Blessed is the Kingdom is an online forum for the exploration of the Christian faith. I am a priest and pilgrim, attempting to walk the path of conversion.
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The Second Vatican Council declared that the source and summit of the Christian life is found in the celebration of the Eucharist. It is where we come to be both fed and sent. The word Eucharist is derived from the Greek word that means to give thanks. Christians are by their very nature called to be thankful. It is sometimes easy to forget that everything we have is a gift from God. It continues to amaze me that all the gifts God has given me are not based upon anything other than his love. They are not withdrawn when I sin nor are they usually rewarded with increase if I complete a heroic act of faith. God’s love is pure gift.
May we always remember to give thanks for God’s’ great kindness and generosity to us each day.
Are you someone who is interested in leadership? Would you like to know more about how Pope John Paul II led as the head of the Catholic Church? If so, The Pope & The CEO is the book for you.
In The Pope & The CEO, Andreas Widmer describes what he learned from Pope John Paul II during his time as a member of the Swiss Guard and how he later applied that wisdom as a corporate CEO.
Mr. Widmer describes nine essential qualities that any leader should have that he learned from observing Pope John Paul II during his time of service as one of the pope’s personal bodyguards. These nine qualities are: know who you are, know God, know what’s right, know how to choose what’s right, know where you are and where you are going, know your team, live as a witness, live a balanced life, and live detachment.
While Widmer’s insight into the things that are essential for any successful leader are a central part of this book, an even bigger reason one should consider reading this book is his firsthand observations of the daily routines of one of the most important modern saints. As I read this book, I learned more about the daily life of Pope John Paul II that I would not have known otherwise. It helped me to see the human side of John Paul, but also the energy that goes along with a life filled with holiness.
I can recommend this book to anyone looking to improve their leadership skills, but most especially to Catholic business men and women who are seeking a bridge between their faith and the workplace.
The 28th Maxim for Christian Living is to face reality. It is only when we are willing to see things the way they actually are will we be able to grow in our life as Christians. Facing reality means first slowing down enough to hear the things God has to say to us. It means listening carefully to what others have to say about us and discerning which voices are the most accurate.
We live in a world more and more consumed with virtual reality. Social media and the internet can make many things seem real that are in fact an illusion. One way in our modern world that can help us to face reality is to unplug more often. I also can’t help but wonder where our economy might be today if more people had faced the reality of their financial means, rather than having bought into the fantasy presented by lenders.
To live in reality means facing our gifts and our sins as they are. It is a continual process of attempting to be the people God has meant for us to be from the beginning.
But the LORD said to Samuel: Do not judge from his appearance or from his lofty stature, because I have rejected him. God does not see as a mortal, who sees the appearance. The LORD looks into the heart. (1 Samuel 16: 7)
We are called to train our eyes to see as God sees. When we look upon others by the standards of the world, we are likely to miss the truth about the person standing before us. It is only when we take the time to understand the heart of those we encounter do we begin to see clearly.
When I reflect upon Dr. Martin Luther King, I always find myself returning to his words on April 3, 1968, the day before he was assassinated. Today, on our national holiday in his honor, I share some of them here along with this song by Nina Simone.
Let us develop a kind of dangerous unselfishness. One day a man came to Jesus; and he wanted to raise some questions about some vital matters in life. At points, he wanted to trick Jesus, and show him that he knew a little more than Jesus knew, and through this, throw him off base. Now that question could have easily ended up in a philosophical and theological debate. But Jesus immediately pulled that question from mid-air, and placed it on a dangerous curve between Jerusalem and Jericho. And he talked about a certain man, who fell among thieves. You remember that a Levite and a priest passed by on the other side. They didn’t stop to help him. And finally a man of another race came by. He got down from his beast, decided not to be compassionate by proxy. But with him, administering first aid, and helped the man in need. Jesus ended up saying, this was the good man, this was the great man, because he had the capacity to project the “I” into the “thou,” and to be concerned about his brother. Now you know, we use our imagination a great deal to try to determine why the priest and the Levite didn’t stop. At times we say they were busy going to church meetings—an ecclesiastical gathering—and they had to get on down to Jerusalem so they wouldn’t be late for their meeting. At other times we would speculate that there was a religious law that “One who was engaged in religious ceremonials was not to touch a human body twenty-four hours before the ceremony.” And every now and then we begin to wonder whether maybe they were not going down to Jerusalem, or down to Jericho, rather to organize a “Jericho Road Improvement Association.” That’s a possibility. Maybe they felt that it was better to deal with the problem from the causal root, rather than to get bogged down with an individual effort.
But I’m going to tell you what my imagination tells me. It’s possible that these men were afraid. You see, the Jericho road is a dangerous road. I remember when Mrs. King and I were first in Jerusalem. We rented a car and drove from Jerusalem down to Jericho. And as soon as we got on that road, I said to my wife, “I can see why Jesus used this as a setting for his parable.” It’s a winding, meandering road. It’s really conducive for ambushing. You start out in Jerusalem, which is about 1200 miles, or rather 1200 feet above sea level. And by the time you get down to Jericho, fifteen or twenty minutes later, you’re about 2200 feet below sea level. That’s a dangerous road. In the days of Jesus it came to be known as the “Bloody Pass.” And you know, it’s possible that the priest and the Levite looked over that man on the ground and wondered if the robbers were still around. Or it’s possible that they felt that the man on the ground was merely faking. And he was acting like he had been robbed and hurt, in order to seize them over there, lure them there for quick and easy seizure. And so the first question that the Levite asked was, “If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?” But then the Good Samaritan came by. And he reversed the question: “If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?”
That’s the question before you tonight. Not, “If I stop to help the sanitation workers, what will happen to all of the hours that I usually spend in my office every day and every week as a pastor?” The question is not, “If I stop to help this man in need, what will happen to me?” “If I do not stop to help the sanitation workers, what will happen to them?” That’s the question.
Let us rise up tonight with a greater readiness. Let us stand with a greater determination. And let us move on in these powerful days, these days of challenge to make America what it ought to be. We have an opportunity to make America a better nation. And I want to thank God, once more, for allowing me to be here with you.
You know, several years ago, I was in New York City autographing the first book that I had written. And while sitting there autographing books, a demented black woman came up. The only question I heard from her was, “Are you Martin Luther King?”
And I was looking down writing, and I said yes. And the next minute I felt something beating on my chest. Before I knew it I had been stabbed by this demented woman. I was rushed to Harlem Hospital. It was a dark Saturday afternoon. And that blade had gone through, and the X-rays revealed that the tip of the blade was on the edge of my aorta, the main artery. And once that’s punctured, you drown in your own blood—that’s the end of you.
It came out in the New York Times the next morning, that if I had sneezed, I would have died. Well, about four days later, they allowed me, after the operation, after my chest had been opened, and the blade had been taken out, to move around in the wheel chair in the hospital. They allowed me to read some of the mail that came in, and from all over the states, and the world, kind letters came in. I read a few, but one of them I will never forget. I had received one from the President and the Vice-President. I’ve forgotten what those telegrams said. I’d received a visit and a letter from the Governor of New York, but I’ve forgotten what the letter said. But there was another letter that came from a little girl, a young girl who was a student at the White Plains High School. And I looked at that letter, and I’ll never forget it. It said simply, “Dear Dr. King: I am a ninth-grade student at the White Plains High School.” She said, “While it should not matter, I would like to mention that I am a white girl. I read in the paper of your misfortune, and of your suffering. And I read that if you had sneezed, you would have died. And I’m simply writing you to say that I’m so happy that you didn’t sneeze.”
And I want to say tonight, I want to say that I am happy that I didn’t sneeze. Because if I had sneezed, I wouldn’t have been around here in 1960, when students all over the South started sitting-in at lunch counters. And I knew that as they were sitting in, they were really standing up for the best in the American dream. And taking the whole nation back to those great wells of democracy which were dug deep by the Founding Fathers in the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. If I had sneezed, I wouldn’t have been around in 1962, when Negroes in Albany, Georgia, decided to straighten their backs up. And whenever men and women straighten their backs up, they are going somewhere, because a man can’t ride your back unless it is bent. If I had sneezed, I wouldn’t have been here in 1963, when the black people of Birmingham, Alabama, aroused the conscience of this nation, and brought into being the Civil Rights Bill. If I had sneezed, I wouldn’t have had a chance later that year, in August, to try to tell America about a dream that I had had. If I had sneezed, I wouldn’t have been down in Selma, Alabama, been in Memphis to see the community rally around those brothers and sisters who are suffering. I’m so happy that I didn’t sneeze.
And they were telling me, now it doesn’t matter now. It really doesn’t matter what happens now. I left Atlanta this morning, and as we got started on the plane, there were six of us, the pilot said over the public address system, “We are sorry for the delay, but we have Dr. Martin Luther King on the plane. And to be sure that all of the bags were checked, and to be sure that nothing would be wrong with the plane, we had to check out everything carefully. And we’ve had the plane protected and guarded all night.”
And then I got to Memphis. And some began to say the threats, or talk about the threats that were out. What would happen to me from some of our sick white brothers?
Well, I don’t know what will happen now. We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn’t matter with me now. Because I’ve been to the mountaintop. And I don’t mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I’m happy, tonight. I’m not worried about anything. I’m not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.
When I was a newly ordained priest, my friend Fr. Mike Creson made this suggestion. He said, “When you are having a bad day, go ahead and do the things you least like doing but know are necessary.”
Some similar advice is found in this 27th Maxim of Christian Living. No one likes difficult and painful tasks, but one thing I have learned is that putting off painful decisions or tasks only makes the pain increase. The sooner we can face the crosses that are given us by picking them up and carrying them, the sooner we get to the resurrection.
Do you have something painful waiting for you right now? There is no time like the present to deal with it. Even if the situation itself remains difficult, I can assure you that the anxiety will begin to dissipate.
Let us also remember to pray for all those who are facing great difficulties today. Though they may never know of our prayers, the strength of those prayers is real.
