Thoughts and Prayers

+JMJ+

The Readings for the 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time (B2)


Vade retro me Satana, quoniam non sapis quae Dei sunt, sed quae sunt hominum.
Get behind me Satan, you’re not thinking as God does, but as men do.


At vigil Mass on Saturday night I had the second reading: that passage from St James. Well practiced and ready to proclaim. I think I did good. 


But I sat down having heard it come out of my own mouth.  And I finally heard what James was saying.  We hear it as an accusation today because we don’t feed the homeless and we are, exactly, inclined to say “sorry, no change but here’s my thoughts and prayers.” James was talking to a church that cared for the poor, that fed the hungry. James’ church was known for her charity. James was speaking in hyperbole to a church that would never leave a homeless person hungry on the street. He was saying… look, Faith without works? You might as well say “Sorry, no change, but here’s my thoughts and prayers…”

I can almost imagine the Christians laughing. 

Who would do such a thing?
James was saying, “look you would never do this… so why on earth would you think that believing was enough?”

Their children. That’s who would do this… we would do this. We make a mental masturbation out of the faith when we confess doctrines that have no power. When we can claim to follow Jesus but still give in to our sexual whims or anti-Christian ideas adopted from the cultures around us. When we say the things of Jesus, but do the things of the world we scribble on the toe tag of the faith.


Jesus says “take up your cross”.

The last thing any of us want to do.

Do something, damn it.
Peter says “Don’t do that.”
Jesus you have to do something.
Peter says,”You do enough already… and if they kill you, what will they do to us?”
Jesus says, “You’re Satan”.
The vocations director says “Discernment is an Action Verb”.
My spiritual director says, “You’re a writer? What are you going to do about it?”
My diet doesn’t run itself.
But my inner demon says, just sit here. Stop. You’ll be fine.
It’s not enough to want to be chaste.
You have to do it.
You can’t just believe in the virtues.
You have to acquire them.
Read your office.
Pray hard.
Now get up, get out, and do.
No pain
No gain.
And lots of Satan.


Jesus says “Take up your cross” most of us tend to simply want to wear it like a fashion item.
Jesus say “Sacrifice everything” and most of us think of  football and sneakers.

Our ancestors look at us fighting over sex and money scandals.
They see us in a continual, long, defeatist action of compromise.

Half the Church feeds the homeless but has no sexual morals. All this “pharisee” talk is distracting us from climate issues.
The other doesn’t give two flies about the homeless but can’t wait to purge the liberals out. 
Where’s the church that loves the poor and calls the sinner to repent? Where’s the church that preaches the holy mysteries of the Gospel and calls all the world into 

Where’s the church of faith and works?

Thoughts. And prayers. And Works.

Where’s the church that calls us to charitable actions of repentance and reparation? Where’s the prayer that leads to action? Where’s the weights to be lifted by hands energized (or wearied) by too much prayer?

Jesus, raise us from the dead.

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.