The challenge, then, was to defeat the contender to the throne and get into the city of Rome.

Meanwhile the Christians throughout the empire had to be wondering about the fate of their persecuted community now that Constantius had died.  He had been a protector of Christians, whose personal fortunes seemed to have been tied to the whims of a succession of fickle and even insane Emperors since the very beginning of the Church.

What our early Christian brothers and sisters wanted from their government was first of all the freedom to worship and to proclaim the gospel to their neighbors without fear of losing their livelihood — or their very lives. But optimally, they hoped for more.

They hoped for what we American Catholics hope: for the chance to bring to bear upon the decisions of government the values of our faith – the upholding of human dignity and the sanctity of human life.  We would like for our country to be the holy land that we pray for it to be:

America, America, God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood, from sea to shining sea.

And our early Christian friends were no different.  What they wanted was for the Roman Empire to be holy.  They wanted the emperor to acknowledge the sovereignty of God, to recognize as Lord the King of Kings, Jesus Christ.  For this very thing, generations of Christians had prayed while others, equally devout, concluded that such a thing was a sheer impossibility.

The night before he faced the army of Maxentius at Milvian Bridge, Constantine saw a vision of a Cross in the sky, inscribed with the words, “In this sign conquer.”  Trusting in the vision, he had his soldiers paint the sign of the Cross on their shields. The much greater force was defeated and Constantine became the first Roman emperor to embrace the Christian faith.

Directly after his victory Constantine granted tolerance to Christians and next year he issued at Milan the famous edict of tolerance granting Christians and all others freedom in the exercise of religion.

One of our dear Christian brothers of the time, Lactantius, expressed the feeling of emancipation and gratitude they all felt: “We should now give thanks to the Lord, Who has gathered together the flock that was devastated by ravening wolves, Who has exterminated the wild beasts which drove it from the pasture. Where is now the swarming multitude of our enemies, where the hangmen…?  [G]od has swept them from the earth; let us therefore celebrate His triumph with joy; let us observe the victory of the Lord with songs of praise, and honor Him with prayer day and night.”

Christians were released from the prisons and mines, and greeted with great shouts of joy by their brethren; the churches were overflowing; and those who had fallen away under the pressures of the persecutions sought forgiveness and were restored to communion.

But the Roman Empire would not last.  Constantine had been fighting Germanic barbarians before he became emperor and the struggle to defend the long borders of the empire would finally be lost about 150 years later.  And in contemplating this event, St. Augustine would pen The City of God, a monumental treatise on the relationship between worldly power and the Kingdom of Christ.

Ever since an emperor became Catholic, Christians have had to grapple with the proper balance between holding and exercising political authority and submission to the apostolic authority of Christ.  It has been a struggle, and from the beginning of it, Catholics have erred in sins of commission and sins of omission — both in using power illegitimately and in failing to use what power they had to do the good they could have done.

Since Constantine, we have conquered many times under the sign of the cross, but conquered best perhaps, as Our Lord did, not merely under, but on the cross.

So it is with the ten lepers (Lk 17:11-19). He does not heal them outright. He requires something of them: “Go show yourselves to the priests” (Lk 17:14). Now, this seems an unreasonable command. Lepers were banished from the public and liturgical life of Israel. They were forbidden contact with anyone. More to the point, lepers could approach priests only if they were already healed — so that the priests could confirm the cleansing. But our Lord does not heal them first and then send them off. Rather, He tells them to go before there is evidence of healing — the very thing that human wisdom would advise against.

And yet the lepers set out on this seemingly ridiculous errand. They trust in His command — as absurd as it sounds — and they obey. Trusting that they will be healed, they go to show themselves to the priest. And because of their faith, they receive the miracle: “As they were going they were cleansed” (Lk 11:14). Our Lord Himself points out the relationship between their faith and His miracle. When the one leper returns to give thanks, Jesus says, “your faith has saved you” (Lk 11:19). What worked the miracle was not just our Lord’s healing power, but also the leper’s faith in action.

In this miracle and others our Lord manifests the pattern of salvation. God’s grace does not work without our trust. He will not force reconciliation, healing or holiness upon us. We must participate in the healing He desires to give. Imagine the lepers had refused our Lord’s command. Imagine they said, “No. Heal us now before we go.” Or, going further, imagine if the man born blind resisted and obstinately refused to go and wash. Imagine when our Lord commanded him to get up and walk, the paralytic responded, “Make me.”

Such refusals would be absurd. But no more so than when we, willfully or by neglect, refuse to cooperate with our Lord’s grace. That is, when we ask Him for something but do not act in trust. When we receive the Eucharist and expect it to produce effects in us without our cooperation. When we attend Mass and expect to “get something out of it” although interiorly we are far away from the Sacrifice of the altar. When we pray for help in marriage but do not avail ourselves of the natural and supernatural aids available. If we ask our Lord for things, we should do so in trust — and act on those prayers in trust. Like the lepers, if we believe we have already received it — it will be ours (cf. Mk 11:24).

It is time to come home.  There is nothing to fear, no sin so great the Lord won’t forgive you.  He died for you because He loved you so much.  How could He not forgive any sin you’ve repented of?

Unless you go to a newly ordained priest yours won’t be the first confession he’s heard with your sins or the first time he’s heard a confession of a person who’s been away for so long.  There are a lot of now-devout Catholics who had been away from confession for decades.  You’d be amazed at how many people’s last confession was in eighth grade or for Confirmation.

I know many people worry about what the priest’s reaction might be after so long.  The priest may struggle to control himself but not so that he won’t yell at you, but because he’s probably so thrilled he wants to dance a jig.  Priests live for this.  This is probably one of the biggest reasons he became a priest, why he sacrificed so much, in order to reconcile sinners with a loving God.  To give absolution and help someone return to the Church after so long must be one of the greatest experiences of a priest’s life.

I once went to a mission of Father Groeschel’s, author and teacher on EWTN.  What I most remember about the mission was Father begging people to contact everyone they knew who had been away from confession for a long time and get them to come to him for Reconciliation.  Father repeatedly said they wouldn’t have to worry about the Penance.  He would do their penance.  Father’s attitude is probably typical of the priesthood.  They gave up basically everything, high paying jobs, marriage and a family in order to serve God and bring people back to God.  Bringing people home to the Church after a long time makes their sacrifices worthwhile.

It doesn’t matter that you forgot how to go to confession.  All you have to do is show up wanting to make a good confession and Father will guide you through it.  Just tell Father, you forgot how to make a confession.

You don’t have to go to a parish where people might know you. You can ask a Catholic friend about a good priest that he or she is comfortable with.  Often you friend will volunteer to go with you.  I know one guy who walked his buddy into the confessional and introduced him to the priest and left.  I once took someone and went to confession first to make sure it was the gentle priest I had talked about.

You can look in the Yellow Pages to find a Catholic Church in another city.  You can look up Catholic shrines on the internet and call to make arrangements.  I used to go to confession at St. Joseph’s Shrine in New Jersey and there were always lines.  A lot of people like to go outside of their parish.  I know when I taught in a parish school I always went to neighboring parishes and would see my fellow parishioners.  Often parishes have special penance services during Lent and Advent when they bring priests from other parishes.

There is a special feeling after you’ve gone to confession.  You’re free of all the muck.  Additionally you receive grace to resist the sins you’ve committed before.  The more you go to confession the more grace you receive, the more you are able to resist sins.  After a while you’ll be amazed at the fact that you’ve virtually eliminated some of your greatest weaknesses with the Lord’s help.  I’ve heard several talks on confession on CD and both Scott Hahn and Vinny Flynn said that not only were they happier after confession but their family members were happier.  Confession made them better people to be around.

As strange as it may sound many priests go to confession as often as once a week even though for them it means traveling some distance on a regular basis.  I’ve read that Pope John Paul II went to confession on a daily basis.  Mother Teresa was another who practiced frequent confessions.  If these people go so often we lay people definitely need to be going more often.

At Medjugorje it has been said that Mary strongly suggests confession once a month.  At Fatima she proposed that we make the practice of Five First Saturdays.  This practice involves going to mass and communion, saying the rosary and then meditating on the rosary for at least fifteen minutes and going to confession within eight days.  If you have difficulty meditating you can read a book on the rosary for fifteen minutes.  If you do these things for five first Saturdays in a row in reparation for your sins and those of the whole world you will be saved.  Mary promised this at Fatima.

It doesn’t mean that you do this and go back to your old sins.  My experience is that you receive graces that enable you to resist sins and keep going to confession.  Personally, I get irritated with myself if I don’t get to confession at least every four weeks.  It bothers me if something interferes with my plans to go to confession.  More often I don’t wait.  There’s a retired priest in my parish that makes himself available for confession after weekday masses every couple of weeks and I go to him then because you can get a lot of good advice when there is no one behind you on line.

It may surprise you to hear that confession is often a pleasant experience but in my experience it is.  It is good to hear that God is pleased with you, to have a regular confessor notice that you’ve gotten better or to tell you stop beating yourself up.  We’re all human, just keep working at it.

It is never too late for anyone to come home.  God is waiting and Jesus promised the angels will celebrate in heaven.  You can come home even in the hospital on your death bed but why wait?  Why not get rid of the fear and guilt now?  Why not be free of the junk now?  Why take a chance on missing the greatest love you’ll ever know?  Come home.

Lord, I want to come home.  I don’t want to wait any longer.  Show me where to go.  Guide me and give me the courage I need.  Give me the grace of true repentance.  Help me.  Amen

Have you moved any mulberry trees lately? If you have, I’d be willing to bet that it involved a great deal of back-breaking labor and some heavy machinery. As I heard this Gospel, I thought, “Wow! If I had enough faith, I could clean my house with a lot less effort.” Obviously, that isn’t the case.

What, then, is Jesus trying to tell his Apostles and us in this Gospel?  Jesus liked to use exaggeration to get his listeners attention. This is definitely one of those cases. So, despite the fact that we are unlikely to move any trees or clean our houses simply by believing that it can be so, the message is that our faith can still do amazing things.

Faith is what leads us to prayer. We believe that a higher power is in control. We know that we don’t have to do it all on our own. Honestly, I can’t even imagine trying to get through life that way. We have a God who loves us and is looking out for our best interests. We can talk to Him and ask for help. We can let Him lead us where He wants us to go.

Having that faith does not mean that life will be easy, however. I cringe whenever I hear someone preaching the (false) Gospel of prosperity with its message, “Believe in God and you will have success in this world.” Jesus never promised us success in this world. He never said that we wouldn’t suffer and would never get sick. In fact, he promised the exact opposite. He told us that following him meant picking up our cross, but he guaranteed that it would all be worth it in the end.

We all have metaphorical mulberry trees in our lives, the problems that have deep roots and simply won’t go away. Our faith allows us to believe that those problems will somehow be resolved and the tree will move. Maybe that tree is even there for a reason we can’t fully understand. Sure, it blocks our view and seems insurmountable. We wish it wasn’t there, but our faith is what keeps us going, despite the big obstacle in the way. Plus, we do know and trust that miracles do happen. Prayers do get answered (sometimes even in the way we hoped for!). Sometimes, those trees do get moved in amazing ways. Other times, they move slowly with lots of heavy labor. Jesus didn’t give a timetable for those trees moving into the sea. But, with faith and trust, they do eventually move.

What are the trees that need moving in your life? Do you have enough faith to turn them over to God? Are you able to trust that He knows what He is doing?

Do you know the feeling you have, the one that leads up to those extraordinary moments:  The march to a sports championship, the process to landing the career you’ve always wanted, buying your first home or car.  You work yourself into a frenzy with the longing, aching, hoping, wishing and maybe even praying that something good will finally come your way.

When it finally does happen, the happiness you feel is powerful and exhilarating, but mostly, it’s fleeting.  You’re left with fond memories and great stories to tell, but that sort of euphoric feeling you initially had wanes and life goes on until another similar event happens and you experience that ‘rush’ all over again.

Can that sort of exceptional feeling of happiness continue for all time?

Yes it can. The answer came in an unlikely form.  The Eucharist and my brother.

Separated by three years and a million other things, sometimes it seems we only share the bond of family.  He’s older, smarter, outgoing and gregarious.  And, compared to my road, my brother has had a particularly hard cross to bear on his.  Some of it has been by his own choosing, some because that is what Christ has laid upon his shoulders.

One of my simple nightly prayers has been to ask God to bless him through it all.  The bumps of life hit him through high school into adulthood, marriage, family, death of a child, separation, divorce, and death of our Dad.  It seemed like the proverbial dark cloud had settled in and hovered over him.  My prayers for him took on deeper, longer and more profound conversation with God.

Why did he do the things he did, make the choices he made, why was all this stuff happening to him, what made him pick that way to go, why couldn’t he see or hear or realize or pray or something, and just choose the right path?

I was stupid, and selfish.  His road is his road and mine is mine, no matter how much I wanted him to do things my way.  I needed to change my prayer for him, asking God for His will for my brother, not my will.  God alone knew what he wanted of my brother and how to achieve it.  So how could I help my brother desire God’s will?  I made that my prayer to God.

When he seemed so very far away (having left the Catholic Church and sporadically attending Lutheran services), I should have realized that God had a hold on him through the power of the Holy Eucharist.

It was one of those (faith in) action verbs that I finally said to him one day.  “COME home,” I urged.  He sort of smirked and asked, “Come home, what does that even mean?”  Little did he or I know or realize that our Pastor had been saying ‘put your faith in action,’ for years.  I automatically answered, “It means come back to church.”

He gave me a million reasons why he couldn’t, or didn’t want to, but I kept saying it to him.  Something clicked two years ago; he suddenly started to attend Sunday Mass with my Mom.  The joy began.  After that I suggested another (faith in) action verb to him.  “ASK Father what you have to do to receive Holy Communion again.”  More excuses followed, but somehow I knew God wanted him home.  Earlier this spring, he finally asked.  He sat down with our Pastor, gathered up the necessary forms, and told the story of the road he had traveled to wind up where he currently was at and how he could get back fully and receive the Eucharist.

We waited and prayed.

It was a Sunday, late morning, when I got home from the Mass I had attended.  He had left me a message on my answering machine.  “I wanted to tell you in person, but I can’t wait, I talked with Father after Mass, I have to go to confession, give a profession of faith, and I will be welcomed back as a full member of the Catholic Church and I can receive Holy Communion again.”  Monday morning he met with Father and I surprised him by meeting him for daily Mass and saw him receive the Eucharist for the first time in about thirty years.  It was and continues to be awesome, everlasting joy!  My heart and soul rejoice every time I think of that moment.  Joy is that exceptional happiness.  The gift of our Lord, the Eucharist is indeed eternal.  God’s will, the power of prayer and some faith in action can do marvelous things.  I know it did for both my brother and for me.

So how about us?  We identify more with the apostles’ request in this Sunday’s gospel.  “Lord, increase our faith! (Luke 17:5).

You think the Lord would comfort the disciples when they made this request.  “There, there, now.  Don’t feel too bad about yourselves.  Having faith is hard!”  No, that’s not how he handled it.  His answer appears even a bit harsh: “If your faith was even the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this sycamore tree ‘be rooted up and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.”

Jesus sharpest rebukes, throughout Scripture, are in response to lack of faith.  And his most repeated command in the Gospels is “do not be afraid” which is better translated “stop fearing!”

Why can Jesus be so emphatic about faith and fear?  Is it really our fault if we feel shaky inside before the Goliaths in our lives?  No, feeling shaky is not our fault.  Feelings cannot be commanded.  But faith is not a feeling.  And the fear that Jesus rebukes is not a feeling.  From the biblical accounts of the agony of the Garden, the Lord trembled with fear and dread at the ordeal that was soon to begin.  But notice how he responded.  He did not flee over the top of the Mount of Olives and disappear in the wilderness of Judea.  He stood his ground as darkness approached.  I bet Peter felt a few butterflies as he stepped out of the boat to walk on the water.  He may have faltered later, but at least, unlike the others, he stepped out of the boat.  He refused to be paralyzed by fear.

The Church teaches that faith is one of the theological virtues.  And a virtue, says St. Thomas Aquinas, is a habit, a power or capacity that gets stronger when it is exercised and atrophies when it is not.  So faith is like a spiritual muscle.  We were born with muscles.  Some people choose to develop them, and some do not.  The way you develop them is to exercise them regularly and to do so against ever increasing resistance.  More weight on the bar may mean pain and strain, but it ultimately leads to stronger muscles.

In our new birth from above, through baptism, we are all given the gift of supernatural faith.  Some Christians choose to develop this muscle and some do not.  You exercise it by making acts of faith both in prayer and in action.  Before each Mass, I try to make an act of faith in the Lord’s true presence in His people, in his ordained minister, in the Word of God, and most especially in the Sacrament of his Precious Body and Blood.  When faced with trials, I try to get a hold of my dismay and fear, and make an act of faith in God who has always brought me through troubled waters.  When faced with intimidating problems, I try to walk forward despite the feeling that I may not do as well as David did facing his Goliath.

The only way faith grows is to be challenged.  So it is okay to pray for an increase of faith.  But if you ask for faith, know that this means giving the Lord permission to put more weight on the bar.  When he does, you’ve got to be willing to take a deep breath and lift.  For, as St. Paul says, “God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power and love and self-control (2 Timothy 1:8).”

The majority of the cars entering the facility’s driveway while we were there sped up immediately when they saw the signs and leaflets we carried and the rosaries in our hands.   Most avoided having any eye contact with us, perhaps in a last ditch effort to prevent their consciences from awakening them to the horror of what they were about to do. It was like we were lepers.

We continued to pray. We sang softly and sometimes off key.  We listened to God’s Word.  We encouraged each other and prayed that these women, their escorts and the facility’s staff would know that we were there out of love for them and as instruments of a loving and merciful Lord.  We trusted God would use our presence to make a difference in someone’s life today.

We also watched as cars pulled out, driver and passengers again refusing for the most part to glance at us, anxious to get away from this place — that is with the exception of an obviously distraught young woman in the front passenger seat of a jeep. She used a crumpled tissue to capture the slow trickle of tears flowing from her eyes, receiving no apparent comfort or solace from her male companion.

She turned and looked right at me.  I was drawn to her watery eyes and immediately saw in them the anguish and pain I suspect I would have seen in the eyes of my crucified and suffering Lord had I been at the foot of His cross.  Silently and earnestly I starred deeply into her eyes, hoping that God would allow her to see in us, even now, the image of her forgiving, healing, loving and merciful Lord and His desire to give her new life.

Your presence makes a difference.  Come. Pray.  Be the eyes of Christ.

One of the themes that Paul addresses consistently in these two letters is the need to remain firm in faith and teach clearly and with conviction the basics of the Faith and principles of the Christian way of life to the flock. “Guard this rich trust with the help of the Holy Spirit that dwells within us.” Paul knows that Timothy is facing opposition from non-Christians and even from some Christians who are confused or who have wandered from the path to Christ.

Paul also knows that this aspect of being a pastor can be a real challenge, and so he exhorts Timothy to be strong. “For God did not give us a spirit of cowardice but rather of power and love and self-control.” As Paul calls upon Timothy to be courageous, he links this call with the grace to be full of love and self-control. He is to be courageous and clear in his teaching, but also to be full of charity and self-control. He is not to lord it over the flock, nor to beat them over the head with the truth, but to preach the good news with patience, wisdom, perseverance and charity.

Paul goes on: “Bear your share of hardship for the Gospel with the strength that comes from God.” Christians experience the hardship by learning to live the Gospel before preaching it and by proclaiming it within a culture that does not want to hear it. But part of the hardship is also to fight our natural tendency to speak harshly or rudely out of frustration, anger and impatience with those whose faith is weak and who have been duped by the false arguments of many in our world today. Paul is exhorting Timothy and us to speak with charity, never compromising on the truth, but always mindful of the tone we use, the timing and frequency of our challenges, and the support that we offer to those to whom our words are addressed. Do we spend enough time praying with, encouraging and building up those to whom we are teaching the Faith?

In the light of Paul’s words to Timothy, it is timely to recall that the Church in the United States has named the first Sunday in October “Respect Life Sunday.” We all know that the beautiful, Christian understanding of the dignity of the human person — based upon the word of God revealed in nature as well as Scripture and tradition — runs contrary to moral principles of many in our modern culture. The Church’s effort to proclaim that dignity and help our nation guarantee that dignity at every stage of life is challenged on many levels from various sectors of society. We do well to head Paul’s words to Timothy as they relate to this huge, modern-day battle.

I have been very encouraged in recent years by the faith and conviction of many of the young people in the Church today on this issue of respect for life. I find them embracing in ever greater numbers over the past 20 years the Church’s teaching regarding the dignity of human life from conception to natural death with fervor and devotion. I find them being bold in their willingness to stand up against our culture and to “guard this rich trust with the help of the Holy Spirit that dwells within us.” The number of young people who participate in pro-life organizations and demonstrations, who volunteer at nursing homes, and who advocate for those on death row is growing. I think that a driving force in the effort to proclaim the good news about life is the young Church.

So, Paul’s words to Timothy are ever more relevant today. The young people of the Church need to be encouraged to speak clearly and with conviction the truths of our faith, especially pertaining to the fact that every human being was made in the image and likeness of God and therefore has an inherent dignity given by our Creator. We never have the right to take the life of an innocent human being. We need to encourage them to be courageous in the face of persecution. We also need to travel with them, like St. Paul, as we challenge them, care for them with the love of Christ, invite them to develop virtue and grow in their self-control in the face of opposition, and to remember that we teach loudest with the example of our lives.

Truthfully, most of the things on my to-do lists are mundane. Things like make a doctor’s appointment, take the car in for service, renew a prescription, do the laundry, and bag the trash. I keep a separate work-related one so that when I take out my computer, I know what I need to focus on. Thankfully, I’m no longer in the sleep-deprived haze of early motherhood when I actually had to write “start the dishwasher” on my to-do list or else it wouldn’t get done. Still, my memory is not good and I have too many things to juggle. Without the lists, way too many things would simply drift away, never to be thought of again.

What do to-do lists have to do with setting goals? To-do lists are made up of small doable tasks. They are action items. Do the thing and you get to scratch it off the list. It may go back on the list tomorrow, but for this day the mission has been accomplished.

When people make goals (myself included), it is easy to think big. This is good. It is wonderful to dream. This is where many people get stuck. They can see where they want to be and they can see where they are now. What they don’t know is how to get there. It’s easy to get discouraged – to look at the dream and to throw in the towel. It is so far away. How could I ever get there? What’s the point? At these moments, it is important to note that the road from point A to point B is not one giant step. It is made up of smaller steps, actions that can be placed on a to-do list and accomplished one day at a time.

For example, my Bible study friends and I were all talking about how we would like to rid our homes of clutter. This is a big job. One look around my house (or my friends’ houses) and it would be easy to give up. However, we have started a plan. One of my friends sends out a Facebook message to each of us with our task for the day. These tasks are supposed to take about fifteen minutes a day. That’s doable. It’s currently an item on my actual to-do list – “Clean 15 minutes.” When it is done for that day, it is crossed off. I feel like I have accomplished my goal for the day and my house is slowly getting cleaner. Will my house ever be entirely clutter-free? Probably not, but I will be a lot closer than if I had done nothing.

This process can be applied to almost everything – even our spiritual lives. In this case, the goal is heaven. That’s a big goal. We can take a look at our lives and easily get discouraged. However, we don’t need to look at the rest of our lives in one fell swoop. We only need to worry about today. What are some things we can add to our daily to-do list to help us make spiritual progress? Have you always wanted to read the Bible, but can never seem to squeeze it in? Perhaps you could put “read Bible for 5 minutes” on your to-do list. Everyone has five minutes. Start small. You can always add to it.

Maybe you have always wanted to say the rosary, but never seem to get to it. Start with one decade. Go ahead – put “say one decade of the rosary” on your to-do list. Perhaps you would like to do more to help the poor? On the to-do list could be “pick out 5 food items to donate to a local food pantry” or “Take three items out of closet that no longer fit and donate them.” These are small things, yes. They won’t change the world, but they will be a start. As one becomes accustomed to doing these things regularly, it will be easier to add other things on. You will find you have more time for prayer and spiritual reading. You will find more ways to help the poor. Make small goals that lead to bigger ones. Start walking the road. If you miss a day, start again the next. You have nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

These last few weeks, as we’ve been counting down the “magic number,” even games against the Brewers have mattered. The “magic number” is the combination of Cincinnati wins and/or St. Louis losses it takes to make it mathematically impossible for the 2nd place Cardinals to catch the Reds. As that number has dropped we’ve gotten giddier and giddier at our house.  I even entered the lottery for playoff tickets. (Shhh… don’t tell Mary and the kids – that’s a secret!)  For the Reds and a few other teams, these remaining games at the end of the season actually matter.  But for most, they’re just playing for pride or to be a spoiler for some team in contention.

This countdown to the postseason has got me thinking, what if we had a “magic number” with God?  What if we had some combination of good works and/or sins that determined how we spent eternity?  What if we could “clinch” heaven?  Most baseball teams rest their starters after they clinch, and don’t really worry about the losses after that point.  That might be smart baseball, but in life I’m not sure that’s a good thing at all.

Of course if there was a magic number for  heaven, then it would also be mathematically possible to be sent to hell, wouldn’t it? Can you see St. Peter at the gates – “Yeah, I know you had a strong second half, but Satan piled up way to many wins in the early part of the season.  Do I really have to remind you about your college years? You know, you were actually in the race until the final week, but by that point Satan’s magic number was 1 and that envy last Tuesday sealed it.  Sorry, down you go!”

Good thing it doesn’t work like that.  Our salvation isn’t something we win or lose.  It’s a gift, freely given.  The good works we do aren’t about earning heaven, they’re about demonstrating our love for God and our belief that heaven is already won for us.  They’re about showing the world  the power of God’s grace.

So I guess in a way there is a magic number – One.  It’s just that it’s not ours.  It’s Christ’s. One man. One in being with the Father.  One death.  One resurrection. One Bread. One Body. Once for all.

The reality is, the season is already over. The World Series is finished. Satan has been swept.  Time to celebrate!