Like a Swiss Army Knife

JMJ

The Readings for Wednesday in the 4th Week of Lent (B2)

Dedi te in foedus populi, ut suscitares terram, et possideres haereditates dissipatas; ut diceres his qui vincti sunt : Exite; et his qui in tenebris : Revelamini. Super vias pascentur, et in omnibus planis pascua eorum.
[I have] given thee to be a covenant of the people, that thou mightest raise up the earth, and possess the inheritances that were destroyed: That thou mightest say to them that are bound: Come forth: and to them that are in darkness: shew yourselves. They shall feed in the ways, and their pastures shall be in every plain. 

I looked at these verses long and hard last night. In fact, after drafting a couple of paragraphs that sounded really angry, I fell asleep on the sofa. And woke up and said… nope.

But tonight at Mass, as the reader said “I have given thee…” it came to me, like a punch. A pow.

This prophecy of Christ.
Must be true of his body.
Where has God given you?
If you are a member of Christ’s body, this must be true of you.
Where has God given you?

What people’s language do you speak that no one else speaks?
What unreached tribe have you been sent to?
Where can you – and only you – say “Come forth. Shew yourselves”?

Some of us are called like St Ignatius to travel to China to save the souls of the lost in a far corner.
Some of us are called to the bodega down the street.
Some of us are sent like St Dominic to release a tribe of heretics from the chains they forged for themselves.
Some of us are sent to our family of Episcopalians at Christmas.
Some of us are called like Blessed Stanley Rother to translate the Liturgy into a Language never used before.
Some of us are called to speak the language of the Gospel at a union local, or even a local bar.

We are all called to be apostles. If this prophecy is true of Christ, it is true of you.
What set of tools do only you have?
What book of the Gospel has been written for you to read only to those who are trained up to hear it?

“This is what the past is for! Every experience God gives us, every person He puts in our lives is the perfect preparation for the future that only He can see.”  – Corrie ten Boom.

Where are you set for? How finely tuned are you to be the voice of God in that one place that you are where no one else can speak?

Ready!
Sent!
Gospel.

Author: Huw Richardson

I'm no Benedictine, but I'm too old for the Franciscans. I'm in the process of moving servers... so trying to keep both of my "linked sites" in sync until there's only one. There can be only one. Huw Richardson was born in Atlanta under a different name about 55 years ago. I never knew my father nor any of his kin. I’ve lived all over: I was never in the same house for 3 Christmases until I was over 40. I’ve not yet made it to 4. Rootlessness seems to be a way of life and every time I think I’m about to root, it ends up not happening. Yet I’ve made some amazing friends online. I’ve met some awesome people all over the world. I’ve met religious leaders and heads of state and famous movie stars. I’ve also managed to be debt-free. I’ve stood on the Hill of Tara and touched the Lia Fail. It did not cry out. I’ve kissed the Blarney Stone as well, if you can’t guess. I have illicitly touched ancient, holy statues to see if anything would happen and I have never used flash photography when I should not have. I’ve been a bookseller, a call center drone, a trainer, a convert, a preacher, a monk, a planter, a secretary, a writer, and an activist. My patron is Blessed Stanley Rother. When I’m in trouble, he’s got my back. He prays for me, along with St Rose of Lima, St. Catherine of Siena, St John Henry Newman, Bl Fulton J Sheen, and Bl. William Richardson. I’m a Dominican Tertiary and a member of Courage International. This is home: I’ve found my roots by using my wings. What’s next? I don’t know. Part of me wants to just pick out a camper and gig my way around the world. Part of me wants to own a pub in Ireland and feed my soul with good music until forever. Part of me has always taught. Some part of me dances whenever the moon is full. Another part of me kneels in awe in the darkness as all the stars spin but the cross stands still.