I am not Catholic, but in May I finish 35 years of teaching at my Catholic school. Raised in rural Arkansas in the 1960’s, I learned to stay away from Catholics and Pentecostals. Now, my little Evangelical Pentecostal Protestant self has learned to so appreciate the Catholic traditions and find peace and meaning in the Catholic Mass. At so many turning points in my life, the men and women with whom I work (the majority of them Catholics themselves) have been the hands and feet, voices and hearts, knees and minds of God to me.
In this Covid year, all-school Mass with 1600 + people in one gym has been temporarily postponed. Mass happens, though, at least a couple of mornings a week (where, for sure, 1600 people don’t show up) and some arrangements for times during the day periodically. This week our beloved priest sent out a notice that Friday morning’s mass would be a special mass to pray for the peace and healing of our country.
Several years ago I attended Mass most mornings. Of late, I haven’t been as regular an attendee as most, or much at all, but this morning I wanted to join like minded colleagues and any students who came to join and pray for the country we so love, for we do, at least most of us, truly love this country, no matter how differently we feel the direction we should go.
In the Mass the first reading was from the First Letter of the Apostle John telling that God’s testimony is greater than that of men. John talks about God’s testimony of His Son and the Spirit who tells of Him; but for those of faith, that truth spills over. God’s truth is the truth.
So, how then to deal with the uproar of the country this week? How to even begin to heal a country that so many SAY they want to heal, even as each side states they will never forgive the other.
Father got up and read the Gospel from Luke 5 where Jesus saw a man with leprosy, literally “full of” leprosy. In that day and time those afflicted had to call out to any approaching, “Unclean! Unclean!” so as to warn them to be sure to stay away from the dreaded disease. No mask worn, no vaccine available—just self proclamation of the afflicted.
Jesus, though, had a reputation, and the stricken man fell before him. “If You are willing, you can make me clean.” And Jesus, his heart so moved by the plight of this sad, ill, outcast man, said, “I am willing; be cleansed.” And the leprosy left him, Scripture says, IMMEDIATELY.
Would that we could be so cured so fast—of course, of the virus running rampant in our streets and homes and hospitals. But, even more, if our hearts could lose the anger, if our minds could lost the seemingly ever-present inclination to hurl in anger names at each other. “She’s a socialist! No, a COMMUNIST!” “That’s what the Nazis did!” “He’s despicable!” “They’re rubes!”
And those are the words I dare to print.
But, how? To deny that we have felt some of those things is to deny any help in change—to deny that I have felt them anyway. How can we start to move away from the vitriol and hate seen every time it seems so-called “news” comes on tv or is printed in “The Newspaper of Record” or a blogger pushes “publish” or twitter lets loose or Facebook censors—or doesn’t?
Father carried with him to the front one of the Catholic Youth Bibles available in the school. “How do we do this? Paul told us how in Philippians. “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is worthy of respect, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if something is excellent or praiseworthy, think about these things. And what you learned and received and heard and saw in me, do these things. And the God of peace will be with you.”
To end his letter to Philippi, Paul wanted his readers to have peace.
How? Think on these things. What things? As I sat today in the hall, I looked at the list. Paul said, “Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, is there is any excellence and if anything is worthy of praise, dwell on these things.” (Philippians 4:8 New American Standard Version)
“Whatever is true. . . “ Truth. In this day of 24-hour news cycles and social media, of such divergent points of view and strident fact-hawkers, how can we know the truth? Scripture, from Old Testament to New reiterates time and again that God is Truth. Perhaps a good summary verse tells us that the Spirit of Truth (the Holy Spirit) will guide us in truth (John 16:13). But there are so many others. The truth is that God truly does reign. Those who believe themselves in charge have temporary authority, and then only as He allows. So, when anger and vitriol spills out, know, consider, think about—God truly is
Truth.
Whatever is right. Scripture is clear: Pray for those in authority over us; that is the right thing to do. In his first letter to his young student Timothy, Paul said, “First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way.” (I Timothy 2:1-2) The RIGHT thing to do is to pray for all of the leaders—those with whom I agree, and, perhaps even more, those with whom I so heartily disagree. This same principle applies in our personal lives when someone we love hurts us. A few years ago a friend hurt me badly. I could hardly bear to see her without crying, so deep was the betrayal. I knew forgiveness was not an option—Jesus commands forgiveness even to “seventy times seven.” But my heart literally hurt physically from a betrayal that led to consequences way beyond the singular act. When I prayed, “Lord, I do will forgiveness, but I cannot feel what I do not feel,” I felt in my heart the words “What are you commanded to do for those who treat you badly?”
And, so, each day I prayed blessings for that person and others involved. “Bless them. Bless them.” I would also pray to mean it—and, eventually, I did. We are not friends still. But I know I have forgiven; I also know that still I pray blessings for that person, and I do mean it and, at some point, pray for reconciliation. And I know God can work through that prayer for those with whom I cannot make things right if they do not want it, and, in larger circles, with the leaders I do not even know with whom I agree or disagree. I long, as Paul said, for a “peaceful and quiet life.” The past few years have not given that to many; what a small price to sacrifice our pride and pray, “God bless the ones in charge of our country—give them the wisdom and grace to make good decisions. Bless them, bless them.” When I don’t even know what to pray, blessings seems to be a good fallback choice, but also to consider other ways, which is
right to do—give them wisdom, clarity, peace.
In Philippians, Paul said, think on what is “right;” other translations translate the word “just.” Scripture is clear: it is right and just to follow the law—as long as it does not break God’s law. When told not to preach the gospel, the disciples chose prison (and those prisons had no tv or indoor plumbing) over obedience. “We must obey God rather than man.” (Acts 5:29) But, when the laws did not cross, they obeyed man’s law—they paid taxes, worked, gave respect to authorities over them. There are some issues where faith and state law will not coexist; but where they can, it is
right and just for them to do so. And we should think hard on what those are and how to keep peace in those ways.
Think, Paul said, on what is
pure. What is pure? “Free from blemish; free from contamination” among other definitions, according to dictionary.com. Well, when I think of “pure,” when I stop and consider that word, I see the love from my dog’s eyes looking at me. So pure is that love that no matter what I do, no matter how I do not deserve it, they love me. At least in my life, to show me what His unconditional love resembles, God gave me dogs. Pure freedom I see when my horses run after being in the barn for a time, released to the pasture, legs pounding, necks outstretched, mane and tail flowing, racing each other, gathering with others till a small herd gallops by, beating the earth with joy. If I am fortunate, I am in the field with them and feel the herd split around me, pure joy from the free, happy horses running by, knowing where I am, sharing with me this time, letting me touch that pure freedom. I love to remember those moments, to think on that pure time. They lift my spirit.
Don’t forget, Paul reminds, to consider that which is
lovely. In this frightening, hate-scattering world, so much lovely still exists. I consider the future of my students, their youth protecting them from the possible consequences of the inexplicable actions of the D. C. elders they hear from, or the adults closer to home for that matter. America still gives them so many beautiful possibilities! I see their innocence, in spite of Big Tech and the virtual, too real games so many play. Their lovely faces, now hidden by masks, that I can see and study via a zoom class on the days they do not sit in my class. Also, the kindness of strangers to one another—lovely. When we can get outside and see a snow fall or a flower fight its way through the cold and say, “I will bloom in spite of it!”—lovely. To ponder, to think on such things: lovely.
Consider, Paul continues, those things of good repute. I sat in the hall as I read those words and just remember my friends who get up each day and do the day—go to the jobs they still have and do them well, despite the added hardships of a pandemic; the men and women who give and give beyond what they have to help others who can no longer get up and go to a job closed by a government that decided winning an election more important than helping a citizen; men and women who said, “I will sweep a floor if allowed rather than steal a loaf of bread” or “I will give up my pride and go to a food bank, but I will work at the food bank as well if they will let me.” People, in need like never before, still trying to help people. Good repute. And those with much means starting organizations to help save small businesses when the government that shut those businesses down refused to help. Good repute.
Paul commented, “Think of what is worthy of praise.” I thought of my son, who graduated from college in 2008 (when the bottom fell out of the world) with a degree in Computer Science and a minor in Physics. Though easily hired (he can do anything with a computer), like a lot of tech workers, the jobs kept closing. Finally, he had to move home. For Christmas that year, I gave him a class college class in Physics, since we knew he wanted to eventually go into that direction. He never paid for another class as, once they knew what he could do with computers, they put him to work and paid him to do graduate work and then Ph.D. work in Physics. Now an Astro-Physicist, he works at the National Laboratory in Los Alamos, New Mexico, where they made the fist atomic bomb. He and I are 180 degrees from each other politically—and I am so proud of him and so grateful for what he has accomplished after a rather difficult start in life academically at times. Mainly, I thought of how very, very grateful I am. This boy who grew into a Ph.D. when, at times, we worried he might not finish a B.S. Degree. Good repute. I love to think of it.
I also remembered the men and women in the building where I sat who have supported all of us in this new type of teaching. “Blended” they call it—half of our students sit in front of us, half of them zoom in; then, on another day, reverse their positions. The school has given us resources and training in new software and given us platforms to be able to run those software programs; given us masks and cleaning supplies and schedules that let us be present; given expectations for students, parents, and staff so we will take care of ourselves and each other. In August, we started school hoping to make it till September, then the first quarter—then finish the semester. And now, here we are, into the second semester, and the hope of vaccines really exists out there. The way the people here have helped each other—everyone: students, parents, staff, administration—deserves praise. I wish our leaders could see how well everyone, many of whom so divergent in political beliefs, work together. And each morning, we all bow our heads with students, together, and pray asking for God’s blessings on the day, then say the Pledge of Allegiance. What wonderful acts to consider and ponder. What deeds of good repute to think upon.
Dwell on these things. I realize there are so many more examples of each of these. I have friends who have such lovely children who so enrich their lives—new babies, toddlers. My husband and I have been married 40 years in March. I’m not sure where exactly in that list it falls, but it’s in there somewhere. A friend took care of her mother and then aunt, both living towards the 100 year mark, one over, I believe; such a lovely, loving, pure act of selflessness. And more. . . . and more. … . . there are so many more.
There is so much difficulty in the country now and the world. But, there is so much good as well. With the bad screaming at us 24/7 from every kind of output device around, we must intentionally stop and think and ponder. . . . consider. . . . think on those good and know God is Truth, and He is in charge.
And He is Good.
In 1946, a young pastor from Scotland became Chaplain of the Senate, the Reverend Peter Marshall. There are still a few recordings of his sermons online—very few—and the current Senate Chaplain, Reverend Barry C. Black, has spoken of how he admired him when a young man, how he grew up listening to records of Reverend Marshall’s sermons. This week I received a copy of prayers he had prayed when the Senate opened; it is still the habit of the Senate to start with prayer. I’m not sure they all come, but there is prayer. The first prayer in the book was given on January 6, 1947. Reverend Marshall prayed, “O Lord our God, if ever we needed Thy guidance, it is now—as the Congress begins a new session, standing upon the threshold of a new year, fraught with so many dangerous opportunities. We pray that Thou wilt bless these men (and women) chosen by the people of this Nation, for Thou knowest them, their needs, their motives, their hopes, and their fears. Lord Jesus, put Thine arm around them to give them strength, and speak to them to give them wisdom greater than their own. May thei hear Thy voice, and seek Thy guidance. May they remember that Thou art concerned about what is said and done here, and may they have clear conscience before Thee, that they need fear no man. Bless each of us according to our deepest need and use us for Thy glory, we humbly ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.
And so, we pray blessings for our leaders, and think on good things.
Amen.
