These are cut and pasted from my original blog . . .

These are cut and pasted from my original blog: www.myjourneytorome.blogspot.com. When that blog was hacked and taken over by someone, I had to change the name and move all the files to this site. I apologize for any confusion that caused.

Many of these posts now appear in my book, "Lessons Along the Journey" (Xulon Press), and can be ordered at www.richmaffeobooks.com, or (later in the fall of 2008) through Amazon and other bookstores.

---------------


Our Third Month Novena

Three months ago Nancy and I began our 9-day prayer (a Novena) for the unity of the Church. A few moments ago we finished our third series. We will continue, God helping, through Easter 2007.

This time, as we prayed back to the Father the words of the Lord Jesus in John 17, I was captured by the pathos of our Lord's prayer that we ALL be one, even as He and the Father are one.

Have any of you who are Protestants ever considered attending a few weeks of Mass at a Catholic Church? You might be surprised how much Scripture you will hear, recite and sing.

Have any of you who are Catholics ever considered attending a few weeks of services at an evangelical Protestant church? You might be surprised how much Scripture you will hear, recite and sing.

Unless both sides of the theological aisle (I don't mean to omit our Orthodox brethren) . . . unless both sides of the aisle learn FIRST HAND, and not from hearsay, about the other side, what hope is there for communication, or for a softening of our hardened attitudes?

Won't you please join Nancy and me in our monthly 9-day prayer for the unity of Christ's Body?

Let us know, and we can coordinate our days of prayer.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:34 PM 0 comments

Thursday, July 27, 2006
Never in Vain

As soon as I walked into his hospital room, I knew he was dying. I tried not to notice his labored breathing or his yellowed and swollen skin.

Six weeks earlier his doctors diagnosed colon cancer. On further examination they found another tumor in his left lung. A CT scan uncovered suspicious spots on his liver.

"Hi Dan," I choked back tears. "How are you feeling?"

He opened his dark, sunken eyes, turned his head and tried to smile.

"Tired," he whispered. "Good to see you."

It had been nearly five years since Dan and I were last together. My job change and move across country ended our weekly chats. When he and I spoke on the phone during the past Christmas, no one could have known it would be his last earthly
celebration of Christ's birth.

As I watched him struggle for air, my mind drifted to the time he shared with me the story of his conversion. He'd been raised an agnostic, educated in the most prestigious schools and trained as a clinical psychologist. He could have easily dismissed the emptiness gnawing at his heart as irrational foolishness. The idea that sin could be the root of his void was as foreign to his humanistic world view as east is from the west.

But when the Holy Spirit revealed to him the truth about sin, forgiveness and salvation, Dan suddenly knew he had to make a choice: bow to God or hide behind human philosophies.

He chose God, and from that moment, devoted his life to the cornerstone of God's truth: Jesus Christ.

Twenty-two years later, his body weakened by cancer, yet his faith remained powerful. As he had done for the last two decades of his life, he asked everyone who would listen, "Do you know my Jesus? Do you know my savior?"

Once, during the few days we spent together in his hospital room, I asked him, "Dan, how does it feel to know you are dying?"

My question was deeply personal for me. I learned long ago that a hospital room is where everything we hold dear to ourselves washes out: money, popularity, passions, careers -- like charred timbers after a house fire, a death-bed places so many things in clear perspective.

I needed to know the thoughts of this man of God. Perhaps his answer might help me cope during that future time when I lie in some hospital bed, staring into eternity.

He raised his hand to the bed-rail and touched mine.

"From life . . . to life," he smiled. "I leave this one to enter the next with Jesus. I fought the good fight. I finished my course. I kept the faith."

I placed my other hand atop his and let his words seep into my spirit. As was always true in our relationship, the thoughts I shared with him never approached the wisdom he shared with me.

We buried Dan a few days later. A chilled November wind whipped across the southwest Missouri cemetery. Rust-orange leaves carpeted the frozen dirt at our feet. And as the final words of eulogy drifted from the graveside, Dan's last words to me filtered once again into my memory, "fight the good fight, finish the course, keep the faith."

Dr. Daniel V. Taub illustrated how the Holy Spirit can use a child of God, even from a death-bed, to minister grace to anyone with ears to hear. Serving his Savior until his last breath, my friend's simple eloquence reminded me that our labors for Christ are never in vain .

End
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 7:57 PM 0 comments

Thursday, July 20, 2006
Always With Us

"Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands, your walls are ever before me" (Isaiah 49:15, 16).


The people killed His prophets, tore down His altars and built new ones to new gods. It was only a matter of time before the Lord's patience wore out and He sent them into captivity. When He did, their homeland became little more than a place about which they could only dream. Surely God had forgotten them -- or so they believed.

The Jews were not the only people to incorrectly believe God had forsaken them. Many of God's children today also believe themselves forgotten by God. Some lie captive behind concrete and steel. Others are imprisoned behind walls of sin. Still others live far from childhood sounds, sights, smells and tastes, wondering if God even remembers their name.

Isaiah's message of hope to God's people in the 8th Century BC is also rich with hope for us in the twenty-first. Whatever our past sins, whatever our current circumstances, whatever our unfulfilled hopes and dreams -- the God of all comfort has not forgotten His own.

Thank you, Lord, that you never, ever, leave me. Amen.

posted by rich 6:10 AM 0 comments

Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Agreeing on the Essentials

Last evening, my wife and I attended the same home bible study that we’ve attended for nearly 18 months. It’s a small group. At our largest, two dozen men and women squeezed into the living room of one member. At our smallest, we were only a handful.

In the last year and a half we’ve studied the bible books of Timothy and Acts. We're now studying our way through the Old Testament prophet, Amos.

We are Baptist, Pentecostal, non-denominational, Lutheran, and a few other Protestant denominations. And, counting myself, there are two Catholics.

We’re a mixed theological group.

Two of us – the Catholics – believe such Catholic-specific dogmas as purgatory is a real place, the Eucharist is the Real Presence of Christ, the Pope is the direct spiritual successor to St. Peter, and the three Marian dogmas are true. Some in our group believe in Eternal Security (e.g. once “saved,” a person can never lose his or her salvation). Some believe the gift of speaking in “tongues” is a spiritual gift (charism) for today’s Church. Others (besides the Catholics) believe in infant baptism.

And the list of differences goes on.

But I can count on one hand the number of times during our months together that we’ve talked about those differences. Instead, we have focused on what binds us together as Christians. We've focused on the Blessed Trinity. We've studied Christ’s life, ministry, atonement, resurrection and promised return in glory. We have set ourselves to deeper understanding of God’s grace, His matchless love for humankind, and how we should live our faith before others.

Or, said simply: we focus on the essentials of Christian faith found in the Nicene Creed.

So, what is my point? Perhaps our Tuesday night bible study is a picture of what the Body of Christ should look like . . . Christians agreeing to disagree about our differences, but finding unity in things essential to Christian faith – those same things found in the Creed and recited in Catholic and many Protestant churches each Sunday.

If unity can exist in our small group . . . then why not the larger Body?

Lord, bind us together in love.

Amen.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 7:09 PM 0 comments

Friday, July 07, 2006
Some Things Never Change

Amen, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not the smallest letter or the smallest part of a letter will pass from the law, until all things have taken place. (Matthew 5:18)

Who doesn’t know life can change in a moment? A doctor explains an MRI result to a young woman. An employer hands out the proverbial pink slip. A spouse walks away from a marriage, a parent deserts a child. Like a train rumbling toward us, life happens. It’s only a question of when it will arrive at our station.

That’s why this text can be a comfort. When life undulates around us, God’s word is an immoveable rock. When the 700-ton locomotive races at us, Scripture assures us God is a merciful Father who cares deeply for His children. When penitent sinners question God's willingness to forgive sin, Scripture’s promise stops that runaway train dead in its tracks.

As change roils through our culture, the unchanging word of God provides a solid foundation of truth. In the midst of cultural and religious upheaval, where definitions of sin shift with popular opinion, Christians can find the stability of moral conviction in the Church's teaching as it interprets sin in the light of Scripture and Sacred Tradition. Through the Church's guidance, Christians can know absolute truth from godless and deceptive error.

The Psalmist wrote, “Your word, Lord, stands forever; it is firm as the heavens. Through all generations your truth endures; fixed to stand firm like the earth.” (Psalm 119:89-90)

Isn’t it good to know some things never change?

Lord, I thank you that you are the same yesterday, today and forever. And I thank you for your eternal and unchanging truth. May it always be my anchor in the swells of change. Amen

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:25 PM 0 comments

Tuesday, July 04, 2006
If My People . . .

And the LORD appeared to Solomon by night, and said unto him . . . "If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land." (2 Chronicles 7:12-14)

Therefore I [Paul], the prisoner of the Lord, implore you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing tolerance for one another in love, being diligent to preserve the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. (Ephesians 4:1-3)

Please pray for the unity of the Church, the Body of Christ. For centuries we have been brutalized by the Father of Lies, the Source of all Evil. Pray that the Holy Spirit will make the Church weep for our divisions, that we weep for our sins (for who is without sin?).

Oh God, forgive us. Oh God, cleanse us. Oh God revive us again. Bring to fullness the prayer of our Lord Jesus Christ who asked you, Father, that we all be one, even as He and You are one.

In Christ, with Christ and through Christ, we ask. Amen

posted by rich 8:28 AM 0 comments

Saturday, July 01, 2006
No Time Like The Present


Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Oh, Forgive Us

While in prayer this morning, my gaze drifted to the photo hanging on the wall near my chair. It’s of our three children.

Nancy and I are grateful to our heavenly Father that Keren, Zion and Nathan -- all grown and out of the house -- that they like each other. They routinely call and email one another, and most Sundays the entire family chats via Instant Messenger.

Yes, as the Psalmist wrote: Behold, how good and how pleasant it is
for brothers to dwell together in unity! It is like the precious oil upon the head, coming down upon the beard, even Aaron's beard, coming down upon the edge of his robes. It is like the dew of Hermon coming down upon the mountains of Zion; for there the LORD commanded the blessing--life forever. (Psalm 133)

Nancy and I would be filled with unceasing sorrow if things were different, if our children disliked each other, ignored each other -- or worse, if they hurt each other. Grief would sear our hearts. We would mourn for our children until the days of our deaths.

Which brings me to my point.

The heart of our eternal, loving, compassionate Father in heaven grieves over the divisions in His family -- the Church. As He wept over the ruin of Israel, over its divisions and infighting, so He grieves over His children, adopted into His family through Christ, and who remain divisive, who ignore each other, are suspicious of each other, angry with each other -- even to the point of killing each other.

Think of it! Are we better than Cain who killed his brother and snapped at God, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”

When will it end? When will Protestants and Catholics and Orthodox forget the things that are behind, and press forward toward the high call of God in Christ Jesus (see Philippians 3:14)? When will we pray God to forgive us our pride, unforgiveness, intransigence, divisions and hatred of each other?

I am a Jew. Nancy is a Gentile. I am a man, she is a woman. I was raised in New York. She was raised in the mid-west. I am a Catholic, Nancy is Protestant.

Yet, as different as are our cultures, our heritages, our DNA and our understanding of Scripture and the Church, we love each other, care for each other, sacrifice for each other and try to understand each other.

Saint Paul wrote: For all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free man, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.

The Holy Spirit through Paul tells us -- He commands us -- “You are all one in Christ Jesus.”

One. Not divided.

The Lord Jesus said: A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another, even as I have loved you, that you also love one another. By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another. (John 13:34,35)

One. Not divided.

During the monthly Novena that Nancy and I pray, we pray for the Church. It's based on Nehemiah's prayer in the first chapter of his book. Oh, may God Almighty move our hearts -- Protestant, Catholic and Orthodox -- to repent of our sins of division, and purify our hard hearts.

O Lord, God of heaven, great and awesome God, you who preserve your covenant of mercy toward those who love you and keep your commandments, may your ear be attentive, and your eyes open, to heed the prayer which we, your servants, now offer in your presence day and night for your servants the Church, confessing the sins which we of the Church have committed against you, we and our spiritual ancestors.

Grievously have we offended you, not keeping the commandments, the statutes, and the ordinances which you committed to your servant Moses and your servants the apostles and prophets.

But remember, we pray, the promise which you gave through Moses, your servant, when you said to Israel: 'Should you prove faithless, I will scatter you among the nations; but should you return to me and carefully keep my commandments, even though your outcasts have been driven to the farthest corner of the world, I will gather them from there, and bring them back to the place which I have chosen as the dwelling place for my name.'

We are your servants, the Church, your people, whom you freed from slavery to sin by your great might and your strong hand. O Lord, may your ear be attentive to our prayer and that of all your willing servants who revere your name. Make us one in Christ.

For Him, with Him and through Him we pray. Amen.

And, amen.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:08 PM 0 comments

Thursday, June 22, 2006
Visiting the Ordinary

Scripture Meditation: Then an angel of the Lord appeared to [Zachariah], standing at the right side of the altar of incense . . . In the sixth month, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin's name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.


What was Mary doing when the angel visited her? Zachariah was performing his priestly duties when the angel Gabriel met him. No one would think it surprising that a priest, working in the Temple, should hear from God. But Scripture is silent regarding what Mary was doing.

Perhaps Gabriel found her in the kitchen preparing a meal. She might have been reading in the living room, or doing the laundry or mending clothes.

I believe Scripture is purposely silent because it doesn’t matter where she was or what she was doing. What matters is that the Holy visits ordinary people as easily as He visits priests and Religious. He meets people like you and me who do what ordinary people do: wash clothes, prepare meals, pay bills, fight traffic.

Did you ever contemplate the possibility that God comes to us during our ordinary day while we do our ordinary chores -- and that He speaks to us?

Usually, He doesn’t do so through an angel -- though Scripture and the Church teach that can and does occur. But more often, God visits us through the pages of His Word, which is “living and active and sharper than any two-edged sword.” For those willing to hear, the Bible communicates God’s presence more clearly than Gabriel spoke to the priest and to Mary.

Perhaps we don’t hear Him as often as God would like us to hear because we're too busy about our lives. How often do we set aside moments during the day to whisper a prayer toward Him? How often do we rise early for prayer, and open Scripture with an expectant ear?

No, no one should think it surprising when God speaks to a parish priest, deacon or other Religious. But, neither should anyone think it surprising when God speaks to the housewife, the truck driver, house-painter, teacher or sales clerk as they seek to practice the presence of Jesus, working out their vocations in service to the Master.


rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:15 PM 0 comments

Monday, June 19, 2006
Against Thee Only Have We Sinned

A couple of days ago I shared with you how Nancy and I are praying a Novena each month until next Pentecost Sunday. We added a prayer to the John 17 passage -- Nehemiah 1:5-11a. That's the passage where Nehemiah confesses to the Lord the sins of Israel in preparation for his request for favor from the Babylonian king.

Nancy and I believe the Church, on all sides of the theological aisle -- Roman Catholic, Protestant and Orthodox -- has sinned. We have sinned against each other through pride, intransigence, jealousy and who-knows-what-else. We have refused to listen to each other. We have refused to forgive each other. We have refused to accept each other.

And in so doing, we must humble ourselves to confess with King David, "It is against Thee only have I sinned and done what is evil in thy sight" (see Psalm 51).

Please join us in prayer for the unity of the Church. The Lord Jesus prayed it (John 17). Let us join Him.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:51 PM 0 comments

Saturday, June 17, 2006
What Am I Doing? -- A Meditation

Scripture Meditation: "While they were eating, Jesus took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and giving it to his disciples said, "Take and eat; this is my body." Then he took a cup, gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, "Drink from it, all of you, for this is my blood of the covenant, which will be shed on behalf of many for the forgiveness of sins” (Matthew 26:26-28).


When I stepped forward, the priest held up the consecrated Host and said, “The Body of Christ."

“Amen,” I answered as I placed the Bread of Life in my mouth, made the sign of the cross and moved toward the Eucharistic minister.

She held the cup toward me. “The Blood of Christ.”

“Amen.” I reached for it, but suddenly stopped mid-reach.

“What am I doing?” the thought flashed through my mind. “I just took the holy Body of our Savior.”

My mind riveted on that image.

People began stacking up behind me, so I quickly sipped Christ’s Blood, handed the chalice back to the minister and moved toward my pew.

But the moment stayed with me.

When the prophet Isaiah saw the Lord, he fell on his face in fear (Isaiah 6:5). When Moses approached God in the bush aflame with Holy Presence, he removed his sandals and “hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God” (Exodus 3:5-6). When St. John saw the risen and glorified Christ, he fell to the ground (Revelation 1:17). Yet when I stood before God a moment earlier, I felt no sense of awe.

“What am I doing?”

As I stood in my pew and sang a hymn with the rest of the congregation, I watched my fellow Catholics approach the Eucharist. Some chewed gum. Others glanced absently around the sanctuary. Many crossed themselves so rapidly, their hand nearly blurred as it brushed their forehead, chest and shoulders.

And I saw myself in them; casual, almost detached from the sacred moment.

“Lord,” I breathed my apology. “Truly, I am not worthy to receive you. Forgive me. Only say the word, and heal me of my irreverence.”

Something to Ponder: How should we approach the Lord Jesus during that sacred moment of Eucharistic celebration?

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 2:05 PM 2 comments

Thursday, June 15, 2006
Ignorance of Christ

It was St. Jerome who said, "Ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ."

As I was researching Biblical texts on my favorite Bible site: www.biblegateway.com, I found this page.

If you don't already have a plan to consistently read through your Bible, I recommend any of these.

True, the additional books found in Catholic Bibles are not included in these Bible-reading plans, but Catholics can easily supplement the plans by reading chapters in those books.

Why be ignorant of Christ?

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 12:59 PM 0 comments


Friday, June 09, 2006
Dirty Faces. Eternal Life.

It was only a casual glance at the mirror as I walked passed -- a moment when my eye stole a glimpse at my reflection. But what a moment it was! All Nature stopped, turned in my direction, and waited for my response to that. . . that little white and grey thing hanging from my left nostril.

"Oh, No! Who’s seen me like this!"

I yanked a handkerchief from my pocket and attacked my nose. I cocked and twisted my head, making sure I’d removed every last trace of that horrible blight. Then the knot in my stomach tightened. How long had I been walking around totally ignorant of my horrible plight? When did I last blow my nose? Just before I left the house?

Three hours ago!

I stuffed the handkerchief into my pocket and hurried off, wondering why no one had told me. Surely they’d seen it. Anyone looking in my direction from Australia could have seen it!

But the more I thought about it, the more I understood why they remained silent. They were almost as embarrassed to mention it as I was to discover it. They probably thought, "Maybe he'll scratch his nose and discover it without my having to bring up the subject." Or, "Maybe someone else will tell him."

How do I know that's what they thought? Because I also have made those same dumb excuses when I've looked at someone's face and wondered "How do I tell him about his dirty nose?"

Well, believe it or not, there is a spiritual point in all this, because in dealing with my own embarrassment I learned two important things about dirty faces --and eternal life.

First, mirrors are very important. Had I not seen my reflection, I might have continued through the rest of the day with that thing dangling on my nose. But that looking glass reminds me of another mirror -- the Bible. "For the word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword . . . and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart" (Hebrews 4:12).

More than three decades ago, when I first read the pages of God's "mirror," a much more serious blemish than nose slime caught my eye. Like the piece of mucous stuck to the end of my nose, this cursed spot (God calls it sin) clung stubbornly to my life. Trust me, discovering that blight was not one of my favorite moments. But it could certainly have been much worse. If it had not been for His mirror, my spiritual dirt would still be stuck to me.

The embarrassment of discovering slime dangling from my nose can't compare to the shame I would have experienced when I stood unclean before the Lord.

Which brings me to the second point: Walking around all morning with a dirty nose is not the worst thing that will ever happen to someone. But dying dirty with unforgiven sin definitely is.

I wish someone had told me my nose was dirty, but I am forever thankful someone told me my life was dirty. I am so grateful that person pointed me to God's word where I learned not only of sin's stain on my life, but also of Christ’s blood which can cleanse me.

My dirty nose reminded me again how badly people need someone willing to risk embarrassment and tell them, kindly and with humility, their lives are dirty. They need someone - like you and like me - to tell them they need a Savior.

After all, If we don't tell them about Jesus Christ, who will?

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 8:46 AM 1 comments

Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Unity of the Church

During the last year or so, I have not been able to read this passage in John's gospel without a sigh of longing:

(17:21) " . . . that they may all be one; even as You, Father, are in Me and I in You, that they also may be in Us, so that the world may believe that You sent Me. (Italics are mine).

If you've time, read the whole chapter for context.

My wife and I have committed ourselves to pray John 17 for a period of nine days each month as a Novena for the unity of the Church. We will continue that pattern through Pentecost Sunday 2007.

We ask each of you who read this post to do likewise. After all, unity of His body is the heart of Jesus.

rich

posted by rich 4:34 PM 0 comments

Friday, May 26, 2006
Not As Others

I recently celebrated my 56th birthday. I still remember when I was 18 and fresh out of high school. The years have passed like a night.

So, there I was in my prayer corner, thanking the Lord for my 56 years of life -- when I realized I’m older than I thought. Nine months older, in fact.

After all, I was no more alive when Mom gave birth to me, than when I floated through her fallopian tube toward her endometrial tissue where I would be nourished for the next nine months.

Then, at the right time, Mom’s body went into labor and expelled me into the next phase of life. And, well, here I am, 56 years later.

No, my life didn’t begin on that “birth”day in May, 1950. And neither will it end on the day when I die.

“I am the resurrection and the life,” the Lord Jesus said. “He who believes in Me will live even if he dies, and everyone who lives and believes in Me will never die.” (John 11:25-26)

Purgatory notwithstanding, on that somber day (somber for those I leave behind) I will join the great cloud of witnesses -- the numberless men, women and children around God’s throne -- who praise His glorious name forever and ever.

No wonder St. Paul wrote, “But we do not want you to be uninformed, brethren, about those who are asleep, so that you will not grieve as do the rest who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus . . . Therefore comfort one another with these words.” (1 Thessalonians 4)

Oh! What a hope and a comfort those words can be to those standing at the graveside of their loved one who was expelled into the next phase of life -- the phase that will have no end.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. Amen.

end

posted by rich 7:32 PM 0 comments

Saturday, May 20, 2006
The Empty Roar

I tossed and turned trying to ignore Eric's wall-rattling snores from the guest room down the hall. But it was no use. There would be no further sleep for me until he rolled over.

May as well check on David, I thought to myself as I threw off the covers and slipped out of bed. Our four year old could sleep through a tornado, so I was not expecting to see him lying awake in his bed. His eyes were wide with terror.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting down beside him. He didn't answer, but hearing the growls down the hall, I guessed the problem.

"Are you frightened?"

He nodded and pointed toward the other room. "Lion," he whispered and snuggled close to me.

"You think there is a lion in the house?" I tried not to smile.

When he nodded again, I lifted him into my arms and tiptoed to the other room. I opened the door and showed him the 'lion.' David stared at him for a few moments. And then he smiled.

In reflecting on that experience I see an uncomfortably close spiritual parallel between David's fears and those of my own. Satan's roar can sometimes seem very much like a lion's, and it can paralyze me with fear . . . of the unknown, of the future, of the past, of the present. My “What if” replaces God’s “I am my Beloved’s and He is mine.”

It has been said, "God's peace is always greater than our fears." I think St. Paul understood this.

What will separate us from the love of Christ?
Will anguish, or distress, or persecution, or famine,
or nakedness, or peril or the sword? . . . No, in all
these things we conquer overwhelmingly through him who
loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor
life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things,
nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth,
nor any other creature will be able to separate us from
the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:35-39).

Standing at the threshold of the lion's den and seeing the truth, peace washed over my son's heart.

Oh! To be as a child in the arms of our heavenly Father; To stand with Him at the threshold of hell itself and know...to really know the glorious truth that Satan's rage has been forever deflected by Calvary!

The Scripture declares: God did not give us a spirit of cowardice but rather of power and love . . . (2 Timothy 1:7 NAB). But I am too often too busy cowering in the corner to remember that truth which can set me free (John 8:32).

That alone is sufficient reason to ask God to grant us a hunger for His word; that we might thirst for it as a parched deer searching for a cool spring. How else can we know Christ's freedom except by knowing His word? How else can we understand God's power within us to stand at the threshold of hell itself and sense the peace of God wash over our hearts?

Though our guest's snores rattled on, my son went back to bed and quickly fell asleep. He was no longer frightened.

Satan's roar can seem ferocious. It can rob us of our joy, our freedom, and peace. But God wants us to know truth: when confronted with faith, Satan's roar sounds more like a whimper than a spine-chilling howl.

Because a whimper is what it really is.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 3:53 PM 0 comments

Monday, May 15, 2006
Our Faith Formation/Sunday school Class

Some of you know Nancy and I taught 6th graders this past year at St Charles Borromeo church. We spent 27 weeks with the kids, teaching them the fundamentals of our Catholic faith. Yesterday was our last day.

We weren't expecting anything from the kids except, perhaps, thank you. But mostly, we expected the kids to just, well, be kids, and wander out of the room when the class was over.

And, as expected, that's what some of them did.

But others . . . well, here is what some of them wrote in their thank-you cards:

NM wrote: "Dear Mr and Mrs Maffeo, Thank you so much for a wonderful year. Your dedication and commitment to teach has helped me grow in my religion which as made me feel closer to God. May God bless you and THANKS AGAIN for everything!! THANKS."

SS wrote, "Thank you!"

CT wrote, "Dear Mr and Mrs Maffeo, thank you for a wonderful year of religious education. I learned so many thing, Bible stories, the books of the bible, and so much more! Thanks again, I can't wait to see you next year!"

NS wrote: "Thank you for your guidance in Sunday School."

Mrs SB wrote: "Dear Mr and Mrs Maffeo, Thanks so much for all your hard work in teaching our son, C this year. I really appreciate your dedication. I hope you enjoy your summer."

And C added: "Thank you for teaching me. It was very fun."

One of the other children asked Nancy if we get paid for teaching them. No, of course we don't.

But, then again . . . yes we do. And I have to say, "It is so very fun."

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:09 PM 0 comments

Sunday, May 14, 2006
Merely saying it . . .

On this day in 1950, missionary and martyr Jim Elliot wrote in his journal: "To believe is to act as though a thing were so. Merely saying a thing is so is no proof of my believing it."

This morning, as we attend Mass or another church service, let Elliot's words ring true for us. Merely saying a thing is no proof of our believing it. How we act, however . . .

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 7:50 AM 0 comments

Friday, May 12, 2006
The Thief

James Krueter crept quietly in the moonlight through Utah's Canyonlands National Park. When he reached the cave, he stopped long enough to crouch inside the entrance and strain his ears. Had anyone followed him? No. He was alone.

Forcing his shovel into the dirt, Krueter soon found them: stone tools, a clay pot and a woven blanket. They would bring a good price on the black market.

But money could never replace what he destroyed. In a few hours the culture thief ravaged the secrets of a civilization hidden for centuries under layers of ancient soil. The damage was irreparable and brought an end to our ability to learn about that primitive people.

Most people would agree, Krueter's crime is deplorable. But what can be said for the crimes of the Great Bandit who destroys far more than ancient history? Slinking quietly through the shadows, Satan searches for unguarded entrances to our hearts. When he finds a place, he starts digging. One stone at a time, he destroys a family culture of hope and faith. For good reason, Scripture warns us to be on the alert against him (1 Peter 5:8).

William and Susan Montgomery are only one example. For 21 years they struggled to pay bills, put food on the table and establish their home for Christ. For more than two decades they nurtured three children through bruises, sicknesses and broken bones. They helped them with homework, brought them to church, chauffeured them back and forth to school events. Yet all the while, the Thief was digging into their relationship. Year after year, angry words, unchecked lusts and spoonfuls of "little" things gouged into their hearts until the ancient soil was unrecognizable. In the end, William and Susan went their separate ways -- their family destroyed, their children aching, their friends wondering why.

Phil and Carol also left their hearts unguarded. So what, if the car burned a little oil and sounded like a tank rumbling down the street? So what, if their small three bedroom house needed another coat of paint, or franks and beans lost their appeal after the third night in a week? Despite their struggles, Phil and Carol had time and energy each evening to play games on the living room carpet with their two children.

But they didn't hear the devil digging. Look at that gorgeous dress your friend is wearing, Satan cooed in Carol's ear. To Phil, he murmured, That sure is a nice car your neighbor just bought.

Coveted luxuries soon became necessities. Phil's overtime hours and Carol's new job quickly left them weary and cranky with each other and the children. Seasons quickly melted into years, and while their home accumulated "things," it lost the luster of family closeness. Not until their children were grown and out of the house did Phil and Carol realize how much they each longed for a return to the simpler days of franks and beans, and games on the carpet.

Whoever we are, wherever we are, Satan's methodical digging always produces shattered dreams, broken hearts and wounded spirits.

"Unless the Lord builds the house," the Psalmist wrote, "they labor in vain who build it" (Psalm 127:1). A loose translation might read: Unless Christ becomes -- and remains -- the center of our homes, our efforts to keep it together and fruitful for God's kingdom are doomed to failure." Why? St. Peter has the answer: "Be of sober spirit, be on the alert. [Our] adversary, the devil, prowls about like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour" (1 Peter 5:8).

We all would do well to heed Scripture's warnings. Our homes are too precious and much more valuable than clay pots or old blankets. And the Thief is always looking for someplace to dig.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 8:58 PM 0 comments


Call Home

My wife and I flew from Seattle to Southern California last week to celebrate her mother’s 90th birthday. We also visited a few days with our youngest son, Nathan. The last time Nancy and I had seen him was back in December.

On the flight, Nancy sat next to an elderly couple. I guessed their ages somewhere in the late 60s or early 70s. They were on their way to visit the husband’s son. They’d not seen each other – or spoken with each other – in thirty years.

Thirty.

Years.

I shook my head with remorse for them – the husband and son, and the wife -- when Nancy told me that sad detail. She didn’t know why they’d been estranged so long. But even as I write this, a week later, I wonder about the regret the father must feel – and hopefully the son as well – for having been apart so long.

It is surely a blessing of God that the father is still alive and healthy enough to travel to what I hope was a joyous reunion.

The image of that couple brings to mind two very important points.

First, if your mom and/or dad is still alive, call them. Today. Call them often. Visit them. Even if – especially if – you’ve been estranged for whatever reason. The Lord’s admonition – “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us” – surely applies to estranged family members.

Tomorrow, their lives -- or yours -- can change forever.

The second point is this:

How long has it been since you visited Him at Mass? How long has it been since you spent time with Him in prayer and reading Scripture? Or are you estranged? Don’t let past disappointments, sins, remorse or apathy keep you from returning to Him.

No one knows how tomorrow will change our lives forever.

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 3:10 PM 0 comments

Thursday, May 04, 2006
Quiet with the King of Glory
I thought my wife was joking when she suggested I leave the cell phone in the car. What if someone wanted to get hold of me?

But I could tell by her face she wasn't kidding. So, I slid the phone into its car cradle. I didn't know it then, but God had been trying to get hold of me for quite some time, and all He'd been getting was a busy signal.

The St. Edmund's Sunset Cruise and Evening of Reflection was not like cruises I'd experienced in the past. Nancy and I lived for several years in San Diego where we enjoyed dinner cruises around the harbor, savoring sumptuous meals of chicken and beef, soft dinner music and city lights in the distance.

In contrast, the St. Edmund's Cruise provided us a choice of ham, turkey or tuna sandwiches, a bag of chips and chocolate brownie. Instead of the fragrance of steaming coffee, we breathed ocean salt. A cappella hymns replaced smooth-jazz dinner music. An orange-red sun melting behind clouds on the horizon took the place of city lights along the shoreline. The sometimes-boisterous conversations of couples around us were replaced by the quiet reflection of men and women as we gently rocked with the ship.

Thirty minutes into our cruise, the captain cut the engines and hoisted the sails. That's when Father Tom Hoar, Director of St Edmund's Retreat, stood at the bow of the schooner, read scripture and reminded us of our part in God's Creation. “Just as we can see God's beauty in nature before us,” he said “we need to learn to see God's image and beauty in each other."

I was glad I'd left the phone in the car. It's hard to hear God when I'm listening for other voices.

When I met Father Tom a few days later over coffee, he told me, "People sometimes arrive onboard with broken spirits. The cruise offers a time to discover, or to rediscover, the mercy and the power of God in their lives.”

The Evening Of Reflection Cruise “offers people an opportunity to quiet down for a few hours. And besides," he added, "it's just a pleasant and emotionally aesthetic experience. So, if you can bring prayer into that, then you hope people will find other ordinary ways to bring God into their lives."

He sipped his decaf and then added, "You see all this stuff on TV, or go to bookstores and you see all this pop spirituality, and a lot of it is self-help claptrap," he said. "And really the message is very simple: God created us, God loves us, God loves us so much that He gave Christ to redeem us. And God is available to each of us."

I mused over that thought for a while: God loves us, and He is available to each of us. And in the musing, I learned to yearn for that quiet place prepared by the King of Glory, a place where I can reflect on His goodness, and meditate on His love.

I found that quiet place some time later. It was in a small corner of our guest room, by the window. I converted the space into a chaplet, where I hung a crucifix on the wall opposite my rocker and sectioned the area off with a screen.

It’s where I quiet myself with the King an hour earlier than I would otherwise awaken. It’s where I meet Him again in the evening before I go to sleep.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church states, ". . . Christians owe it to themselves to develop the desire to meditate regularly . . . to advance, with the Holy Spirit, along the one way of prayer: Christ Jesus." (paragraph 2707)

I’m glad I left the cell phone behind that summer evening. It taught me the value of leaving behind things that can distract me, so I can enter quietly, meditatively, into the presence of God.

It is only there, with God, can anyone find rest.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 7:58 AM 0 comments

Monday, May 01, 2006
Perfect Prayer Partners

I posted this more than a year ago. But, since some still ask me the question, this is probably a good time to re-post my thoughts about the prayers of the Saints -- the Apostle's Creed refers to it as the Communion of Saints.

--------------


I think everyone in the Pentecostal church I attended called her Mother Horner. And for good reason. If God heard anyone's prayers, I knew He heard hers. She served the Lord Jesus the better part of 65 years before He called her home. She and her husband spent decades as missionaries in Europe. They established churches and founded Bible colleges across the southern part of the United States. You couldn't stand next to her without sensing her deep friendship with God.

She was Mother to virtually all younger women in the church and confidant to those near her own age. People flocked to her after worship services. They called her at home. They stopped her in the supermarket. Whenever someone needed prayer for healing, a better job, a strained relationship, people knew she would touch God for them.

But I never asked her for prayer. It's not that I didn't need God's help. I needed it plenty, especially in those years. My kids got sick as often as anyone else's. I lost my job twice during the ten years Nancy and I attended that church. And, like most everyone else, we had our share of marital tension. But I never wanted to impose on Mother Horner. She seemed too busy with others. And my needs seemed trivial compared to the serious stuff going around our church at the time - deaths, cancer, divorce, children caught in drug and alcohol addictions.

In retrospect, I know I was foolish to keep myself on the sidelines while others brought her their prayer requests. I was young in my faith and too self-conscious to approach someone I considered unapproachable. So I lived those years praying for myself and asking others to pray for my kids, my jobs and my relationship with Nancy. And God worked wonderful things in our home as a result of those prayers.

But as my faith matured, I realized family and friends - even saints like Mother Horner -- are not always as focused on others as we might perceive them to be. Life gets in their way. A multitude of personal commitments, responsibilities, and minor crises jostle for their time and attention. Sometimes they simply forget to do what they promised.

It happens to all of us. How often have I promised friends I would pray, only to get inundated with mortgage payments, problems on the job, or family obligations? Without realizing it, my good intentions slipped to "whenever I remembered it." Too often I remembered it when I spotted them at the mall.

In thirty years of walking with the Lord, I never articulated the thought, but, oh, how I wanted a perfect prayer partner, someone who was never too busy, or preoccupied. Someone who never forgot to pray for me. But such a thing could never happen this side of heaven.

Or, could it?

I remember August 31, 2003 as if it happened last week. I can tell you where I was and what I was wearing. I can even tell you the time. Nine-fifteen in the evening. I remember it so well because that was when I first asked Mary, the mother of God, to pray for me.

I suppose for Catholic Christians, asking Mary's intercession is not unusual. Catholics routinely (at least, that's my perception) ask Saints such as Mary, Joseph, Paul, Elizabeth, or Anne for prayer. But for someone like me who attended Evangelical Protestant churches for thirty years, asking the "dead" for prayer seemed analogous to attending seances or reading Tarot cards and astrological charts.

I believed "real" Christians ask the living for prayer. Not those in their graves.

I don't know why, in all those years, I never understood the Lord's comment to the Sadducees in the context of prayer. "(God) is not God of the dead," the Lord Jesus chided, "but of the living, for to Him all are alive" (Luke 20:38). Nor do I know why the Lord's conversation with Moses and Elijah on the Mount of Transfiguration never set me questioning my conviction that Christians don't go around asking the Saints on the other side of eternity for prayer. After all, Moses had been "dead" a long time by the time of the Transfiguration. Elijah had been in heaven for several centuries, as well. Yet, the Lord Jesus engaged in a lengthy discussion with them.

Suddenly a flood of Scripture texts swept across my memory. Luke's gospel records a glimpse into a conversation between people beyond the grave (Luke 16:19-31). If the Rich Man interceded for his brothers to Father Abraham, "so that they won't come to this place," might any of the Saints living on the other side of the grave intercede for us who live on this side? St. Paul wrote about our family in heaven (Ephesians 3:15). What family is not concerned for its other members? The writer to the Hebrews
reminded the first century Christians, "you have approached . . .the heavenly Jerusalem . . .the assembly of the firstborn enrolled in heaven . . .and to the spirits of the just made perfect" (Hebrews 12:22-23). The Church in heaven is as alive - more alive -- than we on earth.

On and on the evidence unfolded around me. God gave the Church a wealth of prayer resources. Perfect prayer partners, partners who live in eternity where time and space don't exist. The Saints in that great cloud of witnesses (Hebrews 12:1) are always available to us. They're never tired, ill, hungry, or busy. They pray as fervently for us about "big" needs as they do for minor ones.

Scripture instructs Christians to pray for others (e.g. Ephesians 6:18-19; 1 Timothy 2:1-3; James 5:14-15). And I am grateful for family, friends and all the Mother Horners who care about me enough to bring my needs before God's throne. But I am also grateful to now realize that if God hears the prayers of those on earth, surely He hears the prayers of those around His throne: St. Mary, St. Peter, St. Elizabeth and all the others - "spirits of righteous (people) made perfect" (see Hebrews 12:23).

We could never hope for more perfect prayer partners.

end
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 8:21 PM 0 comments

Friday, April 28, 2006
Do Catholics Worship Mary?
I posted this last summer. I've recently received questions about this subject, so, I thought this might be a good time to repost it.



Perhaps you remember the story in Joshua 22. Joshua called the tribes of Reuben, Gad and the half-tribe of Manasseh and gave them permission to return to their land on the other side of the Jordan.

A short time later, Joshua heard rumor that those tribes had set up an altar to worship other gods. He gathered the army and marched in battle array back to the Jordan. If the rumor proved true, blood would flow.

Please read the story here .It makes an important point. When Joshua and the rest of Israel challenged Rueben, Gad and Manasseh, the three tribes cried out: “The Mighty One, God, the Lord, the Mighty One, God the Lord! He knows, and may Israel itself know. If it was in rebellion, or if in an unfaithful act against the Lord, do not Thou save us this day!”

Rueben, Gad and Manasseh explained the purpose of their altar was not to serve other gods, but rather to act as a “witness between us and you and between our generations after us, that we are to perform the service of the Lord . . . .”

In other words, it “appeared” the tribes on the other side of the Jordan had fallen into idolatry. But when the leaders of Israel investigated the matter, Joshua and his army discovered the truth, and they left in peace.

This historical account is analagous to the problem many non-Catholics have with regard to our Catholic statues and religious practice. To be honest, I can understand how non-Catholics confuse some of our activities -- such as bowing to statues and placing candles before them -- as idolatry. For thirty-three years, I thought the same thing.

Until I investigated the matter.

For example, the Catechism of the Catholic Church has this to say about idolatry: The Catholic Church clearly teaches idolatry is grave sin. Idolatry not only refers to false pagan worship. It remains a constant temptation to faith. Idolatry consists in divinizing what is not God. Man commits idolatry whenever he honors and reveres a creature in place of God, whether this be gods or demons (for example, Satanism), power, pleasure, race, ancestors, the state, money, etc. Jesus says, "You cannot serve God and mammon." Many martyrs died for not adoring "the Beast" refusing even to simulate such worship. Idolatry rejects the unique Lordship of God; it is therefore incompatible with communion with God. (The Catechism [CCC]}, para. 2113)

When Catholics bow to an image or statue, we do not bow as to an idol, but we honor the person represented by the image. It's not unlike how a soldier far from home might hold a picture of his wife in his hands and kiss it. When he does so, he's not kissing an image as if it is anything, but he is trying to draw near in his mind to the one the photo represents.

As for worshipping Mary, many Catholics are surprised to learn non-Catholics think that of us. Although we know her as ever-virgin, immaculately conceived and physically assumed into heaven (some beliefs of which were also held by Reformers such as Martin Luther and John Calvin), Catholics simply honor her as Scripture teaches we should:

(Luke 1:41) “When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit . . . exclaimed: "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear!"

And Mary responded: "My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior . . . From now on all generations will call me blessed . . .” (Luke 1:46-49)

I wonder if Protestants have thrown out the proverbial baby with the bath water. During my years in Protestant churches, I could count on one hand the times I heard Mary’s name mentioned apart from the Christmas season. Trying so hard to distance themselves from what many consider heretical Catholic doctrine, Protestant Christians seem to have relegated the woman who is above all women in Scripture to the narrow recesses of December sermons.

Regarding our devotion to Mary, the Catholic Catechism teaches: The Church's devotion to the Blessed Virgin is intrinsic to Christian worship. The Church rightly honors the Blessed Virgin with special devotion. From the most ancient times the Blessed Virgin has been honored with the title of 'Mother of God,' to whose protection the faithful fly in all their dangers and needs. . . . This very special devotion . . . differs essentially from the adoration which is given to the incarnate Word and equally to the Father and the Holy Spirit, and greatly fosters this adoration . . ." (CCC 971)

The Catechism continues, "Mary's function as mother of men in no way obscures or diminishes this unique mediation of Christ, but rather shows its power. But the Blessed Virgin's salutary influence on men . . . flows forth from the superabundance of the merits of Christ, rests on his mediation, depends entirely on it, and draws all its power from it." "No creature could ever be counted along with the Incarnate Word and Redeemer; but just as the priesthood of Christ is shared in various ways both by his ministers and the faithful, and as the one goodness of God is radiated in different ways among his creatures, so also the unique mediation of the Redeemer does not exclude but rather gives rise to a manifold cooperation which is but a sharing in this one source." (CCC 970)

When Rueben, Gad and Manasseh built that altar, they meant it for good. They meant it to serve as a reminder to subsequent generations on both sides of the Jordan that God Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen, was their God.

Not until Joshua and the other Israelites investigated the allegations did the entire nation find peace among themselves.

Catholics make statues of Mary and other saints to serve as reminders for us of the Almighty Triune God – Father, Son and Holy Spirit. We honor the images of saints because of Whose they were and to Whom they belonged (you might recognize my allusion to Paul’s statement in Acts 27:23).

Catholics and Protestants may never come to agreement on various points of doctrine. However, I hope that when non-Catholics investigate the theology and the devotion to Christ that is behind Catholic practice and belief about Mary and the saints, the entire church will find peace among ourselves.

A good site for further research is www.catholic.com

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 5:38 AM 0 comments

Thursday, April 20, 2006
Someone Greater

From the 21st floor window of my hotel, the mountains surrounding the city look close enough to touch. They are a commanding presence. Even at ground level, the city residents can’t miss them.

The town is popularly called, Sin City. I don’t know why Las Vegas merits that dubious distinction more than any other of the cities I’ve visited. New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Seattle . . . many cities regurgitate their sleezy side to visitors and residents alike.

I arrived after noon for a four-day national nursing conference. Within moments of stepping off the airplane, I walked through a gaming area. Gambling machines are ubiquitous in Las Vegas.

However, when I arrived at baggage claim, my jaw dropped open when I saw – for a nanosecond, before I averted my eyes – two big-screen monitors on which nearly nude women and men gyrated across the screens in what looked like simulations of sexual acts. I think they were providing viewers a preview of some local shows, but of how much can one be sure in only a nanosecond?

This was in the baggage claim area, the place through which tens of thousands of men, women -- and children -- pass each day.

But, back to my hotel.

The facility in which I stayed for three and a half days is a national-chain hotel of more than three thousand rooms and multiple convention sites. Directly across the street, are two billboards advertising local night-spots. One billboard showed half-naked men. The other displayed women as unclothed as one could be without qualifying as nude.

I could also see joggers from my window. I followed a few with my eyes as they passed curbside newspaper-type dispensers. The dispensers are not full of newspapers. They offer free “girlie” magazines, advertising “totally nude” shows around the corner.

If you’re getting the idea pornography is as ubiquitous in this city as are gambling machines, I’ve made my point. Why some call Las Vegas a “family-friendly” vacation spot is something I hope to never understand.

But, back to the mountains.

Even as I write this, I am looking out over the majestic sentinels surrounding this city, and I think of the matchless grace of God. Within sight of Sin City, the King of Glory has placed unmistakable evidence of His Presence.

The heavens declare the glory of God – and so does His creation (Psalm 19). Anyone living or visiting in this city, whose heart grows hungry for purity, for hope, grace and forgiveness – even those trapped in cycles of pornographic degradation or gambling addiction –can simply look to the hills. It is there our heavenly Father advertises day after day, night after night, Someone greater than their bondage, greater than their hopelessness, and greater than their fear is only a prayer away.

Scripture could not be more clear: All who call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.

Thanks be to God.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 3:58 PM 1 comments

Sunday, April 16, 2006
Alive. He's Alive

Yesterday. Only yesterday, I mourned. My hope, my heart lay in a tomb. Brutalized. Bloodied. Cold.

It was over. How could I go on? All I loved, all I needed was gone. Darkness descended over my soul.

But today. Today. Oh, but today -- He is risen. He is risen. He is risen.

And I can face tomorrow, and the days beyond that, until my days begin in eternity.

He’s alive.

It’s not over.

He’s alive.

It’s begun.

All things are new. Death no longer the victor. Death no longer stings. The grave was torn asunder when the Lord of Life stepped from the tomb .

My Jesus, I love thee. I know thou art mine. For thee, all the follies of sin I resign. My gracious redeemer, my savior art thou. If ever I loved thee, my Jesus ‘tis now.*

*From the hymn, My Jesus, I Love Thee, by W. Featherston

posted by rich 5:58 AM 0 comments

Saturday, April 15, 2006
How Can I Go On?

I woke this morning, and for a moment -- oh, how blessed was that moment -- I thought it had been a nightmare.

But it wasn't.

The weight of my grief fell over me and I immediately got sick and heaved.

But my stomach was empty. Like my heart. Like my soul.

It's over.

It's over.

God is silent. Heaven is lead. Life is a shadow.

Where will I go? What am I to do? How can I face the rest of my days with the images of his tortured body torturing my mind? For the rest of my life -- until I go down to Sheol -- I will see his agony. I will hear his parched voice from the cross.

Hope has mocked me. Joy turned to ashes before my eyes. The love of my soul lies in a tomb.

Dead.

How can I go on?

posted by rich 7:30 AM 0 comments

Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Silent Teachers

Holy Week. The center of Christian faith. The focus of eternity.

Which is why I think of cemeteries.

I don’t usually visit them. Cemeteries, I mean. Even when the sun warms the manicured grass, sparrows sing from branches above my head and gentle breezes kiss wild flowers at my feet, graveyards are not my favorite recreational spot. I prefer lounging at the beach or relaxing at a campsite along a mountain side. However, once in a while I feel a sense of longing for deceased friends or loved ones, and I visit their final resting place. When I do, I usually don’t stay longer than it takes to lose myself in a few memories. Nor do I wander among the headstones of strangers laid beneath white or gray marble markers, poised at attention like eternal sentries all around me.

I don’t know why, on a recent visit to a graveyard, I altered my typical pattern of stand-remember-and leave. This time I turned and wandered through the rows of tombstones, stopping every now and again to read the few words etched in stone to summarize a lifetime:

Joseph Kurtin - Born May 15, 1850, Died July 2, 1923. Four words and two dates. What had he done in life? How many people mourned his death? Does anyone still remember him?

A few rows to the left, I read two others standing side by side: Everett Stuart - Born January 30, 1910. Died October 12, 1961. Hannah Mae Stuart - Born November 12, 1914. Died October 12, 1961. Husband and wife died the same day. Probably an accident. What had they done in life? The white sentinels remained silent.

Before I left the rows and returned to my car, several more caught my eye. Rachel McCarty -- Beloved Daughter. Born September 4, 1985. Died September 4, 1985. Nearby, another marker. Maria was 17 when she died. Along another row, I read Staci’s epitaph. She lived 22 years. Near hers, Antonio was 38. Thomas, 12. Marcus, 41.

As I returned to my car I remembered some things I’ve read in the book of Ecclesiastes. King Solomon had it all -- money, power, prestige, things I, and others like me, think so important. And he used them to satisfy every whim that tantalized his flesh and thoughts. “I denied myself nothing my eyes desired,” he wrote in chapter 2. “I refused my heart no pleasure.” For years, possibly decades, Solomon fed his lust for bigger-better-more. Not until he neared the end of his life did he recognize the true worth of money, power and prestige. He called them, "Vanity of vanities." We might call them, “worthless.”

To his credit, Solomon awoke to the truth about his treasures before it was too late. Before his body returned to dust (Ecclesiastes 12:7) he discovered the bankruptcy of bigger and better. At last, he understood what gives life eternal meaning and wrote: “Here is the conclusion of the matter: Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment . . . whether it is good or evil” (v. 13-14).

The human condition hasn’t changed much across time. Centuries before Solomon awakened to truth, Moses wrote: ”Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom” (Psalm 90:12). And centuries after Solomon, the St. James warned: “You do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes” (James 4:14). Even today, it doesn’t require a degree in rocket science to know life can end in an instant. And although a person lives 90 years, he will probably tell you life seems like a brief shadow.

Graveyards might not be the best spot for a party, but I don’t think a better place exists where we can receive such a critically important education. Nothing speaks about life and death so eloquently in their silence as row after row of headstones. And nothing speaks about eternity beyond the grave more powerfully than the words of Jesus Christ, who said: "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die" (John 11:25,26).

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 8:20 PM 0 comments

Saturday, April 08, 2006
Good(?) Friday

This was not simply disappointment. It was gut-wrenching tragedy. What could be “good” about it? Their hopes, like precious china, lay shattered. Their dreams were nailed with Him to a splintered wooden cross. Glancing over their shoulders in fear with each step, the disciples wondered who among them would be next. For those who loved Him, darkness smothered Friday like a damp woolen blanket.

And what was that Friday like for Christ?

It began with flogging. Roman soldiers fashioned a leather whip, studded with small rocks and bone. Every blow against Jesus’ back ripped open new strips of skin. His muscles and tendons quickly turned into a mass of quivering, bleeding flesh. Most prisoners died of shock and blood loss long before being nailed to the cross.

After the beating, Jesus dragged his cross to the execution site where soldiers laid it the ground and threw Him down onto it. The seven-inch spikes hammered through His wrists and feet tore through exquisitely sensitive nerves. Electrifying pain exploded along His arms and legs.


As He hung between heaven and earth, breathing became an all-consuming struggle as gravity restricted His respiratory muscles. Moment by moment, Jesus had to push against his feet and flex His arms just to breathe. But every movement only intensified the strain on His ravaged nerves. Adding to His torment, each breath forced His back against the splintered wood, reopening the raw wounds. Every breath, every movement, every moment on the cross only inflamed His anguish.

For Jesus, for the disciples, for anyone standing at the foot of the cross, Good Friday seemed anything but good.

What, then, is so good about that Friday nearly 2000 years ago?

That Friday proved God’s faithfulness. As early as Genesis 3:15, the Lord promised the human family a redeemer, someone to set us free from the Serpent’s grasp, someone to take “captivity captive” to Himself. On that Friday, Satan bruised God’s heel. More importantly, through Christ, God crushed Satan’s head. The Serpent forever lost the right to enslave anyone in his devilish grasp. His power is nullified by the blood of Christ (Revelation 12:11).

That Friday tore through sin’s impenetrable barrier between us and God. As Isaiah wrote, “Your iniquities have made a separation between you and your God and your sins have hid His face from you, so that He does not hear” (59:2). But that Friday, God shattered the barrier. He rescued the prisoners. Laying our sins upon Christ’s shoulders (Isaiah 53:5,6), the Father threw open the gates of reconciliation between us and Himself (2 Corinthians 5:19).

That Friday proved God’s love for us. It is easy to read quickly over John 3:16 and not sense the searing emotions the Father suffered as He watched His Son agonize on Calvary. But when we meditate on the Roman scourging, the spikes in His limbs, the flesh wounds -- perhaps we can better understand the personal nature of that verse -- “God so loved me . . that He gave.”

That Friday clothed us with Christ’s righteousness. The harlot, the thief, the murderer, the adulterer . . . think of it! There is no sin which cannot be cleansed by Christ’s blood through repentance. There is no sinner who cannot be made as righteous before God’s eyes as Jesus Himself (2 Corinthians 5:21).

Finally -- if there can be a final point about Good Friday -- that Friday challenges us to repentance. When the crowd gathered in Jerusalem learned that it was their sins which nailed Christ to the cross, “they were pieced to the heart.” In unison they cried aloud, ‘Brethren, what shall we do?” St. Peter responded, “Repent,” and three thousand among them were born-again (Acts 2:22-41, John 3:3).

Standing at the foot of Christ’s cross, nothing about Friday looked good. But no one knew Resurrection Sunday was coming . . . and with it, God’s redemptive plan which He conceived before the foundation of planet earth.

Good Friday?

What do you think?

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 8:47 AM 1 comments

Thursday, April 06, 2006
Coming Out of the Closet

I've suspected it for a long time. Years, actually. I'm not all I seem to be. It's time to come out of the closet and tell you why I want an alternative lifestyle.

One evening, after a particularly stressful day, I snapped at my wife moments after I walked through the door. I can't tell you what set me off, but it was so inconsequential that, within hours, it had slipped into the corner of my subconscious and was quickly buried under layers of other superfluous data. I barked at her several more times that evening before - mercifully for her - I went to bed.

I don't know why she didn't tell me to sleep on the couch.

That's just one example. Then there was the time I delayed at a stop light longer than the driver behind me thought necessary. He tapped his horn to catch my attention.

Well, he caught it. Before I knew what happened, my blood pressure exploded through the sunroof of my Chevy. I caught the driver's eyes in my rearview mirror, flailed my arms and growled a string of epithets I was later glad he didn't hear.

For years, I've thought of myself as an even-tempered, slow-to-anger kind of guy. I've managed to convince others of that, as well. Friends, strangers and acquaintances think I am a model Christian. I usually acknowledge to God, at least in passing, my all-too-frequent faults, failures and flares. And I like to believe I am quick to repent when the Holy Spirit presses in on me for snarling at others or otherwise acting like a jerk. But those who *live* with me -- my wife and children -- know the angry words better than anyone. They know the bouts of pouting, sarcasm, and my penchant to nurse a grudge.

Yet, they don't know me as God does. He knows my most secret thoughts. He sees every act before I commit it and hears every word before it crosses my mind (Psalm 139). And that scares me -- as it very well ought to.

Well, I'm tired of doing what I shouldn't, and not doing what I should. I can't imagine the Lord Jesus flaring because He had a hard day at the office or because someone tapped the horn behind him.

I want to live an alternative lifestyle . . . not only because my temper is a lousy testimony, but it's impossible to be fruitful for Christ -- especially among those who know me best -- when my walk doesn't match my talk.

The apostle John provides an example to living an alternative lifestyle. People knew him as "Son of Thunder" before he met Christ (Mark 3:17). I doubt he earned that moniker because of his serene character. But by the end of his life people knew him as the apostle of love. The one who wanted fire from heaven to consume a city (Luke 9:54) yearned at the end of his life for the Holy Spirit to consume men and women with God's grace and mercy.

But that transformation didn't occur overnight. John penned his epistles more than fifty years after the Lord's resurrection. Those letters radiate with God's love because fifty years of tests, failures, successes and spiritual growth molded him into the man God created him to be. Which is the man I need to be.

"This is the confidence we have in approaching God," John encouraged his readers. "If we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us--whatever we ask--we know that we have what we asked of him" (1 John 5: 14,15).

I can't prove it from any Biblical text, but among the many prayers he offered to God, a portion of Psalm 19 might have been his most frequent and heartfelt: "May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer" (Psalm 19:14).

Seasons blur into years and opportunities to make a difference slip too quickly into memories. I don't want to wait fifty years, or even five, before my words and actions -- all of them -- reflect the alternative lifestyle I long for. That's why I've begun praying each day for a change of heart -- a persistent pleading that my thoughts, words and acts will honor Him.

There's no better alternative.

End
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 5:53 PM 2 comments

Saturday, April 01, 2006
If I thought My Speeding Vow Was Hard . . .

In all my grousing about Lenten vows and speed limits, I neglected to mention Nancy’s vow. I neglected it mostly because I didn’t think her promise to stop complaining was a big deal. I never noticed how often she found fault with people and circumstances. I was usually too busy, uh, complaining about my own problems, like how I was going to live without strutting my masculinity on the highway, passing the guy in front of me simply because, well, because he was in front of me.

And then things took another turn. This morning during my time with the Lord, I absorbed myself in a prayer first offered by St. John Baptist de La Salle. The words that stayed with me are these:

Grant that I may always speak and act kindly to all.

After finishing La Salle’s prayer, my gaze fell on one of St. Augustine's:

Breathe in me, Holy Spirit, that all my thoughts may be holy. Act in me, Holy Spirit, that my work, too, may be holy.

That’s when I recognized the turn.

As soon as I offered their prayers as my own, my mind raced to a text I'd memorized a long time ago. It's from St. Paul’s letter to the Philippians:

Do all things without grumbling or disputing; so that you will prove yourselves to be blameless and innocent, children of God above reproach in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you appear as lights in the world . . .

Then, with staccato-like speed, another text from the same letter broke into my thoughts: Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things. . . . and the God of peace will be with you.

By now, even I could see where the Holy Spirit was dragging me. Here we are, only 32 days into Lent, and already He's letting me know my obedience in the car is a good start. But there is more.

Not only do I need to stop pressing the accelerator, I need to stop complaining.

Like I’m complaining now.

This is proving to be a very long Lenten season.


rich

posted by rich 9:46 AM 0 comments

Tuesday, March 28, 2006
I still ain't cheerful

Don’t let anyone tell you obedience gets easier the longer you do it. Here it is, twenty-eight days after my Lenten vow, and I nearly break into a sweat when I slide behind the wheel to drive somewhere.

Okay, so that’s hyperbole. My palms don’t get moist. And no, it’s really not as difficult today as it was four weeks ago to obey the posted speed limit.

But I want to share with you what Nancy reminded me of the other day while she sat next to me in the car. It’s a text in Matthew, an analogy to life in general and, (in my mind, anyway) keeping my vow in particular.

“Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for the way is wide and broad that leads to destruction, and many there are who find it. But the gate is straight and the way narrow that leads to eternal life, and few there are that find it.” (For you Bible mavens out there, I know this is not an exact quote. I don’t have my Bible open in front of me, and I’m too lazy to log onto Biblegateway.com to find the text in Matthew 7. Anyway, it’s not a direct quote, but you get the picture).

So, the point is, it’s easy to follow the crowd, go along with the majority, race along life’s highway with everyone else, always looking in our rearview mirror for a cop.

It’s harder to take the narrow road of obedience, especially when you’re there almost by yourself.

Please, please, don’t misunderstand me. I don’t think I am anyone special for doing what I’m doing. St. Paul said, God loves a cheerful giver. Well, I ain’t cheerful, driving in the far right lane.

But my Lenten vow is teaching me a lot about myself – mostly how much lip service I give to God’s will and His word. And, in a way, I am glad for the opportunity to practice what I’ve been preaching these many years.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 8:53 PM 0 comments

Sunday, March 26, 2006
So Glad To Be There

My wife and I teach Faith Formation – or CCD -- for 6th graders in our church. Some call it Sunday school.

Anyway, we had a visitor in class today, a young girl brought by her friend. It was a God-ordained visit.

With Holy Week rapidly approaching, Nancy and I deviated a little from the class workbooks and focused on the events leading to the crucifixion and resurrection of the Savior. I mapped out sections of the 14th and 15th chapters of St Mark’s gospel and asked several children to the front of the class to read the Scriptures. The reading took about twenty-five, maybe thirty minutes. I was surprised all of the kids were quiet for the entire time.

When we finished, I rehearsed what they’d just heard and focused on Good Friday, painting as vividly as I could a word-picture of what Jesus suffered for us . . . and more importantly, why He suffered for us.

I don’t think our young visitor had ever heard the story.

"Why did Jesus die?" She wanted to know. “Why did they stick the spear into His side if He was already dead? Was He really dead when they buried Him in the tomb?”

I sensed a holy hush come over me. The Spirit of God had given me an opportunity to explain to this visiting 12-year-old girl, and to the rest of the class once again, the wonderful story of Jesus.

I walked toward her desk and said God loved her so much that He gave His only Son to die for her. I told her, "Because our sins will result in our eternal separation from God -- our eternal spiritual death -- Jesus gave His life as a sacrifice for us. He was pierced -- for our transgressions. He was bruised -- for our iniquities. The punishment our sins deserved were laid upon Him."

I told her all of us have turned to our own way. All of us. Even I and Mrs. Maffeo. But on Good Friday, the Lord God laid on Jesus all of our sins.

I told her if she was sorry for her sins and asked God for forgiveness, she would be forgiven, and God would give her eternal life.

And that's why Jesus died for us.

Her eyes locked with mine, and understanding feathered across her face.

Only a few times this year have I recognized that look. But when I see it, I remember why Nancy and I prepare lesson plans and stand in front of 20 twelve-year-olds each Sunday.

And I am so very grateful to be there.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:30 PM 2 comments

Wednesday, March 22, 2006
No Other Address

It came back to me twice. The first time, I only glanced at the address, thinking my email provider's network was acting up again - as it does occasionally. But when my message returned the second time to my in-box, I looked more closely at the address. Then I saw my mistake: I had accidentally added a letter to the addressee's name.

Unlike regular mail delivered by the Postal Service, an electronic-mail address demands perfection. Mail carriers have correctly delivered mail to my house despite multiple misspellings on the envelope. I have even received my mail when it was addressed to the incorrect house number. Electronic mail, however, is a different story. One letter out of place, one character missing, and you might as well not bother to send it. Your letter is not going anywhere but into the great cyberspace-boomerang.

The analogy is not perfect, but when it comes to the subject of eternal salvation, many people presume God is more like a friendly mail carrier than an inflexible email provider. They believe it doesn't matter how the mail is addressed: Jesus, Allah, Buddha, the Good Fairy. All roads lead to heaven -- or so the argument goes. As long as our intentions are good, the celestial delivery service will get us where we want to go.

They couldn't be more wrong. God accepts only one address for eternal life. He has determined only one Savior, one Bridge between us and God, one Door between heaven
and earth.

The Jewish Prophets caught just a glimpse of Him. Isaiah said He shall be called, " . . . Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace'" (Isaiah 9:6). The prophet Daniel added, "And to Him was given (an everlasting) dominion . . . that all the peoples . . . might serve Him" (Daniel 7:14). But it was not until half a millennium after Daniel's death that the Savior's identity was fully revealed.

St. Peter told those gathered in Jerusalem that heaven's only acceptable address is spelled JESUS CHRIST (Acts 4:12). The St. Paul wrote, "At the name of Jesus, every knee should bow . . . and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord" (Philippians 2:10-11). Jesus Himself said, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father, but through me (John 14:6).

Sometimes I am frustrated when the cyber-postmaster rejects my email. The idea that I could have made a mistake hardly crosses my mind. It's easier to place blame on the email provider, and more than once I have muttered aloud that if they can't be more efficient, I'll take my business elsewhere. Truth is, however, I don't need another email provider. I just need to follow the rules when I address my mail. Nothing short of perfection will work.

God's rule about eternal life is equally rigid. He requires nothing short of perfection in our "address." There is no savior but Jesus. No forgiveness of sins except through Jesus. No access to heaven apart from Jesus. Anything added to His rule, anything taken away, will only result in our rejection. And there is no in-box available for a second chance.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 5:35 PM 0 comments

Friday, March 17, 2006
My Lenten Vow Update

So, here it is, sixteen days after Ash Wednesday, the day I made my Lenten vow. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, scroll down to my March 2 post.

While I won’t say it’s been easy putting my Chevy on cruise control to keep my speed within the posted limits, it hasn’t been all that onerous, either.

Well, to be honest, in the beginning it was.

And, well, uhhh . . .yes, as recently as yesterday afternoon, on my way home from work, I was tempted almost beyond endurance to push the accelerator to 55 in the 50.

But let me share with you an important lesson I’ve learned since I made my Lenten promise. I discovered one of the reasons I like to speed is to demonstrate -- sometimes unconsciously, sometimes, consciously -- my masculinity. My power. Strength.

Ladies, it’s a guy thing.

When I crawled up behind a car doing 70 in a 60 -- and I was reasonably sure there weren’t any cops nearby -- I pulled into the fast lane and punched the accelerator to 75, just so I could be out in front.

In city traffic, when a hundred cars around me jockeyed with each other for position, there I was, in the middle of the fray, asserting my manhood.

So, what have I learned? It takes an enormous amount of strength -- strength of will -- to keep my foot off the accelerator when it would be oh-so-very-easy to push it to the floorboard.

When I look in my rearview mirror and see half a dozen cars lined up behind me on a two lane, I am forced to exercise -- and I mean exercise -- self-restraint, pull off to the side of the road, slow down and let them pass.

It would be much easier to let my testosterone run rampant and show them my dust.

But, I'm convinced that’s not the kind of strength the Lord Jesus wants men to exhibit. After all, anyone can push a pedal to the floor.

Trust me. It's much harder to obey.

Proverbs 16:32 says it pretty well: “He who is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he who rules his spirit, than he who captures a city.”

I already know my Lenten vow will not end with Easter. And to be honest, after grappling with what I’ve recently learned about strength, I don’t want it to end there.

God has brought me into His Gym of Christian Growth so I can strengthen my spiritual muscles -- to exhibit true masculinity, to become the man He created me to become.

If it takes doing 40 in a 40, I will -- with God’s help -- make that a lifelong exercise regimen.

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:20 AM 0 comments

Friday, March 10, 2006
Numbering our Days

I have to give you some background before I tell you what happened today.

I’m nearly 56 years old. I jog three miles, three or four times a week. On non-run days, I lift weights. Sundays -- well, Sundays I nap on the couch after Nancy and I return from morning Mass.

So here I was today, about an hour after showering away the effects of my lunchtime run, and I’m walking up the stairs from the second floor of the hospital to the sixth. By the time I got to the fourth floor landing, my legs felt like lead. I almost heard them gasp: ELEVATOR!

I told them to hush, and continue climbing.

A moment later, down the stairs trots this bouncy young lady -- all of 20, I suppose. Her broad smile weakened to an unsure grin when she saw me. By this point I was holding onto the rails on either side and, literally, pulling myself up each step.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I heard in her tone the same concern I have for elderly people who look as if they need to sit down.

“I’m . . . fine," I managed to say between breaths. "Thanks.”

I didn’t think I could say anything more.

“You sure?” She stopped bouncing and stood next to me.

I thought to tell her I’m in great shape. I jog three miles . . . yada, yada. But then thought better of it. Somehow, I don't think she'd be convinced.

She gave me one more cautious glance when I nodded, and then continued on her way. I toughed out the next two flights -- grateful to finally reach the sixth floor.

I thought about the incident later as I drove home. It seems like only yesterday that I was the one bouncing down stairs, or striding along the sidewalk, or sweating through a fast-paced five-mile run . . . .

There’s good reason the Holy Spirit urges us to “number our days, that we may apply our hearts to wisdom” (Psalm 90:12).

Life really is short. Before we realize it, we are the elderly man or woman we once tried to help.

When that day arrives, I don’t think any of us who call ourselves children of God will care how much money we've earned, or how many awards we've won. What we will want to know -- at least, what I will want to know -- is, have I done all I could do with what I had for Jesus?

Lord, while we have time, teach us to number our days.

Amen

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 5:30 PM 0 comments

Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Man, in his pomp

On March 4, 1966, London's "Evening Standard" newspaper published an interview with Beatle John Lennon in which he remarked: 'Christianity will... vanish and shrink... We're more popular than Jesus Christ right now.'

Lennon, like so many others in the last 2000 years ignored (probably never knew) what the Lord of Creation said long before the popular singer was born: "Man in his pomp, yet without understanding, is like the beasts that perish" (Psalm 49:20).

Lennon said aloud what many -- perhaps even some in the pew each Sunday -- think silently: "My kingdom come -- not Thine; My will be done -- not Thine."

But, if we stop long enough to really think about the utter majesty and ineffable spendor of God Almighty, if we actually meditate on what we say at each Mass -- Lord I am not worthy to receive You; Only say the word, and I shall be healed -- those words can settle deep within our spirits and ultimately give birth to a humility we have not yet known.

May it be so, Lord Jesus. Amen.


rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:05 PM 0 comments

Monday, March 06, 2006
Oh, The Depths . . .

A few days ago, during my morning time with the Lord, I read the 21st chapter of St. John’s gospel. I'll paste the important section here (verses 15-17), and include the Greek words in parenthesis used in this passage for “love”:

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon, son of John, do you love (agapao) me more than these?" He said to him, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love (phileo) you." He said to him, "Feed my lambs."

He then said to him a second time, "Simon, son of John, do you love (agapao) me?" He said to him, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love (phileo) you." He said to him, "Tend my sheep."

He said to him the third time, "Simon, son of John, do you love (phileo) me?" Peter was distressed that he had said to him a third time, "Do you love (phileo) me?" and he said to him, "Lord, you know everything; you know that I love (phileo) you." (Jesus) said to him, "Feed my sheep.”

The New Testament uses two words for “love.”

The first word is phileo (pronounced, fil-eh-oh, accent on the middle syllable). It carries the idea of tender affection (Philadelphia -- the city of Brotherly Love -- is derived from that Greek word).

The second word, agape (pronounced, ah-gah-pay, accent on the middle syllable), is used to describe God's love -- the kind of love He commands us to have for Him and for others.

As I meditated on the passage, I wondered why Peter responded to Christ’s “agape” with “phileo.”

A modern version of the conversation might have sounded something like this:

“Peter, do you really, really love me?”

“Lord, I like you a lot.”

“Feed My lambs.”

“Peter, do you really, really love me?”

“Lord, I like you a lot.”

“Tend My sheep.”

“Peter, do you like me a lot?”

“Yes, Lord, I like you a lot.”

“Feed My sheep.”

Two things here caught my attention.

First, I think Peter must have felt miserable. And well he should have. Three times he’d denied he knew the Lord. Nevertheless, the Lord Jesus tried to help Peter move beyond that. When the fisherman wouldn't say he “really, really” loved Jesus, the Lord came down to his level: “Okay, my friend. Do you really like Me?”

How like Christ to be so gentle to our wounded spirits.

Second, I noticed the Lord’s charge to Peter after each agape/phileo exchange was essentially the same: “Feed My sheep.”

In other words, “Peter, I know you feel guilty. But you’ve repented and our relationship is restored. Your sin is forgotten. Your continued sorrow is unnecessary. Don’t let it keep you from your task. Feed My sheep. Tend to My flock."

How like the merciful Christ to call us out of our sorrow. How like Him to renew our relationship -- vessels of clay as we are -- and set us about the work He’s called us to.

I need that gentleness and mercy. And I imagine you can use a dose of it yourself from time to time.

When we feel unable to tell Him, “I really, really love You,” the Savior tells us it’s okay if we just like Him a lot. When our sorrow seems to overwhelm us, the Shepherd tells us, "I love (agape) you."

“Oh, the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and unfathomable His ways!” (Romans 11:33)

The penitant's sins are forgiven. Forgotten. Washed in the Blood of the Lamb.

Now, let's get about doing His work.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:32 PM 0 comments

Saturday, March 04, 2006
Pete's Right . . .

I received a note yesterday from Pete, a friend of mine back east. He wrote it in reference to my Ash Wednesday post. Basically, this is what he said:

“OK, so you're slowing down on the freeway and around town. Good. But are you slowing down in other aspects of your life, too? I know work gets busy and free time gets crammed with 'stuff,' and our lives get too full to contemplate what is really important . . . like time with God.

“At RCIA (a Catholic doctrine class for adults) the other night we talked about Lent and people mentioned 'giving up the morning coffee'.

“I said, ‘Did you ever think of giving up the last hour of TV or whatever you do in the evening and getting more sleep so that you wouldn't NEED the coffee in the morning?’

“While Lent is a season of penance, it is also a season to reform ourselves.”

Sheeesh. C’mon, Pete. It’s hard enough doing 35 in a 35 (I’ve already had to pull over to the side of the road a couple of times to let a line of cars behind me pass. How embarrassing . . . )

But now you remind me it’s important to God that I work further to reform myself? This is turning into a difficult Lenten season -- and it’s only the third day.

But . . . truth is, Pete's right. Lent is not so much a time to deny ourselves as it is a time to discover areas of our lives needing reformation. As St. Paul wrote,

"Therefore if you have been raised up with Christ, keep seeking the things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your mind on the things above, not on the things that are on earth. For you have died and your life is hidden with Christ in God." (Colossians 3:1-3)

That's what this season is all about . . . reviving in us a desire to seek Christ. And Christ always demands we count the cost before we carry our cross.

Thanks, Pete.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 8:49 PM 0 comments

Thursday, March 02, 2006
I'm Upset with my wife

I really am . . . upset with her.

And once I explain what she did, I know I will have your sympathy.

I'd been grousing about having to give up something for Lent. Like chocolate. I couldn't imagine forty days without it. And besides, what purpose would giving up chocolate serve, anyway? Would it change me? Not likely, although giving it up would probably help me take off some extra weight.

So, on our way home from Mass last evening, ashes still clinging to our foreheads and I in the middle of my chocolate lament, Nancy asked, "Why don't you ask God what you should give up?"

Yeah, I thought. I bet He won't take away my chocolate.

But within moments of her question, I began to feel uncomfortable. VERY uncomfortable. I already had an inkling about what He wanted me to give up. When we arrived home, I stuck a Star Trek DS9 DVD into the player so I wouldn't hear that "still, small voice" I've grown accustomed to hearing.

When I readied myself later for bed and slipped under the covers, I said, "Lord, can we talk about this in the morning? I'm really tired . . . "

I knew I was putting off the inevitable. I knew if I want to continue growing in my faith and relationship with our heavenly Father, I had to come to grips with His answer to my prayer.

This morning, when I settled into my prayer routine . . . I gave up. "Okay, Lord. What is it you want to tell me?"

I sensed His answer before I finished the question. He wanted me to give up speeding.

No, I don't race along the highway at 80 in a 60 zone. I usually nudge 65, maybe 70 if I'm reasonably sure there aren't any state patrols around.

But God wants me to do 60 in a 60, 50 in a 50; Yes, even 30 in a 30 zone.

Oh, I wish He had told me to give up chocolate.

I can't imagine how I will ever be able to keep to those nutty rules of the highway. I don't know when I have EVER kept within the posted speed limits -- unless, of course, I saw a cop close by.

So, you see why I blame Nancy for my fate?

I'll let you know how I fare during the next forty -- uh, thirty-nine days.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 5:09 PM 0 comments

Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Visitor, or Lord?

The last thing I wanted to hear that morning was the doorbell. But there it was, demanding my attention. I broke away from the keyboard and went to the door.

“Good morning,” the young man said from behind a broad and plastic smile. “I’m visiting people in this area to offer a new and exclusive . . . . “

I don’t remember what he was trying to sell me. I only remember trying to hide my annoyance behind an equally plastic smile. As he continued his sales pitch, my mind raced back to my computer where I had been madly tapping out one of several reports due that week. I listened politely until he paused to breathe, at which point I told him I was not interested, closed the door and returned to my keyboard.

Like most people, I am particular about whom I invite into my home. Some, like the salesman, don’t usually get beyond the front door. Others, like delivery people, get as far as the foyer while I sign for a delivery. Friends, on the other hand, get invited into the living room. They even have access to my refrigerator. They want a sandwich? They can make it themselves. However, the circle becomes quite small when I consider how many people have permission to roam my house at will or to look through my clothes closets and drawers.

The circle closes at the checkbook. No friend has access to that.

I hate to admit it, but sometimes I treat Jesus the same way I treat those who come to my door. There are times when I frantically tap-tap-tap on my life’s keyboard, grinding and squealing toward the completion of something I think is of historic importance -- when the doorbell rings. And there is Jesus, standing outside my heart, saying something about quietness and peace. But I am so preoccupied with returning to my “busy-ness” that I don’t listen. And so, with a polite smile I close the door, leaving Him outside.

Then there are times when I permit Him as far as the foyer . . . especially when He brings with Him the answer to a particular prayer request. He stands politely at the entryway while I sign the receipt before sending Him on His way (thanking Him, of course).

At other times He gets as far as the living room where we chit-chat for a while. I tell Him how much a friend He is and, oh, by the way, Lord, I sure would appreciate if You would do this and that and the other thing for me. He, on the other hand, attempts to move our conversation toward awkward subjects such as attitudes, philosophies and desires. During those times I usually change the subject: “What was that, Jesus? You’d like a sandwich? Sure, help yourself.”

How often do I permit the Lord Jesus to have Lordship over my “entire” heart? How often do I permit Him full access to the closets and drawers in my life where lay hidden a multitude of sins, rebellions, self-justifications and deceptions? When do I permit Him complete Lordship over my checkbook and finances? Am I too often content to give Him only the tithe when He deserves it all?

I am often afraid to answer those questions.

Someone has said: If Jesus is not Lord of everything, then He is not Lord at all.
Door-to-door sales people, delivery people and friends have much to teach me about my relationship with Christ. Eternally more than a salesperson standing outside the house, or a delivery man waiting in the foyer, or a friend sitting in my living room, I want Jesus to truly be -- Lord of all.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:08 AM 0 comments

Friday, February 17, 2006
The Sacred, the Mystery and Wonder

Speaking before the Assembly of the Synod of Bishops for America in September 1996, Pope John Paul II said, “The increasing religious indifference leads to the loss of the sense of God and of His holiness, which, in turn, is translated into a loss of a sense of the sacred, of mystery and of the capacity for wonder . . . .”

I’m always in danger of choosing a path of least resistance, of turning aside to the left or right, of traveling the broad way instead of the narrow.

Perhaps that’s what happened to me before I found myself drawn into the Catholic Church. I’d lost the sense of the sacred. I’d lost sight of the mystery of God.

I’d had it before, and I wanted it again.

I’d been doing all the right things: obedient in reading my Bible, dependable in prayer, dutiful in sharing my faith. But I wonder if that had become part of my problem: Obedient. Dependable. Dutiful. All good, and right, and useful -- but without the sense of the Holy, the Sacred, the Ineffable, they devolved over the years sometimes into little more than patterns of religion.

I didn’t realize I’d become indifferent to the Holy, and had substituted those good and right and useful virtues for awe and reverence. That’s why I used to walk into the sanctuary on Sunday mornings chatting with friends instead of quieting myself before the Holy One. That’s why I slid into the pew and leafed through the bulletin instead of bowing my knee in prayer. That’s why I so often gave thanks over my food, focused on it, rather than on God.

I longed for a sense of His holiness. I longed -- and still long -- to know Him, and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His suffering.

Being drawn to the sacred is not the broad way. It’s the very narrow one. It’s the path of the Cross, of loving the Father even more than I love myself, of seeking His will before my own.

I found in the Catholic Church what I needed to help me again find the sacred. I find Christ in the liturgies, the prayers, the Sacraments. Yes, they too can become rote and meaningless. I’ve seen it happen to others. I know it can happen to me.

Which is why I ask you for prayer . . . that God’s grace continues to flow into my spirit, keeping me ever mindful of His unspeakable greatness, worthiness, and power, that I walk in a manner worthy of my calling -- in humility, deference and love.

And that I not forget the sacred, mystery and wonder.

rich

posted by rich 6:37 PM 0 comments

Sunday, February 12, 2006
That We Might Truly Be One

On this day in 1962, Swiss Reformed theologian Karl Barth predicted in a letter:
'The day will come when we shall no longer speak of Roman Catholic and Protestant Christians but simply of Evangelical Christians forming one body and one people.'
-----------

I wonder if he read and prayed -- as I often do -- Daniel's prayer in the ninth chapter of his prophecy. Here is part of it (I like to use the word Church for Israel, Jerusalem, the Temple, etc):

Ah, Lord, great and awesome God, you who keep your merciful covenant toward those who love you and observe your commandments!

We have sinned, been wicked and done evil; we have rebelled and departed from your commandments and your laws. We have not obeyed your servants the prophets, who spoke in your name to our kings, our princes, our fathers, and all the people of the land.

O LORD, we are shamefaced, like our kings, our princes, and our fathers, for having sinned against you. But yours, O Lord, our God, are compassion and forgiveness! Yet we rebelled against you and paid no heed to your command, O LORD, our God, to live by the law you gave us through your servants the prophets.

Because all Israel transgressed your law and went astray, not heeding your voice, the sworn malediction, recorded in the law of Moses, the servant of God, was poured out over us for our sins.

Now, O Lord, our God, who led your people out of the land of Egypt with a strong hand, and made a name for yourself even to this day, we have sinned, we are guilty.

O Lord, in keeping with all your just deeds, let your anger and your wrath be turned away from your city Jerusalem, your holy mountain. On account of our sins and the crimes of our fathers, Jerusalem and your people have become the reproach of all our neighbors.

Hear, therefore, O God, the prayer and petition of your servant; and for your own sake, O Lord, let your face shine upon your desolate sanctuary.

Give ear, O my God, and listen; open your eyes and see our ruins and the city which bears your name. When we present our petition before you, we rely not on our just deeds, but on your great mercy.

O Lord, hear! O Lord, pardon! O Lord, be attentive and act without delay, for your own sake, O my God, because this city and your people bear your name!--------------

Lord Jesus, on the night Judas betrayed you, you prayed for the Church, your Body, that we would be one. Holy Spirit, make us one. Amen

posted by rich 8:50 AM 0 comments

Sunday, February 05, 2006
Dirty Faces, Eternal Life

It was only a casual glance at the mirror as I walked passed -- a moment when my eye stole a glimpse at my reflection. But what a moment it was! Nature itself stopped, turned in my direction and waited for my response to that. . . that little white and grey thing hanging from my left nostril. "Oh, No! Who's seen me like this!" I wanted to crawl under the nearest rock.

I yanked a handkerchief from my pocket and attacked my nose. I cocked and twisted my head, making sure I had removed every last trace of that horrible blight. Then the knot in my stomach tightened. How long had I been walking around totally ignorant of my horrible plight? When did I last blow my nose? Just before I left the house? Three hours ago!

I stuffed the handkerchief back into my pocket and hurried off, wondering why no one had told me. Surely they had seen it. Anyone looking in my direction from Australia could have seen it!

But the more I thought about it, the more I understood why they remained silent. They were almost as embarrassed to mention it as I was to discover it. They probably thought, "maybe he'll scratch his nose and discover it without my having to bring up the subject." Or, "maybe someone else will tell him."

How do I know that's what they probably thought? Because I also have made those same dumb excuses when I've looked at someone's face and wondered "how do I tell him about his dirty nose?"

Well, believe it or not, there is a spiritual point in all this, because in dealing with my own embarrassment I learned two important things about dirty faces -- and eternal life.

First, mirrors are very important. Had I not seen my reflection in the mirror, I might have continued through the rest of the day with that thing dangling on my nose. However, that common looking glass reminds me of another mirror -- the Bible. "For the word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword . . . and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart" (Hebrews 4:12). When I first read the pages of God's "mirror" a much more serious blemish caught my eye. Like the piece of mucous stuck to the end of my nose, this cursed spot (God calls it sin) clung stubbornly to my life. Trust me, discovering that blight was not one of my favorite moments. But it could certainly have been much worse. If it had not been for His mirror, my spiritual nose-slime would still be stuck to me, uncleaned and - worst of all - unforgiven. The embarrassment of discovering that thing dangling from my nose cannot compare to the shame I would have eventually experienced when I stood unclean before the Lord.

Which brings me to the second point: Walking around all morning with a dirty nose is not the worst thing that will ever happen to someone. But dying uncleansed from sin definitely is.

Yes, I wished someone had told me my nose was dirty, but I am forever thankful someone told me my life was dirty. I am grateful that person pointed me to God's word where I learned not only of sin's stain on my life, but also of Christ's blood which can cleanse me.

My dirty nose reminded me again how badly people need someone willing to risk embarrassment and tell them, kindly and with humility, their lives are dirty. They need someone - like you and like me - to tell them they need a savior.

After all, If we don't tell them about Jesus Christ, who will?

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 7:47 PM 0 comments

Friday, January 27, 2006
The Wrong Question

Why do bad things happen to God's children? Why do they experience loneliness, heartache and serious illness? I've mused over the questions for decades, read books examining them, pored over the Scriptures in my search for satisfactory answers. After all this time, I've concluded I've been asking the wrong questions.

Scripture provides many examples of God's servants who suffered personal loss. Naomi, David, Paul and Peter are only a few. And we can't forget Job. The Holy Spirit devoted an entire book to his trials.

Job enjoyed a harvest of blessing: wife, children, nice home and prosperous business. Most important, he received God's approval (1:8).

And then devastation struck. In one overwhelming swoop of destruction, he lost his children, his wealth and then his health. Little wonder why most who read the story understand Job's lament, "Why did I not die at birth, come froth from the womb and expire?" (3:11). Few ever experience the horror that ripped at Job's soul.

His friends accused him of hidden sin. Why else would God send devastation his way? But anyone who has read that Biblical book knows Job's troubles had nothing to do with sin. Rather, his experience demonstrated his relationship with God was not rooted in wealth, health, or any earthly blessing. It was inextricably tied to something much deeper: his love for God. That's why, even when faced with death, Job proclaimed, "Though He slay me, I will trust in Him."

Throughout Scripture, God's servants carried the same banner of love for God against the gates of hell. The prophet Habakkuk, faced with deep personal grief, wrote, "Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my Savior" (Hab 3:17-18). In the New Testament era, Paul wrote from a rat-infested Roman dungeon, "Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!" (Philippians 4:4). Nor should we forget the unnamed servants of God cited in Hebrew 11 who suffered great misery, yet died with God's praises on their lips.

Why do bad things happen to God's children? Job, Habakkuk and the others never fully understood the "whys" of their circumstances. They didn't need to. They only needed to know God loved them and had not forsaken them. And their confidence in God caused me to wonder if I'd been looking for answers to the wrong questions. Instead of asking why, I began asking how -- how we might best serve Him, even through heartache.

Calvary and the empty tomb assure us our Father in heaven is well aware of our needs. Our Lord, who delivered His own Son that we might live, is always intimately touched with our heartaches and orchestrates every situation for our good (Romans 8:28).

I don't expect, this side of eternity, to fully understand why bad things happen to God's children. I doubt I will fully know why His children endure heartache and loss. But of this one thing I am certain: If others trusted God to always do right, even when things seemed so wrong, then with His help, I can do the same.

And so can you.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:22 AM 0 comments

Saturday, January 21, 2006
Circling the Block

Some insist it's genetic. They might be right. How else can we explain why otherwise rational men spend a half-hour driving in circles instead of pulling into a gas station to ask directions? Ok, so not all guys are this stubborn, but enough are to prove the rule.

My friend, Steve, is an example. He and his wife, Rhonda, made plans to drive to a family reunion 150 miles down the road.

"Should take us about three hours to get there," he told her.

"Maybe we ought to leave a little earlier," she cautioned. "We don't know how to get there, do we?"

"Not a problem," he grinned. "Your brother gave me directions over the phone. It's a straight shot from here."

But experience had taught Rhonda that nothing is a straight shot from anywhere when Steve is driving.

"Did you write them down?

He brushed aside her question. "We'll do fine."

When reunion day arrived, they climbed into their van for the three hour trip. Three and a half hours later, after passing (for the second time) a strangely familiar Taco restaurant, Rhonda asked, "Shouldn't we stop and ask directions?"

Steve pressed his lips together. "Nah. I know it's around here someplace."

When another twenty minutes passed, he pulled into a gas station. He had to. The gas gauge was on empty. While he pumped the gas, Rhonda walked over to the attendant and asked for help.

"What'd ya do that for?" Steve bristled when she returned with a hand-drawn map. "I would have found it."

Do you know people like Steve, quick to bluster, "I don't need help to find my way"? No wonder so many keep circling the block, muttering to themselves, "I know it's around here somewhere."

Getting lost on the way to a party is frustrating, but not disastrous. Getting lost trying to find direction for our lives . . . well, that's another story.

In my more reflective moments, I wonder why I am sometimes reluctant to ask God for directions. When facing a dilemma of choices, why am I am quick to mutter superficial prayers, but rarely take time to LISTEN for His response? Why do I leave the map -- the Bible -- unopened, when I should be poring over His directions? Why, in the face of a steadily ticking clock, do I waste time circling the block?

It has nothing to do with genetics or gender. It has to do with the eons-old problem of pride -- the same sin that erupted in the Garden when our first parents insisted on doing things their way, instead of God's.

It's taken me more years than I care to count, but I've concluded I have passed the same potholes and caught the same red lights too often. Trying to do things "my way" has only served to delay my arrival at places He has prepared for me. There's no sense in continuing the charade, as if by some quirk of chance I can -- next time -- do it right without Him.

Steve lost only time looking for the reunion, but I -- we -- have much more at stake than an extra hour or two. The abundant life promised by Christ -- peace in the midst of trouble, comfort when our world melts around us -- hangs on our getting it right. Isn't it time we decided, once and forever, that we need God's direction to conduct our daily affairs and to work out our long-range dreams? Isn't it time to stop circling the block?

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:11 AM 0 comments

Sunday, January 15, 2006
A Disturbing Time In Prayer

I had a most disturbing experience this morning during my time with the Lord.

For those of you who don’t know my daily pattern, I spend 10 or 15 minutes worshiping God while listening to worship CDs. Then I read Scripture (currently reading through Genesis and 1 Corinthians). I spend the last of my hour in prayer -- 20 minutes or so.

It was during my prayer that I had the disturbing experience.

As I sat in my rocker (I set aside a small corner of my office space) and meditated on the crucifix on the wall, I imagined the following words appear directly below Christ’s feet:

How Husbands Should Love Their Wives


To cement the concept in my mind, a verse I'd memorized a long time ago passed through my thoughts:

“Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself up for her.”

You might recognize the text from the fifth chapter of St. Paul's letter to the Ephesians.

So, why was that disturbing? I'll tell you.

Christ demands husbands to give of themselves for their wives, as Christ gave Himself for the Church. Even to the point of death.

That’s hard for me to do -- give of myself for Nancy. I'm so self-centered, I grouse at her when she doesn’t keep the dog quiet, and for other equally grave transgressions.

What is it St. Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 13?

I don’t know how I will ever be able to look again at a crucifix and not be reminded of those words: How Husbands Should Love Their Wives.

But, come to think of it – such a reminder will not be a bad thing.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 4:55 PM 1 comments

Wednesday, January 11, 2006
One Tree at a Time

I never knew I had an anterior cruciate ligament. That is, until the last inning of our softball game. I singled to left field and the next batter advanced me to second. The following batter smacked a line drive to right field and as I rounded third the coach waved me home. That's when I received my lesson in human anatomy. Half-way down the third base line something in my right knee popped and I tumbled to the dirt, hurting too much to move.

The anterior cruciate ligament - also known as the ACL - is a band of tissue located behind the knee. It's chief purpose is to stabilize the top of the leg with the bottom. If the ACL tears, the knee can shift out of position during normal activities as walking or running. It is not a good feeling when the top of the leg shifts away from the bottom.

The surgery a few weeks later to repair my ACL went well. Before I knew much of what had happened - it was over. The recovery period, however, was a different story. I was acutely aware of each moment as I stretched, bent and otherwise worked to rehabilitate my knee.

Part of my therapy included jogging several times a week to build up the surgically induced leg muscle atrophy. Jogging was uncomfortable for two reasons. First, my knee was pretty sore. Second, because I was not as aerobically conditioned as before my accident, I no longer had the stamina necessary for a "good" workout.

During my rehabilitation, as I pushed myself along the asphalt, my thoughts flashed back several years to the time I first started jogging. Though unable to run 100 yards without gasping for air, I often played a mind-game with myself. Whenever the temptation to abandon my self-inflicted torture sapped my determination, I talked myself into running "just until the next tree." Once there, I could sometimes convince myself to run just a little further - to the next tree. And so I finished the course, one tree at a time.

Reminding myself of those mind/body exercises, I used the same strategy during my post-surgery jogs, pushing my legs "just until the next tree."

And then I saw a spiritual parallel.

Scripture teaches that forces of light and forces of darkness are locked in deadly duel for our minds (2 Corinthians 10:3-4; Ephesians 6:10-18). Sometimes we will get hurt. Sometimes we will wonder if we can even go on.

When that happens -- it is crucial that we push to the next tree. And the next. And the next. When thoughts creep into our mind causing us to doubt God's love, take them captive and push on - today - determined to trust God's word. When too tired to read the Bible, push on - today - even if it is to only push through a chapter. When too busy to pray, push on - today - praying if only for a few minutes. Giving up serves only to permit our spiritual muscles to atrophy. Perhaps that is why Scripture encourages us to "gird up our loins" and press forward, fixing our eyes on Jesus -- the author and perfecter of our faith (1 Peter 1:13; Philippians 3:13; Hebrews 12:2).

You and I can worry tomorrow about what we will do tomorrow with our doubts and fears and temptations. Today, the goal of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus is just in sight - one tree at a time.

Let's push together to the next tree.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 7:48 PM 0 comments

Friday, January 06, 2006
Pearl of Great Price

I’m a channel surfer. I can waste an hour in front of the television, surfing from one station to another . . . and then to another, never watching a program for more than 30 seconds.

I’m told it’s a “guy” thing.

But when I landed on the Antique show just as the appraiser quoted three thousand dollars for a porcelain plate, my jaw dropped. I turned up the volume to make sure I’d heard correctly and put the remote control aside.

The woman who owned the plate seemed just as surprised. After her initial shock, she told the appraiser she had purchased it at a thrift store for fifty cents. She almost passed it by for another dish laying among knickknacks and used clothing on the table nearby. But something about that particular plate caught her eye and she placed it in her shopping cart.

As the two went on about her plate, I shook my head in amazement and wondered how many hundreds of other shoppers wandered through that store and snubbed their noses at what turned out to be a treasure. How many handled it, turned it upside down, ran their hands across its smooth surface -- and then set it aside for another?

I wondered also about the previous owners. Had the dish been in the family for decades? Instead of being used for special dinners, had it become just a part of the clutter on some shelf in the attic? What would they think if someone told them the hand-me-down they sold for pennies was worth a small fortune?

The attitude of many people to the discarded porcelain plate is, in some ways, like the attitude of many toward an even greater treasure. In my walk with Christ across the last thirty-three years, I have shared my faith with hundreds of people.

Friends, coworkers, neighbors and strangers alike often smiled at me as I spoke -- and then moved along to see what else was available. Some with whom I’ve spoken grew up in the church. They attended Sunday school most of their lives and could quote Scripture from memory. But the attractiveness of Jesus and of a relationship with Him had become so familiar that He no longer held their attention. He became little more than clutter which they willingly traded for trinkets.

People have always turned aside from the familiar and unattractive in favor of the new and pretty. Few believed that the despised One, the rejected One, the One without ”appearance that we should be attracted to Him” (Isaiah 53) would become the pearl of great price, the chief corner stone, the One to whom every knee will bow and every tongue confess that He is Lord.

Even today, as He stands surrounded by dozens of faiths, philosophies and theologies, millions of people pass Him by. Yes, some stop to investigate more closely. They pick him up, turn him over, examine his words, his commandments, his passions, his warnings. But most place Him back onto the shelf and move on.

Only a few see what others fail to see. Only a remnant take Him home. But those who do, soon discover to their joyous surprise they have in their possession a treasure of incomparable worth. A gift more precious than life itself.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 11:32 AM 0 comments

Saturday, December 31, 2005
No Other Address

As I surfed the radio channels on my way home yesterday, I paused briefly at Michael Savage's show. I know I caught him in the middle of the conversation with a caller, but Michael said something I'd like to pass on here. He thinks the belief that there is only one way to heaven is, in his words, "absurd."

I doubt Michael Savage reads this blog, but in case he does, this essay below illustrates why I know he is wrong.

-------------------
No Other Address

It came back to me twice. The first time, I only glanced at the address, thinking my email provider's network was acting up again - as it does occasionally. But when my message returned the second time to my in-box, I looked more closely at the address. Then I saw my mistake: I had accidentally added a letter to the addressee's name.

Unlike regular mail delivered by the Postal Service, an electronic-mail address demands perfection. Mail carriers have correctly delivered mail to my house despite multiple misspellings on the envelope. I have even received my mail when it was addressed to the incorrect house number. Electronic mail, however, is a different story. One letter out of place, one character missing, and you might as well not bother to send it. Your letter is not going anywhere but into the great cyberspace-boomerang.

The analogy is not perfect, but when it comes to the subject of eternal salvation, many people presume God is more like a friendly mail carrier than an inflexible email provider. They believe it doesn't matter how the mail is addressed: Jesus, Allah, Buddha, the Good Fairy. All roads lead to heaven -- or so the argument goes. As long as our intentions are good, the celestial delivery service will get us where we want to go.

They couldn't be more wrong. God accepts only one address for eternal life. He has determined only one Savior, one Bridge between us and God, one Door between heaven and earth.

The Jewish Prophets caught just a glimpse of Him. Isaiah said He shall be called, " . . . Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace'" (Isaiah 9:6). The prophet Daniel added, "And to Him was given (an everlasting) dominion . . . that all the peoples . . . might serve Him" (Daniel 7:14). But it was not until half a millennium after Daniel's death that the Savior's identity was fully revealed.

St. Peter told those gathered in Jerusalem that heaven's only acceptable address is spelled JESUS CHRIST (Acts 4:12). St. Paul wrote, "At the name of Jesus, every knee should bow . . . and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord" (Philippians 2:10-11). And the Lord Jesus said of Himself, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father, but through me" (John 14:6).

Sometimes I am frustrated when the cyber-postmaster rejects my email. The idea that I could have made a mistake hardly crosses my mind. It's easier to place blame on the email provider, and more than once I have muttered aloud that if they can't be more efficient, I'll take my business elsewhere. Truth is, however, I don't need another email provider. I just need to follow the rules when I address my mail. Nothing short of perfection will work.

God's rule about eternal life is equally rigid. He requires nothing short of perfection in our "address." There is no savior but Jesus. No forgiveness of sins except through Jesus. No access to heaven apart from Jesus. Anything added to His rule, anything taken away, will only result in our rejection. And there is no in-box available for a second chance.


rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net



posted by rich 10:51 AM 0 comments

Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Nothing More To Hide

You wouldn't know it by looking at me. In jeans and a sweat shirt, I appear trim and athletic. But you'll not catch me wearing a bathing suit. Age has taken it's pound of flesh from my self-image and molded several around my midsection. Love handles, they're called. I hate them. But at 55 years of age, I've learned to compensate. I never take my shirt off in public.

Hiding myself behind clothes reminds me of my younger days when I didn't need to conceal bulging flesh. I weighed 150 pounds of muscle and looked for opportunities to strut shirtless along the beach or pool side. But even while I exposed my physique, I hid a lot of other things behind a wardrobe of lies and excuses.

For a while, I wore intellectualism, and a variety of philosophies, like a suit of armor. My two favorite outfits were: "All religions lead to the same place," and "as long as no one gets hurt, what's the big deal how we live?" Then I went through a period during which I clothed myself with atheism -- and for good reason. If God didn't exist, then I had no one to whom I would ultimately answer and I could do what I pleased -- so long as I didn't get caught. A few years later, when I accepted the likelihood of God's existence, I wrapped myself in a robe of religion. I memorized the Ten Commandments (to show God I was serious) and performed good deeds as often as it was convenient to do so.

As I changed wardrobes during my teen and young adult years, I never suspected how threadbare my clothes had become. Only when I discovered the gospel of Christ did I recognize my nakedness. To make things worse, God stood me in front of His mirror . . . the Bible. I cringed at what I saw.

My reflection sagged under the weight of every fold and crease of my sins - thefts, selfishness, sexual immorality, pride, drunkenness, hatred and open rebellion against God. I wanted to cover myself, do anything to hide my hideous appearance. But there was no place to go. Nothing to wear. It didn't require a degree in rocket science to know I needed a new life and new clothes. At the time I didn't know the Biblical term, but I needed to be born again.

Are you trying to hide something from God? I'll tell you from personal experience, you may as well give up. He sees through every fabric and layer of excuse you slip on to cover your sins. "Nothing in all creation is hidden from God's sight," Scripture tells us. "Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account" (Hebrews 4:13).

Since He sees it all anyway, why continue the charade? Why not just unload all that weight and receive the new life He offers? "If anyone is in Christ," Scripture promises, "he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come (2 Corinthians 5:17). That means God offers us a new heart and a new life. Be clothed "with garments of salvation and arrayed . . . in a robe of righteousness" (Isaiah 61:10).

No one needs to be ashamed any longer by their rolls and creases of sin. God has opened his arms and offers a spotless cover, a flawless remedy -- Christ.

All we have to do is open the door to our heart and receive Him (see Revelation 3:20).

End

rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:34 PM 2 comments

Thursday, December 22, 2005
The Reason We Say, "Merry Christmas"

In the thirty-three years I've attended Christmas morning services, I don't remember thinking much about the nativity creche. After all, I'd seen the Infant, His parents and shepherds hundreds of times in churches, on front lawns and beneath Christmas trees. They blended long ago into the season's background. But a few Christmases ago, as my wife and I knelt at the altar, waiting to receive communion, the plaster figurines in front of us caught my attention. And I knew why.

My gaze had shifted for a moment to the crucifix behind the pulpit. It loomed thirty feet above the altar and suddenly brought the Christmas creche into a sobering and new perspective.

Two thousand years ago, few people in Bethlehem recognized the importance of the stable where Joseph and Mary snuggled their newborn son. But it's not hard to understand why they missed its significance. It wasn't the kind of place you'd expect to find someone important.

The stable was not like a pretty picture on a Christmas card. The grueling journey to Bethlehem left Joseph and Mary tired and hungry. They longed to find a place to bathe and for a warm bed. Instead, they arrived in a city of strangers and Joseph raced in vain from inn to inn, desperately seeking a comfortable place for his wife to lie down. You know the story. They couldn't find a room in the local inn, so they settled themselves for the night in a darkened corner of a stable, to the smell of manure and rotting straw.

But in that stable, Almighty God took the form of a helpless Child and stepped into human history to reconcile men and women -- you and me -- to Himself. The miraculous virgin birth in that dirty place heralded a cataclysmic transformation in the relationship between us and Himself. No one in that little town of Bethlehem knew it, but humanity's destiny revolved around that manger -- and Calvary's cross looming in its shadow.

Three decades later, beneath Calvary's cross, the manger was a distant memory in Mary's heart. The Child-grown-to-be-a-Man now hung on a splintered, bloodstained crossbeam. It looked nothing like the smooth and polished cross towering above the altar in front of me. On Calvary's cross, Jesus' back lay ripped open by Roman whips. Blood from the roughly woven crown of thorns caked on His forehead. Nails holding him to the wood sent waves of searing pain across His hands and feet. Thirst ravaged his throat. His strength slowly slipped away as he struggled to breathe. Yet all the while, soldiers jeered, religious leaders mocked, and his friends and family wept.

No one on that hillside knew it, but as Jesus suffered and then died on that cross, God launched the second of His three-phased plan to rescue us from the even more horrible destiny our sins had guaranteed.

The creche is about the Savior's birth; the cross, about His death. The creche cradled God's incarnation; the cross tortured Him. The creche is about God's Son born into our world; the cross, about Him paying sin's judgment and dying in our place. But without the empty tomb, the creche and the cross would be meaningless. Without the empty tomb, no one would have hope for life beyond this one. No one would have assurance that we have a heavenly Father who loves us, grieves with us, yearns for an intimate relationship with us.

The creche, the cross, and the empty tomb brought God's plan of reconciliation and redemption to completion. Because of that Divine Triad, Christians can testify with absolute certainty that their sins can forgiven and they can be reborn as children of God. The creche, cross and empty tomb is God's irrevocable declaration that those who, with obedient faith, believe the Baby of the creche became the Man on the cross and resurrected Savior, can have God's promise of eternal life (see John 3:16).

As I received Communion that morning, I prayed I would never again see the creche simply as a reminder of a long-ago Bethlehem birth. Instead, I hoped -- and continue to hope -- it will always remind me that God really does love the world so much that He gave His Son to die for us, so we might be forever free. I hope it always reminds me that His birth, death and resurrection is the reason we say, "Merry Christmas!"

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:09 PM 0 comments

Saturday, December 17, 2005
Merry Myth-mas(?)
I wrote this a couple of years ago. Unfortunately, little has changed.
--------------------

At first, I didn't notice the change. But that's not unusual. I miss a lot of things right under my nose. Like the Christmas poinsettia my wife set in the middle of our dining room table. It took two days before it finally caught my eye.

So, when Nancy said, "have you noticed how rarely you see the words, "Merry Christmas" any more?" I shrugged and went back to my newspaper. I'd been too busy juggling responsibilities at work, at home and with my aging out-of-state parents to pay much attention to anything else. Even Christmas.

Two days later, a commentator on National Public Radio (NPR) voiced a similar observation; Then I read an essay by columnist Don Feder.

"Christmas," Feder observed, "is being rapidly replaced with a generic holiday that, by coincidence, comes around December 25. "Merry Christmas" has been generally discarded in favor of "happy holiday." Stores have holiday sales. Schools have a winter recess . . . The "C" word is conspicuous by its absence.

But it wasn't until an email dropped into my inbox from a cyberspace acquaintance that I began to stir. We belong to the same email community and she wanted us to know her son had come up with a great label for Christmas. "Mythmas." Then she added, "I love it."

I might be slow to notice poinsettias on the dining room table, but I can recognize a spotlight when I see it. Why has the "C" word has fallen on hard times? Why do some people label December 25th as "winter-holiday" and prefer "Mythmas" to "Christmas"?

Perhaps it's the roots of Christmas.

Christmas is rooted in the miraculous. Six hundred years before Jesus' birth, the Jewish prophet Isaiah wrote: "The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son" (Isaiah 7:14). Two chapters later he added, "and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace" (Isaiah 9:6). For those who don't believe in miracles and God-inspired prophecy, the virgin birth of Jesus is simply a fairy tale.

Christmas is rooted in the record of Deity living among us and, through the Holy Spirit, has remained uniquely with us ever since. When we lie down, He is there. When we stand, He is beside us. When we are lonely or troubled -- God is with us. For people who scoff at the idea that God became Man, Christmas must seem like nonsense. Maybe even blasphemy.

Christmas is rooted in God's inexplicable love for us. His Christmas gift, wrapped in strips of cloth in a Bethlehem stable, offered us eternal forgiveness because the Babe in the manger would, as an adult, take the punishment God required for our sins. And in so doing, God assured complete pardon for everyone who repents and calls on Christ as their savior. For people accustomed to earning love from a parent or spouse, belief that God loves them, despite their sins, is probably more like a child's fantasy than an adult reality.

Christmas is rooted in God's immeasurable grace. Many of us might not admit it out loud, but we think we deserve a pat on the back from God. We're good to our neighbors. We support charities, take care of the earth, protect whales, coyotes and other animals. And, if front-page headlines are any indication, we're a lot better than most people.

But God tells us we're not good enough. Nor could we ever be. He set the bar at absolute holiness, and we will never reach His standard on our own. Christmas reminds us God personally intervened in human affairs to bridge the unbridgeable gap between our weakness and His strength, our sins and His holiness. Those who believe they don't need help to gain God's favor might think Christmas is a story for the weak.

Long before the first Christmas, God said, "My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts" (Isaiah 55:8,9).

Christmas will remain a myth, a day to call by any other name, for those who reject the Bethlehem story of God who became Man, of God who loves the unlovely, rescues the lost and walks with the penitent. But for those whose hearts look toward God, trusting Him for forgiveness and rescue from sin's penalty, Christmas is more than historical fact. It is nothing less than miraculous.

Merry Christmas.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 7:57 PM 0 comments

Friday, December 16, 2005
He Knows Our Address

". . . and these are their journeys according to their starting places" (Numbers 33:2).

Some of the lists of cities and towns in Numbers can be mind-numbing. I usually skim through them. I'm too busy fighting traffic, punching time clocks and paying bills to care about places I can hardly pronounce -- like Kehelathah, Bene-jaakan and Iye-abarim.

But I should spend more time with those lists. I can learn a few things from them.

During their journey through the desert, the Israelites changed addresses more than 40 times -- from one near-unpronounceable place to another. I wonder how often they crawled out of bed asking if God really knew where they were, if He'd been distracted and lost track of His people.

God wasn't distracted. He knew each place by name, how long His people had been there, who was born and who died there.

Sometimes as I struggle with my own journey through near mind-numbing days and chores, I wonder if God knows my address. Has He blinked and lost sight of me? Does He know where I live and why I'm here?

How foolish of me. God listed each place His people pitched their tents in the desert, and He knows where I -- where we --live today. Whether in a mansion, a prison, retirement home or shack, God knows our address.

And He cares about us. If Calvary proves anything, it proves that.

Father, help me remember I am never out of your sight.
Amen.

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 8:42 PM 0 comments

Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Is This What Communion Is?

While on a business trip a few years before I became a Catholic Christian, I visited a church and took a seat in the second row of pews. I prefer to sit up front, where I feel like I can better participate in worship. I can’t do that as well when I sit toward the rear of the sanctuary.

It was the first Sunday of the month, the time this particular church took Communion. I looked forward to sharing the Lord’s Supper with them.

After the announcements, some choruses and the pastor’s sermon, a deacon placed two wicker baskets on the wood altar, along with two brown porcelain bowls, a silver tray covered with crackers, and another tray with small plastic cups of grape juice.

I hope to never forget what happened next. As the pianist softly played a hymn, the pastor invited the congregation to come forward, place our prayer requests in the baskets, our tithes in the bowls and, "if you'd like to take communion, you can do so."

Not sure what he could have possibly meant by what sounded like plain English, I watched with dumfounded disbelief as people formed a small line of about half a dozen, waiting to drop their prayer requests or tithes into the appropriate receptacles – oh, and yes -- take the Communion elements, if they so chose.

The pastor said nothing about what Communion means, why we should participate, or the Biblical warning about taking the body and blood unworthily. Just, "if you'd like to take communion, take the cracker and juice."

It is arguable (and I believe it is true) the Lord Jesus said, and the apostles and the early Church Fathers believed – indeed, virtually the entire Church right up to the Reformation believed -- the bread and wine actually becomes the Body and Blood of Christ. The Eucharist was for more than 1500 years the center of Christian worship (as it still is in Catholic, Orthodox and some liturgical Protestant churches). But my experience in that particular church service made me wonder, is this where some church bodies are headed - placing the Communion elements on the altar railing, along with wicker baskets for tithes and prayer requests?

If the Eucharist is the body and blood of Christ, what have we done to it? Even if, as many Protestants believe, the elements are merely a remembrance of Christ, is that what our remembrance leads us to do -- take the bread and wine almost as an afterthought, something we do once a month -- on the altar, without so much as a word to remind us of what it is we are to remember?

The tithe receives more emphasis in some churches!

My brethren, these things ought not to be this way.

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 3:49 PM 1 comments

Sunday Religion (?)


Then Balak sent other princes, more numerous and more distinguished than the first. They came to Balaam and said: 'This is what Balak son of Zippor says: Do not let anything keep you from coming to me, because I will reward you handsomely and do whatever you say. Come and put a curse on these people for me.' " (Numbers 22:16-17)

Modern Balaks make similar promises: Do what you want, when you want and with whom you want. Don't take your Sunday religion into the rest of the week. It'll spoil your opportunities for advancement, wealth and fun.

If you remember the rest of the story in Numbers, you know what God thinks of Sunday-only faith. Doing what we want, when and with whom costs a lot more than any sane person would be willing to spend.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:22 AM 0 comments

Saturday, December 10, 2005
Storms and Foundations

"I will show you what he is like who comes to me and hears my words and puts them into practice. He is like a man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent struck that house but could not shake it, because it was well built. But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. The moment the torrent struck that house, it collapsed and its destruction was complete." (Luke 6:47-49)

You and I have two choices: dig deeply or cut corners.

Digging deep requires time, sweat and perseverance. That's why it's hard work. Cutting corners requires little time, sweat or perseverance. That's why it's easy.

But when storms blow across our lives, I know the foundation I'd rather have.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 7:39 PM 0 comments

Monday, December 05, 2005
Mom, Me and Calvary

I was upset with my son. He disobeyed me, and I had to restrict him. I also was annoyed because I wanted him to go to the ball game as much as he wanted to go. Maybe more so.

"This is going to hurt me," I said, jabbing the air with my finger, "more than it hurts you."

I don't know how many times I said that to our children while they were growing up. Millions of times, I'd bet. And every time the words flowed across my lips I knew from their eyes, they didn't believe me. But I understood their skepticism because each time I mouthed those words I could hear my mother, so many years before, say the same thing to me.

I never believed her, either. After all, I was the one restricted. Not her. I was the one disciplined. Not her. I was the one... always. Not her.

But mom did a lot of things in those years while my sister, Andrea, and I were growing up...a lot of things which hurt her more than it ever hurt us. In 1955, when my father deserted us for another woman, single mothers had very few financial options available to them. Welfare as it is known today did not exist. We did not have food stamps, or WIC, or rent assistance. There was precious little governmental aid to put clothing on our backs or food on our table. As a young and attractive woman of 23, Mom could have packed us off to an orphanage and gone on with her life. But she didn't. Instead, she went to work. Not one job, but two.

She struggled to raise us. Though Andrea and I never suspected it, we were dirt poor. But we always had food...even if it was spaghetti with ketchup. Or boiled potatoes and sour cream. And we always had clothing, even though we used cardboard to cover the holes on the bottoms of our shoes, or our cuffs rose several inches above our ankles. But I especially remember we always had warm arms to snuggle us and tuck us into bed at night... before she left us in the care of a baby-sitter and hurried off to her night job.

"This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you." As an adult I now understand the sentiment more than I ever could as a child. I understand because loving my children sometimes means sacrificing things important to me. Sometimes it means giving up my own time and money and dreams and desires so that they might benefit. Sometimes it means giving when there is no more to give. And yes, sometimes it means saying no when it would please them so (and please me as well) for me to say yes.

"This is going to hurt me...." Lately I find myself thinking of Another who spoke those words, at least in principle, so many centuries ago. And in reflecting, I wonder who can ever really understand His sacrifice? Who can ever fully grasp the horror of an absolutely holy God offering His back to the whip so that our sins might be forgiven? Who can really understand the heartache of the heavenly Father as He watches His creation shake a collective fist in His face and turn a deaf ear to His love? Can you and I ever hope, this side of eternity, to adequately understand, "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son..."(John 3:16); Or Romans 5:8, "God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us"?

I never knew my sin hurt Him so much more than it hurt me. I never knew my rebellion bore so much more heavily on His shoulders than it ever did on mine. I never knew it was my guilt which hammered spikes into His flesh. But in learning that truth I found myself... and still find myself... ever increasingly grateful for His love, His forgiveness and His sacrifice for me.

If the Lord is willing, my children will someday have children of their own. And I suspect that, as the need arises, they too will say to their offspring, "This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you."

I can only pray that while doing so, they will ever be reminded of the One who said it most clearly on Calvary. And that in remembering, waves of thankfulness will ever wash across their hearts.

Rich

posted by rich 2:22 PM 0 comments

Monday, November 21, 2005
Darkness Shall Flee

They always came out at night. While I shivered under the covers, they creaked from the corners of my room and rustled past my bed. The night-light made things worse as its soft glow gave ghostly shape and substance to my imagination.

But as I grew older, my fears slipped unnoticed into the distant memories of childhood. Shadows in the dark and creaks in corners no longer troubled me. I simply ignored them.

I can not pinpoint the time when I no longer feared the dark. As I matured in my understanding of the world around me, I slowly realized there weren't any monsters lurking in the corners of my bedroom. Those images were simply pranks of an over-active imagination. And besides, my parents were in the other room. What did I need to fear?

As a young Christian, I also feared shadows -- spiritual hues of gray and black : Does God really love me enough to forgive me for all the horrible things I had done? Does He really know who I am and how I hurt?

However, as I grew older in my relationship with Christ, the lurking shadows of fear slipped unnoticed into the distant memories of my spiritual childhood. They no longer trouble me because I examine each one them against the light of God's word.

I can't pinpoint the time when the fears of my early Christian walk faded. But as I matured in my faith, I understood that God can be trusted to keep His promises. A well-grounded faith extinguishes all the fiery arrows of fear and doubt. Besides, the heavenly Father is always with me. What do I need to fear?

I don't fully understand how a child matures into an adult. Surely, it is not just a matter of physical aging. But Scripture is clear how a believer matures in Christ. The apostle Paul wrote, "...faith comes from hearing, and hearing from the word of God" (Romans 10:17). The writer to the Hebrews added, "we must consider how to rouse one another to love and good works. We should not stay away from our assembly . . . but encourage one another . . ." (vv. 10:24-25). And Jude instructed: "But you, beloved, build yourselves up in your most holy faith; pray in the holy Spirit" (Jude 1:20).

Spiritual maturity is not an accident. Nor does it occur automatically with age. It is achieved by design, being the result of diligent study of God's Word, regular fellowship with other believers and passionate prayer.

Darkness can be very frightening, driving us under the covers and longing for daylight. But those with a mature faith in Christ can have a confidence which overcomes any fear -- regardless of how dark it may seem.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 7:59 PM 1 comments

Monday, November 14, 2005
Dirty Rocks and Grub Worms

As soon as they burst through the emergency room doors, I knew something was wrong. The parents, still in damp bathing suits, almost threw their limp two-year-old daughter at us and screamed something about a swimming pool.

Within moments, physicians, nurses and technicians swooped into Trauma Room One. In what can only be described as a coordinated frenzy, the resuscitation team slapped wires from the heart monitor onto the child's chest. They inserted a plastic tube into her throat and forced air into her lungs. They pierced her veins with intravenous catheters and pushed emergency medications into her blood stream. In the corner of my eye I spotted the hospital chaplain standing quietly with the child's parents in the hallway, his arm around the dad's sagging shoulders.

But nothing we did -- no amount of drugs or machines or prayers brought her back. Ten years later, I can still see the dad draped across his daughter's body as it lay on the hospital gurney. I can still hear her mom's convulsive sobs echo across the caverns of my memories.

During the three years I worked as a nurse in that emergency department, hundreds of desperate people tore through those same doors. They arrived in rusted-out Chevy pick-ups and high-gloss sedans. In ambulances, taxis and on foot, they came. The young and the old, rich and poor, educated and not-so-educated, blue-collars and executives -- I learned no one is guaranteed safe passage through human experience. Heartache slips in and out of life's shadows, and when it chooses its victim, neither power, money, prestige . . . nothing can restrain its hand.

I think it is because I've seen the tragedies rip so often into others, as I move past my fifty-fifth birthday, I find myself re-examining my own priorities. That's why the Calvin and Hobbes comic strip caught my attention.

Calvin is shoulders deep, busy shoveling dirt from a hole, while Hobbes, his stuffed tiger watches.

"What have you found?" Hobbes asks.

Calvin's eyes sparkle. "A few dirty rocks, a weird root, and some disgusting grubs. There's treasure everywhere!"

At first, I smiled. Children find treasure in the most unlikely places and no one is surprised when they showcase rocks and worms. But, when I recognized another message in Calvin's treasure, my smile faded.

As a child, I also showcased things like rocks and roots. But now I am more sophisticated. Instead of grub worms, I showcase "real" treasure -- financial investments, university degrees, job prestige and a continuing litany of "bigger-better-more."

I could be quite content with those adult treasures -- if it were not for the gnawing memories of emergency rooms where bigger-better-more never comforts those who convulse with grief at the bedside of their dead. I learned long ago that a hospital room is where everything we hold dear to ourselves washes out: money, popularity, passions, careers -- like charred timbers after a house fire, a death-bed places so many things in clear perspective. Perhaps that's one reason the Psalmist prayed, "So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom" (Psalm 90:12).

I don't believe it coincidental that the day I read Calvin, I was also studying my way through Ecclesiastes. King Solomon had it all -- money, power, prestige. And he used them all to satisfy every whim that tantalized his flesh and thoughts. "All that my eyes desired I did not refuse them," he wrote in chapter 2. "I did not withhold my heart from any pleasure." For years, possibly decades, he fed his lust for bigger-better-more. Not until he neared the end of his life did he recognize the true worth of his treasures.

"Vanity of vanities," he called them. He could have just as easily called them dirty rocks, weird roots and grub worms.

To his credit, Solomon accepted the truth about his treasures before it was
too late to make things right. Before his body returned to dust (Ecclesiastes 12:7) he discovered the bankruptcy of bigger-better-more. At last, he understood true treasure. "The conclusion, when all has been heard, is: fear God and keep His commandments, because this applies to every person. For God will bring every act to judgement . . . whether it is good or evil" (v. 13-14).

I taped the Calvin cartoon to my refrigerator door. It will remain there a long time, a reminder to check my spiritual bank account day by day. It will remind me to ensure my real treasure -- my relationship with Christ -- matures with every deposit of personal Bible study, prayer and fellowship with other believers.

Someday I might be on the other end of the emergency room doors. I don't want to discover, at that moment, my treasures were nothing more than dirty rocks and grub worms.

rich

posted by rich 8:25 PM 1 comments

Monday, November 07, 2005
Mine or His?

His muscles quivered with tension. His tail flicked left and right -- and left again. Anticipation oozed from every pore of his mixed Pug/Chihuahua body. How could I say no to those coal-black eyes?

"You want a chewy?"

Before the last syllable left my lips, Odie leapt and twirled in circles around my legs. His ear-piercing yelps sent goose bumps down the back of my neck. You'd think I'd offered him a 32-ounce char-broiled steak.

I pushed open the pantry door and reached for the dog treats. That was a mistake. As soon as he saw me pull the box from the shelf, he ratcheted his frenzy up another few notches. Odie's only a foot and a half tall when standing on his hind legs, but can fly three feet off the floor at the thought of getting a goodie.

"Sit," I ordered. "Down! Now roll over. Good dog."

Satisfied he knew who was boss, I tossed the treat at his feet. Before it bounced twice, Odie snatched it between his teeth and trotted to his rug in the kitchen. He circled himself into a cozy spot and, for the next few moments, I watched him nuzzle and lick his chewy with the affection I thought he reserved only for me. He seemed oblivious to my existence . . . until I took a step toward him. As I did, he scrambled to his feet and snatched the treasure between his jaws.

I smiled when I realized what my dog was thinking. I stepped back and he carefully laid it again on the floor -- never taking his eyes off me. Each time I moved toward him he grabbed the chewy as if to challenge: "Mine! You can't have it."

We played the game a few more times until I tired of it and walked past him into the living room. From the recliner, I watched him still watching me and I wondered, didn't he realize I'm the one who feeds him, takes him for walks in the rain, snow, heat and hail? Didn't he remember I sacrificed my favorite belt so we could play tug-of-war? I thought we were buddies. So why does he jealously guard a treat I gave him?

While Odie nuzzled his treasure and warily eyed me, another question filtered through my mind more clearly than Balaam heard the donkey. You can read about it in Numbers 22. How often do I act like Odie?

More than I'd like to admit.

Just as every good thing Odie gets, he gets from me, so every good thing I get "is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation, or shifting shadow" (James 1:17). From the goodness of my heart, I give Odie chewies. From the goodness of God's heart, I receive treasures such as money, talents, health, time.

So why, when He asks me to return some of my treasure to His work, do I jealously guard each coin, each minute, each talent in tightly clenched fists, as if to challenge the Giver, "It's mine! You can't have it"?

After these many years of walking with Christ -- more than thirty, actually -- I still struggle with that question. Odie acts like a beast because he is a beast.

But, I am a child of God. I wish I'd act more like one.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 7:37 PM 0 comments

Saturday, November 05, 2005
My Body. My Blood

Vultures hovered overhead, hoping for a few morsels of fresh meat. Attracted by the smell of clotted blood, flies settled on the suffering men, too exhausted to shrug or shake their heads and frighten them away. Little wonder why those on the hilltop were oblivious to the rendezvous of eternity with time as the Infinite, Ineffable and Incomprehensible One hung on a splintered cross.

If only they had ears to hear. The soldiers, religious leaders and disciples would have heard Creation silence itself to a holy hush as God's Son slowly died. If they had eyes to see, they'd have fallen to their faces before those twelve legions of angels (Matthew 26:53) who waited, swords unsheathed, for their crucified Creator to merely whisper for rescue. If they had any insight, they'd have known the dirt beneath their feet was holy ground.

The church my wife and I now attend celebrates communion every day. The priest takes his place at the altar, raised the paten and chalice and repeated the Scripture, "This is my body which is given for you; do this in remembrance of me . . . this is my blood of the covenant which is poured out for many for forgiveness of sins."

This is My body. This is My blood. How did I miss that majestic, mysterious truth for thirty years?

For three decades we attended churches in which pastors, teachers, and entire congregations agreed the bread and grape juice were only symbols, a picture pointing to an event 2000 years ago.

I don't know why I didn't know better. During those thirty years, I read the gospel accounts of the Lord's Supper hundreds of times. I memorized St. Paul 's instruction in 1 Corinthians 10:16, "The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? (my emphasis). The bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? (my emphasis). I read the Scripture passage in John 6: "Jesus said to them, 'Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink . . . . Then many of his disciples who were listening said, 'This saying is hard; who can accept it?' " (John 6: 53-60).

A hard saying, indeed. His words were so difficult to accept, many of His disciples walked away (verse 66). Two thousand years later, His words are still difficult for many within Christendom to accept, and we turn from eating and drinking the literal flesh and blood of our Lord.

It is our unspeakable loss when we turn away.

Sometime in early 2003, as if given ears to hear and eyes to see, I realized the Lord Jesus meant precisely what He said: "This is My body. This is My blood."

The Lord turned water to wine, fed thousands with a few fish and pieces of bread, healed the blind, the leper, the lame and raised the dead to life. Most incredible, three days after His own death, He burst from the grave in invincible life. So why should it seem an unbelievable feat that He changes cellulose into His flesh, and fermented grapes into His blood?

I can't see Him, feel Him or touch Him, yet I believe He is always with me because He said He is (Matthew 28:20). So when He says He's in the Eucharist, why should I doubt simply because my sense of smell, taste and touch tell me differently? He said I am a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17), and I believe it, although I look the same in the mirror as before I came to faith. And He said He is in the elements of communion. So why doubt simply because they look unchanged from the bread and wine before the priest's blessing?

In that transformation of the common to the sacred, we are on holy ground. The very body, blood, soul and divinity of the Lord Jesus are fully and mysteriously present in the Eucharist. His holy presence slips from timelessness into our timeline. Vicarious and symbolic participation in the gospel story morphs in the eternal present to our personal appearance at the cross.

Christ is here. Now. From the perspective of timeless eternity, He is not only currently on Calvary 2,000 years ago, but He is here on the altar at the front of the sanctuary. While I wait to take His flesh and blood, the Saints comprising that great cloud of witnesses in heaven (Hebrews 12:1) join me in proclaiming, "the Savior has come. The Savior is risen. The Savior is giving. He is ever giving, interceding, loving, forgiving, and covering our sins with His blood."
Through the priest, Christ speaks, "This is My body. This is My blood." I want to take off my shoes, to fall on my knees before the Holy One in what was once bread and wine.

If only -- if only we always had eyes to see and ears to hear. We wouldn't be so quick to let our minds wander from the sublime to the mundane, from the sacred to the secular. Who cares what's for dinner after church when we are in the presence of the Bread of Life? What does it matter what's on television later today when heaven is open before us now? How can we be bothered by a dozen niggling annoyances around us when the Prince of Peace beckons us to sit at His feet?

What should matter, what must matter, is that Jesus -- knowing who we are, what we've done, and how often we've done it -- Jesus calls us to come in humility and repentance, to eat His flesh and drink His blood. To find forgiveness, and live forever.

Thanks be to God for His indescribable Gift! (2 Corinthians 9:15).

Rich

posted by rich 4:54 PM 2 comments

Sunday, October 30, 2005
My Journey

If you had asked me why I walked into New York's St. Patrick's cathedral that brisk November afternoon, I would have told you I did it to get out of the wind. I think God placed me at Rockefeller Center for another reason.

As the door closed behind me, I shook off the chill. It felt good to be out of the cold. I unbuttoned my overcoat and scanned the cathedral's interior, awed by the exquisite beauty. It's little wonder more than three million people visit the church each year.

I walked into the nave and strolled along the aisles, moving slowly by the Stations of the Cross, admiring the intricate architecture and stained glass windows, stopping now and then at the statues of Saints, savoring the soft glow of flickering candles.

That's when I noticed them . . . the other visitors. Dozens of men and women wandered the sanctuary, pausing when some work of art or devotion caught their interest. Many continued their circuit until they reached the front door and exited back onto the street. Others, though, turned aside to sit in pews and lose themselves in contemplation. A few knelt in prayer. One or two leaned against the side of their pew and slept.

Watching them, I realized those nameless visitors, and those unseen men and women beyond the front doors, illustrated points along my journey toward Christ.

Those who hurried by in the chill outside the cathedral reminded me of myself in my early teen years, brushing past my parent's faith. I wanted to live as I chose, not by what I considered an ancient religious creed. I didn't know -- or care -- that warmth and acceptance awaited me in Christ. I was too busy bundling myself against the cold to bother stepping inside.

In my later teen years, curious about God, I visited religion as a tourist visits a distant country. I wanted to know more about Him. What was He like? What did He think of me? Did He think of me? So, I wandered through the doors and tried to follow the Ten Commandments, to be kinder to others, less selfish . . . I prayed, gave to charities and even fasted.

But the longer I visited with God, the more I learned He required things of me I was unwilling to give. Like obedience. Commitment. Sacrifice.

It wasn't long before I looked for the nearest exit and stepped back onto the wind-whipped streets of my former life.

At twenty-two, still shivering from the cold reality of sin, I returned through those doors of faith. Tentatively, at first, sitting in the shadows. I meditated on what I knew of Christ's passion, death and resurrection. I contemplated the meaning of faith, of God's mercy, forgiveness and love. I sat in quiet reflection, wondering about my future and struggling with memories of my past. Before long, contemplation led to prayer -- prayer for forgiveness of my sins, for a willingness to obey and, if necessary, suffer for Him.

But, like those asleep in the pew, I have also dozed in the midst of the journey. Perhaps because I grew comfortable with my walk with Christ I became self-satisfied with church, the Bible and confession of sin until my faith was nothing more than rote -- routine and meaningless. Jesus wanted me to tell the world the good news of His love, but I wouldn't drag myself from the TV. He told me to go to those who rushed past the doors of faith, to invite them to discover His warmth, but I pulled the blankets over my head and hoped someone else would do it.

I wish I could say my journey has been linear: from doubt to faith, from faith to service. But it hasn't. Like the visitors in St. Patrick's, it's been a blend of slow and halting steps of reflection, prayer, service and, yes, sleepiness. To be honest -- sometimes I've even toyed with the doorknob, wondering if it's still cold outside.

Something else caught my attention in St. Patrick's that afternoon . . . something that reminded me why I first started the journey, and why I continue pressing forward.

I looked toward the crucifix suspended behind the altar and wondered why He did it. Why did the God of the universe empty himself of unfathomable glory and clothe himself in inglorious human flesh? Why did He subject himself to hunger, cold, pain, thirst and a hundred other afflictions common to human frailty? Most of all, why did He permit himself to be mauled, whipped, spat upon, and finally nailed to a splintered cross?

Scripture tells us why. From the earliest hours of creation to its final curtain at the end of the age, God's love for us is woven into the fabric of human history.

Because He so deeply loves us, we have reason to remain focused on the journey. Because God stands beside us at every turn, every failure, every heartache, we can keep our eyes fixed on His Son on the cross. We can continue our journey because the Christ of the cross became the Christ of the empty tomb. And the Christ of the empty tomb promises everyone who loves Him the power to stay the course until the journey's end.

end

posted by rich 8:15 AM 0 comments

Friday, October 28, 2005
God Hates Us (?)

"And you grumbled in your tents and said, ‘Because God hates us, He has brought us out of the land . . . to destroy us.'" (Deuteronomy 1:27)

The Israelites gave voice to what many people think when hardship or tragedy strikes. And I am not proud to admit it, but I've thought similarly when life shattered around me. I accused God -- in my mind, if not with my lips -- "This has happened because you hate me."

Well, maybe I don't use such strong language. But I sure am quick to believe He doesn't really care about me.

Have you ever wondered why we are so quick to rail against heaven when Scripture tells us it is the devil who comes to kill, steal and destroy? The Father sent His Son to die for us, to enter human history to give us hope, purpose and abundant life. What more could God do to demonstrate His pressed-down-shaken-together-and-running-over love?

Not until I consistently recognize, in the midst of my ashes, who it is who roams the earth seeking to devour -- not until I recognize the real enemy will I experience the Father's love in fuller measure. God is not the author of capricious disaster. Satan is. The Savior Jesus always stands beside us to comfort, heal and restore.

May God help us recognize the source of tragedy that we might run to our Lord, confidant, lover and savior for protection, mercy and victory.

rich

posted by rich 6:14 AM 0 comments

Monday, October 24, 2005
I Know Why He Died At Peace

On April 29, 2005, five months before his 90th birthday, Cyril James Farrell died peacefully in bed.

I know why he died at peace.

Cy married my wife's mother, Hilda, twenty-two years earlier. They'd both lost their respective spouses to death. My wife and I, and our three children, didn't see Hilda and Cy more than once or twice a year because we always lived far from each other, but I remember those early years. Quick-tempered and a no-nonsense kind of guy, Cy usually told you what he thought about others, even if it wasn't polite or kind.

And he didn't mellow with age.

But where the passage of years can often set a person in a bad pattern, some life-events can result in just the opposite. That's what happened to Cy.

The first caught up with him in his early 80s. Illness confined him to a walker, then a wheelchair, and eventually a bed. The second life-altering event occurred when he was 85.

That's when he met Christ.

Perhaps Cy committed his life to the Lord Jesus because he finally caught sight of his mortality. Or perhaps it happened because Hilda brought him to church every week. Or perhaps it was because of his family's prayers. Then again, perhaps because of all those things, Cy confessed his sins to God and asked the Lord Jesus to cleanse his hardened heart with His blood.

Never let anyone tell you God is not still in the saving business. For 85 years, Cyril Farrell lived a good life, but a "lost" life. For decades he had heard about God's grace and forgiveness, but like all of us do to one degree or another, he turned away to live as he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted.

Then, at 85 years of age, Cyril Farrell became a chid of God.

Slowly, probably imperceptibly to those who saw him every day, Cy began to change. And those who'd known him as long as I had knew the change was remarkable. Despite his loss of health and strength, I never heard him complain, except to say about his legs, "Isn't that the craziest thing? They don't work anymore like they used to."

Judging from the pastor's eulogy, and the words of those who attended his funeral, no one else heard him complain, either. Instead, they remarked that he always met others with a patient spirit, a ready smile and a kind word.

I guessed more than 300 white-haired friends showed up at the church. Many more would have come, but lived too far away, or were too frail to travel. I believe they came because Cyril James Farrell left a legacy worthy of Christian -- a legacy that attests to the grace, mercy and patience of God who stays with us, year after year, waiting for the Prodigals to come home.

Cy, from one Prodigal to another, I look forward to seeing you on the other side.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 8:02 PM 0 comments

Saturday, October 22, 2005
His Embrace. O How Warm It Is.

The Lord Jesus knew He was about to die. And He knew what that meant. He'd seen others crucified, and it wasn’t a pretty picture. Roman soldiers often crucified prisoners along the roads surrounding Jerusalem. Travelers couldn’t help but see men hang helpless between earth and sky as buzzards hovered overhead or swooped to rip a piece of flesh from an arm or face. They couldn’t help but hear the unrelenting groans of those who were slowly dying. If the breeze flowed the right way, passers-by could smell the smell of death.

Jesus knew a cross would soon be in His future. Perhaps that's one reason He asked His closest friends – Peter, James and John – to pray for Him.

But instead of praying, they fell asleep.

In the Lord’s most desperate time, His closest friends let Him down. Even after He awakened them twice, they continued their slumber.

Has that ever happened to you? Have closest friends -- or parents, siblings, even your spouse or children – have those closest to you let you down when you needed them the most?

The Lord Jesus understands your heartache and loneliness. He was where you are. That’s why He can be such a wonderful friend, confidant and shepherd. That’s why He can place His arms around us and draw us into His embrace.

Sometimes, if we are quiet long enough, we can even sense Him doing that. Those times have become very special to me. I hope they become special for you as well.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 1:43 PM 0 comments

Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Redemptive Suffering(?)

“The crowd joined in the attack against Paul and Silas, and the magistrates ordered them to be stripped and beaten. After they had been severely flogged, they were thrown into prison, and the jailer was commanded to guard them carefully. Upon receiving such orders, he put them in the inner cell and fastened their feet in the stocks.” (Acts 16)

No normal person likes to suffer. But sometimes suffering can become an opportunity to bear fruit for Christ. Paul and Silas are examples of how Christians can redeem even suffering for the Master.

The political leaders beat the two men and had them tossed into a rat-infested cell. Yet, from the midst of that cell the Christians offered their bruised and bloodied bodies to the will and purpose of God.

What might have happened if they had not? What if they had groused instead of sung God’s praises?

Read the story in Acts 16. For one thing, the jailer and his family would not have heard about God’s promise of forgiveness and eternal life. And what of the other prisoners? Scripture is silent about why they were imprisoned, but it’s likely some faced crucifixion for their crimes. Perhaps that very week they would hang on a splintered cross. But because Paul and Silas redeemed their own suffering by offering it to God, some of those condemned prisoners may have gone to their deaths as new creatures in Christ.

What does this have to do with me and you? We face our own crosses: Sickness, Loneliness, Imprisonment, Broken hearts and trampled faith . . . . And who know what trials might come tomorrow? And yet, if we learn to offer our suffering to the One who never places anything on our shoulders we cannot carry, He will work out His purpose in us and bring redemption to others through our trials.

For the Christian who knows he is deeply loved by the Father, everything – even suffering – is a powerful redemptive tool in the hands of the Master.

Lord Jesus, take my heartache, my loneliness, my despair – I place at your feet all that hurts and makes me bleed. Be glorified through my suffering. Be glorified through my life. If necessary, be glorified even through my death. Amen.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:47 PM 0 comments

Saturday, October 15, 2005
Lord, Where Are You?

“Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I . . . make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I . . . settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, ‘Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,’ even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.” (Psalm 139)

Sometimes God seems as distant as the furthest star, and He has left us alone. Terribly, painfully alone.

What’s the use to pray? Why read Scripture? It might as well be written in a foreign language. And don’t tell me about God’s love – if He loved me I wouldn’t feel this way.

Yet, we make a serious, and sometimes deadly mistake to elevate our feelings above God’s promises. Doing so implies our emotions are more faithful and honest than God.

How absurd.

Where can we go from God’s Spirit? The answer to the Psalmist’s rhetorical question is: Nowhere. He is present in all places, at all times and in all situations. He is with us when we grope in the darkness of our soul. He is at our side when we're far from loved ones. He moves close when loneliness gnaws at our spirit and heartache rips at our faith.

He sees it all. He knows it all. Our darkness is as light to Him as when we walk with a spring in our step.

The apostle Paul might have been thinking of this Psalm when he wrote to the Romans (chapter 8): What shall separate us from God’s love? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or sword? . . . . Nothing shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is Christ Jesus our Lord.

Feelings wax and wan like the surf of the sea driven by the wind. But God’s promises are as stable and as sure as . . . well, as God Himself. No one who comes to Him is ever, ever turned away.

“Lord, help me in my unbelief. Place your hand on me and draw my heart to yours. I want to trust you, despite my circumstances. Forgive my anger toward you, my disappointment and my stubbornness. Create in me a clean heart, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. For the sake of Jesus, I pray. Amen.”

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 8:40 AM 0 comments

Monday, October 10, 2005
Clay Pots and Miracles

"I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.” (Matthew 17:20)

It's not that I don't understand the Lord's mustard seed analogy. I do. God uses our faith, no matter how small, to do great things. Even move mountains. But I have difficulty identifying with a seed. Mustard, oak -- or redwood, they're all the same to me.

Gideon, on the other hand -- now there's an illustration of small faith I can set roots into. You can read about it in Judges, chapter 6.

For seven fear-filled years, the Midianites spread terror across Israel. Bands of marauders ravaged villages, slaughtered men, women and children and stole their livestock. During sowing season, they swooped across the land, destroying Israel's budding crops. They returned during harvest to take everything their earlier plunder missed. Israelites lived like hunted animals, hiding in caves and along cliffs. What wheat they could harvest in secret, they had to thresh and eat in secret -- always looking over their shoulders, jumping with fear at every gust of wind or snap of a branch.

Gideon was one of those Israelites. One day, as he threshed his meager wheat harvest in a wine press, an angel appeared and called out, "The Lord is with you, O valiant warrior" (Judges 6:12).

If Gideon was like me, he hardly paid attention to the divine messenger. The "valiant warrior" believed God had abandoned him to a hopeless destiny. He, and all Israel, had nothing to look forward to except fearing for their lives with each sunrise and sunset. "Valiant warrior?" he probably thought to himself. "Yeah, right. So why am I hiding in this wine press?"

Putting his thoughts into words, he turned to the angel and challenged, "If the Lord is with us, why has all this happened to us?" A moment later he added, "And where are the miracles we've heard about all our lives?"

Gideon finished his complaint and returned to threshing wheat. The angel, undaunted by Gideon's skepticism, answered, "Go in this your faith, and deliver Israel."

I suppose Gideon laughed aloud. What faith? Israel had nothing more lethal than pitchforks and clubs. How could they defeat an enemy equipped with the latest weapons technology? Talk about moving mountains. Either the divine being just didn't get it -- or he knew something Gideon didn't. Either the angel enjoyed toying with him, or he saw a mustard-seed faith buried within Gideon where only the Spirit of God could see.

If you read the story, you know how it ends. Gideon needed several more "proofs" that God was with him, but eventually -- armed with nothing more than clay pots, torches and a dash of faith -- he won a miraculous victory for the Lord and for Israel.

What desperate problems do we struggle against? What Midianites rob us of hope? What do they call themselves? Illness? Unemployment? Divorce? Loss? It's time we step away from the wine press and move into the open. No longer need we shrink from shadows and jump at every snap of a branch. God is with us. Always. And if we listen carefully, we will hear Him say to us, "The Lord is with you, O valiant warrior." Whether our faith is as small as a mustard-seed . . . or smaller, God says it again and again, "Go in this your strength and defeat your enemy."

He will use our clay pots and torches to help us win back our land.

end
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:38 AM 0 comments

Thursday, October 06, 2005
The Real Enemy

I don't know if the Hollywood version of the battle is true, but the story makes for an interesting spiritual parallel. Tobruk, Libya's north-eastern port city, saw many prolonged and bloody battles during World War II. German troops and their Italian allies recognized the value of its strategic location. So did the British.

During the height of the war, Allied commandos set out across 800 miles of Libyan desert to destroy the German fuel-depot at Tobruk. Several nights into their mission they spotted a dust plume on the horizon. It belonged to an Italian convoy wending its way toward them. Fortunately for the Allies, a large sand-dune hid them from the enemy column. Without safe alternatives, they settled down to wait for the Italians to pass. However,when the convoy reached the other side of the dune, the Italian army stopped their tanks and set up camp for the night. The commandos could do nothing but wait for day-break when the Italians would continue on their way.

The night wore on without incident until commando scouts spotted another string of armored vehicles moving toward them from the opposite direction. This one belonged to Germans.

Caught in the middle, it was only a matter of time before one group or the other discovered them. In desperation, the commandos executed a daring plan. They fired mortars toward the Germans, while at the same time, fired across the sand dune at the Italians. The commandos hoped each army would think the other fired on them. The plan worked. Within moments the Germans and Italians, their identities hidden by the dark, rained destruction on each other. In the conflagration, the commandos escaped into the night. A few days later, the fuel farm at Tobruk exploded in flames. The small band of warriors successfully completed their mission.

Scripture repeatedly makes the point, probably so we won't miss it: humankind is engaged in a bloody spiritual warfare waged by an enemy whose mission is to destroy us. The only force able to thwart Satan from completing his objective is Jesus Christ's Church -- His Body (Matthew 16:18; Ephesians 6:10-18).

Knowing the Church is an overwhelmingly superior force, Satan has, for millennia, executed a nearly flawless strategy against it. Rather than a direct frontal attack, he hides in darkness, firing volleys of bigotry, pride, arrogance and greed at groups within Christ's Body. Catholics, Baptists, Orthodox, Pentecostals, Methodists, Episcopalians, Lutherans, Nazarenes . . . . Group A, thinking the attack comes from Group B, diverts its energies from the Great Commission and wages battle against their allies. Meanwhile, group B does likewise and groups C through Z soon enter the fray. Before long the Church is embroiled in a seething cauldron, devouring each other -- and freeing Satan to move on toward his ultimate objective.

When the Germans and Italians surrounded them, no one among the small group of commandos cared about the race, political philosophy or denominational label of the person in the next foxhole. Only one thing mattered: work as a team to win the objective.

The Lord of the Church has called us to win our neighbors, friends and co-workers for Himself -- a critical objective if there ever was one. Our mission requires the undivided efforts of everyone on Christ's "team." May God help us to turn our weapons away from each other and take aim against the true adversary.

end

posted by rich 9:15 PM 2 comments

Thursday, September 29, 2005
Oxen, Donkeys -- and Me?

At first I ignored him. My mind focused on too many other things as I walked along the street: The crisp wind biting through my Navy Dress Blue uniform, my son's graduation from navy Boot Camp, my scheduled flight back to San Diego in two days. Little wonder I hardly noticed the new recruit suddenly snap to attention and salute. Besides, no one salutes an naval officer a block and a half down the street.

But when I looked up, he was still there -- frozen at attention. I suddenly realized he was waiting for me to return the salute.

He was not the only recruit at Great Lakes Recruit Training Command to go out of his way to salute me. Everywhere I went -- the food court, the barracks, the Shopette -- young men and women nearly fell over themselves to render the military courtesy.

Over the next two days, as I watched groups of novice sailors march to a cadence-call, double-time to chow or stroll with their families visiting for graduation, I realized how different things are in the "real" navy. I knew from experience that some of those salute-happy recruits would -- in only a few short months -- become careless about what they learned in boot camp. Instead of snapping a salute, they will cross the street to avoid rendering the courtesy. Instead of standing to their feet when an officer enters the room, they will avert their eyes and pretend no one is there.

As I silently (and a little pompously) lamented how some of those young men and women would lose their zeal for military discipline, my mind took an unexpected turn.

As new Christians, when we first meet the King of kings and Commander of commanders, many of us nearly fall over ourselves trying to honor Him and render the respect He is due. We are careful to stifle old habits of flippantly using His Name. We are attentive to our choice of clothing and entertainment. We force ourselves to be honest in our relationships with others. We devour the Scriptures in daily study.

Then, somehow, "real" life takes its toll and some of us grow careless. The awesome becomes trite, the magnificent trivial. Our sense of holy respect dulls to casual regard. When once we were embarrassed at the thought of personal sin, now we invent excuses for our behavior. When once we were quick to listen for His voice, now we find it deceptively easy to cross the street and pretend He is not there.

Such carelessness before the Almighty knows no particular era. I am reminded of the Lord's lament through the Old Testament prophet, "An ox knows its owner, and a donkey its master's manger . . . .but my people do not understand" (Isaiah 1:3). As I observed the new recruits, I wondered how much I understand.

The passion of those young sailors for military courtesy reminded me of something I periodically forget: I am not my own. I am bought with a price (1 Corinthians 6:19,20). And as I returned salute after salute, I realized it was time for me, once again, to snap to attention and renew my own passion, holy respect and awe for my Owner. It was time to recommit myself to honor Him each day with the work of my hands, the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart.

God, help me. God, help us.

rich

posted by rich 8:47 PM 2 comments

Saturday, September 24, 2005
A Date With My Lord

Thirty years. That's how long I'd known the church is Christ's Bride, and that God is preparing her to join her Groom at the marriage feast in heaven (Revelation 19:7-9 and Ephesians 5:25-32). I'd heard it in sermons, read it in books, sung it in hymns and studied it in Scripture.

And for thirty years I missed the ineffable wonder cradled within that Biblical imagery. In my haste to acquire knowledge of His word, I never understood, on a deeply intimate and profoundly personal level, His unshakeable love for me. Not only will the Church meet her Groom, but because I'm part of the Church, I will meet my Groom.

If only I could do it over again, I'd pay much closer attention to that incredible promise. I will be forever joined to my Spouse. What unspeakable comfort and hope-filled anticipation resonates from that assurance.

But though I missed His promise for three decades, God's patience endured. That's why, in early 2003, the Navy send me overseas for temporary duty. Uncle Sam thought the order was his idea. To this day, I know it was God's.

Sorrow lingered above our heads as my wife helped pack my bags. We drove in near silence to the airport, kissed goodbye, and I boarded the plane. Two days later, I settled into my new home-away-from-home with several roommates. God used one of them, Jeff, to transform what was once a superficial -- almost "ho-hum" -- understanding of my betrothal to the Groom into a palpable sense of the Divine.

The evening it happened, as I prepared to attend Mass at the military chapel, I changed from cutoffs and a T-shirt into a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt. When I headed for the front door, Jeff looked up from the television and joked, "Hey, you goin' on a date?"

I grinned and shook my head. "No," I said. "I'm going to church."

But before I stepped across the threshold the Holy Spirit echoed Jeff's question, and in a moment frozen in my memory, a wave of understanding surged through me. Yes, I was going on a date. I was stepping out to meet my Bridegroom.

Scripture assures those who serve Christ that He is always with them. By faith, I accept His promise that He never leaves my side (Matthew 28:20, Psalm 139). Scripture also assures me (John 6:53-57) that when I take Holy Communion, I meet the Lover of my soul in an intimate, solemn, and sacred ceremony. His Body and Blood, transformed from bread and wine, nourish my spirit in a way I do not understand, and probably never will. But neither do I understand any of the mysteries of our faith. How I can be born again when I am old? (John 3:4) How did God empty Himself and become flesh? (Philippians 2:6-8) How could a virgin conceive and bear a Son? (Luke 1:26-35)

"Going on a date?" Now it was I who echoed Jeff's question to myself, and another followed close behind: Twenty-eight years ago, when I first met Nancy, would I have taken her any place where men and women dressed immodestly -- some might call it seductively? Never! I would have been embarrassed for her and for myself.

If my thoughts could have taken on physical substance and projected onto a stage, would I have invited Nancy to join me in images my mind created from scenes I read in books? No way. I wouldn't want anyone to know what my mind lusted after.

When Nancy and I dated, I protected her as I would a delicate and precious flower. I avoided taking her places I thought might offend her. When I walked with her along the street and temptation called me from the side, I forced my gaze straight ahead so she wouldn't have reason to doubt my devotion. I wanted her to know I loved her presence, her touch, her smile -- and no one else could take her place in my heart.

And then the Holy Spirit connected the dots. When I recognized the pattern they formed, I wanted to fall on my face in shame.

Why am I not as careful with my beloved Jesus? Why do I take Him places where my gaze flirts with the right and the left? Why do I read books or sit before the television and fill my thoughts with images glorifying the things for which my Groom died? Why don't I guard my relationship with my Betrothed as I would a precious flower? Why am I not careful to let Him know by my actions and thoughts that I love His presence, His touch, His smile -- and nothing could take His place in my heart?

As I drove to church, knowing I was about to meet my Spouse in Holy Communion, remorse settled in my throat and I lifted my gaze toward heaven. "Lord," I whispered, "Never let me forget You are always with me. You see what I see, hear what I hear -- with my eyes and ears, or in my fantasies. Lord, I want so much to have pure and spotless garments on the day of our wedding"

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 4:10 PM 3 comments

Monday, September 19, 2005
Let There Be . . . . And It Is So

“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. And the earth was formless and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And God said . . . ."

It's easy to move quickly past this text and miss the personal application. "In the beginning" takes us back to the time before there was a beginning of time, when chaos reigned. And darkness. And emptiness.

Perhaps you know the feeling -- Chaos. Darkness. Emptiness.

I sure do. I’ve looked often enough at my private chaos swirl around me. I searched in vain to stand on something solid in the midst of a roiling cauldron. I desperately sought safety, but darkness overwhelmed me.

Yet, in retrospect, I now believe that’s a good place to be – surrounded by confusion and emptiness. Why? Because it's there, when our resources have shriveled up, we are more likely to do what we should have done in the beginning -- stand still, quiet ourselves and hear God say, “Let there be light. And peace. And fullness”

And it is so.

He has never failed me. He will never fail any of His children, born through the Cross.

"Lord, your lovingkindness is new every morning. Great is thy faithfulness."

amen

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:38 PM 0 comments

Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Don't Leave Home Without Him

I never knew I had an anterior cruciate ligament; at least, not until the last inning of our softball game. I received my lesson in human anatomy as I rounded third and sprinted toward the plate. Half-way down the third base line my right knee popped. I thought an unseen hand had ripped my leg in two. I tumbled to the dirt and for a few moments lay there, hurting too much to move.

When I visited the surgeon, he suggested we wait a few more days for the swelling to subside before repairing my injury. He sent me home with a set of crutches.

The anterior cruciate ligament -- also known as the ACL -- is a band of tissue located behind the knee. It's chief purpose is to stabilize the top of the leg together with the bottom. If the ACL tears, the knee can shift out of position during such normal activities as walking or running.

I didn't like using the crutches. I felt uncoordinated as I hobbled down the sidewalk. Maneurvering from the living room to the kitchen was more trouble than it was worth, and climbing stairs was out of the question. Within two hours of returning home, I put the crutches aside.

"I don't need these things," I groused before going to bed. "I can get by just fine without ‘em."

Next morning I crawled out from under the covers and stood carefully at the bedside, testing my knee. It felt sore, but nothing I couldn't handle. I showered, dressed and wolfed down my breakfast. I ignored the crutches as I walked out the door.

Then I stepped off the sidewalk, and my knee buckled. If my car hadn't broken my fall, I'd have ended up rolling on the ground in agony. A few minutes later, I hobbled back into the house and retrieved my crutches.

Over the last thirty-some-odd years, as I've shared my faith in Christ with others, I've heard the refrain so often -- "Religion is a crutch" -- I wonder if it isn't subliminally scripted into our subconscious. What people most often mean is, "Believing in Almighty God is no different than being weak and dependent on something."

Coming from the lips of men and women whose spiritual injuries sometimes defy description, I shake my head in bewilderment. In the face of overwhelming hardship, death of loved ones, illness, loneliness, some people stubbornly cling to their pride and walk out the door without support. Others, hobbled by crippling disabilities as drunkenness, drug addiction, sexual lusts, lies, or any number of spiritual injuries, still crow, "I don't need crutches. I can get by fine without ‘em."

God promised through the prophet, "Even to your old age, I shall be the same, and even to your graying years I shall bear you. I have done it, and I shall carry you . . . (Isaiah 46:4). And through the Psalmist, "The Lord sustains all who fall, and raises up all who are bowed down" (Psalm 145:14).

I've learned (and still need a reminder now and then) it's good to have Someone to lean on. The game changes too quickly. One moment I am sprinting toward home, the next, I am writhing in the dirt eating my pride.

I am not ashamed to admit it. I need a crutch. I need Christ's strong hand of support and soft words of comfort. I need a rock upon which to stand and a Savior to hold me fast.

No one should leave home without Him.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 8:35 PM 0 comments

Sunday, September 11, 2005
Dirty Pennies, Spotless Crowns
I’m not sure why I bothered to pick up the penny from the dirt along the curb. I don’t usually waste energy troubling myself for pennies. Perhaps I stopped because I needed to catch my breath. Heat shimmered off the asphalt in the mid-day sun and my sweat-soaked T-shirt clung like a second skin. Only 20 minutes into my jog and I felt like collapsing onto the nearest shaded lawn.

Whatever the reason, I held the coin until I returned home and tossed it onto the table by the front door. By the time I’d pulled off my running shoes, it had slipped from my mind. I didn’t know God was about to use that near-valueless coin to teach me a valuable lesson in spiritual investments.

That evening I opened the Scriptures and turned to the place I’d left off the day before. My eyes skimmed the familiar verses of 1 Corinthians 5 and moved across the page to chapter 6. Then verse 9:

“Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor male prostitutes nor homosexual offenders nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God” (1 Corinthians 6:9-10).

Talk about dirty pennies. Some of the men and women living in Corinth were rolling around in the dung-heap of life. It would be easy to conclude no one -- especially
God -- would waste the energy to pick them out of the muck.

That would be a wrong conclusion. The next verse continues, “And that is what some of you were. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God” (1 Corinthians 6:11).

God is in the business of transforming dirty coins into spotless crowns, and history overflows with examples. Saul is one. The first century religious zealot burned with murderous rage against Christians. He hated their worship, loathed their gatherings and despised their Messiah. He dragged followers of Christ from their homes and tossed them into rat-infested dungeons. When a mob gathered to murder one of Christ’s disciples, Saul stood by and watched with approval.

Then Saul -- better known as Paul -- met Christ, and the persecutor became the apostle. The one who tried to destroy the Christian faith now proclaimed it as mankind’s only hope for peace, forgiveness and eternal life. Nearly one half of the New Testament came from his pen and untold millions of men and women have experienced life-transformation because of his letters of challenge, comfort, warning and exhortation.

John Newton is another example. An 18th century slave-trader, Newton packed human cargo into the bowels of his ship bound for the Americas. Many of the slaves, half-starved and surrounded by human waste and disease, died en route. Newton, however, considered the loss merely an unfortunate business expense.

Then Christ grabbed hold of him and Newton devoted himself to serve the One he’d so long rejected. Christians around the world -- many of whom are descendants of Newton’s slaves -- still sing hymns the former slave-trader wrote to honor Christ. You might recognize the words to one of those hymns:

“Amazing grace/how sweet the sound/that saved a wretch like me/I once was lost, but now am found/was blind, but now I see.”

Dr. Bernard Nathanson is one more illustration of God’s mercy. Perhaps the most infamous champion of abortion rights during the 1960's and early 1970's, Nathanson co-founded the National Abortion Rights Action League in 1968 and performed or supervised more than 60,000 abortions. Nearly single-handedly, he helped shape the political and social landscape that made the 1973 Roe v. Wade decision possible.

But even he was not so deeply mired in sin’s quagmire that God did not reach into the gutter and pick him up. Nathanson turned his life over to Christ and, though he can never undo the horror he helped create, he now devotes himself to protect the unborn from the fate he brought to others.

I doubt I will ever understand the richness of God’s unfailing and unconditional love. Like the Prodigal’s Father in Luke 15, God scans the horizon and looks for those lost in life’s decay. No sparrow is so fallen, no coin so lost, no sheep so wayward that the heavenly Father won’t bend down, pick them up and carry them in his hand. Murderers, drunkards, adulterers, blasphemers . . . . the Church is full of the evidence of changed lives.

But that should surprise no one. Where else but in God’s hands can dirty pennies become spotless crowns?

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:11 PM 0 comments

Friday, September 09, 2005
A Lingering Sadness

Has it really been 37 years since I killed my baby? It seems like only last week. I can tell you what my girlfriend wore when I drove her to the clinic, where I parked the car, how many dimes I dropped into the parking meter . . . .

I was 17. Judith, 19. Both of us, I convinced myself, were too young to bear the responsibilities of a baby.

"What do you mean, you're pregnant?" I asked when she returned from the physician's office.

I knew she expected me to propose marriage. Instead, I talked her into having an abortion.

It was easy to suggest that. I chose to believe our baby was only a glob of cells growing in her womb. I chose to believe Judith had the right to choose what to do with her own body and every baby should be a wanted baby. I embraced every excuse I’d ever heard because each one freed me of my obligation to Judith and to our child. A few months after the abortion, my girlfriend and I went our separate ways.

My son or daughter would now be thirty-seven years old. Perhaps he would be a teacher. Or a physician. Or a missionary. Or a . . . . Perhaps I would be a grandfather.

But there is no "perhaps." Time doesn't turn backwards.

Abortion is more than a “rights” issue. It holds enduring emotional and spiritual implications for those of us who, too late, awakened to the lies and excuses that over-ruled our conscience. And rhetoric doesn't purge the lingering sadness thirty-seven years later. However, I have found something which eases that sorrow.

Four years after the abortion, a friend gave me a Bible and told me about the new life I could have in Jesus Christ. As I leafed through its pages, one verse in particular grabbed my attention, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). That I was a sinner came as no surprise to me. Having lived a life of rebellion, drug abuse and sexual immorality, no one needed to tell me my life was a mess. But the Scripture also promised I could be forgiven . . . not just for my everyday rebellion, but also for killing my child.

“Come now,” God urged through the prophet Isaiah,“ let us reason together. Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool” (Isaiah 1:18). The apostle John wrote, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness” (I John 1:9).

As the weeks passed and I continued studying the Scriptures, I began to understand knew what I needed to do. One evening, dropping to my knees at the foot of my bed, I confessed my sins to God and repented for as many as I could remember. When I stood, I did so as a new person in Christ. Although the sad memories remained, I knew God had forgiven me for everything I had ever done . . . even for delivering my baby to the abortionist.

Are you planning to have an abortion? Before you do, please counsel with someone who CARES about you and your unborn child. Save yourself the lingering sadness which can last decades into the future. Help is available. Nearly every phone book in the country lists Crisis Pregnancy Centers and other alternatives to abortion services. Many churches will also assist you, financially and emotionally.

Have you had an abortion? Has your girlfriend had one at your insistence? Hope and comfort is not beyond your reach. The same God who forgave me will also forgive you. He assures us of that through Scripture. Everyone who repents and turns to Him for mercy will find His grace as great and far-reaching as His love. We can trust Him to keep His word.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 12:25 AM 0 comments

Saturday, September 03, 2005
The Awakening

A foreboding pressure - like an ominous presence - spread over me. It pressed across my chest and abdomen, suffocating me. I tried to push it away, but my arms wouldn't move. I wanted to scream, but couldn't open my mouth. I heaved, trying to force air through my lips. But my body refused to respond. Again, and again, until terror overwhelmed me. In a final, frantic lunge, I exploded with a shattering, guttural cry.

That woke me.

It took a while to fall back to sleep, but when I did, my thoughts careened in disconnected, agitated images. I pushed through narrowing caverns of dirt-ribbed passageways and corridors. I searched for an unknown person in danger deep within the caverns. Each turn through passageways seemed more torturous than the last. I squeezed sideways and pressed through tightening walls. Gossamer objects floated in and out of my dream-state: Cylinders. A sarcophagus. Long, narrow tubes. Closets.

Suddenly, my eyes opened. I looked at the clock. 6:10 a.m. I was grateful for the morning. I stayed in bed until my breathing slowed.

When I finally stumbled into the living room for my usual start-the-day time with Jesus, I slipped a CD into the player, put on earphones and tried to lose myself in worship. But the night terrors lingered in the back of my mind.

Then I recognized a spiritual parallel.

For some of us, life is like a nightmare from which we can't awaken. Loved ones fall seriously ill and, despite our prayers, suffer and die. Families shatter. Victories appear just beyond our reach on an ever-expanding horizon. We search in darkness for those we love, but can't find them. We press forward into entombing walls that close tighter against us, locking our arms and knees to unyielding rock. Claustrophobia rises in our throat. We try calling for help, but can't force air past our lips.

And then, like awakening from a bad dream, God's light explodes through our darkness. The Holy Spirit illuminates His assurance as we read a passage of Scripture, hear a hymn, or someone speaks God's word to us. In that moment, the Promise becomes tangible. The Holy Spirit whispers, "Eye has not seen, nor ear heard . . the things which God has prepared for those who love Him." Our spiritual ears grab hold of the Father's vow, "Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning."(Psalms 30:5)

Oh, how I long for the morning and -- ultimately -- the Trumpet, when our eyes open to see Him clothed in pulsating light. We will rise from this earthly slumber more awake than ever, and in the presence of boundless, fathomless eternity. Sorrow, confusion and terror will have fled forever from the splendor of His glory.

No wonder our spirits sometimes cry with the Apostle's, "Maranatha. Come Lord Jesus."

Oh, Lord, awaken us to your glory.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 7:57 PM 0 comments

Thursday, September 01, 2005
Reason To Boast?
"James, a bond-servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ . . . ." James 1:1

Some people wear their self-importance on their shirt-sleeve. They name drop, trying to jockey for favored position by virtue of their relationship to important people. Others push their weight around by flaunting their job titles.

The New Testament identifies three men named James: the brother of John, son of Zebedee (Mark 3:17), James the Less (Mark 15:40), and James, the Lord’s "brother" -early Church history identifies him as either Jesus' step-brother or cousin --(Matthew 13:55, Acts 15:13). Bible scholars generally agree James, the step-brother of Jesus, authored this letter. It is a point well worth considering because James has much to teach us about humility.

Perhaps more than anyone else, James could have pushed his weight around. After all, if Jesus had been my step-brother or cousin, I might have done exactly that. The temptation to let others know of my family ties with Christ so that I might gain political, social and religious advantage might have overwhelmed my better sense. But James kept his sense. He simply called himself a bond-servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ. James knew that apart from God’s grace, he would not even own a shirt-sleeve.

Lord Jesus, help us to remember the Cross above all else, and the Crucified One above our very lives. “Not to us, O Lord, not to us but to your name be the glory” (Psalm 115:1).

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:36 PM 0 comments

Monday, August 29, 2005
Hallowed Be Thy Name

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name . . . "

A modern version might read: “Father in heaven, your Name is sacred. Holy. Revered.”

I prefer to recite that first line of the Lord’s Prayer in modern terms. Doing so helps me focus on what I am really saying -- and how, therefore, I should be acting.

When the ancient Jewish scribes copied the Scriptures from parchment to parchment, they always stopped at the name of God, changed quills, changed their clothes and washed themselves before daring to write His Name. They considered His Name so holy, and so fearful were they of misusing His Name, they wouldn't use all the letters to spell it. An English example might be: Gd. Or Jsus.

"Hallowed, sacred and revered is Thy Name." How can I use His Name in flippant conversation? Or in a joke? Or as an expletive? How can I refer to Him as "the Man upstairs"?

As a Christian – a follower of Christ -- I bear His Name wherever I go. People who know of my faith have the right to associate His holy Name with me. More to the point, I might be the only reflection of His sacred Name they ever see.

And that ought to frighten me. It ought to frighten all of God’s children.

May God grant each of us in the Church a glimpse into His holiness, that it may inspire awe and a deep reverence for His Name. May He help us live lifestyles that reflect His holiness and sacredness, and to never give others reason to mock or sneer at His Name.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 11:14 PM 0 comments

Saturday, August 27, 2005
Precious In His Sight
Look at the swirls along your fingertips. No one has the same pattern. Each set marks us as unique individuals.

But if recent surveys are true, many people don’t think they're unique. They believe they are little more than misplaced commas in the Novel of Life. Their existence adds nothing to the story line. Why else would more than 30 thousand people in the United States alone commit suicide each year -- one person every 20 minutes? Why do another 400 thousand make unsuccessful attempts?

Perhaps this wide-spread sense of poor self-esteem is best illustrated in one of Gary Larson’s Far Side cartoons. Larson draws a group of insects gathered at a party and one beetle laments to another, “Think about it, Ed. The class Insecta contains 26 orders, almost 1,000 families, and over 750,000 described species. But I can’t shake the feeling we’re all just a bunch of bugs.”

I think Larson hits a raw nerve for some people. The species Homo Sapiens (human beings) contains six billion members who belong to hundreds of cultures and ethnic groups. We laugh, love, cry, create. Yet, judging from the numbers of shattered lives and broken homes among us -- too many of us think of ourselves as insignificant creatures without purpose.

But are we really little more than a bunch of bugs? Do we have purpose? These are easy questions if you know where to look for the answers.

God created us in His image and, in so doing, declared we are not just a bunch of bugs. We are His special creation. He deeply loves each one of us. If it were not so, John 3:16 would have never entered into human history: God loved the world so much --- all six billion of us -- that He sacrificed His Son that you and I could have hope, purpose and eternal life. If this is not so, then the rest of Scripture’s assurances, such as these few which follow, are worthless:

“Are not five sparrows sold for two cents? And yet not one of them is forgotten before God. Indeed the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear; you are of more value than many sparrows” (Luke 12:6, 7).

“For high as the heavens are above the earth, so great in His lovingkindness toward those who fear Him” (Psalm 103:11).

“Can a woman forget her nursing child, and have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, but I will not forget you. Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands” (Isaiah 49:15, 16).

Scripture’s declaration, repeated hundreds of times throughout God’s word, leaps off the pages: We are precious in God’s eyes and He longs to gather each of us to Himself.

The point? Isn’t it time to turn our backs on thoughts and philosophies which rob us of our rightful heritage? Isn’t it time to stop living like bugs, turn to Christ and start living like a child of God?

“Come,” Christ invites, “all you who are weary and burdened . . . and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:25).

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 8:33 AM 0 comments

Tuesday, August 23, 2005
God of the Hills, Plains . . . and Eternity

The ancient Syrian army made a fatal mistake. Israel had beaten them in battle, and the Syrians assumed it was because Israel’s God was centered in the hills on which they fought.

“But if we fight them on the plains,” they reasoned, “surely we will be stronger than they. Do this . . . raise an army like the one you lost - horse for horse and chariot for chariot - so we can fight Israel on the plains. Then surely we will be stronger than they" (1 Kings 20:23-25)

And that was their problem. They thought Israel’s god was bound to a piece of real estate. They soon learned their error.

I suppose it’s easy to point the finger at the Syrians and snicker that anyone could think God is so small and limited. And yet, I act like the ancient Syrians more often than I like to think I do.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said to myself, “God answered my prayers in the past, but I’m not sure He will do it again.” In other words, God is the God of the then, but not the now -- or the tomorrow.

I've said, “God forgave me that sin before, but I can’t believe He’ll do it again.” In other words, God limits His forgiveness to a fixed number – once, a dozen, three dozen. And then the axe falls.

Or, “God took care of us when I was working, but now that I'm getting ready to retire, I wonder how we will live.” In other words, God has to ration His limited resources to adequately take care of all His children.

What nonsense.

The Syrians made a fatal mistake when they believed Israel’s God was limited to a small parcel of geography. Let’s not make the same error. He is not bound by time, geography or distance. And just as important, His power and compassion are the same yesterday, today and forever.

Prayer: Lord, Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me," even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you. (Psalm 139

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:39 PM 1 comments

Saturday, August 20, 2005
An Hour is not Enough

The Lord Jesus once asked His slumbering disciples, “Could you not watch with me for an hour?“ And for 30 years of my walk with the Savior, I wondered how anyone could spend an hour watching in prayer. I got distracted within the first five minutes. And then I discovered a way to grow in my intimacy with Christ. I call it the “Worship-Word-CROSS” Hour.

Here’s a brief synopsis of what I do:

1. I snap a worship CD into the player, stick earphones into my ears and listen to songs which address the Lord as “You” (instead of ”He”). For example, I chose lyrics along the lines of, “You are wonderful and glorified,” instead of “He is wonderful and glorified.” When lyrics are in the second person instead of the third, I can more readily sing in my mind the lyrics as my prayers.

2. Next, I read two chapters of Scripture. I keep a journal handy so if the Holy Spirit gives me insight about a particular verse I can write it down. Two chapters of Scripture in the morning and two at night will bring you through the Bible in a year. Because the NT is shorter than the OT, my pattern gets me through the NT three times each year and the OT once.

3. I spend the next 20-30 minutes in prayer. I developed an acrostic --CROSS -- to keep me on track when I get distracted:

C— I meditate a few minutes on the crucifixion. For example, what did the cross accomplished for me? How did my sins cause His agony and death?

R— I meditate on the resurrection. How does the empty tomb validate Christ’s message? What promise does His resurrection hold for me, when I die?

O— I meditate on the “Our Father” (the Lord’s Prayer—Matthew 6). I pause at each verse, sometimes each word or sentence. What does “Our Father” mean? Who are my brothers and sisters? My thoughts take me across the world, to places such as Sudan, Saudi Arabia and Iran where Christians are persecuted, raped, tortured, imprisoned for no other reason than their faith in Christ. What can I do for them?

“Hallowed (sacred) is thy name” – Have I forgotten the holiness of God? Do I misuse His name? Do I live in such as way as to give unbelievers reason to sneer at His name?

I move through the rest of the prayer in similar fashion.

S— is for supplication. Here I pray for others . . . family, friends, neighbors, coworkers, politicians . . . whoever the Holy Spirit brings to mind.

S— is for sacrifice. I offer myself as a living sacrifice. I ask Him to take my memory, my freedom, will, understanding, health, wealth, talents -- everything I have and cherish -- and to use them for His honor.

Sometimes I vary my time in prayer by reading a psalm or two, meditating on the words and verses of prayers David and others wrote millennia ago. Sometimes I read the prayers of saints of the church, such as Augustine, Ignatius of Loyola, Brother Lawrence and A. W. Tozer.

Since I started using this pattern more than two years ago, the Holy Spirit uses song, scripture and prayer to draw me deeper into the arms of Jesus. I often discover an hour is not enough.

Determine to set aside your own hour for song, scripture and prayer. Persevere in your plan to seek intimacy with Christ. When He woos you to Himself, you also will discover an hour is not enough.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 4:53 PM 0 comments

Wednesday, August 17, 2005
The Other Side of the Door
As our home Bible study wound to a close, a young women ran out to her car for a package she’d forgotten. She left her two-year-old daughter, Berea, with half a dozen adults and children in the living room. But when Berea saw Mommy leave the house, her eyes widened in panic. She ran to the closed door, stretched in vain for the knob and screamed for her mother. Her cry was laden with terror, as if she believed Mommy would never to return.

One of the women lifted Berea into her arms and tried to calm her. But it was no use. The toddler wanted no one but Mommy, and she was gone.

Of course, a few moments later, the mother returned. When she opened the door and saw her daughter’s inconsolable grief, she lifted Berea into her arms, rubbed her back and spoke tenderly into her ear. I smiled as I watched the child quickly settle down. Mommy had returned. Berea was not alone.

The next morning as I spent time with the Lord in contemplation and prayer, my thoughts drifted back to that scene. My memory replayed the pitiable image of Berea screaming for her mother, and a sobering thought spread through my meditation: What must it be like for those who rejected Christ all their lives and then find themselves on the other side of death's door -- knowing with horrifying certainty -- Father has left, and is never coming back?

Never coming back.

I cannot imagine the relentless mourning, the inconsolable grief and unyielding anguish of those who know they will remain on the other side of the door.

Forever.

The good news, however, is it doesn’t have to be that way. The ancient Hebrew prophet proclaimed, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; Upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone.” (Isaiah 9:1)

Those who love Jesus, who serve Him and call Him their Savior can rest in Isaiah’s prophecy and in Christ’s promise: "Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me. In my Father's house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be.” (St. John 14:1-3)

Forever can be a good place if we’re on the right side of the door.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:30 PM 0 comments

Monday, August 15, 2005
Because We Are . . .

“And the tempter came and said to Him, ‘If You are the Son of God, command that these stones become bread . . . If You are the Son of God, throw yourself down (from the temple’s roof)’ ” (Matthew 4:3-6).


“If You are . . . ." Satan knew perfectly well Jesus was the Son of God. The visits of the angel to Elizabeth and Zechariah, to Mary, and the shepherds in the field did not escape the Tempter’s notice. That’s why he incited Herod to kill Jesus.

Some argue the devil hoped to trick Jesus into using His supernatural powers to benefit Himself, and short-circuit the Father’s plan of redemption. Perhaps they are right. But I wonder if Satan might have had an additional purpose. If he could cause Christ to doubt -- even for a moment -- who He was and to Whom He belonged, would that have sidetracked the Father’s plan of redemption? Though it’s a rhetorical question, it carries a weighty spiritual application for you and me.

“If you really are a child of God . . . .” How often has the Tempter suggested something similar to us? A bazillion times, probably. And why not? If he tried that tactic to pull Jesus off track, we can expect him to try the same with us.

Satan knows perfectly well that we repented of our sins and now belong to God. That’s not the issue for Satan. Our relationship with the Father is not in question. But – and this is critical -- if the Tempter can cause us to question our relationship, he’ll take immediate advantage of that chink in our spiritual armor.

“If you are.” So, how should we respond to the implied accusation? With God’s word.

For example: “But as many as received (Christ), to them He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who believe in His name” (John 1:12). And again, “You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:26). And yet again, “The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God” (Romans 8:16).

Scripture provides dozens of assurances that we belong to our heavenly Father, and Satan’s question is straight from the bowels of hell. What you and I need to answer is: whose words will we believe?

Prayer:
Lord, I am sorry for doubting I am your child. How that must hurt you when I question your unconditional love for me. I am sorry for giving greater audience to your enemy, than I give to you as You speak to me through the Word and those who faithfully teach it. Lord, renew my faith, that I might move mountains. Amen.
rich

posted by rich 6:08 PM 0 comments

Saturday, August 13, 2005
Too Late Have I Loved You

Here are prayers of two more Catholic saints, prayers that stir my heart each time I offer them to God.


The first was written by St. Ignatius of Loyola.

Lord Jesus Christ, take all my freedom, my memory,
my understanding, and my will. All that I have and
cherish you have given me.

I surrender it all to be guided by your will.
Your love and your grace are wealth enough for me.
Give me these, Lord Jesus, and I ask for nothing more.
Amen

---------------


And this one is from St Augustine. Does your heart yearn with the same sadness -- "Too late I have loved you"?

Too late have I loved you,
O Beauty so ancient,
O Beauty so new.
Too late have I loved you!

You were within me but I was outside myself,
and there I sought you!

In my weakness I ran after the beauty of the things you have made.
You were with me,
and I was not with you.
The things you have made kept me from you,
the things which would have no being
unless they existed in you!

You have called,
you have cried,
and you have pierced my deafness.
You have radiated forth,
you have shined out brightly,
and you have dispelled my blindness.
You have sent forth your fragrance,
and I have breathed it in,
and I long for you.
I have tasted you,
and I hunger and thirst for you.
You have touched me,
and I ardently desire your peace.
-----------------
As I wrote in the last post, I used to believe people who prayed scripted prayers were spiritually lazy and susceptible to theological error.

What arrogance I embraced to think so. My sincerest regret is that I spent more than three decades embracing such foolishness.

I found this site a short while ago. I intend to search it for additional prayers of holy men and women of God.


rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 3:18 PM 0 comments

Wednesday, August 10, 2005
How Little I've Known About Prayer
I used to believe people who prayed scripted prayers -- I called them “canned prayers” – missed a great God-given and Holy Spirit-led opportunity to reach the heart of God. In my arrogance, I associated scripted prayers with error-ridden theology, lazy faith and rote religion.

And then I stumbled upon some canned prayers, and my arrogance melted. Some of those prayers provide the most God-given and Holy Spirit-led opportunities to reach God’s heart that I’ve ever heard – certainly more than I usually prayed.

Here is one example. It is attributed to Pope Clement I:

----------------
Lord, I believe in you: increase my faith. I trust in you: strengthen my trust. I love you: let me love you more and more.

I am sorry for my sins: deepen my sorrow. I worship you as my first beginning, I long for you as my last end, I praise you as my constant helper, and call on you as my loving protector.

Guide me by your wisdom, correct me with your justice, comfort me with your mercy, protect me with your power.

I offer you, Lord, my thoughts to be fixed on you; my words to have you for their theme; my actions to reflect my love for you; my sufferings to be endured for your greater glory. I want to do what you ask of me: in the way you ask, for as long as you ask, because you ask it.

Lord, enlighten my understanding, strengthen my will, purify my heart, and make me holy. Help me to repent of my past sins and to resist temptation in the future. Help me to rise above my human weaknesses and to grow stronger as a Christian.

Let me love you, my Lord and my God, and see myself as I really am: a pilgrim in this world, a Christian called to respect and love all whose lives I touch, those under my authority, my friends and my enemies.

Help me to conquer anger with gentleness, greed by generosity, apathy by fervor. Help me to forget myself and reach out toward others. Make me prudent in planning, courageous in taking risks. Make me patient in suffering, unassuming in prosperity.

Keep me, Lord, attentive at prayer, temperate in food and drink, diligent in my work, firm in my good intentions. Let my conscience be clear, my conduct without fault, my speech blameless, my life well-ordered.

Put me on guard against my human weaknesses. Let me cherish your love for me, keep your law, and come at last to your salvation.

Teach me to realize that this world is passing, that my true future is the happiness of heaven, that life on earth is short, and the life to come eternal.

Help me to prepare for death with a proper fear of judgment, but a greater trust in your goodness. Lead me safely through death to the endless joy of heaven.

Grant this through Christ our Lord. Amen.
-----------------

I am so grateful the Lord is patient with my arrogance. In the past I've been quick to judge the prayers and devotion of another Man’s servant. Prayers such as Pope Clement's are among the most profound I’ve ever read. It has become one of my “canned” prayers.

In the next few days I will post additional scripted prayers I’ve learned to make my own. At some point soon I will also post what I’ve learned about praying through the Rosary.

I am astounded how little I’ve known about prayer.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 2:12 PM 2 comments

Sunday, August 07, 2005
Even Loops Have Purpose

“Make the tabernacle with ten curtains of finely twisted linen and blue, purple and scarlet yarn, with cherubim worked into them by a skilled craftsman. All the curtains are to be the same size-twenty-eight cubits long and four cubits wide” (Exodus 26:1-2)

I admit it. Reading through the chapters in Exodus which detail the construction of the Tabernacle is, well . . . mind-numbing. Loops and clasps, boards, sockets, pillars, almond blossoms, curtains, poles, pegs and hooks and bands and . . . .

It never seems to stop.

For a people who spent generations slogging through mud pits to make bricks for Pharaoh’s empire, such precision, such detail must have seemed burdensome.

Then I noticed something I’d not seen in my many times reading through these “better-than-a-sleeping-pill” chapters.

I noticed precision.

Every loop had its place. Every socket a reason. Every curtain and hammered blossom and length of thread and slice of wood a purpose.

Do you sometimes feel like you’re slogging through a meaningless existence? We spend our days fighting traffic, paying bills, washing dishes, punching time clocks. We wake up, go to work, return home, go to bed, wake up and start all over.

It never seems to stop.

But children of the almighty, omnipresent and omniscient Father can trust, as we live what might seem “sleeping-pill” monotony, every loop has its place. Every socket a reason.

The Tabernacle -- built of loops and sockets and wood and thread -- was the place God met His people. And our Father has not changed in the last several millenia. He still meets us, even as we slog through traffic jams, punching clocks, washing dishes.

If we wonder about that -- and I have at times -- perhaps we need to quiet ourselves long enough for His glory to have a chance to settle into our tabernacles.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 8:04 AM 0 comments

Thursday, August 04, 2005
Seeing and Hearing Are Not Enough
“Two other men, both criminals, were also led out with him to be executed. When they came to the place called the Skull, there they crucified him, along with the criminals--one on his right, the other on his left. Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing’ " (Luke 23:32-34).

It began with flogging. Roman soldiers fashioned a leather whip studded with small rocks and bone. Every blow against their backs ripped open new strips of skin. Their muscles and tendons quickly turned into a mass of quivering, bleeding flesh. Most prisoners died of shock and blood loss long before being nailed to the cross.

At the execution site, soldiers laid crosses on the ground and threw the men onto them. The seven-inch spikes hammered through their wrists and feet tore through exquisitely sensitive nerves. Electrifying pain exploded along their arms and legs.

As they hung between heaven and earth, breathing became an all-consuming struggle as gravity restricted their respiratory muscles. Each man had to push against his feet and flex his arms to breathe, but every movement intensified the strain on their ravaged nerves. Adding to their torment, each breath forced their backs against the splintered wood, reopening the raw wounds. Every breath, every movement, every moment on the cross only inflamed their anguish.

For hours they hung there. And for hours, the two thieves watched the One in the middle. They heard His groans, His complaint of thirst, His concern for His mother’s care, His prayer for his tormentors, and His cry, “Father, why have you forsaken me?”

Nothing escaped their notice.

But only one was changed -- and to that one, Jesus turned and promised, "I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise."

Fast-forward two thousand years. Each Sunday we see and hear the Lord. We see Him in the Eucharist. We hear Him in hymns, choruses and the homilies. He reminds us of His presence beside us in the liturgies, the furnishings, the prayers.

And some remain unmoved. And some are changed.

Lord, change me! May I never be too busy with my own suffering, self-righteousness and justification, anger and bitterness, to surrender myself and my sins to the Lordship of Jesus. Help me always be like the thief who repented. Amen.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:22 AM 0 comments

Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Perpetual Virgin?

When I first heard the Catholic doctrine of Mary’s perpetual virginity, I scratched my head. How could anyone who knows the Bible believe that? The New Testament mentions Jesus’ brothers and sisters on several occasions. Matthew 12:46, Mark 3:31-34, Luke 8:19-20 and John 2:12 are just four examples.

So, before I joined the Catholic Church, I figured I’d better do some research. No sense committing myself to a Christian body of believers if I think some of their ideas are, as some might say, “whacked.”

In my study, I learned a few things. First, it’s not that Catholics don’t know about those passages. Like other Christians who follow a liturgical calendar of Scripture (e.g. Orthodox, Lutherans and Anglicans), Catholics read those passages during their daily and weekly Masses.

The next thing I learned was the word "brethren" in both the Old and New Testament did not necessarily mean of the same mother and father. It was often used of half-brother (sister) or cousin.

The following links here and here do a much better job articulating the reasons why the Church, from at least the middle of the second century, has believed Mary remained a virgin after Jesus’ birth.

Furthermore, my research also led me to the Reformers. I was surprised to learn John Calvin, Martin Luther and other Protestant reformers also believed Mary remained a perpetual virgin. (In my google search, this referenced site seems to provide the most succinct explanation of the Reformers' beliefs. However, I take objection to the tone in which the author makes his remarks. I would have rathered referenced a less pugnacious work).

My research convinced me there is sufficient Biblical and historical evidence to support the Catholic (and Orthodox) belief in Mary's perpetual virginity.

But what about her immaculate conception and assumption? I'll get to those questions later.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 11:45 AM 2 comments

Monday, August 01, 2005
Do Catholics Worship Mary?

Perhaps you remember the story in Joshua 22. Joshua called the tribes of Reuben, Gad and the half-tribe of Manasseh and gave them permission to return to their land on the other side of the Jordan.

A short time later, Joshua heard rumor that those tribes had set up an altar to worship other gods. He gathered the army and marched in battle array back to the Jordan. If the rumor proved true, blood would flow.

Please read the story here. It makes an important point. When Joshua and the rest of Israel challenged Rueben, Gad and Manasseh, the three tribes cried out: “The Mighty One, God, the Lord, the Mighty One, God the Lord! He knows, and may Israel itself know. If it was in rebellion, or if in an unfaithful act against the Lord, do not Thou save us this day!”

Rueben, Gad and Manasseh explained the purpose of their altar was not to serve other gods, but rather to act as a “witness between us and you and between our generations after us, that we are to perform the service of the Lord . . . .”

In other words, it “appeared” the tribes on the other side of the Jordan had fallen into idolatry. But when the leaders of Israel investigated the matter, Joshua and his army discovered the truth, and they left in peace.

This historical account is analagous to the problem many non-Catholics have with regard to our statues and religious practice. To be honest, I can understand how non-Catholics confuse some of our activities -- such as bowing to statues and placing candles before them -- as idolatry. For thirty-three years, I thought the same thing.

Until I investigated the matter.

The Catholic Church clearly teaches idolatry is grave sin. Idolatry not only refers to false pagan worship. It remains a constant temptation to faith. Idolatry consists in divinizing what is not God. Man commits idolatry whenever he honors and reveres a creature in place of God, whether this be gods or demons (for example, Satanism), power, pleasure, race, ancestors, the state, money, etc. Jesus says, "You cannot serve God and mammon." Many martyrs died for not adoring "the Beast" refusing even to simulate such worship. Idolatry rejects the unique Lordship of God; it is therefore incompatible with communion with God. (The Catechism of the Catholic Church [CCC}, para. 2113){My emphasis in bold}

When we bow to an image or statue, we do not bow as to an idol, but we honor the person represented by the image. It's not unlike how a soldier far from home might hold a picture of his wife in his hands and kiss it. When he does so, he's not kissing an image as if it is anything, but he is trying to draw near in his mind to the one the photo represents.

As for worshipping Mary, Catholics are surprised to learn non-Catholics think that of us. Although we know her as ever-virgin, immaculately conceived and physically assumed into heaven (beliefs held also by Reformers such as Martin Luther and John Calvin), Catholics simply honor her as Scripture teaches we should:
(Before getting to the text in Luke -- first, a disclaimer. In my research for this post I googled a number of sites. The one I reference here was the most succinct I could find. However, I object to the author's tone which seems, to me, grumpy. Maybe a little pugnacious. That's unfortunate).

(Luke 1:41) “When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit . . . exclaimed: "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear!"

And Mary responded: "My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior . . . From now on all generations will call me blessed . . .” (Luke 1:46-49)

I wonder if Protestants have thrown out the proverbial baby with the bath water. During my years in Protestant churches, I could count on one hand the times I heard Mary’s name mentioned apart from the Christmas season. Trying so hard to distance themselves from what many consider heretical Catholic doctrine, Protestant Christians seem to have relegated the woman who is above all women in Scripture to the narrow recesses of December sermons.

Regarding our devotion to Mary, the Catholic Catechism teaches: "The Church's devotion to the Blessed Virgin is intrinsic to Christian worship." The Church rightly honors "the Blessed Virgin with special devotion. From the most ancient times the Blessed Virgin has been honored with the title of 'Mother of God,' to whose protection the faithful fly in all their dangers and needs. . . . This very special devotion . . . differs essentially from the adoration which is given to the incarnate Word and equally to the Father and the Holy Spirit, and greatly fosters this adoration . . ." (CCC 971)

The Catechism continues, "Mary's function as mother of men in no way obscures or diminishes this unique mediation of Christ, but rather shows its power. But the Blessed Virgin's salutary influence on men . . . flows forth from the superabundance of the merits of Christ, rests on his mediation, depends entirely on it, and draws all its power from it." "No creature could ever be counted along with the Incarnate Word and Redeemer; but just as the priesthood of Christ is shared in various ways both by his ministers and the faithful, and as the one goodness of God is radiated in different ways among his creatures, so also the unique mediation of the Redeemer does not exclude but rather gives rise to a manifold cooperation which is but a sharing in this one source." (CCC 970)

When Rueben, Gad and Manasseh built that altar, they meant it for good. They meant it to serve as a reminder to subsequent generations on both sides of the Jordan that God Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen, was their God.

Not until Joshua and the other Israelites investigated the allegations did the entire nation find peace among themselves.

Catholics make statues of Mary and the saints to serve as reminders for us of the Almighty Triune God – Father, Son and Holy Spirit. We honor the images of saints because of Whose they were and to Whom they belonged (you might recognize my allusion to Paul’s statement in Acts 27:23).

Catholics and Protestants may never come to agreement on various points of doctrine. However, I hope that when non-Catholics investigate the theology and the devotion to Christ that is behind Catholic practice and belief about Mary and the saints, the entire church will find peace among ourselves.

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 8:04 PM 2 comments

Sunday, July 31, 2005
Well, Do Catholics Pray to the Dead?
Of course not.

But don’t take my word, here’s what the Catholic Church teaches about it: All forms of divination are to be rejected: recourse to Satan or demons, conjuring up the dead or other practices falsely supposed to "unveil" the future. Consulting horoscopes, astrology, palm reading, interpretation of omens and lots, the phenomena of clairvoyance, and recourse to mediums all conceal a desire for power over time, history, and, in the last analysis, other human beings, as well as a wish to conciliate hidden powers. They contradict the honor, respect, and loving fear that we owe to God alone. (The Catechism of the Catholic Church [CCC], paragraph 2116).

The reason I once believed Catholics pray to dead people was based on two very wrong assumptions.

First, I understood intellectually that the saints around God’s throne are not dead. For example, the Lord Jesus said to the Jewish religious leaders: "But that the dead are raised, even Moses showed, in the passage about the burning bush, where he calls the Lord ‘the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob’. Now He is not the God of the dead but of the living; for all live to Him." (Luke 20:37-38)

Likewise, we find the Lord Jesus having a conversation with Moses and Elijah on the Mount of Transfiguration. It is true that Elijah didn’t actually die but was taken to heaven in the fiery chariots (2 Kings 2:12). (I think that argument splits hairs). But we know Moses died. Yet here was the Lord Jesus speaking with them both.

One more of many other examples is found in the story of the Rich Man and Lazarus (Luke’s gospel, chapter 16). Here, the Lord gives us a glimpse into a discussion among three “dead” people – Abraham, Lazarus and the Rich Man. Of interest to me is that the Rich Man was interceding with Abraham for his brothers who were still “alive.” (Which suggests the saints on the other side of the grave can – and do – pray for us).

What I always understood intellectually about the saint’s on the other side, Catholics (and other Christian groups such as the Orthodox and Anglican churches) seem to understand it on a visceral and spiritual level. As a consequence, believing Peter, Paul, Mary, James and all the other men and women of God throughout Church history are as much alive as the Christian in the next pew, Christians throughout Church history, from as early as at least the second century, have asked saints around the throne for prayer.

The second wrong assumption had to do with the word “pray.” Do Catholics pray to the saints in the same way we pray to God?

No. Of course not.

Again, from the CCC: There is no other way of Christian prayer than Christ. Whether our prayer is communal or personal, vocal or interior, it has access to the Father only if we pray "in the name" of Jesus. The sacred humanity of Jesus is therefore the way by which the Holy Spirit teaches us to pray to God our Father. (paragraph 2664)


The dictionary gives two definitions for prayer:

1. To utter or address a prayer or prayers to God, a god, or another object of worship.
2. To make a fervent request or entreaty (e.g. of another person).

Catholics use the term in relationship to the saints in the second sense – to make fervent request or entreaty. Those of us who remember snippets of Shakespearean English, know the word “pray” was typically used in routine conversation among friends and acquaintances: “I pray, ye, pass the salt,” or “I pray thee, come to the house tonight.”

So, when Catholics “pray” to the saints, we are asking their intercession to God for us in exactly the same way as we ask our friends and family on this side of the grave to interceed for us.

While there might be a Catholic here and there -- untaught or poorly taught – who prays to Mary or another saint in the same way we pray to God, the official teaching of the Catholic Church clearly condemns that practice. For additional discussion, click here.

But speaking of Mary . . . do Catholics worship her? I’ll answer that next time.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 3:04 PM 0 comments

Friday, July 29, 2005
Do Catholics Pray to Dead People?

During the last 30-plus years, as I've shared my faith with others, I often met people who didn't have a clue about God, and who got their information about God from others who themselves didn't have a clue about God.

Sorta like the blind leading the blind.

Many of you know I joined the Catholic Church a few months ago. When I try to explain my Catholic faith to non-Catholics, I find a similar pattern -- those who don't know what Catholicism teaches get their ideas about Catholicism from others who, themselves, don't know what Catholicism teaches.

That's really unfortunate. How can the Body of Christ ever hope to reconcile with each other when there is so much misinformation floating around out there?

I make no claim to complete knowledge of Catholic teaching. I've only been at this a few months -- although I've been studying the doctrinal questions for at least two years. But I know Scriptures fairly well and can address some of the more common misperceptions non-Catholics have about Catholicism. I also know where to send people for more indepth and more articulate answers (e.g. www.catholic.com) and here.

So, if you wonder if Catholics pray to dead people, if we worship Mary, if we sacrifice Christ each Mass, if we think the Pope is infallible . . . and other important and valid questions about Catholicism, stand by. I will post some responses over the next several days.

rich

posted by rich 3:41 PM 0 comments

Thursday, July 28, 2005
Driving Another Nail

Foaming with rage, Saul made his way to Damascus to drag Christians to prison and, if possible, execution. As far as he was concerned, those who followed the heretic Jesus were a cancerous blight on civilization. They must be silenced. They would be silenced. Saul would make sure of it.

You probably know the rest of the story. On his way to Damascus, Saul was knocked off his donkey and heard the thunderous accusation: Saul! Saul! Why are you persecuting me? I am Jesus of Nazareth whom you are persecuting (Acts 8).

Until that moment, the zealot didn't understand when he hurt Christians, he was hurting Jesus. When he brutalized them, he brutalized Jesus.

This is a critically important lesson fraught with extraordinary ramifications. Think of it. Though we don’t go around killing Christians, there are many other ways we hurt our brethren. And in so doing, we hurt Jesus.

How we treat each other, the Lord Jesus warned, we treat Him (see Matthew 25:31-46). When we scratch and claw our way past brothers and sisters in Christ for better jobs or positions, we do so as if scraping Jesus’ flesh under our fingernails. As we lash out againt our spouse or children, it's as if we're ripping into His skin. If we turn our backs on the needy child of God, we turn our backs on the Savior. When we slander His children, it's as if we're hammering nails into His hands once again. While we rail against other Christians' interpretation of Scripture, we act as if we don't see through a glass darkly, and make ourselves the final judge of God's truth.

When David confessed his sin with Bathsheba, he didn’t say, “I have sinned against Uriah” (her husband). David recognized: “Against thee, thee only have I sinned and done what is evil in thy sight” (Psalm 51).

The Lord takes our actions and words personally, as if we do them to Him.

That's a scary thought -- which is why I pray, "Lord, I don’t want to drive another nail. I don’t to draw any more of your blood. Help me guard my lips, hands and feet before I hurt others – and You – again. Amen "

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:03 PM 0 comments

Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Eyes To See

I think it was Yogi Berra, former Yankee catcher and Mets manager, who said, “You can see a lot just by looking.”

The converse is also true. We miss a lot by not looking – especially of things that really matter. For example, the Lord Jesus chided His first century listeners, “Do you know how to discern the appearance of the sky, but cannot discern the signs of the times?”(Matthew 16). In another passage He warned, “If your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light that is in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!” (Matthew 6:23).

The Lord asked the Hebrew prophet Zechariah, “What do you see?” (Zechariah 5:2). I'm sure he would ask me the same question, if only I’d stand still long enough for Him to get my attention. But perhaps more honestly and to the point, how much can I expect to see with eyes dull from looking at things I shouldn't be looking at?

“The heavens declare God’s glory,” the Psalmist tells us. But all I usually see through dulled eyes are clouds and pollution. The prophet Elisha saw angels circling to his rescue (2 Kings 6), yet I see only obstacles, enemies and reasons to cower under the covers. The Lord warned those who were righteous in their own sight to buy from Him eye salve, lest they not see they were naked, poor, miserable and blind” (Revelation 3:14-18). However, I don’t see much of a reason to spend the money or take the time to shop.

It's true, we can see a lot by just looking. That's why I pray, "Lord, give me sharpened spiritual sight. Each day, turn my eyes away from things that displease you, and toward the aura of your glory as it fills the horizon." Amen.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:21 AM 0 comments

Sunday, July 24, 2005
The Daniel Prayer

I've no idea how often people read my blog. Nor do I know how far back anyone reads.
I posted these thoughts quite some time ago. I think it's a good idea to post it again. And later on, again. Who knows, maybe it will start a movement . . . the Daniel Prayer movement. You'll find the prayer in Daniel 9. I believe it's something God would be pleased for His church to pray.
------------
After King Solomon died and his son, Rehoboam ascended the throne, God split the kingdom – Judah in the south and Israel in the north. If you remember the story, the division occurred because of the king’s sin. You can read about it in 1 Kings 11.

Scripture is clear that a divided Israel was not God’s original plan. Even after the division, His prophets foretold a time with He would reunite the kingdom. Ezekiel chapters 34-37 are just some examples.

What might have happened if, before the division – or even after it – what might have happened if Solomon, and all Israel, repented, turned from their rebellions and cried to God for mercy?

Knowing the mercy of God as we do, world history would be different.

During the last several months – eighteen, actually – I’ve grown increasingly aware of Church divisions. Baptists, Pentecostals, Anglicans, Orthodox, Roman Catholics, Methodists, Seventh Day Adventists, Nazarene, Wesleyan . . . the list is nearly endless.

I wonder if a fair analogy might be drawn between Israel’s division and the division of the Church that occurred in the early 1500s when Martin Luther nailed the Church leadership's sin to the door. And I wonder what God might have done if the Church leadership of the day, as well as the people, repented, turned from their rebellions and cried to God for mercy?

Knowing the mercy of God as we do, world history would be different. The Church would not be divided into a warring camps. We would be unified in purpose and holiness, and our world would not be writhing in the grip of Satanic forces as we see all around us.

Yes, there are serious doctrinal differences among us. But how many of those differences are directly traceable to an unwillingness on behalf of Church leadership, then and now – as well as of the laity -- to pray for unity, to seek it as a pearl of great price, as if our very lives depended on it?

To a great extent, it does.

The Psalmist wrote long ago: “O Lord, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity” (Psalm 133:1). The Lord Jesus carried that theme into His High Priestly prayer (John 17): “I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. . . . that they may be one as we are one: I in them and you in me. May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.”

Recently, as I read through the ninth chapter of Daniel, I stopped two verses into his prayer and realized I, as well as Christians everywhere, could pray Daniel’s prayer -- with the minor alterations I've incorporated here -- for the Church:

“O Lord, the great and awesome God, who keeps his covenant of love with all who love him and obey his commands, we have sinned and done wrong. We have been wicked and have rebelled; we have turned away from your commands and laws. We have not listened to your servants the prophets and apostles, who spoke in your name to our kings, our leaders and our fathers, and to all the people of the Church.”

“Lord, you are righteous, but this day we are covered with shame-the people of your holy Body, the Church, both near and far, in all the countries where you have scattered us because of our unfaithfulness to you. O LORD, we and our kings, our leaders and our fathers are covered with shame because we have sinned against you. Lord, you are merciful and forgiving, even though we have rebelled against you; we have not obeyed the LORD our God or kept the laws you gave us through you servants the prophets and apostles. All the Church has transgressed your law and turned away, refusing to obey you.”

“Therefore the curses and sworn judgments written in the Law of Moses, the servant of God, and in the Gospels and epistles have been poured out on us, because we have sinned against you. You have fulfilled the words spoken against us and against our rulers by bringing upon us great disaster. Under the whole heaven nothing has ever been done like what has been done to the Church. Just as it is written in the Law of Moses, and the New Testament writings, all this disaster has come upon us, yet we have not sought the favor of the LORD our God by turning from our sins and giving attention to your truth. The LORD did not hesitate to bring the disaster upon us, for the LORD our God is righteous in everything he does; yet we have not obeyed him.”

“Now, O Lord our God, who brought your people out of sin with a mighty hand and who made for yourself a name that endures to this day, we have sinned, we have done wrong. O Lord, in keeping with all your righteous acts, turn away your anger and your wrath from the Church, your Body, your Bride. Our sins and the iniquities of our fathers have made your people an object of scorn to all those around us.”

“Now, our God, hear the prayers and petitions of your servant. For your sake, O Lord, look with favor on your desolate sanctuary. Give ear, O God, and hear; open your eyes and see the desolation of the Church that bears your Name. We do not make requests of you because we are righteous, but because of your great mercy. O Lord, listen! O Lord, forgive! O Lord, hear and act! For your sake, O my God, for the sake of Jesus, do not delay, because your Church your people bear your Name.”

Amen

Church, for the sake of Christ's most precious Body and Blood, can we pray for unity, repentance and humility?

posted by rich 8:54 PM 0 comments

Whose Report Will We Believe?

For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:38-39)

What would it be like to be so convinced, as the Apostle, that nothing -- nothing --can separate us from God’s love? What must it be like to know that you know that He holds us in the palm of His nail-scarred hands, that he never leaves us, will never forsake us? When storms lash, when mountains fall and terror strikes, how would our lives be different with the absolute assurance that God is with us?

There’s a difference between knowing about Christ and knowing Him, between talking to Him and hearing Him. Between searching for Him and being found by Him.

“Who will believe our report?” the prophet asked (Isaiah 53:1). It’s the same report that prophets, apostles and ordinary men and women of God like you and me have proclaimed through millennia: God is with us. He loves us. He holds us in His hand.

Satan, the enemy of our souls, whispers that our confidence is misplaced. We believe a myth. There is no help for us in God.

Whose report will we believe? God’s, or the angel of darkness?

Holy Spirit, burn away my doubts. Lead me into truth. Grow my love and confidence in the Father until I also can say with the apostle, “I am convinced!” Amen

posted by rich 6:48 PM 0 comments

Friday, July 22, 2005
Press On!

"Do not be afraid," Samuel replied. "You have done all this evil; yet do not turn away from the LORD , but serve the LORD with all your heart.” (1 Samuel 12:20)

What a great message of hope Samuel offered to the people. “Yes, you’ve sinned,” he said. “But don’t let your sin prevent you from repentance and renewal. Press on with the Lord. His love is new every morning. His faithfulness is as great as the heavens."

I’ve known people – perhaps you have, too – who’ve tried and failed, and tried and failed again.

And again.

Discouragement gnaws at their hearts. The Christian life is just too hard. There’s no use in continuing. Surely God won’t forgive me THIS time.

Yes. He will. “If we confess our sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9).

Don’t be afraid. You’ve sinned, but don't turn from the Lord. He still extends His hand to forgive. Take hold of it. Repent, and move on in His grace.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:54 PM 0 comments

Thursday, July 21, 2005
Unknowingly on Holy Ground

Amaziah, one of the kings of Judah, "did what was right in the eyes of the LORD , but not wholeheartedly" (2 Chronicles 25:2).

How much like Amaziah am I? I do right, but only partly. I commit myself to Christ, but not wholeheartedly. I hang tenaciously to my will, my plans . . . even my favorite sins. How well I understand St. Paul's lament: "Wretched man that I am. Who will deliver me from the body of this death?" (Romans 7).

One of the prayers I often offer to God was first offered by St. Ignatius of Loyola (1491-1556):

"Lord Jesus Christ, take all my freedom, my memory, my understanding, and my will. All that I have and cherish you have given me. I surrentder it all to be guided by your will. Your love and your grace are wealth enough for me. Give me these, Lord Jesus, and I ask for nothing more. Amen."

I pray this for at least three reasons. First, I'm VERY forgetful. I often don't remember from one day to the next the promises I make to God. Second, I remind myself that nothing I have is mine. None of it originated with me. Wealth, health, talent, reputation -- everything was given me by and through God's grace. And third, as much as I can mean it in my human frailty, I want Him to use whatever I have for His will and purpose.

It's easy to serve God only half-heartedly. I want to do better than that.

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:13 AM 0 comments

Sunday, July 17, 2005
Tired of Forgetting

Every now and then I catch a glimpse of how little I understand God’s unconditional love. Today was one of those days. During my morning time with God, as I prayed the “Our Father,” I stopped at the phrase, “forgive us our sins.” Suddenly, my mind fast-reversed to the oh-so-many things I’d recently done, said and thought – things for which I am ashamed.

I don’t know how other Christians deal with repetitive sin in their lives, but I sure get tired of committing the same ones again and again. And I admit, sometimes I’m tempted to just give up. At my spiritual age in Christ, I should know where the fissures lie in the road, and be well adept at avoiding them.

As I replayed my recent falls, another text dropped into my mind: “God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).

That's a concept worthy of a book-length discussion.

Do I disown my children when they offend me? Of course not. As angry or hurt as I might be, I would, in a heartbeat, die for them if necessary.

Does our heavenly Father disown His children, even when they anger or offend Him? Of course not. Calvary proves that point.

Why did Jesus endure the cross? To demonstrate – forever demonstrate – the Father's ongoing, unconditional love for sinners who continue to fall into the same fissures. Sinners like me – and you. Regardless of the number of times we stumble, His love never changes. Not one iota. And His promise remains ever true: If we confess our sins, even seventy times seven times, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (I John 1:9).

I wish I’d stop forgetting that.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:17 PM 0 comments

Saturday, July 16, 2005
Spurning Christ's Desire for Unity
I am at the same time saddened and angry about this article:

Having recently been led by God into the Catholic church after thirty-three years in Evangelical Protestantism, I've had my share of flaming missles tossed at me by fellow Christians. I've been accused of spreading heresy, of losing my salvation, of having succumbed to serious doctrinal error.

I wonder if the adoption organization cited in this article -- and my former friends -- know Church history? Do they know that, if not for Catholics, the Christian faith would have died on the vine? It was the Catholic church that fought and defeated the heresies in the early centuries, heresies that would have diluted Christianity into oblivion. It was the Catholic church that gave us the Nicene Creed. It was the Catholic church that gave us the Canon of Scripture used by Christians across the world.

What this adoption agency -- and my former friends (former because of their choice, not mine) have done is nothing less than give the ungodly another good reason to scorn Christ and those who follow Him.

And we continue to spurn the Savior's desire for church unity:

" . . . As thou hast sent me into the world, even so have I also sent them into the world. And for their sakes I sanctify myself, that they also might be sanctified through the truth. Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall believe on me through their word; That they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us: that the world may believe that thou hast sent me. And the glory which thou gavest me I have given them; that they may be one, even as we are one" (John 17)

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 10:48 AM 0 comments

Friday, July 15, 2005
Sprinting Toward the Battle
“But David said to Saul, ‘. . . . When a lion or a bear came and carried off a sheep from the flock, I seized it by its hair, struck it and killed it. . . .The LORD who delivered me from the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine . . .’ " (1 Samuel 17:34-37)

David knew what it was like to battle against what seemed overwhelming odds. As a young shepherd, he killed deadly animals with nothing more than a sling shot, his strength (meager as it was against a lion and bear) – and his faith in God.

His current battle against the giant would be no different.

David remembered his previous victories in the Lord, and that gave him the confidence to sprint toward this latest battle. The nine-foot Philistine warrior would fall before him as did the lion and bear.

Think about your own battles against what seemed at the time overwhelming odds. You were armed only with the equivalent to a sling shot, your strength – meager though it was against your giants – and faith in God.

Remember the victories God won for you in the past. Meditate on them. Ruminate on them. Let them feed your faith. And then sprint in confidence toward your next battle.

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 3:42 PM 0 comments

Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Smarter Than A Spider

It looked like a speck of dust on the pinhead, but as I moved my finger closer, it suddenly sprouted legs. Each one stiffened into an exclamation mark aimed straight at me. The spider, whose body was not much larger than the period at the end of a sentence, warned, "Stand back! One step closer and I'll . . . ."

I couldn't resist teasing it, watching the tiny creature relax and then tense in defiance when I poked at it with my finger. As much as a spider can be "cute," I found the minuscule arachnid almost endearing in its useless posturing. But, cute or not, I had other things to do and soon tired of the game. I carried the pin cushion outside where I gently puffed the spider from its perch.

Later that evening, as my wife and I joked about that spine-tingling encounter, my thoughts drifted to another confrontation years earlier -- one not unlike the duel with my eight-legged friend.

It was 1970 and I was a 20 year-old member of the hippie movement doing my best to promote peace, love, drugs and sex. One evening, as I sat in my car waiting for the traffic light to turn green, the craziest thought I'd had in a long time popped into my mind: "What if there is a God?"

I was intrigued. Not having thought about a Supreme Being in years, I played with the idea: What if there is a God?" And almost immediately I bristled. It's a wonder my arms and legs didn't involuntarily stiffen into exclamation marks aimed straight at the heavens. "If there is a God," I quickly reasoned, "then I can't continue living like I am."

The light turned green, and I shook my head in defiance. The words never came through my lips, but my heart screamed: "Get away from me, God. One step closer and I'll . . . ."

He wasn't frightened.

Several months (and several pokes) later I tired of my "peace, love, drugs and sex" games. I could no longer stiffen at His prodding. I knew it was time to leave my perch.

I don't think King David toyed much with spiders, but he might have had someone like me in mind when he marveled how some people rage against the Almighty. Don't they recognize they take their next breath only with His permission? Little wonder God laughs at them from His throne (Psalm 2:1-4).

The spider posturing atop the pin-head was not smart enough to realize that, had I so chosen, I could have snuffed out its life in an instant. I wouldn't be surprised if it was more angry than relieved that I gently whisked it from its perch. But I like to think I'm smarter than a spider. I know what could have happened to me each time I refused to budge before God's finger. I am forever grateful He had mercy on a minuscule creature such as I.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:05 PM 0 comments

Saturday, July 09, 2005
Nourishment for the Battle
It will help to read the entire chapter of 1 Samuel 14 to get a good handle on the context. Israel was in the midst of a war against their long-time oppressors, the Philistines. For some reason known only to King Saul, he ordered his army not to eat anything until they’d completely beaten their enemy. However, Jonathan (Saul’s son) hadn’t heard the command.

We pick up the story in verse 28:

“Then one of the soldiers told him, "Your father bound the army under a strict oath, saying, 'Cursed be any man who eats food today!' That is why the men are faint."

Jonathan said, "My father has made trouble for the country. See how my eyes brightened when I tasted a little of this honey. How much better it would have been if the men had eaten today some of the plunder they took from their enemies. Would not the slaughter of the Philistines have been even greater?"

The analogy isn't perfect, but I think close enough. Scripture is clear: We’re in a battle, a continuous deadly war, not against flesh and blood, but against spiritual forces (see Ephesians 6). Human weapons of steel and iron are useless in this fight. We must use spiritual weapons against a spiritual foe (see 2 Corinthians 10).

Our long-time spiritual oppressor – Satan -- knows if we don’t nourish ourselves on spiritual food, we'll find ourselves weakened and unable to effectively fight the good fight. That’s why he deceives us into believing we don’t need the Sacraments, the daily honey of Scripture, prayer and frequent fellowship with other Christians.

Little wonder, then, we often lack spiritual strength to overcome sin, live godly lives and bear fruit for the Master

The Psalmist said, “Taste and see that the Lord is good” (Psalm 34). Come. Gain the nourishment you need for the daily battle.

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:11 AM 0 comments

Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Come Home

I didn't intend to eavesdrop. I doubt they even noticed me as I leaned against the wall. The family focused too closely on their private ordeal to pay attention to anyone else in the airport terminal.

When they reached the row of seats across from me, they stopped. The daughter lowered her travel-bag to the floor.

"There's still time to change your mind," her father said softly.

The young woman, probably in her early twenties, nodded and turned toward the glass wall. Her plane waited at the gate.

"Call us when you get settled," mom said, breaking the tension. "Let us know how you are."

They looked at each other. Both tried to smile. Dad slipped his hands into his pockets and stared at the passing crowd. I felt relieved for them all when, a few moments later, the ticket agent's voice broke over the loudspeaker, "We will now board rows 20 through 28. Please have your boarding passes ready for the agent at the door."

"Well," Dad sighed as he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. "Take care of yourself," his voice caught. "Call if you need anything. Come home whenever you want."

She brushed a kiss to his cheek, hugged Mom for a moment, looked once more at Dad -- and walked away.

Why was she leaving? For how long? I don't know any more about the family than what I heard and saw during that brief interlude at the terminal gate.

What I do know, however, is for me the most important part of the story. Mom and Dad wanted her to stay. Even to the last moment, before boarding the plane, they hoped she would change her mind -- and they made sure to remind her she would always be welcomed home.

As they watched their daughter disappear down the corridor toward her plane, my heart suddenly caught a sense of another Parent's pathos; and I wondered, How often does the heavenly Father stand before one of His children and plead, "There's still time to change your mind"? How often does He say, "I wish you wouldn't go"?

And how many of them return an awkward smile -- and walk away into the corridor of self-righteousness, of sexual immorality, pride, witchcraft, gossip and a host of other rebellions against God's law?

Yet the most important part of that story is this: No sin is too dark, no violation of His Law is too deep, that Christ's blood cannot purify. Calvary still echoes with God's plea to His wayward children, "Turn from those rebellions and come home." Again and again He says it: "Remember, you can always come home.

End

rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:36 PM 0 comments

liturgical readings note

One of these days I hope to put 365 daily devotional readings into a book. Therefore, for that purpose, I'm moving all of my devotional writings to another site. If you would like that address, let me know.

I will continue this site, though. . . sharing my thoughts as I continue moving toward the kingdom. Join me, will you?

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:33 PM 0 comments

Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Ponder #3

Keep this book of the law on your lips. Recite it by day and by night, that you may observe carefully all that is written in it; then you will successfully attain your goal. (Joshua 1:8)

Happy those who do not follow the counsel of the wicked, Nor go the way of sinners, nor sit in company with scoffers. Rather, the law of the LORD is their joy; God's law they study day and night. They are like a tree planted near streams of water, that yields its fruit in season; Its leaves never wither; whatever they do prospers. (Psalm 1:1-3)

How I love your teaching, Lord! I study it all day long. Your command makes me wiser than my foes, for it is always with me. I have more understanding than all my teachers, because I ponder your decrees. I have more insight than my elders, because I observe your precepts. (Psalm 119:97-100)

I believe it was St. Jerome who said, "Ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ." We can never prosper in our spiritual life if we neglect reading and studying God's word.

Two chapters of the New Testament every day, and you'll complete it in four months. Two chapters of the Old Testament each day and you will finish in about fourteen months.

How long does it take to read two chapters in the morning and two in the evening? Usually less than ten minutes. But, Oh! What richness of blesssing awaits those who persevere in that critical part of our faith.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 11:05 AM 0 comments

Monday, July 04, 2005
Liturgical Reading for June 19

First Reading: Jeremiah 20:10-13
Responsorial Psalm: Psalms 69:8-10, 14, 17, 33-35
Second Reading: Romans 5:12-15
Gospel: Matthew 10:26-33


Everyone who acknowledges me before others I will acknowledge before my heavenly Father. But whoever denies me before others, I will deny before my heavenly Father. (Matthew 10:32-33)

If anyone had reason to count himself unforgivable, it was St. Peter. The fisherman-turned-disciple lived with Jesus for three years. He enjoyed a special intimacy with the Lord known only to two others -- James and John. Peter and the other disciples heard the Lord teach multitudes, they watched Him raise the dead, walk on the sea, turn water to wine and feed thousands with only a few fish and some bread.

Yet, when soldiers dragged Christ before the authorities, Peter cowered and swore, "I don't know the man." Not just once, but three times.

I'm not sure I could have recovered from that memory. If I’d been guilty of that thrice denial, my words would have echoed in my thoughts like rocks bouncing against cavern walls as they fell toward a dark and unreachable bottom.

Yet, the more I think about Peter's fall, the greater comfort I find -- not because of his failure, but because of his recovery. That recovery holds the key for all of us who stumble toward the Kingdom and wonder if we can get up again.

What would the Church look like today if St. Peter had returned the Kingdom’s keys to Jesus (Matthew 16:18-19) and slipped into the shadows of history, overwhelmed by his shame? How much less would we understand the grace of God without Peter's two epistles? How many men and women are in heaven today because Peter discovered, as all of us must discover: God is the God of Another Chance?

Scripture promises God will forgive anyone who confesses his or her sin to Him. Anyone. (1 John 1:9) Why? “As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on the faithful" (Psalm 103:13).

Another Chance begins each time we come to our Father and ask for forgiveness. When all theology and philosophy are stripped away, the Lord Jesus is the reason we can get up and start again. His matchless and enduring love for us, despite our failures, is the reason we should get up and start again.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, be merciful to me, the sinner. I am not worthy to come to Your table. Only say the word, and I will be healed.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 11:28 AM 0 comments

Liturgical Reading for June 18

First Reading: Second Corinthians 12:1-10
Responsorial Psalm: Psalms 34:8-9, 10-11, 12-13
Gospel: Matthew 6:24-34

Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me, but he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:8-9)

You'd think if God answered anyone's prayers, St. Paul would be at the top of the list. Much of the New Testament came through his pen. An entire continent heard the gospel because of his tireless zeal. The Book of Acts records numerous instances of God's miraculous works and healing through Paul's ministry.

Yet, when Paul asked God to remove his thorn, God said, "No." Sometimes God says that. Even to His apostles.

Scripture records many reasons God says "No." Sometimes, as in this chapter, He says it because He can use us more fruitfully with our thorn than without it. Sometimes He says it because it's in our best interest if we don’t get what we want. Sometimes "No" means "Not yet." And, yes, sometimes He says it because of our willful and unrepented sin.

What do we do when God doesn't give us the answers we want to hear? Do we sulk and accuse Him of not caring? Or like Paul, can we trust our heavenly Father's great love for us? Can we be content with thorns, knowing that when we are weak, we are strong in Him?

God's, "No" is always rooted in His love for us. And His grace is always sufficient to carry us through our heartache and disappointment.

Prayer: Lord, teach me to trust in your love, even when you say, "No." Teach me obedience through the trials you let cross my path. Refine me, purify me, purge me, so I can be useful for Your kingdom. Amen

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 10:15 AM 0 comments

Sunday, July 03, 2005
Something to ponder #2

"The child (John the Baptist) grew and became strong in spirit, and he was in the desert until the day of his manifestation to Israel." (Luke 1:80)

Like many Old Testament prophets, and later monks and hermits, John the Baptist spent much of his life in the desert where he met God, communed with Him, learned at His feet.

Did you ever wish for that -- to get away from time clocks, traffic, bills and endless chores? Have you yearned for a quiet time and place to meet God and learn at His feet?

You and I will probably never be able to toss our daily responsibilities to the proverbial wind and buy a one-way ticket to the desert. But we have a quiet place in our home where we can meet with God. The Lord calls it a prayer closet.

And if we listen carefully, we'll hear His whisper: "Come away by yourself to your desert. Spend time with Me."

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:28 PM 0 comments

Something to ponder #1

"Paul, called to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God . . ."

These are the first words of Paul's letter to the Christians at Corinth. When I read them the other day I wondered, did Paul know his letter would eventually become part of the Bible? No, of course not.

And neither did Peter, or James, Jude, John . . . none of the apostles knew their letters would survive 2,000 years and give comfort and exhortation to millions -- a billion -- Christians. They simply wrote what was on their hearts, in obedience and service to God.

Though our words won't become Scripture, what can our words or acts accomplish for God? How far-reaching will they be?

We don't know. Yet, as was true of the apostles, we too are called by God to faithfully use His word to teach, exhort, challenge and comfort.

And the result of our obedience? Consider God's promise to us through Isaiah (55:8):

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD. As high as the heavens are above the earth, so high are my ways above your ways and my thoughts above your thoughts.

For just as from the heavens the rain and snow come down And do not return there till they have watered the earth, making it fertile and fruitful, Giving seed to him who sows and bread to him who eats, So shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; It shall not return to me void, but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:10 PM 0 comments

June 17, 2005 Liturgical Reading

First Reading: Second Corinthians 11:18, 21-30
Responsorial Psalm: Psalms 34:2-3, 4-5, 6-7
Gospel: Matthew 6:19-23

Where your treasure is, there also will your heart be. (Matthew 6:21)


Nothing affects our relationship with Christ more than what we consider our treasures. The more we seek them, the less time, energy and desire we have for anything else. A modern paraphrase might be, “Tell me where you spend your time and money, and I’ll tell you what you love.”

But nestled within the Lord’s description of humankind’s relationship with God is a subtle nugget describing God’s relationship with us.

We are God’s precious possession. St. Peter reminds us, “But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people of his own." (1 Peter 2:9)

Some imagine God an aloof Creator who enters history from time to time. Scripture describes Him quite differently. He is our Father, intimately and emotionally involved in our lives. The Psalmist understood this. ”O Lord,” he prayed, “you know when I sit and stand; you understand my thoughts from afar. My travels and my rest you mark; with all my ways you are familiar. Even before a word is on my tongue, Lord, you know it all. Behind and before you encircle me and rest your hand upon me.” (Psalm 139:1-5)

We are God’s treasure – and where His treasure is, there also is His heart. What power can separate God from His heart? St. Paul shouted the answer: “Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38-39)

Who can understand the cost of Calvary? It was there He gave His Son to bleed and die. There was no better way God could show us what He loves -- and where is His heart.

Prayer: Lord, in the midst of my hurt, confusion and failure, help me know I have your heart.

And help me give you mine. Amen.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 4:31 PM 0 comments

Monday, June 27, 2005
Liturgical Reading for July 1, 2006

First Reading: Lamentations 2:2, 10-14, 18-19
Responsorial Psalm: Psalms 74:1-2, 3-5, 5-7, 20-21
Gospel: Matthew 8:5-17

The centurion said in reply, "Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed . . . ." When Jesus heard this, he was amazed and said to those following him, "Amen, I say to you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith." (Matthew 8:8,10)

The Lord's response to the centurion has to be one of the most astonishing statements in the New Testament.

Israel had the sacred history, liturgy, prayers, and sacrifices. Yet, a non-Jew had the greater faith. Perhaps after millennia of form and rituals, Israel had confused religious practice with spiritual relationship.

The Lord's praise for the centurion carries a lesson for me. As a member of the Church, I enjoy a rich sacred history. Like Israel, I have the prayers, the liturgy, the rituals -- and especially the Sacraments. But I worry I might somehow get it backwards, that I might confuse religious practice with God-centered faith -- faith in His love, forgiveness, and His sacrifice on Calvary that freed me -- us -- from sin and eternal death.

The centurion demonstrated two characteristics which can help anyone avoid getting it backwards. First, he was desperate. Sometimes the best prayers are not long-winded, but three-worded: "Lord, help me."

And, he was humble. The centurion, leader of a hundred soldiers, could have ordered Jesus to heal his servant, "or else." But instead, he bowed his heart to Christ: "Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof."

Prayers, rituals and forms can nurture a rich relationship with Christ, or they can become a hollow substitute. The difference can be deceptively subtle.

Prayer: Lord, help me be like the centurion, desperate for your mercy, and humble in my request.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 8:11 PM 0 comments

Thursday, June 23, 2005
Liturgical Reading for July 2, 2006

First Reading: Wisdom 1:13-15, 2:23-24
Responsorial Psalm: Psalms 30:2, 4, 5-6, 11, 12, 13
Second Reading: Second Corinthians 8:7, 9, 13-15
Gospel: Mark 5:21-43 or 21-24, 35-43



When they arrived at the house of the synagogue official, he caught sight of a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. So he went in and said to them, "Why this commotion and weeping? The child is not dead but asleep." And they ridiculed him. (Mark 5:38-40)


Calvin knew death. He'd sold it in ziplock bags since he was sixteen. Crack cocaine, mostly, but any drug would do if he could turn a profit. When he was twenty-five a rival drug dealer pulled a gun on him, but Calvin drew first and fired. The other guy fell to the floor in an expanding puddle of blood. The police caught Calvin a day later. He served eight years for manslaughter.

Shortly after his release, Calvin stumbled into a downtown San Diego Mission where he heard the gospel for the first time. The drug-dealing ex-con turned his life to the Savior and overnight, the man who knew death discovered new life.

None of his friends believed he was serious. "No one can change you," they ridiculed. "You'll be back on the streets in a month." But Calvin persevered. When I met him fifteen years later he was one of the gentlest, most considerate and humble of men I've ever known.

Two thousand years ago the Lord Jesus entered a home to heal a dead child. Today He still enters homes to heal and resurrect the spiritually dead.

Do you know a Calvin? Is his story similar to yours? Let mockers mock and the scornful scorn. As the Lord was, so He remains.

Persevere!

Prayer: Lord, I want to belong to You. Raise me to new life. Change me. Cleanse me. And help me walk as You walked. Amen

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 8:25 PM 0 comments

Sunday, June 19, 2005
Liturgical Reading for June 16

First Reading: Second Corinthians 11:1-11
Responsorial Psalm: Psalms 111:1-2, 3-4, 7-8
Gospel: Matthew 6:7-15

“Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as in heaven. Give us today our daily bread; and forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors; and do not subject us to the final test, but deliver us from the evil one.” (Matthew 6:9-13)

Most Catholics know the “Our Father” by heart. It’s an integral part of our religious culture. We recite it at each Mass. We learn it as we prepare for First Communion or reception into the Church. It’s part of the Rosary.

Familiarity in prayer can be a good thing if what we pray causes us each time to consider the holiness and majesty of our God. But familiarity can also have the opposite effect. It can dull us to the reverence with which we should approach His presence. It can harden us to His holiness and to His expectation that we, too, should be holy.

It happened to God’s Chosen people, Israel. That’s why He said through Isaiah, “. . . this people draws near with words only and honors me with their lips alone, though their hearts are far from me, and their reverence for me has become routine observance of the precepts of men.” (Isaiah 29:13)

It happened to them. How can we protect ourselves from it happening to us?

Here are some suggestions:

1. Arrive at Mass 15 minutes early and plan to spend the time in prayer.

2. As you bow and cross yourself in God’s presence, focus on the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

3. Meditate on the Nicene Creed or the “Our Father.” Make the prayer personal. What does it mean to say, “I believe in God the Father, maker of heaven and earth”? What does it mean, “My Father in heaven” or “hallowed by Thy Name”?

4. Say the Rosary at home. Ruminate on the prayers and on Christ in the Mysteries. The Rosary offers us opportunity to meditate on the majesty of God. It’s Ok if you run out of time to pray the five decades (sections of the Rosary). Someone has well said, “It’s better to pray one decade well than five decades badly.”

Prayer can be a meaningful communication with God, or a mindless mouthing of words. Make it meaningful.

Prayer: Holy Spirit, teach me to pray.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:58 PM 0 comments

Friday, June 17, 2005
Liturgical Reading for June 15

First Reading: Second Corinthians 9:6-11
Responsorial Psalm: Psalms 112:1-2, 3-4, 9
Gospel: Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18

“(But) take care not to perform righteous deeds in order that people may see them . . When you give alms, do not blow a trumpet before you . . . When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, who love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on street corners so that others may see them . . . When you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites.“ (Matthew 6:1-18)

It’s all about the heart. Always has been. God is less concerned about our outward religion as He is about our interior faith. That’s why He castigated the Israelites through the prophet Isaiah, “What care I for the number of your sacrifices? . . . Your new moons and festivals I detest; they weigh me down, I tire of the load. When you spread out your hands, I close my eyes to you; Though you pray the more, I will not listen. Your hands are full of blood! Wash yourselves clean! Put away your misdeeds from before my eyes; cease doing evil.” (Isaiah 1:11-16)

The Lord faced the same attitude in the Pharisees, who loved the respect of those in the marketplace, but their hearts were full of robbery and dead men's bones (Matthew 23:7,27).

How often does the Lord Jesus encounter similar attitudes among us? Whether praying, worshipping, and especially receiving the Eucharist, God knows our hearts, our motives -- and our unconfessed sins.

As in the days of Isaiah, and the days of the Pharisees, God looks today for a people with an interior faith, who perform religious acts because they love God and want to please Him.

Prayer: Lord, make me that kind of person.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net
www.nearlydaybyday.blogspot.com

posted by rich 8:05 PM 0 comments

Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Liturgical Reading for June 14

First Reading: Second Corinthians 8:1-9
Responsorial Psalm: Psalms 146:2, 5-6, 7, 8-9
Gospel: Matthew 5:43-48

"But I say to you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you . . .."
(Matthew 5:44)


If we fall for Hollywood's version of love, we'll think love is something you do in bed with whomever happens to be available at the moment. But, like most things coming out of popular culture and media, that version is a crass corruption of truth. Lust is not love. Love is something far more pure.

St. Paul's definition of love is the best we'll ever find. He tells us love is patient and kind. It's not envious or boastful, proud or rude, self-seeking or easily angered. It doesn't keep a record of wrongs, doesn't delight in evil, but rejoices with truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. (1 Corinthians 13)

By that definition, it's hard enough to love those who love us. But the Lord commands us, "Love your enemies." That couldn't run more counter to our human nature. We usually prefer to get even. Maybe ratchet the retaliation up a few notches.

But that's not what Christ did. He set the bar at, "Father, forgive them, for they don't know what they are doing."

How can we meet that standard? I know of no other way than by becoming increasingly joined to Christ. Sunday-only Christianity is not enough. It is only through faith in His atonement that God makes us new creations (2 Corinthians 5:17). It is no longer we who live, but it is Christ who lives in us (Galatians 2:20). We love our enemies, therefore, as we permit Christ an ever increasing freedom to live - and love -- through us.

Prayer: Lord Jesus Christ, take my will and make it yours. Mold me. Break me if you must, and fill me with an ever increasing desire to let You live through me.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:53 PM 0 comments

Sunday, June 12, 2005
Liturgical Reading for June 13

First Reading: Second Corinthians 6:1-10
Responsorial Psalm: Psalms 98:1, 2-3, 3-4
Gospel: Matthew 5:38-42

You have heard that it was said, 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, offer no resistance to one who is evil. When someone strikes you on (your) right cheek, turn the other one to him as well. If anyone wants to go to law with you over your tunic, hand him your cloak as well. Should anyone press you into service for one mile, go with him for two miles. Give to the one who asks of you, and do not turn your back on one who wants to borrow. (Matthew 5:38-42)

Anyone who says it's easy to live the Christian life hasn't lived the Christian life very long. As Thomas a Kempis observed, "No one undergoes a stronger struggle than the man who tries to subdue himself."

My traffic light experience illustrates my continuing struggle to subdue myself to Christ. When I delayed longer than the driver behind me thought necessary, he leaned on his horn to catch my attention.

Well, he caught it. I still don't know why I did it, but in a heartbeat, my blood pressure exploded through the sunroof of my Chevy. I glared into the rearview mirror, flailed my arms and growled a string of epithets I was later glad he didn't hear.

So much for demonstrating Matthew 5.

Any difficult task like subduing ourselves, holding our tongues, turning the other cheek or going the extra mile requires practice before the doing becomes easier. The alternative is to give others reason to turn from Christ, scorn the Church and reject the message of forgiveness and reconciliation to God.

Practicing humility, patience, self-sacrifice and love is the better option, don't you think?

Prayer: Lord, please grant that I grow in grace to practice Your life until the words I speak and the thoughts I think are always pleasing to You.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net
www.nearlydaybyday.blogspot.com

posted by rich 8:40 PM 0 comments

June 12, 2005 Liturgical Reading

First Reading: Exodus 19:2-6
Responsorial Psalm: Psalms 100:1-2, 3, 5
Second Reading: Romans 5:6-11
Gospel: Matthew 9:36--10:8

“The names of the twelve apostles are these: first, Simon called Peter . . . and Judas Iscariot who betrayed him.”

Peter and Judas, along with the other apostles, shared intimate friendship with the Lord. They lived with Him for three years, ate with Him, heard Him teach, watched Him pray and witnessed his miracles.

Of the Twelve, Peter and Judas are probably the best known. The fisherman denied Christ three times -- once with a curse. Judas betrayed Him for a few dollars.

I hate to admit it, but I have some Peter in me. Under the right circumstances, I also deny my Lord. Peter denied Him out of fear for his life. I’ve denied Him through fear of what others might think. That’s why I’ve not prayed over meals in restaurants, why I’ve laughed at coarse jokes, and avoided inviting neighbors to Church.

If I act like Peter, how can I be certain I'd never act like Judas? And that frightens me. But knowing I could do the unthinkable, I can be alert against it. That’s why I ask the Holy Spirit’s protection over my mind. It's why I meet Christ in the Eucharist and the Scriptures, and why I ask Our Lady’s prayers that the Father will make me steadfast when my feet start to slip.

Perhaps you also recognize how frail and transient our faith can be. Join me then in seeking the same protection.

Prayer: Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us, now and at the hour of our death, that we remain strong in faith and blameless until the day of Christ.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net
www.nearlydaybyday.blogspot.com

posted by rich 1:32 PM 0 comments

Saturday, June 11, 2005
Liturgical Reading for June 11

First Reading: Acts 11:21-26; 13:1-3
Responsorial Psalm: Psalms 98:1, 2-3, 3-4, 5-6
Gospel: Matthew 10:7-13
--------
As you go, make this proclamation: 'The kingdom of heaven is at hand.' Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, drive out demons. (Matthew 10:7)


Catholics who've attended Mass long enough understand Biblical faith is more than just a Sunday morning faith. The Lord commands the Church to bring the gospel into the workplace and classroom on Monday morning.

We also know Biblical faith is more than a verbal faith, something we do only with our lips. The Lord wants us to proclaim His love, forgiveness and grace with our behavior. He wants us to “walk the talk.”

Who wouldn't like God to work instantaneous miracles through our prayers? But the Holy Spirit also gives us opportunities to fulfill His commission through our works. He grants us the privilege to become as Christ to others – to speak kindly to the angry, visit the sick and lonely, feed the hungry, clothe the tattered, to give freely as we freely received.

St. Francis of Assisi urged, "Preach the gospel at all times; If necessary, use words.” That's Biblical faith proclaimed and lived Sunday through Sunday.

Prayer: Holy Father, I am the only Bible some people will ever read. Help me faithfully proclaim your kingdom, living as Christ lived, giving as He gave, loving as He loves. Amen

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net
my other blog:
www.nearlydaybyday.blogspot.com

posted by rich 10:30 AM 0 comments

Thursday, June 09, 2005
Liturgical Reading for June 10

First Reading: Second Corinthians 4:7-15
Responsorial Psalm: Psalms 116:10-11, 15-16, 17-18
Gospel: Matthew 5:27-32

"You have heard that it was said, 'You shall not commit adultery.' But I say to you, everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart." (Matthew 5:27-28)

I know my limits. Take chocolate. I can't eat just a small bag of chocolate chips. I go for a bowl. And sometimes a second. That's why I ask my wife not to buy more than a small bag at a time.

Chocolate is bad enough, but lust – that's an entirely different story. That's a potential killer. I'm embarrassed to admit it's taken so long, but I have learned my limits there, too. And while I might fudge now and then with chocolate, I am meticulous to avoid situations where my eyes can open my mind to unholy images.

That's why I don't go to the beach or pools. I refuse to place myself where half-clothed women routinely stroll. I avoid television – most of what networks broadcast is bad enough -- but it's impossible to avoid R-rated commercials. I keep my gaze under tight control when I pass magazine racks and keep my eyes from wandering when a fashionable woman crosses my path.

What about you? The Holy Spirit will live only in a pure heart. St. Paul told the Corinthians " . . . let us purify ourselves from everything that contaminates body and spirit, perfecting holiness out of reverence for God." (2 Corinthians 7:1)

Oftentimes, part of perfecting holiness is knowing – and living within -- our limits.

Prayer: Father, how can we keep ourselves pure unless you reveal our weaknesses and then strenghten our hearts to obey Christ? Oh, Holy Spirit, make this the desire of our hearts.

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net
My other blog:
www.nearlydaybyday.blogspot.com

posted by rich 9:11 PM 2 comments

Wednesday, June 08, 2005
June 9, 2005 Liturgical Reading

First Reading: Second Corinthians 3:15--4:1, 3-6
Responsorial Psalm: Psalms 85:9-10, 11-12, 13-14
Gospel: Matthew 5:20-26


I tell you, unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will not enter into the kingdom of heaven. (Matthew 5, verse 20)

If anyone was meticulous about the rubrics of their faith – it was the Scribes and Pharisees. If anyone faithfully attended worship services, tithed, prayed and fasted – no one matched their zeal. If anyone was assured heaven . . . .

However, the Lord Jesus told anyone who’d listen, religious works aren’t enough. We need something more. Much more. We need what none of us can attain on our own: the very righteousness of God.

And that’s what Calvary is all about – the righteousness of God credited to us. St. Paul would say it later to the Corinthian church:

”So we are ambassadors for Christ, as if God were appealing through us. We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he (God) made (Christ) to be sin who did not know sin, so that we might become the righteousness of God in him." (2 Corinthians 5:20-21)

The Father made Christ to be Sin. Why? So that we who confess our sins to God and plead for His forgiveness would become the righteousness of God in Christ.

Think of it. When we humble ourselves before God and confess our sins, God clothes us with Christ’s righteouness. Oh, how great is His mercy; how unfathomable His grace.

Prayer: Holy Father, be merciful to me, the sinner. Forgive me for offending you and others. Change my heart. Change my mind. Grow me in love and devotion to the Savior.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net
My other blog:
www.nearlydaybyday.blogspot.com

posted by rich 7:32 PM 0 comments

Sunday, June 05, 2005
How Much Will I Pay?

During Mass today the choir sang a hymn based on these words from Jeremiah 29: For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”

That last statement, “You will find me when you seek me with all your heart” stuck with me, and I realized, the more I seek Him, the more of Him I find. The less I search for Him . . . well, you get the point.

We get what we pay for.

Until I’m willing to pay the price of time, resources and, more importantly, obedience, He will meet me just where I want to meet Him. And I am growing restless meeting him at the bottom steps of a long ladder reaching toward heaven.

All of my heart. Lord Holy Spirit, unite all of my heart to more perfectly seek the Father’s heart.

Amen

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 5:30 PM 1 comments

Monday, May 30, 2005
CPR Works!

This isn't directly related to topic, but it's important:

Memorial Day could have been a most tragically memorable day at
our house.

While Nancy and I were eating a barbeque chicken dinner, she suddenly started choking on her meat. This was no ordinary choking, like sometimes happens when something wants to go down the wrong pipe. This time it WENT down the wrong pipe -- and got lodged halfway in her trachea. And she couldn't breathe. Like, no air was exchanging. Like, do something NOW or this will be a bad night.

I moved behind her and told her to stand. When she did, I did the Heimlich maneuver on her. And just like the CPR classes show in their training videos, meat popped out of her mouth.

Whew!

So, what's the moral? If you don't know what the Heimlich maneuver is -- learn it. Get signed up for a CPR class at your local Red Cross or other health agency. It is WELL worth the money for the Basic Life Support (BLS) class. It's more likely you will be with someone who is choking on food than who passes out with a heart attack (although CPR can buy the person precious minutes while the ambulance is on the way to you).

If you DO know what it is, and haven't recertified in BLS, get recertified -- if for no other reason than to maintain your confidence that you can save someone's life.

And finally, if you ever wondered, "Does that stuff we learn in CPR really work?" I can assure you -- thanks be to God -- it does.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 7:42 PM 1 comments

The Real Enemy

I don't know if the Hollywood version of the battle is true, but the story makes for an interesting spiritual parallel. Tobruk, Libya's north-eastern port city, saw many prolonged and bloody battles during World War II. German troops and their Italian allies recognized the value of its strategic location. So did the British.

During the height of the war, Allied commandos set out across 800 miles of Libyan desert to destroy the German fuel-depot at Tobruk. Several nights into their mission they spotted a dust plume on the horizon. It belonged to an Italian convoy wending its way toward them. Fortunately for the Allies, a large sand-dune hid them from the enemy column. Without safe alternatives, they settled down to wait for the Italians to pass. However,when the convoy reached the other side of the dune, the Italian army stopped their tanks and set up camp for the night. The commandos could do nothing but wait for day-break when the Italians would continue on their way.

The night wore on without incident until commando scouts spotted another string of armored vehicles moving toward them from the opposite direction. This one belonged to Germans.

Caught in the middle, it was only a matter of time before one group or the other discovered them. In desperation, the commandos executed a daring plan. They fired mortars toward the Germans, while at the same time, fired across the sand dune at the Italians. The commandos hoped each army would think the other fired on them.

The plan worked. Within moments the Germans and Italians, their identities hidden by the dark, rained destruction on each other. In the conflagration, the commandos escaped into the night. A few days later, the fuel farm at Tobruk exploded in flames. The small band of warriors successfully completed their mission.

Scripture repeatedly makes the point, probably so we won't miss it: humankind is engaged in a bloody spiritual warfare waged by an enemy whose mission is to destroy us. The only force able to thwart Satan from completing his objective is Jesus Christ's Church -- His Body (Matthew 16:18; Ephesians 6:10-18).

Knowing the Church is an overwhelmingly superior force, Satan has, for millennia, executed a nearly flawless strategy against it. Rather than a direct frontal attack, he hides in darkness, firing volleys of bigotry, pride, arrogance and greed at groups within Christ's Body. Catholics, Baptists, Orthodox, Pentecostals, Methodists, Episcopalians, Lutherans, Nazarenes . . . . Group A, thinking the attack comes from Group B, diverts its energies from the Great Commission and wages battle against their allies. Meanwhile, group B does likewise and groups C through Z soon enter the fray. Before long the Church is embroiled in a seething cauldron, devouring each other -- and freeing Satan to move on toward his ultimate objective.
When the Germans and Italians surrounded them, no one among the small group of commandos cared about the race, political philosophy or denominational label of the person in the next foxhole. Only one thing mattered: work as a team to win the objective.

The Lord of the Church has called us to win our neighbors, friends and co-workers for Himself -- a critical objective if there ever was one. Our mission requires the undivided efforts of everyone on Christ's "team." May God help us to turn our weapons away from each other and take aim against the true adversary.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 8:39 AM 0 comments

Sunday, May 29, 2005
A Change In Purpose and Direction

I’m not sure if a more powerful presentation of the gospel exists anywhere else in Scripture than St. Paul’s words to the Corinthian church:

“If I speak in human and angelic tongues but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away everything I own, and if I hand my body over so that I may boast but do not have love, I gain nothing.”

“Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

“Love never fails. If there are prophecies, they will be brought to nothing; if tongues, they will cease; if knowledge, it will be brought to nothing. For we know partially and we prophesy partially, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away.”

"When I was a child, I used to talk as a child, think as a child, reason as a child; when I became a man, I put aside childish things. At present we see indistinctly, as in a mirror, but then face to face. At present I know partially; then I shall know fully, as I am fully known."

So faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

I post the entire 13th chapter of 1 Corinthians because it speaks directly to the reason I will be modifying my posts on this blog. I began my chronicle of my journey to Catholic Christianity for two reasons.

First, I thought (not sure why I thought this) – I thought I was among only a very few evangelical Protestants who had such an epiphany – that being, God established the Catholic church to be His vehicle of grace on earth.

I soon discovered, however, many other evangelicals have joined the Catholic church in recent years. So, my story, while unique because it is mine, is not so important (to me) that I should continue talking about why I believe all of the Catholic doctrines, such as those involving Mary, purgatory, the Eucharist, and so forth. The fact is, I believe the Catholic teachings, and that is all I think I need to say about those things at the moment -- althought I am sure I will address those issues later simply because the doctrines fascinate me . . . they fascinate me because I missed them in my three decades study of the Bible. But for now, I think more important things should be written. (More about that in a moment).

The second reason I believe this blog should take another direction is rooted in St. Paul’s encouragement to the Corinthian church. I discovered in myself that I’d become so wrapped up in proving to my friends and family I was right about the Church, I didn’t realize how wrong I sounded. I’d forgotten love -- and not doctrine -- is the essence of Christianity. As St. John (chapter 4) wrote,

”Beloved, let us love one another, because love is of God; everyone who loves is begotten by God and knows God. Whoever is without love does not know God, for God is love. . . . If anyone says, "I love God," but hates his brother, he is a liar; for whoever does not love a brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen. This is the commandment we have from him: whoever loves God must also love his brother. “

(PLEASE don't misunderstand me. I do not believe it doesn't matter what you believe as long as you love people. That's not only nonsense, it is heretical. Please keep reading):

Trying to win arguments, I was losing sight of the eternally more important goal of gaining a brother or sister for Christ. And then I realized (to paraphrase Paul), “If I speak with persuasive intellect and reasoning, but do not have love, I am an earsplitting noise."

"And if I have the gift of prophecy and understand all the mysteries of the faith, and have expert knowledge of Scripture and Sacred Tradition; if I have all the right words so as to bring millions into the Church, but do not have love -- I am nothing."

"Nothing."

"But Love, ahh, yes, Love never fails. If there are arguments, they will be brought to nothing; if spiritual gifts, they will cease; if knowledge, it will be brought to nothing.

"For we know what we know about God, the Church and spiritual truths only partially, but when Christ calls us home, the partial will pass away. For, at present, we see indistinctly, as in a mirror, but then we will see Him face to face."

"And so, faith, hope, love remain. But the greatest of these is love."

So, for those two reasons – (that being: 1)why this evangelical Protestant joined the Catholic church is secondary to what Christ is teaching me through the Catholic church and Scripture. And 2), the Christian's purpose is to love people to Christ), my posts will take the direction of encouragement, of exhortation, of challenge, and maybe a little more about why I joined the Catholic church.

I hope you will continue to visit me here.

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 5:57 PM 0 comments

Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Who's Got the Keys?

I believe Pope Benedict XVI is Jesus Christ’s appointed head of the Church on earth, and that he is the direct spiritual successor of the first pope – Peter.

I believe this for several reasons.

First, God is a God of order. Look at the first chapter of Genesis and notice the progression within Creation – each day building on the last.

Then there’s the meticulous detail, page after page, of instructions God gave the Israelites regarding how to live, how to construct the Tabernacle, how to worship, and even what to eat and what to avoid. Surely that's why the modern reader finds portions of Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy boring. I mean, does anyone today really care how many loops each curtain was to have, or that the Israelites were not supposed to eat mice?

As for worship, although Moses spoke to Israel (Exodus 19:6), “And you shall be to Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation,” (verse 6), God also established a class of priests whose responsibility it was to offer sacrifices for the people. And, as you might expect, God imposed specific rules and regulations on Israel regarding the hows and whys and whens to their worship.

Fast forward to the New Testament. Speaking of worship in the Church, the apostle Paul wrote, “But all things must be done properly and in an orderly manner” (1 Corinthians 14:40), and “God is not a God of confusion but of peace, as in all the churches of the saints” (1 Corinthians 14:33).

Next, like any organization, the Church needs a clear chain of command. In an earlier post I told the story of my experience as an ICU nurse. Someone needed to be in charge during that emergency. Likewise, and for precisely the same reason, the U.S. military has a clear chain of command authority. The principle is drilled into new recruits during training and then throughout their careers. A breakdown in the chain of command would wreak havoc in a peacetime force, and would prove deadly during war.

Third, I believe the Lord Jesus chose Peter as the top of the chain, under Christ Himself. That’s why He said to Peter “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven,” (Matthew 16:19).

For the three decades I read that passage, I never understood what the Lord was saying to Peter. But the first century Christians (and Christians in subsequent centuries) understood it. When someone received “keys” they received authority.

To my knowledge the phrase is used only three times in the Bible. The first is in Isaiah 22:22 where the keys (authority) of the house of King David were given to Eliakim: “Then I will set the key of the house of David on his shoulder, when he opens no one will shut, when he shuts no one will open . . . and he will become a throne of glory to his father’s house . . . .”

The next time the phrase appears is in Matthew 16. The last appearance is in Revelation 3:7 when the Resurrected Christ tells John: “He who is holy, who is true, who has the key of David, who opens and no one will shut, and who shuts and no one opens, says this . . . .”

Clearly, (to me, anyway), God chose Peter to lead His church.

Fourth, the early Church Father, men who lived much closer to the time and culture of the first century, recognized Christ’s selection of Peter (and those in apostolic succession after him) as leader of the church. During the months I mulled the concept of Peter’s primacy, I stumbled onto http://www.catholic.com/library/Origins_of_Peter_as_Pope.asp and found more than a dozen quotes from the early Fathers – men well-respected and renowned today among Protestant and Catholic theologians alike. I did a Google search for “early Church Fathers and Peter” and found dozens more.

For example, the Letter of Clement to James (A.D. 221) states, "Be it known to you, my lord, that Simon [Peter], who, for the sake of the true faith, and the most sure foundation of his doctrine, was set apart to be the foundation of the Church, and for this end was by Jesus himself, with his truthful mouth, named Peter."

Origen (A.D. 248) wrote: "Look at [Peter], the great foundation of the Church, that most solid of rocks, upon whom Christ built the Church."

Cyprian of Carthage (A.D. 251) wrote: "The Lord says to Peter: ‘I say to you,’ he says, ‘that you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell will not overcome it. And to you I will give the keys of the kingdom of heaven . . . .’ On him [Peter] he builds the Church, and to him he gives the command to feed the sheep [John 21:17], and although he assigns a like power to all the apostles, yet he founded a single chair, and he established by his own authority a source and an intrinsic reason for that unity. Indeed, the others were that also which Peter was [i.e., apostles], but a primacy is given to Peter, whereby it is made clear that there is but one Church and one chair. . . .”

Are there opposing arguments? Of course there are. I should know because I used many of them when, years ago, I tried to convince Catholics they were wrong about apostolic succession and papal leadership.

Does it bother me that I found the papacy quotes on Catholic websites? Not at all. I was familiar with Protestant arguments against the papacy, and I thought it important to give the other side an opportunity to speak for itself.

I find great comfort in knowing my place in God’s chain of command: Christ as Head, next in the chain, Peter (e.g. the popes), next cardinals, then archbishops and on down to my local parish priest. Does this mean I no longer study God’s word privately and corporately? Of course not. As St. Jerome said, “Ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ.” But after years of arguing points of doctrine with friends among Baptist, Pentecostal, Nazarene and a half-dozen other evangelical Protestant denominations, it’s nice to know when I have a question about doctrine, I can go to the Church for an authoritative answer.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 9:09 PM 3 comments

Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Charismatic Catholic (?)

If you’ve followed my blog since its inception, you know of my Pentecostal background. Last evening I attended a service at St. Charles Borromeo Catholic Church in Tacoma, WA that brought back to my mind all those wonderful memories of worship.

I’d heard about the Catholic Charismatic movement many years ago, but because I was steeped in evangelical Protestant theology, I never gave the Catholic movement much thought -- until this past Sunday after Mass. Our priest told the congregation the parish would sponsor a Charismatic healing service Monday evening (May 9). Fr. Jay and the prayer team visiting us belong to the Western Washington Catholic Charismatic Renewal (WWCCR), out of the Seattle Diocese (http://www.wwccr.org/).

More from curiosity than anything else – I wondered what a Catholic Charismatic service would look like - I made plans to attend. I’m glad I did.

With few notable exceptions, the service was like any other charismatic service I’ve ever attended. I guessed 350 people sang worship choruses (if you’re familiar with Michael W. Smith, Hillsong, Amy Grant, Steve Greene, Keith Green, you’ll know the kind of music I’m talking about). We raised our hands in worship and praise. Many of the congregants sang softly in their prayer language (what Pentecostals call “tongues”). The homily encouraged us to live more devotedly to the Lord Jesus Christ, to share our faith with others. Fr Jay challenged us to bring them the message of hope and salvation, the forgiveness of sins and the healing of mind and body. The altar was filled with penitents seeking more of God. When the priest laid hands on us, several slumped to the floor. Pentecostals know this as being “slain in the Spirit.”

The notable exceptions? The priest followed the liturgy, and the sacrament of the Eucharist was clearly central to the service. “There is great healing power in the Eucharist,” the priest told us. "Likewise," he added, "the sacrament of penance is key to renewal." Through penance, “God heals our relationships, relationships with each other and with God. We do ourselves a disservice,” he gently hammered the point home, “by avoiding confession.”

Another exception was the orderliness of the service. Most charismatic services I’ve attended over the past 30 years were punctuated by boisterous prayers, shouting praises to God, and loud wailing. Last night’s service was nearly silent by comparison. I prefer it that way. It’s hard for me to do business with God when the person in the next pew is shouting praise to God, or the one behind me is praying so loudly in the Spirit that I can hardly hear myself think.

I am grateful our parish priest, Fr. Mike, brought the WWCCR to us to share the love of Christ and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit. I understand Fr. Mike has also established a bi-weekly charismatic prayer meeting at St. Charles Borromeo. The first service will be held May 23.

I’ll let you know what it’s like.

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 8:27 AM 4 comments

Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Routinely Unfaithful?

Close friends gave me a Day by Day Bible desk calendar for Christmas. You've probably seen them. It's the kind that has tear-off sheets for each day of the year. Each sheet has a Bible verse. I've referred to the pages nearly every day I've been in my office.

The gift didn't surprise me. From all external signs, she and her husband of fifteen years seemed a model Christian couple. They attended Mass each Sunday and sent their two children to Catholic school.

A few months after they gave me the gift, her husband discovered she had been routinely unfaithful to him for more than a year.

I know it happens all the time -- people go to Mass, say the prayers, read the Bible . . . even teach Catechism classes. But beneath the religious activity lurks a Judas.

Yes. It happens all the time, but what concerns me, what causes me to tremble, is to think it might happen to me, that I might fail miserably in my responsibility to walk in a manner worthy of my calling.

No one walks away from Christ overnight. It's a slow process, a day at a time, a compromise, another excuse, another rationalization . . . and the heart hardens by degrees.

That's one reason I bring myself to the Father every morning -- every morning -- in prayer, study of His word, worship. I do it because, frankly, I know, given the right circumstances, I can deny Him three times, or worse. I could betray Him.

And so can you. Any of us can prove to be routinely unfaithful -- to our Bridegroom.

Lord, help us labor without ceasing to remain honest and pure. And holy.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 3:09 PM 1 comments

Sunday, April 24, 2005
The God of Another Chance

Why do I believe, as does the Catholic Church, that the Lord Jesus gave to Peter the "keys of the kingdom"? Why do I believe our current pope, Benedict, is the direct spiritual descendant of the great apostle? I'm working on those thoughts, letting them percolate until I can (hopefully) articulate them well. But for now, I thought this piece would be an appropriate (and encouraging) post:
--------------


If anyone had reason to count himself unforgivable and unredeemable, it was the apostle Peter. The fisherman-turned-disciple lived with Jesus for three years. He enjoyed a special intimacy with the Lord known only to two others -- James and John. During those years, Peter and the rest of the disciples spent hours talking with the Lord. They listened to Him share His heart. They ate with Him, watched Him raise the dead, walk on the sea, turn water to wine, and feed thousands with only a few fish and some bread.

Then things took a sharp turn. It started in the Gethsemane Garden. During the Lord's lowest hour, Peter fell asleep. When soldiers and Jewish leaders dragged Jesus before the civil and religious authorities, Peter cowered and swore, "I don't know the man." Not just once, but three times.

I'm not sure I could have recovered from that memory. If I'd been guilty of that thrice denial, my words would have echoed and re-echoed in my thoughts like rocks bouncing against cavern walls as they fell toward a dark and unreachable bottom.

Yet, the more I think about Peter's fall, the greater comfort I find -- not because of his failure, but because of his recovery. That recovery holds the key for all of us who repeatedly stumble toward the Kingdom and wonder if we can get up again.

If we should get up again.

What would the Church look like today if Peter had slipped into the shadows of history overwhelmed by his shame? How much less would we understand the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ without St. Peter's two letters in the Bible? How much longer would it have been before Gentiles, like Cornelius and his family and friends, heard the gospel? How many first century Gentiles are in heaven today because Peter discovered, as all of us -- believer and non-believer -- must discover: God is the God of Another Chance.

The Fisherman is only one of countless examples of that magnificent truth. King David is another. After his sin with Bathsheba, David wrote one of the most passionate psalms of repentance in Scripture (see Psalm 51). St. Paul never forgot his role in Stephen's death, but he rose to bring the message of forgiveness and eternal life to a world locked in hopelessness. Despite their sins, the woman at the well found grace to start over (John 4), the Prodigal son discovered his father's arms wide open (Luke 15), the thief on the cross entered Paradise with his simple act of contrition (Luke 23). History resounds with the great news that God offers another chance to everyone who repents, no matter how often they fall.

I need to know that. We all do. What Christian doesn't blush from a personal and intimate understanding of St. Paul's agony, "What I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do . . . what a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?" (Romans 7:15,24)

Who, indeed?

Scripture promises. "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9). "As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear Him" (Psalm 103:13). Nothing "will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Romans 8:39).

Another Chance begins each time we come to the Father, confessing our sins and turning from them. When all our theology, philosophy, ideology and doctrine are stripped away, the Lord Jesus is the reason we can get up and start again.

His matchless and enduring love for us, despite our failures, is the reason we should get up and start again.

"There is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Immanuel's veins," a church hymn reminds us. "And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stain."

May the Holy Spirit help us remember our Father -- the God of Another Chance - always offers His hand of forgiveness and reconciliation to everyone who comes to Him in repentance.

We need only to lift up our eyes to see Him.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:22 PM 2 comments

Thursday, April 21, 2005
Random thoughts for 4/21

"But God raised Him up again, putting an end to the agony of death . . . ." (Acts 2:24). The note in the margin of my Bible comments on that phrase, "agony of death," indicating the Greek is better translated, "the birth pangs of death."

What a word-picture that is! Our lives don't end in death, resulting in blackness and nothingness. Just as a child is brought into the light of life through the birth pains of his mother, so the child of God is brought into the light of eternal life through the birth pains of death.

Death is no victor. The grave has no sting. The resurrection of Jesus proves once and for all time, we too shall be raised to eternal life through the grace of God, and the birth pains of death.

Hallelujah.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:51 AM 0 comments

Wednesday, April 20, 2005
A Random Thought About John 17:19

"For their sakes I sanctify Myself, that they themselves also may be sanctified in truth." (John 17:19)

I looked up the word, Sanctify, in my dictionary. It means, "set set apart for God."

Jesus set Himself apart to the Father from His own desires and needs. And He tells us why He did it: so you and I might be set apart for God, too.

Fathers -- may God help us sanctify ourselves, set ourselves apart for God, to avoid even the appearance of sin, that our children might also become set apart for Him.

Moms -- may God help you sanctify yourselves, to avoid even the appearance of sin, so your children will grow in sancticty and dedication to God.

Husbands and wives, may God help us sanctify ourselves, set ourselves fully apart for God, to avoid even the appearance of sin, that our spouses may also be drawn to sanctity.

Church -- may the Holy Spirit help us all to sanctify ourselves, to avoid even the appearance of sin, that the unchurched may desire to be sanctified themselves to the Holy Trinity.

amen

rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:46 AM 0 comments

Saturday, April 16, 2005
REPS and Imitating Jesus (part two)

(This is a continuation of part one).
------------


So, how might we learn to better reflect Him?

The answer is easy in theory, but not so in practice. As the Holy Spirit often reminds me, reflecting Christ requires self-discipline in areas of my life I prefer to stash in the get-to-it-when-I-can corner.

Except for those with overabundant natural talents, no one gets really good at anything without repetitive practice. Weightlifting re-taught me that lesson two years ago. I’d avoided exercise with all the excuses I could invent. Too busy, too tired, to hungry, too rushed. As a result, the muscles in my arms and chest felt like mashed potatoes. I could hardly carry groceries from the trunk into the house without pulling a ligament.

At the gentle urging of my wife, I developed a weight training program that moves me around various weight stations in the gym. I focus on specific muscle groups, repeating exercises three times at each weight machine. Weightlifters call the repetitions, “reps.”

And reps work. After two years in the gym, I’m no Arnold Schwartzenegger – but I can carry more than two bags in from the garage.

Repetition is a key component in virtually anything a person wants to do well, and becoming more like Jesus is no different. Reps – spiritual reps -- can strengthen our relationship with Christ and with others.

Here’s how I perform my spiritual REPS.

“R”epentance. I practice frequent repentance and, when necessary, the sacrament of Penance. Repentance does at least two things for me. It provides opportunity to humble myself before God. “God is opposed to the proud,” St. James warns, “but gives grace to the humble.” And attitude of humility says to God, “Yes, Lord, I am wrong. I make no excuse for my sin. For Jesus’ sake, please forgive me and, with his precious blood, cleanse me from my sin.”

Repentance also allows the Holy Spirit to work grace in my life, change my heart and place me back on the right path toward holiness. The Catechism of the Catholic Church (1468) states: “The whole power of the Sacrament of Penance consists in restoring us to God’s grace and joining us with him in an intimate friendship . . . Indeed, the sacrament of Reconciliation with God brings about a true ‘spiritual resurrection,’ restoration of the dignity and blessings of the life of the children of God, of which the most precious is friendship with God.”

“E”ucharist. I practice regular attendance at Mass. More than that, though, when my mind wants to wander, I force it to stay focused on what I should be doing – responding to the liturgies, meditating on the Crucifix, and preparing my heart to receive the Body and Blood of my Lord. Focusing on Christ during the Mass often has a profound effect on me. Who can appear before Christ’s very Presence in the wafer or cup and harbor arrogant thoughts? Who can take His Body and Blood to our lips and yet embrace an air of superiority toward others? His presence purges more deeply than the coal from the altar that cleansed Isaiah’s lips (Isaiah 6:6).

“P”rayer. I practice frequent prayer. St. Jude encouraged Christians to "build yourselves up in your most holy faith; pray in the Holy Spirit." St. Paul wrote to the Christians in Rome, "For we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings. And the one who searches hearts knows what is the intention of the Spirit, because it intercedes for the holy ones according to God's will." (Romans 8:26-27)

When it comes to prayer, as with everything else that is good and right, the Lord Jesus is our example par excellence. Consider how often the Lord separated himself from the challenges of His life and ministry, to pray. If God in the flesh knew He needed to pray, can we get by without it?

“S”cripture. I practice daily Scripture reading. Two chapters each day of the New Testament and I finish it in four months. Two chapters a day in the Old Testament and I complete it in about fourteen months.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church (141) states: "The Church has always venerated the divine Scriptures as she venerated the Body of the Lord." And no wonder, because Scripture, as St. Paul told Timothy, is "capable of giving you wisdom for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. All scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for refutation, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so that one who belongs to God may be competent, equipped for every good work" (2 Timothy 3:15-17). That’s probably why St. Jerome recognized: "Ignorance of Scriptures is ignorance of Christ."

You and I are the only representatives of Jesus some people may ever see. What do they see when they see us? “The night is nearly over,” St. Paul wrote to the Roman Christians. “The day is almost here. So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light. Let us behave decently, as in the daytime . . . .” (Romans 13:12).

The Church has much yet to do for the Master, and who knows when night will fall on any of us? That alone is good reason for Protestant and Catholic, male and female, blue collar and executive, to treat others as Christ would treat them.

REPS will help us do that.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 1:25 PM 2 comments

REPS and Imitating Jesus (part one)

You might have noticed I deleted my post "Theory and Practice." I was unhappy with the way I wrote it . . . I needed to clarify a few things that caused others to miss the point I was trying to make (that being, Christians need to imitate Jesus). So, I revised it, and post it here. Part two is on its way momentarily:
___________________


I never understood the animosity some Protestant friends felt toward Catholicism. It’s true Protestants and Catholics differ on a number of theological issues, but to assume every Catholic who confesses the Nicene Creed, who repents of sin, loves Jesus and strives to imitate Him is lost in heresy always seemed ludicrous to me. Was St. Augustine a heretic? Brother Lawrence? St. Francis of Assisi? Mother Teresa and Pope John Paul II?

“Come on,” I thought. “Buy a clue.”

So, I expected hostility from some of my friends when I joined the Catholic Church. But I didn’t expect Ed’s reaction.

"I have a great idea for you," he emailed. "You might consider planting a Roman Catholic Church in heaven. You could plunk down the Catholic tradition on top of the Word of God. And since Mary is accorded attributes that only God has you would somehow need to arrange for her to receive much worship. I don't have that figured out yet."

Ed and I have known each other more than 30 years. My wife and I met him and his wife, Eva, at an overseas Christian ministry where they worked. When Nancy and I married a few months later, they signed the legal documents as our witnesses. During our spiritual infancy, Ed and Eva mentored us. We shared meals, prayed and studied Scripture together.

That’s why Ed's sarcasm did more than surprise me. It hurt

However, what I didn't expect when I joined the Catholic Church was the treatment Nancy received from some Catholics. It's happened too often for it to be an anomaly. Each time I'm introduced as a new Catholic, parishioners greet me with broad smiles and firm handshakes. But when they learn Nancy's a Protestant, they turn a cold shoulder to her. I've been embarrassed, and not a little angered, when their eyes glaze over and they turn their full attention back to me. It’s as if Nancy suddenly becomes invisible.

The Lord Jesus never said the world would know us by our correct doctrine. He said, "This is how all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." (John 13:35).

St. Peter did not tell Christians to respond to others with sarcasm or an air of superiority. He wrote: "Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope, but do it with gentleness and reverence" (1 Peter 3:15, 16).

Who hasn't been hurt by another believer? I've walked with Christ for more than three decades, and my experience tells me loveless interaction among Christians - regardless of church affiliation -- is pandemic. And I’ve been as guilty as the next person.

It might sound like a cliché, but the statement resonates with truth: if we are not part of the solution, we are part of the problem. St. Paul said it long ago, and it is just as true today: “If I speak in human and angelic tongues, but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing” (1 Corinthians 13:1-2).

If we fail to reflect Jesus, especially to those who disagree with our doctrines, then rituals and religious words are like vapors in the wind. Christ died even for those who didn't agree with Him. Shall we live differently?

So, how might we learn to better reflect Him?

See my next post.

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 1:18 PM 0 comments

Sunday, April 10, 2005
Darkness Shall Flee

As I prepare my next post regarding our relationship with Christ, and how our relationship interfaces with the Theory and Practice, I thought I'd post these thoughts:

--------------------

They always came out at night. While I shivered under the covers, they creaked from the corners of my room and rustled past my bed. The night-light only made things worse as its soft glow gave ghostly shape and substance to my imagination.

But as I grew older, my fears slipped unnoticed into the distant memories of childhood. Shadows in the dark and creaks in corners no longer troubled me. I simply ignored them.

I can not pinpoint the time when I no longer feared the dark. As I matured in my understanding of the world around me, I slowly realized there weren't any monsters lurking in the corners of my bedroom. Those images were simply pranks of an over-active imagination. And besides, my parents were in the other room. What did I need to fear?

As a young Christian, I also feared shadows -- spiritual hues of gray and black : Does God really love me enough to forgive me for all the horrible things I had done? Does He really know who I am and how I hurt?

However, as I grew older in my relationship with Christ, the lurking shadows of fear slipped unnoticed into the distant memories of my spiritual childhood. They no longer trouble me because I examine each one them against the light of God's word and the Church's teaching.

I can not pinpoint the time when the fears of my early Christian walk faded. But as I matured in my faith, I understood that God can be trusted to keep His promises. A well-grounded faith extinguishes all the fiery arrows of fear and doubt. Besides, the heavenly Father is always with me. What do I need to fear?

I don't fully understand how a child matures into an adult. Surely, it is not just a matter of physical aging. But Scripture is clear how a believer matures in Christ. St. Paul wrote, "...faith comes from what is heard, and what is heard comes through the word of Christ" (Romans 10:17). The writer to the Hebrews added, "we must consider how to rouse one another to love and good works. We should not stay away from our assembly . . . but encourage one another . . ." (vv. 10:24-25). And St. Jude instructed: "But you, beloved, build yourselves up in your most holy faith; pray in the holy Spirit" (Jude 1:20).

Spiritual maturity is not an accident. Nor does it occur automatically with age. It is achieved by design, the result of diligent study of God's Word, regular fellowship with other believers -- especially at Mass, and passionate prayer.

Darkness can be very frightening, driving us under the covers and longing for daylight. But those with a mature faith in Christ can have a confidence which overcomes any fear -- regardless of how dark it may seem.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:12 PM 0 comments

Friday, April 01, 2005
A Good Day to Die

“Today is a good day to die.”

With those words, our priest began today’s Mass. He was thinking, of course, of the deteriorating condition of Pope John Paul II.

Today is a good day to die – for a Christian. Any day is good because, having served God in faithfulness, walking in a manner worthy of our calling, living a life of repentance and service, death is no conqueror.

“Where, O death, is your victory?” St. Paul declared. “Where, O death, is your sting? The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."

St. Paul concluded his remarks to the Corinthian Christians, “Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.” (1 Corinthians 15)

The Church will grieve when our Pope leaves us. And for good reason. He is a remarkable man of God. But death is no victor here. It is a defanged and anemic foe.

I believe our priest today was right. Today – any day – is a good day for Pope John Paul II to die.

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 2:28 PM 0 comments

Sunday, March 27, 2005
My Reception Into The Church

Last night, during Easter Vigil, I was received into the Catholic church. If you've been following my posts, you know it’s been a long journey, but not at all arduous.

I know now God has been leading me to this decision for some time. Seven, eight years. Maybe longer. Time gets away from me now that I’ve hit past the half-century mark. However, His will became clearer two years ago when I deployed overseas and, through a series of discussions with evangelical Catholics – Catholics who shared their faith and love of God with me -- I began studying Catholic theology in light of Scripture and church history.

I am grateful to God for where I’ve been and where I now am. My Protestant faith grounded me in a love for Scripture, for worship and for prayer. I look forward to joining those riches with the richness of the Catholic faith.

Fr Anthony Trapani received me into the Church. After he prayed over me, he asked if I wanted to say a few words to the congregation. I’m glad he gave me that opportunity. I asked the church -- and I ask you, as you read this – to pray for me.

I told my Catholic brothers and sisters I’ve been a Protestant Christian for a long time. For three decades I “protested” the Catholic faith -- belief in the primacy of Peter, the Church's role in setting doctrine, of sacred tradition, Marian dogma, purgatory and a host of other Roman Catholic beliefs.

“What I don’t want to happen,” I said, “is that I become a Catholic-protestant – a Catholic who attends Mass, yet “protests” the Church’s teaching about, for example, abortion, birth control, sexual sins or anything else the Church requires the faithful to believe and practice.”

Because the Lord Jesus established the Catholic church as His Emissary on earth, protesting Her guidelines is protest against Him.

I want to be done with protesting.

Let me share one more thing that happened to me last night. During the liturgy, we read Exodus 15. If you remember the story, God led the Israelites through the Red Sea. When the Egyptians chased after them, God closed the waters and swallowed the entire Egyptian army.

As Israel looked at their dead enemies, “Miriam, Aaron's sister, took a tambourine in her hand, while all the women went out after her with tambourines, dancing; and she led them in the refrain: Sing to the Lord, for he is gloriously triumphant; horse and chariot he has cast into the sea.” (Exodus 15:20-21). Read chapter 15 and you’ll find virtually all of it is devoted to Israel’s song of deliverance. It must have been a joyous celebration.

And then we come to verse 22: “Moses led Israel forward from the Red Sea, and they marched out to the desert of Shur. After traveling for three days through the desert without finding water . . the people grumbled against Moses, saying, "What are we to drink?"

It gets worse. A few verses later they grumbled because they didn’t have any meat. What they then said amazes me each time I read it: "Would that we had died at the Lord’s hand in the land of Egypt, as we sat by our fleshpots and ate our fill of bread! But you had to lead us into this desert to make the whole community die of famine!" (chapter 16, verse 3).

Talk about ingratitude. Israel had the corner on the market.

Ummm. Well, not really. I do a pretty good job of muscling in on that market myself.

As I now make my way deeper into the Catholic faith, pray for me that I not be like the Israelites, singing hymns of deliverance during Mass, hearing the word of God, sensing His presence as I kneel in the pew. . . only to grumble almost as soon as I leave church about a hundred annoyances and hardships of life.

“Christ is Risen.” The church has proclaimed that wonderful news for two thousand years. And the faithful have responded: “He is Risen, Indeed.”

Pray for me – pray for the Church – that we live a resurrected life, without protesting, without grumbling, without looking back toward our Egypt.
Pray that I – we – will always walk in a manner worthy of our calling, loving the Savior and obeying Him.

A Blessed Easter to you all.

rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net
www.nearlydaybyday.blogspot.com

posted by rich 12:31 PM 3 comments

Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Perfect Prayer Partners

I've been asked, "Do you really believe in asking the dead to pray for you?"
Let me tell you why I now do. (I am still preparing my thoughts for the last of my Sola Scriptura posts).
--------------


I think everyone in the Pentecostal church I attended called her Mother Horner. And for good reason. If God heard anyone's prayers, I knew He heard hers. She served the Lord Jesus the better part of 65 years before He called her home. She and her husband spent decades of as missionaries in Europe. They established churches and founded Bible colleges across the southern part of the United States. You couldn't stand next to her without sensing her deep friendship with Him.

She was Mother to virtually all younger women in the church and confidant to those near her own age. People flocked to her after worship services. They called her at home. They stopped her in the supermarket. Whenever someone needed prayer for healing, a better job, a strained relationship, people knew she would touch God for them.

But I never asked her for prayer. It's not that I didn't need God's help. I needed it plenty, especially in those years. My kids got sick as often as anyone else's. I lost my job twice during the ten years Nancy and I attended that church. And, like most everyone else, we had our share of marital tension. But I never wanted to impose on Mother Horner. She seemed too busy with others. And my needs seemed trivial compared to the serious stuff going around our church at the time - deaths, cancer, divorce, children caught in drug and alcohol addictions.

In retrospect, I know I was foolish to keep myself on the sidelines while others brought her their prayer requests. I was young in my faith and too self-conscious to approach someone I considered unapproachable. So I lived those years praying for myself and asking others to pray for my kids, my jobs and my relationship with Nancy. And God worked wonderful things in our home as a result of those prayers.

But as my faith matured, I realized family and friends - even saints like Mother Horner -- are not always as focused on others as we might perceive them to be. Life gets in their way. A multitude of personal commitments, responsibilities, and minor crises jostle for their time and attention. Sometimes they simply forget to do what they promised.

It happens to all of us. How often have I promised friends I would pray, only to get inundated with mortgage payments, problems on the job, or family obligations? Without realizing it, my good intentions slipped to "whenever I remembered it." Too often I remembered it when I spotted them at the mall.

In thirty years of walking with the Lord, I never articulated the thought, but, oh, how I wanted a perfect prayer partner, someone who was never too busy, or preoccupied. Someone who never forgot to pray for me. But such a thing could never happen this side of heaven.

Or, could it?

I remember August 31, 2003 as if it happened last week. I can tell you where I was and what I was wearing. I can even tell you the time. Nine-fifteen in the evening. I remember it so well because that was when I first asked Mary, the mother of God, to pray for me.

I suppose for Catholic Christians, asking Mary's intercession is not unusual. Catholics routinely (at least, that's my perception) ask Saints such as Mary, Joseph, Paul, Elizabeth, or Anne for prayer. But for someone like me who has attended Evangelical Protestant churches for thirty years, asking the "dead" for prayer seemed analogous to attending seances or reading Tarot cards and astrological charts.

I believed "real" Christians ask the living for prayer. Not those in their graves.

I don't know why, in all those years, I never understood the Lord's comment to the Sadducees in the context of prayer. "(God) is not God of the dead," the Lord Jesus chided, "but of the living, for to Him all are alive" (Luke 20:38). Nor do I know why the Lord's conversation with Moses and Elijah on the Mount of Transfiguration never set me questioning my conviction that Christians don't go around talking to dead people. Moses had been "dead" a long time by then. Elijah had been in heaven for several centuries, as well. Yet, the Lord Jesus engaged in a lengthy discussion with them.

Suddenly a flood of Scripture texts swept across my memory. Luke's gospel records a glimpse into a conversation between people beyond the grave (Luke 16:19-31). If the Rich Man interceded for his brothers to Father Abraham, "so that they won't come to this place," might any of the Saints living on the other side of the grave intercede for us who live on this side? St. Paul wrote about our family in heaven (Ephesians 3:15). What family is not concerned for its other members? The writer to the Hebrews
reminded the first century Christians, "you have approached . . .the heavenly Jerusalem . . .the assembly of the firstborn enrolled in heaven . . .and to the spirits of the just made perfect" (Hebrews 12:22-23). The Church in heaven is as alive - more alive -- than we on earth.

On and on the evidence unfolded around me. God gave the Church a wealth of prayer resources. Perfect prayer partners, partners who live in eternity where time and space don't exist. The Saints in that great cloud of witnesses (Hebrews 12:1) are always available to us. They're never tired, ill, hungry, or busy. They pray as fervently for us about "big" needs as they do for minor ones.

Scripture instructs Christians to pray for others (e.g. Ephesians 6:18-19; 1 Timothy 2:1-3; James 5:14-15). And I am grateful for family, friends and all the Mother Horners who care about me enough to bring my needs before God's throne. But I am also grateful to now realize that if God hears the prayers of those on earth, surely He hears the prayers of those around His throne: St. Mary, St. Peter, St. Elizabeth and all the others - "spirits of righteous (people) made perfect" (see Hebrews 12:23).

We could never hope for more perfect prayer partners.

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 6:16 AM 0 comments

Friday, February 04, 2005
Very happy to tell you . . . .

If you are following my posts, I will be quiet for a few weeks while I am out of town (military training as well as some vacation).

However, I wanted to share with you that I will be received in the Church during the Easter Vigil late in March.

rich

posted by rich 11:47 AM 1 comments

Friday, January 21, 2005
Can We Pray?

After King Solomon died and his son, Rehoboam ascended the throne, God split the kingdom – Judah in the south and Israel in the north. If you remember the story, the division occurred because of the king’s sin. You can read about it in 1 Kings 11.

Scripture is clear that a divided Israel was not God’s original plan. Even after the division, His prophets foretold a time with He would reunite the kingdom. Ezekiel chapters 34-37 are just some examples.

What might have happened if, before the division – or even after it – what might have happened if Solomon, and all Israel, repented, turned from their rebellions and cried to God for mercy?

Knowing the mercy of God as we do, world history would be different.

During the last several months – eighteen, actually – I’ve grown increasingly aware of Church divisions. Baptists, Pentecostals, Anglicans, Orthodox, Roman Catholics, Methodists, Seventh Day Adventists, Nazarene, Wesleyan . . . the list is nearly endless.

I wonder if a fair analogy might be drawn between Israel’s division and the division of the Church that occurred in the early 1500s when Martin Luther nailed the Church leadership's sin to the door. And I wonder what God might have done if the Church leadership of the day, as well as the people, repented, turned from their rebellions and cried to God for mercy?

Knowing the mercy of God as we do, world history would be different. The Church would not be divided into a bazillion camps. We would be unified in purpose and holiness, and our world would not be writhing in the grip of Satanic forces as we see all around us.

Yes, there are serious doctrinal differences among us. But how many of those differences are directly traceable to an unwillingness on behalf of Church leadership, then and now – as well as of the laity -- to pray for unity, to seek it as a pearl of great price, as if our very lives depended on it?

To a great extent, it does.

The Psalmist wrote long ago: “O Lord, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity” (Psalm 133:1). The Lord Jesus carried that theme into His High Priestly prayer (John 17): “I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. . . . that they may be one as we are one: I in them and you in me. May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.”

Recently, as I read through the ninth chapter of Daniel, I stopped two verses into his prayer and realized, with minor changes, I, as well as Christians everywhere, could pray Daniel’s prayer -- with the minor alterations I've incorporated here -- for the Church:

“O Lord, the great and awesome God, who keeps his covenant of love with all who love him and obey his commands, we have sinned and done wrong. We have been wicked and have rebelled; we have turned away from your commands and laws. We have not listened to your servants the prophets and apostles, who spoke in your name to our kings, our leaders and our fathers, and to all the people of the Church.”

“Lord, you are righteous, but this day we are covered with shame-the people of your holy Body, the Church, both near and far, in all the countries where you have scattered us because of our unfaithfulness to you. O LORD, we and our kings, our leaders and our fathers are covered with shame because we have sinned against you. Lord, you are merciful and forgiving, even though we have rebelled against you; we have not obeyed the LORD our God or kept the laws you gave us through you servants the prophets and apostles. All the Church has transgressed your law and turned away, refusing to obey you.”

“Therefore the curses and sworn judgments written in the Law of Moses, the servant of God, and in the Gospels and epistles have been poured out on us, because we have sinned against you. You have fulfilled the words spoken against us and against our rulers by bringing upon us great disaster. Under the whole heaven nothing has ever been done like what has been done to the Church. Just as it is written in the Law of Moses, and the New Testament writings, all this disaster has come upon us, yet we have not sought the favor of the LORD our God by turning from our sins and giving attention to your truth. The LORD did not hesitate to bring the disaster upon us, for the LORD our God is righteous in everything he does; yet we have not obeyed him.”

“Now, O Lord our God, who brought your people out of sin with a mighty hand and who made for yourself a name that endures to this day, we have sinned, we have done wrong. O Lord, in keeping with all your righteous acts, turn away your anger and your wrath from the Church, your Body, your Bride. Our sins and the iniquities of our fathers have made your people an object of scorn to all those around us.”

“Now, our God, hear the prayers and petitions of your servant. For your sake, O Lord, look with favor on your desolate sanctuary. Give ear, O God, and hear; open your eyes and see the desolation of the Church that bears your Name. We do not make requests of you because we are righteous, but because of your great mercy. O Lord, listen! O Lord, forgive! O Lord, hear and act! For your sake, O my God, for the sake of Jesus, do not delay, because your Church your people bear your Name.”

Amen

Church, for the sake of Christ's most precious Body and Blood, can we pray for unity, repentance and humility?
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Rich
Rmaffeo@comcast.net

posted by rich 10:55 AM 0 comments

Thursday, January 13, 2005
Love So Amazing

I will explain the reason(s)I believe God has led me to the Roman Catholic church. But to do so before I lay some groundwork, as I attempted to do in the last several posts, would be unwise of me. I didn't make my decision overnight to accept the distintive doctrines of Roman Catholicism. That decision occured after more than 18 months of "searching the Scriptures," as Luke tells us in Acts, "to see whether these things were so."

I ask you to bear with me for a few more posts. I hope, in doing so, you will understand why I am where I am.

I wrote this article more than a year before I knew God was leading me into the Catholic Church. This is another example of what God was doing in my life long before I knew what He was doing in my life.

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I've taken to wearing a crucifix. That might not seem unusual; lots of people wear one. But for an evangelical Protestant who, for the past 30 years associated the crucifix with Catholicism, wearing one might seem a theological faux pax. A religious blunder.

My decision to wear a crucifix has nothing to do with differences between Catholic and Protestant thought. It has nothing to do with religion. My decision is rooted in a growing sense of adoration for the Son of God who permitted Himself to be nailed to a cross, and then suffer and die on it.

That image, playing on my thoughts even as I write this, makes the empty cross seem sterile. Bloodless. Tidy. When placed beside a crucifix, a cross simply does not stir my heart as much as one adorned with the crucified Christ.

I know the cross -- with or without the figure of Jesus -- encapsulates the gospel message. It represents the great news that God gave His Son as a blood sacrifice, to pay the penalty for our sins . . . for my sins. It's a symbol of the Father's love extended to men and women, offering them the way home.

For years, when I looked at the empty cross, my mind moved quickly from Calvary to the empty tomb. But now, when I look at the figure of Christ on the cross, the empty tomb moves into clearer perspective. Friday's cross was dirty, rough, hard and splintered. On those blood-soaked beams Jesus suffered -- suffered -- a torturous and labored death. But without that Friday, there could be no Resurrection Sunday.

There is yet one more reason I wear the crucifix.

If not for Jesus' substitutionary death for me, I should be the one hanging on a cross. It's where I belong. The lies, the lusts, spiteful words, hateful thoughts, arrogant pride and worse -- I'm the one who sinned, and continues to do so. Not Him. I should hang there, ravaged by thirst. Not Him. My back should be ripped into shreds of flesh. Not His. Electrifying pain should sear across my arms as spikes lacerate nerves in my wrists. Not His.

During the day, when I catch my reflection in a mirror, or absently touch my chest and feel the crucifix beneath my shirt, my mind turns -- if only for a moment -- from mundane tasks, plans and expectations, to thoughts of my Savior. And my heart stirs when I realize how much he must love me to do what He did on Calvary.

For many years I've sung a hymn written by Isaac Watts in the 18th century, "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross." Part of the lyrics are, "Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, or thorns compose so rich a crown? . . . Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all."

The crucifix reminds me of that love and of that sorrow. It reminds me of the thorns, the nails, the blood, the death. And it reminds me of what my response to such love requires: My soul, my life -- everything I am, everything I have, everything I hope to be, must be devoted to Him. As John the Baptist said, "He must increase, but I must decrease" (John 3:30).

The crucifix has become, for me, much more than something identifying a denomination. It has become a reminder of the price the Father was willing to pay to save the lost, comfort the hurting, and embrace the lonely.

How can I -- how can we -- not cherish Him who adores us so much?

Rich
rmaffeo@comcast.net
www.nearlydaybyday.blogspot.com

posted by rich 10:16 PM 0 comments



In the beginning . . .

I can tell you the day I decided to commit my life to Jesus Christ: December 25, 1972. I can tell you where I was at the time: A barracks on the Yokosuka, Japan naval base. I know what I was doing immediately preceding my prayer: reading a book about Bible prophecy – The Late Great Planet Earth, by Hal Lindsey.

But I can’t tell you when I discovered I belong in the Catholic church. That process was more gradual. In retrospect, I now see I’d been drawn to the Church for several years, but I didn't realize where I belonged until mid-way through my six-month deployment overseas in 2003.

More about that, later.

I came into the Christian faith when I was 22 years old. You can read about it here. At the time, I didn’t know the first thing about Christian doctrine or what Scripture taught about virtually anything. Yet, when I decided to follow Jesus (actually, I now know He permitted me to find Him), I knew I’d found the proverbial Pearl of Great price. I dove into my new life with a fervor of a parched deer looking for water.

I devoured Scripture. I threw myself into prayer. I attended home Bible studies and Sunday school classes. My lifestyle changed literally overnight. My friends, with whom I’d caroused only the weekend before, scratched their heads when I nearly accosted them with what I’d discovered about Jesus.

After a few weeks, they stopped scratching their heads and began avoiding me.

For my part, I was amazed they couldn’t see what I had seen in Scripture. Jesus loved me. Me. Oh, the joy of it all. In spite of my drug abuse, sexual immorality – even the abortion I talked my girlfriend into having – Jesus really loved me.

And yet there was more. He forgave me. Completely. Fully. Mercifully. Graciously. He paid the penalty my sins deserved and bought my complete and utter pardon with His precious blood. He died for me so that “I” wouldn’t have to be eternally separated from the Holy, Holy, Holy God.

My co-workers heard me talking about Jesus and invited me to church services the next Sunday at the navy base Protestant chapel. They also invited me to their weekly Bible study. Before long my path as an evangelical Protestant was set.

Roman Catholics can learn a valuable lesson from this. We should learn a valuable lesson.

If I’d met evangelical Catholics – by evangelical, I mean Catholics who loved talking about Jesus to others, who loved studying the Bible together and individually, Catholics who worshipped God with their hands raised in spontaneous adoration of Jesus, whose prayers bubbled up from the depths of their souls -- I might have come home to Rome much sooner.

Please don’t misunderstand my criticism. Many (most?) Protestant Christians don’t meet this standard, either. But the young men and women I met in my formative years as a Christian did. And the Holy Spirit used them to birth in me a growing hunger to know Christ better. That hunger, by the grace of God, has persisted to this day – waning and waxing at times, but yet persisting.

I only wish they had been Catholic because I missed so much during those years I'd been a Protestant. I pray my criticism stirs Catholics to be as missionaries to their neighbors, co-workers and families.

I asked a Catholic friend recently, “Why don’t Catholics study the Bible as fervently as evangelical Protestants?”

Mark is himself a convert from a Pentecostal Protestant denomination. His answer encourages me, and I believe he is on to something wonderful. Perhaps prophetic. He said, “I believe . . . the Lord is bringing thousands upon thousands of committed, biblically literate Evangelicals into the Catholic Church these days. As we flow in, the level of biblical literacy is rising dramatically, and in one hundred years I believe that individual American Catholics will be fully biblically literate. It’s already true in the Third World where Catholic people have fewer diversions and a greater commitment to Scripture.”

As my Jewish momma often says: “From your mouth, to God’s ears.”

Holy Spirit, Fire Of God, inflame our passion for the Bread of Life. Warm us to Your word. Open our hearts to long for the Lamp that gives light to our path.

Amen
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Tuesday, January 11, 2005
My Unfolding


Although raised in a Jewish home, the closest I ever came to religion was when I drove past a synagogue. So when I stopped at a traffic light, the thought caught me by surprise: "What if there IS a God?"

Even though I knew nothing about God's word, I DID know that, if He existed, He would not approve of my use of drugs and women, thefts and self-centered lifestyle. I would have to change.

But I didn't want to change. So, as the light turned green, I decided the simplest course of action was ignore the question.

But God did not ignore me. Several months later, while walking toward my apartment, I spotted an ant hill along the sidewalk. Hundreds of the little creatures scrambled back and forth in what appeared haphazard motion. Then I remembered from my high school biology class that ants are vital to the ecosystem. Without their irrigation of the soil, much of the earth's plant life would not be possible. That meant ants were part of a precise ecological structure. Structure implied someone who did the structuring. However, by the time I reached my front door I had forced those thoughts from my mind. I knew where they were heading and I didn't want to go there.

For the next two years my life careened in an almost hypnotic flow of careless living. But a nagging emptiness followed me. Something was wrong, although I didn't yet know what it was.

Thinking I needed a change of scenery, I joined the Navy in May 1972. That October, I spent Yom Kippor (the Day of Atonement, the holiest of the Jewish holidays) alone in my barracks and for the first time in years look honestly at myself. I did not like what I saw. My lifestyle . . . my life was terribly wrong. Worst of all, I didn't think I could change. I pulled my journal from the shelf and wrote, "God, forgive me for my past sins, and look with tolerance on my future sins."

Two months later the Navy assigned me to Japan. While in my barracks, a roommate offered me a copy of a book on Biblical prophecy. Amazed, I leafed through the pages and read the hundreds of Messianic Prophesies in the Jewish Bible. For example, Isaiah 7 foretold Messiah's virgin birth; Psalm 22, His crucifixion; Isaiah 9:6 told of a child who would be called "Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace."

Then I read the 53rd chapter of Isaiah. The ancient Jewish prophet spoke of Jesus' sacrificial death which paid the penalty for my sins:

"But He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all."

After reading and re-reading the Old Testament Scripture, I suddenly realized not only did God love me, but because Jesus bore the punishment for my sins, I could be forgiven.

On December 25, 1972 I prayed, "God, I believe that Jesus is the Messiah." Not a very long prayer, but God saw my heart and knew I was committing my life and my lifestyle to His control. I rose from my knees and immediately flushed the marijuana I had in my room down the toilet. The pornographic magazines went into the trash bin and my language got a hefty dose of soap. I began telling others that God had forgiven me of every rotten thing I'd ever done.

In 1972 I didn't understand very much about what commitment to Messiah meant. But I did understand that I needed His forgiveness and His help to change my life. I understood the simple promise of Scripture: "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life" (John 3:16).

If God did this for me, He will do it for anyone. "For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord" (Romans 6:23). He only waits for someone to look toward Him.

Rich
Rmaffeo@comcast.net