In Battle For God

" Jesus said to His disciples: ' The one who feeds on me will live because of me. He who feeds on this bread shall live forever.' On hearing it, many of His disciples said, 'This is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?' Aware that His disciples were grumbling about this, Jesus said to them, 'Does this offend you [to be eating from me]? The Spirit gives life, the flesh counts for nothing. Yet there are some of you who do not believe.' From this time, many of His disciples turned away and no longer followed Him. Jesus had know from the beginning which of them did not believe and who would betray Him. 'You do not want to leave us too, do you?', Jesus asked the Twelve. Simon Peter answered Him, ' Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We believe and know that You are the Holy One.' " [John 6: 60-69].

On the surface, this Reading is about the disciples' loyalty to Jesus. It is an historical story of how Jesus recruited His faithful disciples, to go forth and follow Him.

In some ways, Jesus sounds harsh here. Either you are FOR him, or you are against Him. Can this be so?

Consider the words of  Martin Luther King, Jr. in his teachings in "Strength To Love":  "Evil is stark, grim, and colossally real. . . .  In a sense, the history of man is the story of the struggle between good and evil. . . He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it."

All of us in this world, Christian or atheist or agnostic, face stark choices. We may not realize that we are in battle, but we are! We may not like it, but we are in battle.

I faced such stark choices, even as a child. In my upside down house, I was called ugly every day and sometimes hit. I could have grown up believing that I am inherently hideous and worthless. Then, when I was 13, I found out that I almost died, even as I was being born. I looked up to the sky and said to myself, God meant for me to be here and He has a purpose for me! He knows the beauty in my heart.

My family had horrible names for every ethnic group. A trip in the car with my father at the wheel meant a journey through hate, as he assumed that every driver in his way was a member of some despised ethnic group. I cringed every time I went out in the car. I learned not to judge.

My family proudly announced that they worshipped "The Almighty Dollar".  They used their money to manipulate and control my choices, and to force upon me decisions that were not good ones. I learned that too much money, when coupled with power, can become abusive. When they praised The Almight Dollar, I whispered to myself, 'You mean, Almighty God.'

I could have chosen a life of anger and despair. Instead, once I learned at age 13 that my life was a total gift, I got busy. I chose to live in Love, not anger. Love became a verb for me. I knitted a sweater for the one who hit me. I tended the garden for the one who did not feed me. I did chores for the one who took his anger at life out on me. When I could not do for the ones who seemed to hate me, I sat in my room and sang.

I left home as soon as I could, as you can imagine. Then, I met the man who would become my husband. My parents were furious. He is Catholic. My beloved and I insisted on a church wedding. My parents refused to stand in the receiving line at my wedding.  My new husband and I acted like we did not care. 

A few years ago, my father died abruptly. That left my mother, at an advanced age, physically and emotionally frail. I was the best suited in the family to care for her. I lived near her, I did not work insane hours or travel internationally. Still, when it dawned on me that I was being called to care for the one who had been such a contentious force in my life, I asked,"Why, God, WHY?!' I took care of my mother anyway.

Suddenly, she was in my home most days of the week, sitting at my table, eating my food-- and still  judging others with her ignorant bias, blaspheming Catholics in general and my husband in particular. I had taken her back, after all those years of her neglect and rejection. I found myself, Why does God up the ante on me, time and time again?

I decided that I could not stay strong with my mother in my home, unless I received some spiritual reinforcements. I needed to be closer to God. After a long time of reflection-- and yes, inner battle-- I converted. This is one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life. You see, I wanted it both ways. I wanted my mother to accept me, but I wanted and desperately needed God. During conversion, I hid my Bible and the Catechism upstairs in my home, where my mother did not go; and I tucked my gold cross under my shirt. I converted in secret. 

Then, disaster struck-- after my First Communion, my young son innocently blurted out to my mother: "Mommy goes up for Communion now!" God had upped the ante again.

I fled in panic to my mentor. I asked him, "Do I have to go to Mass at 6:00 a.m., in the dark, when there are only a handful of people there? Do I have to lie to my mother?" I wanted to quit, I wanted to simply hold the Truths that I had learned, silently in my heart. Instead of telling my mother, 'Too bad', I wanted to be a child again and hide who I really was.

He said, "This is NOT about your mother and what she wants. You know what is in your heart. This is what you want. It is what you need." Then, my cousin told me, "You know who you really are." I cried at this. It was the shock of self-recognition.

I returned to church, but I was too afraid to go up for the Eucharist. A few weeks later, the homily was about what divides us from Jesus. The question was asked, 'Do you turn away from Jesus out of fear? Out of pride, because you do not believe that you really need Him? Or, do you turn away from Him in bitterness, because you did not get everything you thought you deserved while growing up?' Ouch! I needed to hear that.

I was faced with the choice between my family and my God, during my whole life-- even as a tiny girl. By grace, I had consistently chosen Jesus' Way. At this point in my life, I was at a crossroads. I needed to ask myself, as Simon Peter did, " To whom [else] should I go?"

I realized that, after all that I had been through, after all the stark choices that I had made, why would my answer be any different?  Would I really want to choose my family's sadly mistaken and tragic ways? Would I really want to choose to go backwards? Or-- despite my fears and resentment at God's challenge, would I stand for Him?

I did choose God, again. I resumed going up the aisle for Communion. When my mother told me not to go to church, I told her, 'I cannot do what I do, without it.'

I find that Communion strengthens my resolve in battle. Yes, I am still in battle. Every day. We are all called to stand up for the right way, in big ways and small, every day. We are all called to make stark choices. We are all called to Battle For God.

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