See Jesus through Forgiveness

Our story continues with Frank telling us about his young wife leaving, soon after her baby was born.

Long before I became a priest, I was a husband and a father. I remember the rush of emotions the first time I took my son into my arms. He was so tiny, so perfect. I wanted to protect him from all harm and difficulty. I wanted to always be able to surround him in an embrace and hold him close. What a miracle a child is!

Of course, parenting isn’t easy in the best of circumstances, but within a couple months of his birth, his mother Marcie had left us, called away to save the world, she thought.

I was angry—really, really angry. I couldn’t believe it. I felt like she had used me. I was just someone to leave Baby Daniel with, so she could be free of responsibility. I have to admit I was furious with God, too. Why did He let this happen? Why did He let me love her so deeply and then lose her? I had been torn between being a family man and being a priest, and it seemed Marcie had made the decision for me. Plus, I was exhausted. I tried to do all that our son needed, but with my sleep interrupted for feedings, my worry about finances, and sheer emotional devastation, I was a mess. Looking back now, I thank God that my parents were there to help me those first few months.

I never resented Daniel. That sweet little boy was the bright spot in a dark time. However, each time he cried, I thought of Marcie and grew angrier that she wasn’t here to help us. Eventually, I realized I couldn’t hold on to my anger and be a good father. Daniel would feel the tension in my arms and cry harder or see my scowl and frown in response. When I realized my hurt ran too deep to easily forgive Marcie, I began to pray, both for assistance to forgive, and for her wellbeing. Also, holding him, watching him stare at me as he drank a bottle, and eventually seeing him smile at me helped to heal the wound in my soul. Around nine months after she left, I could think about her without seething. As I watched Daniel try to toddle on his own, I imagined my “forgiveness muscles” also toddling and growing stronger.

Just when I thought I was gaining my equilibrium, my mom and dad were killed in a car accident. I could have slipped back into despair and anger with God, but He gave me the grace I needed. I know if I hadn’t done the work to forgive Marcie, my heart would have been hardened, and this next loss would have turned it into stone. With God’s help, I managed to keep going.

Betty here again.

Our faith instructs us to forgive others. We may tell ourselves we don’t need to because they aren’t sorry, they intended to hurt us, and they don’t deserve to be forgiven. But if we don’t forgive, our hearts harden. We are less able to forgive the next time we are hurt, and the next. If things don’t change, we become angry and bitter. Before long we start feeling the world is out to get us, and we see ourselves as victims. Our anger will likely cause people to avoid us, making loneliness reinforce our bitterness. We may think that THEY don’t deserve to be forgiven, but WE deserve the JOY that comes from being FORGIVERS. We deserve to have soft, merciful hearts that are slow to anger, and open to love.

The Lord’s Prayer says, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” (Matthew 6:12)

The New Testament reiterates:

• For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins. (Matthew 6:14-15)
• And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive them, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.” (Mark 11:25)
• “Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. (Luke 6:37)
• Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. (Colossians 3:13)

Let it go. Soften your heart to accept grace. Pray for the ones who hurt you. Don’t allow yourself to dwell on the pain. You will see Jesus as He helps you forgive.

See Jesus in Service

3 See Jesus – in Service

In our story about Frank, he begins to meet Jesus in others as he serves them. He tells Pedra, who is taking his story down in shorthand:

As I grew to be a teen, I followed the precepts of the Church, obeyed the commandments, even Jesus’ command to “love others as I have loved you.” I knew that could mean dying for others. I prayed I could have that kind of courage. But it also meant living for others, which required its own kind of bravery.

Our Youth Group focused on service to others. At first it felt awkward, going to help people. I thought they might be embarrassed by the contrast between their need and our privileged lives, but most of them were truly grateful. We sorted clothes at a local St. Vincent de Paul and were encouraged to converse with those who shopped there. We ran food drives in our neighborhoods. Later we distributed groceries to shelves at the local food bank or boxed up supplies to be delivered to families. We helped manage the lines of people indoors, or the cars outdoors, as people drove up trying to help their food budget reach the end of the month.

Other times we visited nursing homes for the elderly, and we’d sing some old-time songs or simply spread out and visit with the residents. I learned to admire the kind people who worked in the homes every day, whether cleaning up after accidents, helping with showers, or being cheerful and patient when the residents weren’t. Some folks there felt forgotten and abandoned and their hurt could turn to anger. Once, though, I saw one of the crankiest old men turn into a baby-talking cuddler when a therapy dog nudged his hand for a pet. I think we all need a little nudge out of our self-pity occasionally.

In December we would arrange and throw a Christmas party for foster kids. We’d each pick a toy for someone whose name we’d drawn, but we’d also raised money so each child could take home a suitcase or duffle bag for the meager possessions that travelled with them from home to home. Seeing those kids and hearing some of their stories sure made me grateful for my parents. We didn’t have a lot of money, but we did have lots of love. I grew up with a sense of security that those kids might not ever have known. I still pray for foster kids and that truly good people will be inspired to become foster parents.

Later, after my first year of college, one of my professors found me a part-time job at a homeless shelter. I did some cleaning and cooking, but mostly I listened to stories and offered friendship to the friendless. Like Mary and Joseph who fled to Egypt with their newborn Son, some of the guests were immigrants. Some were down on their luck and had lost their homes. Some were addicted to drugs or alcohol or both. But they all needed to be listened to, to be treated with dignity, to be fed and clothed and sheltered. Those people taught me so much. I learned how little in life is really necessary; how relationship is everything. I learned how Jesus was able to hug the lepers. These folks were just as outcast as lepers, so I figured they were His people. It wasn’t always easy, but I occasionally succeeded at seeing Jesus in them.

One man came in every day for the noon meal. He always wore a tee shirt and jeans, much like most of the men there, but he looked more clean-cut than others. It took me a couple of weeks working there to notice that he moved around the diners chatting here and there, and occasionally took one or another of them into a separate room. I asked my supervisor about it, and he said, “Oh, you must mean Doc. He comes to bandage a blister, offer an antibiotic when something is infected, or encourage a person to go to the free health clinic for more care. I even saw him stitch up a knife wound once.”

I asked if he really was a doctor. My boss shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows,” he said. “But he knows his stuff. He never asks for anything more than his lunch, and the people trust him. He’s one of the good guys.”

Those words made me want someone to say that about me someday. “He’s one of the good guys.” Or even more to the point, I wanted to hear God say, on my judgment day, “Well done, you good and faithful servant. What you did for the least of these, you did for Me.”

Betty here: We all want to hear those words on our own judgment day, when we will see God face to face. Whether through service to the poorest of the poor, to our family and friends, or to the people God places in our lives, whatever we do for the least of these, we do for Him.

See Jesus – In Church

Seeing Jesus can result from observing Him in others like we considered last week. However, He draws us to Himself through many different means. Moving closer to Him is a matter of deepening relationships as we love people more, but also as we get to know Jesus better in His Church, through His Word, through Prayer, and through Community. Our protagonist, Frank, tells us more:

As a kid, I enjoyed reading the New Testament. Our Lady had told me I’d meet her Son, and I wanted to be ready. At first, I used a child’s book of stories about Jesus, but eventually a simplified Bible, and before long, a regular Bible. I liked the Jesus I met there. As a child, He must have been a deep thinker, and I could relate to that. I loved how He sat and listened to the elders at the temple and asked questions with understanding, even at twelve. He was kind and gentle with people, but could be passionate, like when money lenders misused His Father’s temple. I was especially intrigued by His healing miracles. I thought that healing might be just about the best of gifts to be given, to be able to cure people of their brokenness and pain. As I learned about Him from reading, I was drawn to Him, and began talking to Him as a friend.

I still do. I highly recommend it!

Above all, I strove to build a real relationship with Jesus by spending time with Him, whether in front of the Blessed Sacrament in adoration, in conversation with Him in prayer, or through little love offerings by way of sacrifices. A favorite author of mine, Matthew Kelly, once wrote that relationships deepen when we spend carefree timelessness with each other. The same is true spiritually. We grow closer to Jesus by spending time with Him.

But He doesn’t always call us to solitude. He can also meet us in Community. On my first night in Youth Group as a high school freshman, one of the seniors called for our attention. He invited us to take our seats and introduced us to the teen leaders who were other seniors like himself. A handful of adults supervised but allowed the teens to do most of the interacting. A young man and a young woman each gave a short talk about how the group had helped them deepen their faith or feel supported through hard times.

Excitement made me grin. I’d been hoping for a place where I could talk among friends about our faith. I wanted to grow closer to Jesus, but not feel like I was weird for that desire. Our Youth Group didn’t only talk. Much of our time was spent in service, putting our faith into practice.

That was when I first learned about the value of belonging to a community with shared beliefs.

Many years later, I was made pastor of my own parish, and I loved my flock dearly. I saw Jesus within them and through our shared worshipping. I felt Him reaching out to them. I felt tenderly toward the man who struck his chest gently each time Jesus’ name was read. Or the woman who sat in the front pew so that her four young children could see well, though tending to them probably meant she didn’t get to pray much herself. Of course, some folks were harder to see Jesus in. I listened to complaints about Mass times, or the music, or what the lectors wore. Some folks disagreed passionately about every topic brought up at the Parish Council meetings. The Church isn’t a collection of perfect people. It’s a community of imperfect folks who struggle together to grow closer to each other and to God.

I loved officiating at weddings, watching the bride and groom gaze into each other’s eyes, though their happiness in being joined as one emphasized how very alone a priest can be. Just when I was feeling especially sorry for myself, some sweet family would invite me to dinner. The children would play their newest pieces on the piano, or sing for me, or ask me to join them in a board game, and I’d drive home that night feeling so thankful. God had reminded me that I wasn’t alone, and that He had me, and all His children, under His wing.

Betty here again.

The early Covid precautions kept us from worshipping with our communities in our churches. It was certainly easier to attend Mass in our living rooms, but something was missing. Don’t you agree? In those first early months, we couldn’t receive Communion, and we couldn’t share community.

Some people say they can stay close to God without community, but Jesus must have thought worshipping together was important, since He instituted the Church. I think He knew we would need each other’s support through the hard times. We need the help of others as we try to raise our children to know Him. We need the witness of others when we profess our vows as a couple, baptize our children, or introduce them to the sacraments. And we certainly need the support of friends when we experience grief from the loss of a loved one. Clergy and lay ministers give us examples of how to lead our lives when they’ve gone through the challenges we face, or when they share a homily that makes us consider new directions. Those same leaders need our participation to perform works of mercy through food drives, soup kitchens, charity collections, outreach to the homeless, or support for our seniors.

We see Jesus in our churches when we study His Word, join in prayer, and reach out to help others.