Fr. Frank Majka, SJ – The Bridge

Standing Firm

In chapter 9 of St. John’s gospel, Jesus and his disciples come upon a beggar who’d been blind from birth, an object of pity and perhaps scorn for his whole life. But by the end of the chapter, this man had found the courage to confront the religious leaders of his community and chastise them for their own blindness.

With his sight restored by Jesus, he had found faith — not a faith based on sophisticated reasoning or years of studying the scriptures but on knowing what he had been, what he was now, and who had made it all happen.

St. Ignatius Loyola wrote that it’s not as essential to know many things (though he himself had been educated at the best university of his day) as it is to have a deep and heartfelt understanding of the truth. That’s what this man had.

What things in our lives and faith do we know so deeply from our own experience that we can stand on them no matter what anyone else says?

On the Move

On Transfiguration Mountain

One day on the Mountain of the Transfiguration — so named because of the event that happened there as described in Matthew, ch 17 — Peter, James, and John saw something in Jesus that they’d never seen before.

They’d known him as an insightful, inspiring teacher. They’d known him as a miracle worker and as a formidable opponent of the formalistic piety that, in their day, had displaced real religion.

But when they saw Jesus’ being transfigured in their presence, they caught a glimpse of his divinity, and it literally knocked them off their feet.

As Lent goes forward, we might ask ourselves whether our belief in Jesus goes beyond seeing him as a wise teacher. Does it reach the point where we admire him not just for his words and miracles, but honor him for his divinity as well? And how do we demonstrate that?

The Peacock in Winter

Lent 2011

This year the coming of spring in the upper Midwest coincides with the start of Lent, and that has set me to thinking how I might slant my observance of Lent.

Maybe nature provides a clue, for in the last few days, sunshine and relatively warm temperatures have melted a lot of snow, thus laying bare what had lain invisible beneath the snow since mid-January. There are dead spots in the lawn, to be sure, but also green patches that hold promises of growth.

If I transpose this to the spiritual realm, maybe my Lenten practice this year should be to pray for God’s love to disclose whatever has been covered up in my life, whether good or bad. Then I can decide whether it calls for gratitude or repentance.