Gospel Commentary in Catechist Magazine...and other stuff you might like

If you are looking for brief, informative commentary on the Sunday Gospels, you might consider subscribing to Catechist magazine! My role at Catechist is to write commentary and reflection for every Sunday Gospel (September through May). The commentary helps catechists better understand and share the weekly Gospel with their students, but it can also be used by individuals or faith-sharing groups as a resource for reflecting on the Sunday Gospels together. If you would like to see an example, you can view September’s “The Sunday Gospel” feature from Catechist magazine by clicking here. It's a great time to become a new subscriber -- this year Catechist is celebrating 50 years of helping catechists and catechetical leaders in their ministry, and they've made some exciting changes to their magazine and website. Click here to visit Catechist magazine's new website!

And since I don’t “advertise” too often...

...just a reminder that my books That Mighty Heart and In Every Life are available on amazon.com, and my new book Lent: Season of Transformation, part of a new series by Little Rock Scripture Study, is available for pre-order on amazon.com (release date is October 15, 2017).

And while I’m at it, here are a few recently published books that I highly recommend...

The Spirituality of Saint Paul: A Call to Imitation by Frank Matera, Paulist Press. Fr. Matera’s latest book is a readable and very helpful book on St. Paul's spirituality. It will help you wrap your mind around some major themes in Paul's letters and then reflect on how they apply to your life. Fr. Matera writes of seeking a Pauline spirituality in his own life. This book is no doubt the fruit of both his outstanding scholarship and his lived experience.

At Play in the Lion’s Den: A Biography and Memoir of Daniel Berrigan by Jim Forest, Orbis Books. Jim Forest, biographer extraordinaire, has given us the story of the inimitable Fr. Dan Berrigan, a Jesuit priest and activist of the 20th century. Jim has done his research but also has the priceless advantage of having been a friend of Dan’s and a fellow peacemaker through the years. The cover of this book alone tells a story, along with quotes such as this one from Dan Berrigan: “If you want to follow Jesus, you had better look good on wood.”

Written for Our Instruction: Theological and Spiritual Riches in Romans by Thomas Stegman, S.J., Paulist Press. Fr. Tom Stegman, Dean of the Boston College School of Theology and Ministry, is a proven scholar whose head is not "in the clouds." That’s why I like him and his work. I look forward to reading this book about St. Paul’s monumental letter to the Romans. It’s guaranteed to be 128 pages of solid commentary and insight.

Click on the titles below for more information!

"Why do clothes have to match?"

You all may recall my daughter Siobhan's Stations of the Cross, written when she was twelve. I hope you will enjoy this story about a much younger Siobhan, originally published in Liguorian Magazine. As you will see, she's been inspiring me to "dig deep" from a young age! 

* * * * *

There are moments in every parent’s life when the balance of power is suddenly upended and the child deftly gains the upper hand. These moments are disorienting, unnerving and inevitable.

I experienced such a moment when, as a young mother, my daughter asked me a simple question, then calmly watched me fumble around for an answer. 

I remember where we were. I was standing in front of the closet of my daughter, Siobhan, in our old house on Stable Court. Siobhan was probably around six years old at the time, and I was trying to help her choose an outfit for the day. The process was not going smoothly. She rejected my adorable choices, and I vetoed her strange ones. We could agree on tops but not bottoms. Bottoms but not tops. Arms were crossed. Teeth were clenched. Lines were drawn.

And that’s when she asked me: “Mommy, why do clothes have to match?” 

It still makes me feel weak, just thinking about it. The question has no answer.

But I desperately wanted to find one. I looked at Siobhan in that moment, and I saw stretching out before me years of unmatched clothes, rebellious outfits, strange fashion, and plaids with polka-dots. Instead I wanted her to look like a walking Gap ad. 

Siobhan waited patiently as the seconds ticked by with me saying feeble things like “um” and “well.” She knew exactly what was happening. I was realizing that all the answers I could think of were worse than any mismatched outfit: 

“So you will look like everyone else.” 

“Because that’s how other people expect you to look.” 

“Because that’s what I like.” 

My answers were weak and lame, so lame I couldn’t speak them. I sighed in defeat. “I don’t know, Siobhan. There isn’t a good reason.” My head rested momentarily in my hands as the weight of this reality sunk in. Siobhan was gracious in victory, and a new era of creative fashion began. 

Letting go of my young daughter’s wardrobe choices was a simple but far-reaching parental lesson. We have no real control over our children. Control is an unfulfilling and ultimately frustrating mirage that we create. After all, our children are human. They are free.

This is how God made us, and he certainly does not try to control us. There is both beauty and danger in our freedom. We can wear polka dots with plaids or try other wild things. God does not create a mirage of control for himself. He has always wanted us to be fully human and totally free. Every morning we stand in a wardrobe full of choices. What we choose – kindness, forgiveness, humility, love, anger, unkindness, self-righteousness, hate – is completely up to us. 

God wants us to choose for ourselves, and in doing so, to find and put on the most beautiful things.

* * * * *

Republished with permission from Liguorian Magazine, where this piece originally ran under the title “Plaids with Polka-Dots,” July-August 2017.

Siobhan: Imaginative, independent, adorable and free. March 2010.

The Antidote to Fear

Dear Friends,

The link below is an invitation to something short and simple. It is 10 minutes of the NPR radio show This American Life. During these 10 minutes, actor Tom Wright reads a list of fears written by a developmentally disabled man named Michael Bernard Loggins.

When you listen to this list of fears, even though Michael Bernard Loggins' fears might be completely different than your own, a commonality will form between you and Michael. There will be a bond between you and this person whom you’ve never met. The bond is a common humanity in which we all have fears. Some of his fears will make you smile. Some will make you fearful too. You might even feel like you want to take some of his fears away.

After posting my last blog, I realized that in writing about fear, I never once mentioned love. There is really only one antidote to fear – the deepest kind of human fear about ourselves and others – and it is love. St. Maximilian Kolbe said, “Love alone creates.” Love alone creates peace. Love alone rebuilds and heals. Love alone restores life.

Love is the balm of Gilead, the balm to soothe every fear, spoken or unspoken, listed or unlisted. May love be the balm of this nation as we take a long hard look at fear that has devolved into hate.

I hope you will take 10 minutes to listen to the piece linked below. Fear will not have the last word, as long as we have each other.

Amy

Click here to listen to the excerpt of This American Life.

Note: This American Life typically runs several stories (or "acts") on the same theme in each show. This Michael Bernard Loggins piece is sandwiched in the middle of Show 234 entitled “Say Anything,” so you will listen to the "second act" (from about 33:00 to 44:00). Just click the play arrow under the picture of people talking, and the show will automatically start in the right spot.

My husband and my daughter, 2011.

I Cannot Be Destroyed

“Daddy, what is your worst-est fear?”

Just a bit of background: both of my sons are very interested in ninjas, and ninjas ask these kinds of things. And because ninjas never give up, Eli waited patiently as my husband considered whether or not to reveal his deepest fear to a five-year-old. The young ninja finally offered a helpful suggestion:

“Is it being destroyed?”

I heard about this completely one-sided conversation when I arrived home. My husband never answered Eli’s question – but I suppose there’s no reason to when your five-year-old has already successfully identified every human being’s greatest fear.

Fear of being destroyed.

I’ve been told that when you’re dying, you don’t want things sugar-coated. You don’t want surface-level nonsense that sounds good but gets you nowhere. You want to talk about death. You want to talk about being destroyed. You want to know what it’s really about – what’s going to happen, how it’s going to be, how you’ll accept it. In the Church we talk about the “last things” – death, judgment, heaven, hell. You want to know what those things mean.

One of the great personal creeds of Scripture is that stubborn declaration of Job: “I know that my Redeemer lives.” It’s worth noting that Job says this almost immediately after declaring that God “breaks me down on every side, and I am gone, he has uprooted my hope like a tree” (Job 19:10, 25).

People of faith – we believe that we cannot be destroyed. To destroy is to cause something to come to an end, to cease to exist. God may break us down. We may feel lost or gone. Our hope will come and go. But we cannot be destroyed (cf. 2 Cor. 4:9; 5:1). As Job declares, I will see God: I will see for myself, my own eyes, not another’s, will see him (Job 19:26-27).

 I can’t think of anything harder than being a human being. Destruction hangs around us in so many ways, so many areas of our lives. We are strong, but we are so fragile. It isn’t just physical destruction we fear but mental, emotional, spiritual, financial, relational, national, natural and even ecclesial. We won’t escape destructive experiences. We know that, we who know nothing but Jesus Christ and him crucified (1 Cor. 2:2).

But I hope you will say it with me, Job’s creed: I cannot be destroyed. Because my redeemer lives. I will see for myself, my own eyes will see him. My inmost being is consumed with longing (Job 19:25-27).

The little ninja.

When I Seem to Be Talking about Lakes

“It says something deep and real about us, and our capacity to understand each other so deeply, that words can only hint at what I mean.”

— Brian Doyle (1956-2017), "The Lakes"

I was surprised and sad to read in the July 10 issue of America that Brian Doyle died of brain cancer at the young age of 60. Doyle was an essayist and author who has been described as “unabashedly Catholic.” Not a bad way to be remembered, friends.

Every time I read something Brian wrote, I remembered it. One short piece in particular has stayed with me. I’d like to share it with you here in memory of his good work and unabashed Catholicism. It wasn’t in-your-face. It just got into your mind.

Please click here to read Brian Doyle’s essay “The Lakes” at commonwealmagazine.org.