover that someone did know and didn’t tell me. No matter how minor or major the missing information, it stings each time.

God loves us too much to not tell us. He loves us too perfectly to leave us vulnerable to that unsettling experience. He is never negligent. He is not forgetful or subject to error. He gives us the truth in love and will not let us be caught unaware.

In speaking of the one who “listens to these words and acts on them,” the Lord sets the expectation. I read that passage and hear Jesus whispering in my heart.

Yes, the truth of the gospel should change things. You aren’t imagining it. My love really is what makes all the difference. And if it doesn’t make a difference, your house is on the sand.

The truth should prompt action. I don’t get to hear of God’s saving love for me and remain unchanged. At least, not if I want to meet the open gaze of my savior and say to him, “Lord, Lord,” as He leads me into the splendor of heaven.

There will be storms, with buffeting winds and waves, on the way there. Yet faith tells me I do not need to be afraid of any change God may lead me into. In listening to Him, I am equipped to build a storm-surviving house on the rock. His words are meant for me. The arrival of Jesus is not only the turning point for the individuals who encounter Him on the gospel pages, it is my turning point. It must be.

Lord, be my turning point. Be the cause of every change You desire to effect in me. May I listen and act, and stand upon You, my rock and my salvation.