A life of on-going conversion

The gospels for this Season of Lent have taken us from the wilderness, to a mountain top, to a water well in the land of Samaria, and this Sunday, we are just outside the city walls of Jerusalem. That’s the geography of the stories. The themes of the gospels speak of temptation, revelation and listening to Jesus, and in the story of the Samaritan woman at the well, a message about conversion in belief that led to a mission of telling others the good news that the Messiah has come. Today’s gospel not only continues the message of conversion, but tells a story of people blind to the truth of Jesus and so remain unconverted. These are all episodes we encounter and re-encounter in our life. From womb to tomb, from the waters of Baptism to the gates of Heaven, we are called to a life of continuous conversion. From being children of the Light to being the Light for others.

That all sounds very inspiring, but pause for a moment and think about how busy we are with things … good, holy activities that in their own way build the kingdom of God. But have we put our own on-going conversion on hold? Do we think about it? That is the thing about Lent. It asks us to slow down and consider that very thing. It is an opportunity for our reflection to be guided by a verse from the first reading when the Lord says to the prophet Samuel, “man sees the appearance but the LORD looks into the heart.”  What will the Lord find when He looks into our hearts? Of course, it’s our whole life, our being, our thoughts, and more, but what will He find about the conversion on-going in our lives? How would we compare to our 8th grade selves? 

During Lent the Catechumens and Candidates in the OCIA program stand in great relief as an exemplar of conversion. Drawn by the grace of God they all want what we already have – full communion with the Catholic Church. Everyone of the 40+ people in this year’s class has an amazing story of on-going conversion in which they are responding to the grace of God and the prompting of the Holy Spirit. They are certainly an inspiration to the OCIA team and hopefully to you too.

I suspect most of us were baptized as infants, were confirmed while still in grade school, and that maybe that was the last experience of formal Catholic religious education and formation.  That is not to say that your faith has not been deepening in the years since, but, you know… life gets busy, gets complicated, and there’s not enough time for all we want to do. It’s overcome by what we have to do.

Today’s gospel speaks to us when it says, “Live as children of light, for light produces every kind of goodness and righteousness and truth.”  Are we doing that? Are fully, completely, and wholeheartedly living as children of the light. 

The story of conversion in the man born blind is easy to follow. His encounter echoes the very story of Creation itself in Genesis. Jesus takes dirt to create a salve, applies it to the man’s eyes and tells him to wash himself. It is as though the man is passing through the waters of Baptism. His journey is now beginning, marked by grace. Now he can see the physical world and now we trace his spiritual conversion. He describes Jesus successively as: “The man called Jesus” then “A prophet” then “A man from God” and finally, “Lord”, whom he worships. This gradual movement mirrors the journey of faith that Lent invites believers to undertake. 

But what about the others in the story? This man, blind from birth, is well known in the community. His parents, his neighbors, and his religious leaders all experience the miracle. Which one of them echoes the realization and moves from “The man called Jesus” to “Lord”, and then worship? The parents and neighbors hem and haw, missing a moment in their lives to encounter the One who is the Light of the World. Meanwhile, the Pharisees move in the opposite direction: they become more certain and more blind. As religious leaders that means they are the blind leading the blind. There is a telling verse in the second reading. St. Paul doesn’t describe this as “in darkness.”  He says that they are darkness. They are the ones who have witnessed the Light and choose to remain unconverted.

The parents and neighbors? I hope their son returns to them and once they absorb and process the miracle done for their son, free of fear from the religious leaders, they will experience St. Paul’s admonition: “Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will give you light.

In the gospels of Lent, the Church holds up two stories of conversion. The Samaritan Woman came to well alone, she left her jar behind, and she returned to the town as a witness. This is the shape of Christian conversion: encounter, conversion, and mission. She is sent back into life but sent differently – now sustained by the living water of Christ. The man born blind leaves his blindness behind, and I suspect, returns to his life and gives witness sustained by the Light of Christ, trying to live as St. Paul admonishes us in the second reading: “Live as children of light, for light produces every kind of goodness and righteousness and truth. Try to learn what is pleasing to the Lord.

We came to this Season of Lent as we are. What will we leave behind? What will we have learned? Will we hesitate, hem and haw? Remain in darkness? Become darkness itself? Or will we let the living water sustain us? Will we take the remaining days before Holy Week to reflect on what it would mean for us to live more fully as a child of the Light? Figure out what it might mean for us to produce what is good, righteous and true? Will we try to learn what is pleasing to the Lord?  Will we live a life of ongoing conversion that we live fully, becoming the Light of Christ to a world in darkness.


Image credit: Healing of the Man Born Blind, El Greco, 1567, Public Domain

Impression or Conversion

In the gospel Jesus tells the crowd that what truly defiles a person is not what comes from the outside, but what comes from within. What comes out is likely an indicator of the conversion happening within. Take someone’s intentions, attitudes, choices, words – what do they reveal? Holiness? Evil? Either can be rooted in one’s heart.

At the same time Jesus challenges the crowd’s comfortable assumptions about the purity and holiness rituals and laws. They are the external acts that are meant to call people to holiness, to keep them clean and acceptable. But Jesus pushes them beyond that familiarity and says: holiness is not about what goes on outside of you. It is about what is going on inside your heart and are you willing to make that journey of conversion.

The first reading presents a striking image: the Queen of Sheba traveling a great distance to see Solomon. She is drawn by what she has heard: reports of wisdom, order, and blessing. When she arrives, she is overwhelmed. The splendor of the court, the clarity of Solomon’s answers, the abundance of his kingdom and more. Scripture tells us it quite literally takes her breath away. She is impressed. 

But at the core of these readings is the challenge we face to understand the difference between what impresses us vs. what converts us.

What matters most is not that the Queen is impressed, but that she is willing to leave what is familiar in order to seek what is true. She risks the journey. She asks hard questions. And in the end, her admiration leads her beyond Solomon himself to praise the Lord who is at work through him. What begins as amazement becomes recognition of God.

That movement from being impressed to being converted is exactly where Jesus leads us in the Gospel. Our encounter with this life is meant to be transformative.

Let’s be honest, we are easily impressed. We are impressed by appearances, by success, eloquence, beauty, efficiency, even by religious performance. We can be impressed by the look of faith without allowing faith to change our hearts.

Conversion, however, works quietly. It does not always look dramatic. It happens when pride gives way to humility, when resentment gives way to mercy, when self-protection gives way to trust. Conversion shows itself not in what we display, but in what flows out of us. Especially when no one is watching.

External practices are easier to manage. They can be seen, measured, and admired. Interior conversion is harder. It requires honesty. It asks us to confront our intentions, our resentments, our fears, and the ways we protect ourselves.

The danger Jesus points to is subtle but real: we can remain impressed by faith without ever allowing it to change us. We can admire holiness from a safe distance while avoiding the inner work of conversion.

The Queen of Sheba models something different. She does not stay where she is comfortable. She does not rely on secondhand knowledge. She seeks God beyond what is familiar, and because she does, her encounter leads to praise and transformation, not just admiration.

Faith always asks us to move, to travel beyond ease, beyond routine, beyond the exterior practice of religion.   What impresses us may catch our attention. But only what converts us reshapes the heart. 


Image credit: Salomon recevant la reine de Saba |  Jacques Stella, 1650 | Museum of Fine Arts of Lyon, France | PD

Still in Need of Conversion

In today’s reading from Isaiah, we hear a beautiful vision: “The deaf shall hear… the eyes of the blind shall see… the lowly will find joy in the Lord.” These words are full of hope, and we rightly cherish them during Advent. They promise renewal, justice, and a people restored to God. But if we read the whole chapter, Isaiah’s hope comes only after a very hard truth. Before the healing comes the diagnosis. Before the restoration comes the revelation of what is broken.

Isaiah speaks to a faithful remnant, people who want to follow God and so cling to the covenant. But he also tells them that they are still part of a larger community of people who have become blind, deaf, self-satisfied, unjust, and spiritually forgetful. It is a remarkable tension: Israel is both remnant and rebellious; faithful, yet deeply flawed; and chosen, yet still wandering.

That well describe many of us here in the first week of Advent

We are the faithful remnant. We are here at daily Mass listening to the Word of God. We pray. We serve. We try to love our families and neighbors. We want the Lord to come and find us ready.

But we are also the people Isaiah warns. We are not separate from the blindness and deafness he condemns; some of it lives quietly within us. We hear God’s Word, but we can be deaf to the parts that challenge our comfort. We see God’s blessings, but we can be blind to our own patterns of sin. We pray with our lips, yet our hearts drift into distraction, self-protection, or indifference. We want justice, but sometimes resist the personal conversion that justice requires. We admire God’s mercy, but can be slow to offer it to others.

Isaiah is not just speaking to the miscreants and wayward. He is speaking to all of God’s people, including those conscientiously trying to walk in faith. This is why the Church gives us Isaiah in Advent. Not to condemn, but to awaken. Not to shame, but to shake loose what has grown numb or complacent in us. 

The good news is that God does not reveal our blindness to punish us. He reveals it to heal that blindness. Isaiah says: “Those who err in spirit shall acquire understanding, and those who find fault shall receive instruction.”

This is a promise directed not to strangers, but to us. If we admit what is not yet right in our hearts, God will teach us. If we bring Him the parts of us that resist Him, He will give understanding. If we acknowledge our spiritual deafness or blindness, He will open our ears and eyes.

Advent is only a few short weeks, but we can still name our blindness and deafness. And then ask God to show us how we might be part of the problem. We can examine our prayer life. Is it routine? How is our attitude? Are we becoming more jaded? Impatient? Uncharitable? 

Advent is not only about waiting for Christ. It is about making room for Him and making room requires clearing away what blocks the door. But it is also remembering that all this is spoken with a hopeful message surrounding it all: God already sees the remnant in us. He can heal what we cannot. He can restore what looks worn out. He can remove what blinds us or renders us deaf.

Advent offers that grace now that we might be ready, not only as the faithful remnant who hope, but as the people who allow themselves to be ever changed and growing so that the promise of Isaiah will be fulfilled in us: “The lowly shall find joy in the Lord.”


Image credit: Prophet Isaiah, Mosaic, Right of Lunette, South Wall of Presbytery, Basilica of San Vitale | PD-US | Pexels

Inside and Out

Tomorrow is Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion in which we will hear the well-known gospel of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem (from outside), The Passion narrative recounts many events inside the city as do the daily gospel readings. But at the end of the Passion, Jesus is again outside the city, crucified and entombed. There were those who cried Hosanna on Sunday and crucify him on Friday. There are those who swore they would stand by him no matter what and then ran away. With respect to the Messiah, Jerusalem and its inhabitants are a divided city. Continue reading

On the way to Damascus

Today’s first reading is about the conversion of St. Paul. It is an event in history that we note in reference to the place it transpired – the Road to Damascus. It is an event that inspired the great Italian artist, Caravaggio to create his masterpiece, The Conversion on the Way to Damascus. The artwork is located in the Cerasi Chapel of the church of Santa Maria del Popolo, in Rome. Across the chapel is a second Caravaggio depicting the Crucifixion of Saint Peter. On the altar between the two is the Assumption of the Virgin Mary by Annibale Carracci.  It is quite the chapel.

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St. Clare of Assisi

In the last several articles we have described the brothers who gathered around Francis and committed themselves to his way of following Christ. Two of the earliest arrivals were Leo and Rufino.  The first became Francis’ chaplain and confessor, as Leo was an ordained priest already. Rufino, a lifelong confidant and wisdom figure for Francis, was also the first cousin of an aristocratic woman of Assisi, the niece of Monaldo, lord of Coriano.  Clare di Favarone di Offredicio was a woman from the very class of landed aristocrats that the young Francis had imitated and longed to join socially. Continue reading

The Conversion of Paul

Today the Church celebrates the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul the Apostle. It is an event in history that we note in reference to the place it transpired – the Road to Damascus. It is an event that inspired the great Italian artist, Caravaggio to create his masterpiece, The Conversion on the Way to Damascus. The artwork is located in the Cerasi Chapel of the church of Santa Maria del Popolo, in Rome. Across the chapel is a second Caravaggio depicting the Crucifixion of Saint Peter. On the altar between the two is the Assumption of the Virgin Mary by Annibale Carracci.  It is quite the chapel.

Continue reading

Francis of Assisi – The Young Man

The first article of the series about St. Francis essentially proposed that what most people think they know about St. Francis of Assisi is a very limited and romanticized version of the “poor man from Assisi.” Such versions often emphasize the Francis who loves animals, who was an ecologist before “ecology” was a word or a concern, and who wrote the “peace prayer.” The first article ended with a challenge: discover the “real” Francis whose story will challenge, inspire, unsettle, amaze, and maybe…. just maybe, change your world.

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Infinite Mercy

In Jesus’ time, large agricultural operations such as the one described in our gospel parable were rarely run by the owner or the family, such things were left to the steward to oversee. The steward had the full faith and backing of the owner to operate the business. The steward would sell the oil and wheat production for cash, trade, or in exchange for promissory notes. The bartering that preceded the execution of the promissory note was classic commodity bargaining:  I will give you so many measure of oil now, and at this future date you will repay with a higher measure of oil.  There were two thing buried in the difference between the higher amount and the original amount: profit for the owner and commission for the steward. That was the way things worked. Continue reading

Francis of Assisi: the Conversion of Clare

St. Clare of Assisi

In the last several articles we have described the brothers who gathered around Francis and committed themselves to his way of following Christ. Two of the earliest arrivals were Leo and Rufino.  The first became Francis’ chaplain and confessor, as Leo was an ordained priest already. Rufino, a lifelong confidant and wisdom figure for Francis, was also the first cousin of an aristocratic woman of Assisi, the niece of Monaldo, lord of Coriano.  Clare di Favarone di Offredicio was a woman from the very class of landed aristocrats that the young Francis had imitated and longed to join socially. Continue reading