A asked me last evening, what is your desire for your life in this new year and I replied harmony, after some thought. Before harmony can flow, there must first be peace, a peace within myself when my world is spinning and expanding in new, exciting, yet terrifying ways that throw me off kilter. After years of relative calm and stability, the great unknown yawns before me and I am not in a place of comfort. I am full of joy, but I am scared in equal parts.
I feel like Abraham who hears the Lord speak of covenant, a promise of greatness and abundance unimaginable. It is awesome, a dream come true, for the covenant is a bond of love I desire deeply, and yet, it signifies an epic journey and requires a great leap of faith that will propel me into a different stratosphere, one I have not existed in before. Am I up to it? I'd be lying if I said I was wholly confident, but I have said yes with my hand on my heart, and I trust that I will be given the inner resources of the Spirit to carve out a new path that lights the way not just for myself, but for those He has brought into my life.
Going by recent months, I have needed to find peace in my heart by listening to the one voice that matters, filtering out all the voices, my own included, that bring confusion and internal chaos. More than ever, the way forward speaks of the necessity of internal equilibrium that will allow me to act with wisdom and build peace and harmony, as I have always sought to do in life, wherever I find myself. Peace must first begin with me.
In today's second reading Saint Paul reminds the Colossians (1:15-20) that in Christ alone is perfection found, and that all things are to be reconciled through him and for him, whether on earth or in heaven, for Jesus made peace by his death on the cross. As I proclaimed these words today at mass, I felt that they were intended just for me. The only way for peace is through Jesus, laying down my fears and my insecurities, my will and my pride at the foot of His cross. The only way to new life is death of the old ways, my old life.
I like that the liturgy is a constant paean of peace:
Peace be with you.
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to people of good will.
Deliver us, Lord, we pray, from every evil, graciously grant us peace in our days...
Lord Jesus Christ, who said to your Apostles: Peace I leave you, my peace I give you; look not on our sins, but on the faith of your Church, and graciously grant her peace and unity in accordance with your will.
The peace of the Lord be with you always.
Let us offer each other a sign of peace.
The peace of Christ, in Scripture and in the Eucharist, is my gift to the world, only if I first accept this gift with open hands and heart. As Moses reminds the people in Deuteronomy 30:10-14, the Law is not beyond my strength or reach, but it is near me, the Word is in my mouth and in my heart for my observance.
When I do accept the gift of Christ's peace, I find myself less shaken by the noises and distractions of the world. Even if I may not have reconciled myself fully to a situation, I can still speak affirming words of peace and act them out in my life with sincerity. This is the power of the cross, to be able to crucify my own wants and needs so that I can act selflessly, like the Good Samaritan did in today's Gospel. Most of all, to do everything with such grace that no one knows just how much sacrifice it entails. This is peace building at its best.
As P and I find our stride in our relationship, we rely on Christ to help us create peace and harmony in our relationship despite our inevitable differences, and to seek a peace that is not placatory in nature and gesture, but a genuine effort that smacks purely of love and freedom.
I feel like Abraham who hears the Lord speak of covenant, a promise of greatness and abundance unimaginable. It is awesome, a dream come true, for the covenant is a bond of love I desire deeply, and yet, it signifies an epic journey and requires a great leap of faith that will propel me into a different stratosphere, one I have not existed in before. Am I up to it? I'd be lying if I said I was wholly confident, but I have said yes with my hand on my heart, and I trust that I will be given the inner resources of the Spirit to carve out a new path that lights the way not just for myself, but for those He has brought into my life.
Going by recent months, I have needed to find peace in my heart by listening to the one voice that matters, filtering out all the voices, my own included, that bring confusion and internal chaos. More than ever, the way forward speaks of the necessity of internal equilibrium that will allow me to act with wisdom and build peace and harmony, as I have always sought to do in life, wherever I find myself. Peace must first begin with me.
In today's second reading Saint Paul reminds the Colossians (1:15-20) that in Christ alone is perfection found, and that all things are to be reconciled through him and for him, whether on earth or in heaven, for Jesus made peace by his death on the cross. As I proclaimed these words today at mass, I felt that they were intended just for me. The only way for peace is through Jesus, laying down my fears and my insecurities, my will and my pride at the foot of His cross. The only way to new life is death of the old ways, my old life.
I like that the liturgy is a constant paean of peace:
Peace be with you.
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to people of good will.
Deliver us, Lord, we pray, from every evil, graciously grant us peace in our days...
Lord Jesus Christ, who said to your Apostles: Peace I leave you, my peace I give you; look not on our sins, but on the faith of your Church, and graciously grant her peace and unity in accordance with your will.
The peace of the Lord be with you always.
Let us offer each other a sign of peace.
The peace of Christ, in Scripture and in the Eucharist, is my gift to the world, only if I first accept this gift with open hands and heart. As Moses reminds the people in Deuteronomy 30:10-14, the Law is not beyond my strength or reach, but it is near me, the Word is in my mouth and in my heart for my observance.
When I do accept the gift of Christ's peace, I find myself less shaken by the noises and distractions of the world. Even if I may not have reconciled myself fully to a situation, I can still speak affirming words of peace and act them out in my life with sincerity. This is the power of the cross, to be able to crucify my own wants and needs so that I can act selflessly, like the Good Samaritan did in today's Gospel. Most of all, to do everything with such grace that no one knows just how much sacrifice it entails. This is peace building at its best.
As P and I find our stride in our relationship, we rely on Christ to help us create peace and harmony in our relationship despite our inevitable differences, and to seek a peace that is not placatory in nature and gesture, but a genuine effort that smacks purely of love and freedom.
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