Peace Be With You

There is a certain kind of irony to life in that just as the Church is celebrating the fiftieth anniversary of the papal encyclical "Pacem in Terris", the world should be subjected to the saber-rattling of North Korea. Pope John XXIII shared a vision that "projected a world where peace would be achieved by governments dedicated to the fulfillment of human rights." Kim Jong Un is teaching lessons "about the value of having a nuclear weapon or two." So which of these two men is the crazy one?

I say we are the crazy ones. We chase a peace that will never come, while dismissing one easily within our grasp. Peace is not some utopian way of life that we can talk or kill our way into. It is a state of being that comes from placing absolute trust in Love, and that manifests itself most purely in the love of our enemies.

"Our brother calls us to love, love God, love your neighbor, love. How hard is that? What are you afraid of? If he was willing to die to love you, what’s your excuse for not loving those you fail to understand, those you despise, those you hate?"

Yes, we must fight injustice. Yes, we must reject violence. But simply because that is what love demands, not because doing so will bring about some magic land of peace and justice. Love calls us to tilt at windmills, and to do so joyfully.

"It is time for us to embrace our family, even though we will fail, and probably fail miserably. This is another paradox of our Creator. We can never truly be one family in this life and yet they compel us to try, they demand that we make the attempt."

And therein lies the key to peace: we are family. It is a truth more profound than any encyclical and more powerful than any atomic bomb. A truth we proclaim with a Kiss, and not a kiss that says, "I will tolerate you," but a kiss that says, "You are my brother, my sister, and I love you." A truth that reveals that the Kingdom we crave has been right in front of us all along, if only we would trust in it.

"So much of life is a paradox, but it is there that we find God the most. It is there, in the confusion and that mess that we must dwell. It is there that we experience true beauty, true joy. It is there that we can see something wonderful, something that sends a chill down our spine, and puts a smile on our face and a laugh in our heart, where we know with certainty who and what we are and why we are here in this time and place. It is in that moment that we are at peace."

Peace is not a grand dream, but a simple love. Peace be with you.

Birds & Wildflowers

I find myself at a loss for words today. I have plenty of topics and ideas to write about, but they all feel trivial right now. We scurry around day after day trying to build … what exactly? In my mind, I keep hearing Jesus speaking about how God takes care of the birds and the wildflowers, so we can trust God to take care of us as well. But we don't trust, so we scurry and build instead. And I am no better than the rest, babbling on and on when it's all so simple. What exactly am I trying to build?

"Why do you babble so much about me? So much time and energy, for what purpose? What more is there to understand about us than love? You think too much and feel too little. You talk too much and love too little. It is the curse of your consciousness. You can see enough to open the door, but not enough to find your way through it. Close your eyes and the path will be illuminated soon enough."

There is something breathtakingly wonderful surrounding us. If birds and wildflowers can trust in it, why can't we? Stop building, close your eyes, and see.

Monthly Reading Links

"Francis, Poverty, Aggiornamento, and the New Evangelization"
David Cloutier, Catholic Moral Theology

"A Place at the Table"
Brian Doyle, America

"Loving the Broken, or How the Church Becomes Real"
Ryan Duns, The Jesuit Post

"He was transformed by Mozart"
Randy Lewis, Los Angeles Times

"Habemus a View from Rome"
Eric Ramirez, The Jesuit Post

"In memory of Jack Beasley, a guy you may not have noticed, but should have"
T.J. Simers, Los Angeles Times

"A father-daughter dance — in jail"
Emily Wax, The Washington Post

Please follow me on Twitter (@jwbidwell) for additional reading recommendations.

He is Risen

Earlier this Lent, Terrance Klein wrote that in our search for meaning "the temptation is ever to settle for neat, pat, cheap endings." It is a temptation many of us will be feeling today as we struggle with the resurrection of Jesus. How we want to believe that this has simplified life. But if we search our hearts and souls, we know that everything has been wonderfully complicated instead. Love will do that.

"You rose, so we’re saved … right? But maybe you rose not to give us heaven, but to give us back our earth. Life is lived here and now, not in some cloud-world we go to after we die. Perhaps you rose to show us the primacy of love, that nothing, not even death itself, can stop it. And maybe you meant to show us the kingdom we long for is right in front of our faces. You rose … I will rise with you my brother."

So let us rise. Alleluia! Alleluia!

The Fig Tree

Once upon a time, a man was hungry. Spotting a fruit tree, he went over to it, but there was no fruit. So the man said to the tree: "May no one ever eat of your fruit again!"

Does this story sound familiar? How many electronic devices were told to "go to hell" today because of some sort of malfunction? Irrational anger is like a cherished human pastime. But what happens when "the man" becomes Jesus?

When he was going back to the city in the morning, he was hungry. Seeing a fig tree by the road, he went over to it, but found nothing on it except leaves. And he said to it, "May no fruit ever come from you again." And immediately the fig tree withered.

When the disciples saw this, they were amazed and said, "How was it that the fig tree withered immediately?" Jesus said to them in reply, "Amen, I say to you, if you have faith and do not waver, not only will you do what has been done to the fig tree, but even if you say to this mountain, 'Be lifted up and thrown into the sea,' it will be done. Whatever you ask for in prayer with faith, you will receive."

Matthew 21:18-22

"Jesus' act seems arbitrary and ill-tempered, but it is a prophetic action similar to those of Old Testament prophets that vividly symbolize some part of their preaching," or so says the note attached to the above gospel passage. Why are we unwilling to concede that Jesus' behavior was exactly what it appeared to be: irrational anger? Is Jesus' explanation for his behavior remarkably different than the rationalizations we come up with for hitting inanimate objects that have somehow annoyed us, especially when our behavior was observed by a friend or colleague?

We claim to believe in a fully human Jesus. So why are we uncomfortable with the idea that he was imperfect in some ways, just like the rest of us? The first reading for Holy Thursday's evening Mass is the story of Passover from Exodus. Our Jewish siblings began their annual celebration of this event Monday night. Why are so many of us willing to believe in a God who commits mass slaughter of innocent children on our behalf, but not in one who chooses to share in all of our idiotic humanity?

Perhaps the simple truth is that we do not want Jesus to be like us. That is a terrifying reality. He loves and forgives those we do not want to love and forgive. It is easier to put Jesus on a pedestal. His perfection is the perfect excuse for not even trying to be like him. But then who exactly are we worshipping during this Holy Week?

"Why is it that all we remember about you is death and resurrection, miracles and commands? Where is your laughter? Where is your anger? Where is the way your eyes sparkled when you talked? What about the times you were sick or drunk or silly or stupid or spectacular? What about when you were alive? You weren’t just some sacrificial lamb. You were one of us … You are one of us."

There is so much beauty in that one little cursed fig tree. So why do we try to explain it away? Are we afraid of looking in the mirror and seeing Jesus staring back at us?