Who Is This Jesus? Whose side do we want to be on? The winners, of course! But unwittingly the people in the gospel story choose to be on the wrong side! At first they “all spoke highly of” Jesus. But then they heard him say what they didn’t like and turned on him. “Today this Scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing.” However, more than one Scripture passage is being fulfilled in this gospel. The words and deeds of Jesus fulfill the Scripture passage from Isaiah about the coming of salvation: glad tidings for the poor, liberty for captives, sight for the blind, freedom for the oppressed. The words and deeds of the people fulfill the Scripture passages about rejecting and killing God’s prophets: they question Jesus’ origins, become furious at his words, and act to destroy him. The people choose the wrong side! Which Scripture passages do we hear? Which do we fulfill? When Jesus challenges the people’s narrowness with the examples of Elijah’s and Elisha’s outreach to Gentiles (Sidon and Syria), they grow furious. Jesus challenged the crowd because the Good News is always broader than selective preferences or limited understanding—yes, salvation would be for Gentiles as well as Jews. While the gospel is always good news, it is not always comfortable because it ever stretches us beyond where we are now. Which Scripture passages do we hear? Which do we fulfill? If we never meet doubt or opposition over values in our daily living, then we must examine how committed to the Gospel we are. Most of us aren’t called “professionally” to preach the Good News. All of us, however, because of our baptism, are committed to living it. Living the Gospel is what must shape our everyday choices and responses. This means, for example, that if the chatter around the watercooler at work grows uncharitable or coarse, we have the courage to walk away. Another example: if prejudice exists among our friends and acquaintances, we have the courage to extol the dignity of the minority. Dying to oneself means that we place Gospel values before any others and are willing to stake our lives on them. We might not always concretely experience God’s protection and deliverance in the given moment; but we know from Jesus’ life that God is there when it really counts—leading us to Life everlasting. Living Liturgy 2016
Do Our Eyes Look Intently Upon Him? Writing an autobiography is not as easy as it sounds. We are immediately faced with choices: Do we strictly tell the facts of our lives, or do we help people get an insight into our likes and dislikes, emotions and feelings, ambitions and goals? How much of what we really are do we want to reveal? As a young novice, we were asked to write an autobiography that was metaphorical and contained both facts and self-revelation. I remember using a song that was popular at the time. How we wrote depended on what we wanted to convey. At the beginning of Luke’s gospel he explicitly states that he sets out to “compile a narrative of the events” of Jesus’ person and mission. He claims that he has “investigat[ed] everything accurately anew.” Luke wants to get it right. He knows how important his writing is—its purpose is to “realize the certainty of the teachings” Jesus brought us. Luke’s story of Jesus, however, is more than facts. In this gospel Jesus clearly proclaims who he is and what he comes to bring. He is One who lives “in the power of the Spirit”; he comes to bring a new teaching. He is God’s anointed; he comes to bring the human community glad tidings, liberty, sight, freedom, favor. He is the long-awaited Messiah; he comes to bring manifest signs of salvation. The “eyes of all . . . looked intently at him.” Do our eyes look intently upon him? Why should we? Because in Jesus is fulfilled all our longings, all our hopes, all our expectations. The same intensity with which the people of Nehemiah’s time heard the Law proclaimed by Ezra is focused on Jesus in the synagogue. Their intense anticipation is met by Jesus’ dramatic assertion that the Scripture passage from Isaiah “is fulfilled” in their hearing. In the first reading Ezra reads from the book of the Law; in the gospel Jesus is the book, the Good News, the Word made flesh. Ezra interprets what he read; in the gospel Jesus himself is the interpretation. Ezra’s word was an inspiring word that had power and moved the people to worship and praise; Jesus’ word is a creative word fulfilled in him and continues in the gospel in which we ourselves encounter Jesus and are moved to be disciples. The feasting, joy, and new strength on the holy day when Ezra read the Law are now fulfilled in a new order in which the feasting is on Jesus and the strength comes from our sharing in the same Spirit. Jesus is enfleshed today in the lives of those who encounter him, the gospel’s very fulfillment, throughout the ages. Now we—our own lives—announce the meaning of the Word proclaimed and enfleshed. We can do so because, like Jesus, in our baptism we also have been anointed with the Spirit. By our baptism we have received a share in Jesus’ saving deeds. As his followers, we make present his saving mystery. Living the paschal mystery means that we continually look for the poor, captive, blind, and oppressed among us. We don’t have to look very far! “Today this Scripture passage is fulfilled” is now true only when we ourselves respond to those around us who need a nourishing, strengthening, joyful word. This means that God’s word isn’t something we only hear on Sunday, but becomes a living word in our hearts, inspiring us to be in our very selves living gospels. As we gradually grow into being anointed by the Spirit, we, like Jesus, are the fulfillment of the Scriptures. Living Liturgy 2016
My Hour Image by He Qi From earliest childhood we have an innate sense that more is better, and we carry that into adulthood. We shy away from scarcity and gravitate toward plenty. We avoid want and embrace having. We seek to have savings, reserves, supplies, extras, storage bins. Of course, we can go overboard on abundance. Yet, we all know that just enough isn’t enough. This Sunday’s gospel is about running out, not having enough. It is about a bride and groom potentially being embarrassed on their most important day. It becomes about abundance signifying that all is well, that love and life abound. It becomes about Jesus’ “hour.” What is Jesus’ “hour”? It is a time of the revelation of God’s immense gift of abundance. In this gospel, not one jar of water became wine, but six. Not a little bit of wine, but over a hundred gallons. Not partially filled jars, but “to the brim.” Not inferior wine, but “good wine.” Not just one sign, but “the beginning of his signs.” More is yet to come. In the “more” is God’s glory revealed. In the “more” is God’s abundance—a sign of the fullness of Life and love God offers us. The epiphany of Jesus’ glory is a sign of the persistence of God’s overtures of love to us, a love so immense that it is not measurable, not able to be contained, not ever exhausted. There are signs of God’s abundant love—God’s most lavish gift to us—all around us. What are the signs? Obvious miracles, yes, in Jesus’ time. But many miracles are still happening today: the gift of life at the birth of a baby, the peace of reconciliation, the warmth of faithful love, the satisfaction of success, the beauty of a sunrise or sunset. God’s glory is revealed in many signs of abundance. At what “hour” do we taste the water that has “become wine”? When, for example, holiness shines from the wrinkled face of an aging parent; unselfishness flows from the actions of a small child; reconciliation heals a broken relationship. Whenever the ordinariness of our lives has been transformed by the power of Christ, we experience an extraordinary gift of grace. The “hour” has come for us Abundance, ultimately, is a sign of messianic times, of God’s fullness of salvation offered to us. This is why Jesus came. In the abundance of who he is, Jesus reveals the fullness of who we might become. God’s glory is God’s Presence. Yes, God’s glory is revealed in many signs of abundance. Most fully in Jesus himself. Most fully in us, the Body of Christ, as we come to deeper belief and continue his ministry. Living Liturgy 2016
The Baptism of Jesus Image by He Qi Eighteenth-century English poet Alexander Pope once remarked that if we expect nothing, we shall never be disappointed. Such a low bar we might set for ourselves! Yes, great expectations might disappoint by blinding us to the good already in front of us, or leading us to future failure. Yet, it is better to risk disappointment than be stuck with nothing to look forward to, nothing to excite us, nothing to increase our hope. Expectations spur us on to remarkable achievement; urge us to seek excellence with greater diligence; push us to the kind of creativeness that opens the door for something new to happen, for discovering new possibilities, for embracing the unknown. The people in the gospel looked to John the Baptist to be the longawaited Messiah. It was precisely their expectation—misdirected though it was—that kept them looking for the Messiah. John redirected them from himself to the person of Jesus, the “beloved Son” of God. Our own baptism with “the Holy Spirit and fire” initiates us on a journey of discovery not only of who Jesus is, but also who we are in him. This gospel, then, teaches us something about John, Jesus, and ourselves. Who was John the Baptist? He was set apart, prophetic, radical, clear about his message of repentance, sure about his identity as the herald of One who would be greater than he. Who is Jesus? He is the Messiah to whom John pointed, the “beloved Son” of God, the One who, because of his own prophetic, radical, and sure message, would be misunderstood, rejected, ridiculed, deserted, crucified. Who are we? We are those who, through our baptism “with the Holy Spirit and fire,” are conformed to Jesus and take up his saving mission. From his baptism by John to his crucifixion, the Messiah did not meet mere human expectations. Rather, he exceeded them with his Good News, his healing, his love. From our own baptism to our death, we also must not meet mere human expectations. Rather, we must achieve the full potential of our own graced identity as God’s own people expressed through a Gospel way of living. Living Liturgy 2016
Set Out In Haste The phrase “gone, but not forgotten” is associated with songs, movies, a TV show episode, a novel, a poem. It is different from another well-known phrase, “out of sight, out of mind.” These sayings address a common enough human experience: absence and presence. When someone is not immediately at hand, do we forget or remember this person? The answer to this question rests largely on how important this person is for us. The more love we have,the more this individual is always present to us. Physical proximity is not the measure of presence; attentiveness (even in absence) and love are. This Sunday’s gospel addresses absence and presence. Mary visited her cousin Elizabeth and they were present to each other in a most extraordinary encounter. Clearly also present and active was the Holy Spirit who overshadowed Mary to conceive the Savior of the world, inspired Elizabeth to extol Mary and the “fruit of [her] womb,” and prompted the unborn John to leap for joy. The Holy Spirit brought an intensity to each encounter that augured the singularity and significance of all these happenings. Mary didn’t simply “set out” to visit Elizabeth; she went “in haste.” Elizabeth didn’t simply say “hello” to Mary, but “cried out in a loud voice” the blessings of Mary and her unborn infant. John didn’t simply give a gentle kick in Elizabeth’s womb at this encounter, but “leaped for joy.” On this Fourth Sunday of Advent, quickly approaching our celebration of the birth of the Son of God, we need to open ourselves to receive this same intensity from the Holy Spirit. This same Holy Spirit overshadows, inspires, and prompts those of us who believe to “set out” “in haste” to touch others with divine Presence. Elizabeth blesses Mary because she “believed” that God would fulfill in her all that the angel Gabriel had said to her. Now so must we believe that God fulfills in us all the goodness and love that is promised us. As with Mary, our every choice, every act, every encounter must disclose our heart’s desire to carry the Presence of the Lord to others. And to do so with haste.
See The Salvation of God Saved by the bell! The firefighter saved the baby from sure death. The relief pitcher saved the game. We hear the word “save” frequently in our everyday chatter, and know immediately what it means: to be rescued from a bad situation, from danger, from an unwanted outcome. This Sunday’s gospel doesn’t have the word “save,” but instead “salvation.” What does it mean to “see the salvation of God” that Isaiah the prophet foretold? Here the meaning of “save” is not quite so straightforward. Much more is promised than being rescued. In fact, what the gospel is about is not so much being saved from as being saved by and for. Let’s be honest: it’s not just the busyness of Christmas preparations now in full December fury that distract us from our ongoing work of repentance and forgiveness. Every day of the year we tend to be distracted by mountains of work, paths of indecision, valleys of doubt and fear. Like John the Baptist, we are to hear “the word of God” that comes to us, that challenges us to embrace a more Godlike way of living, that not only promises salvation, but shows us the path to it. Changing our lives to live more faithfully Gospel values is not easy. Nor do we ever get to a point in our daily living when we have arrived at the mountaintop and no longer need to act on God’s word, change our minds about what is most important to us, open ourselves to God’s forgiveness of our wrongdoing and learn how we in turn forgive others. This is the path to salvation. Not an easy one. But a rewarding one.
Christ the King When we were young, we had the time to indulge our imagination. We pretended to be famous, wealthy, powerful. Of course we grew up, but sometimes not out of those fantasies. In fact, multi-billion dollar industries are dedicated to making those dreams come true. But only for a while. And always for a price. Let’s take the ultimate indulgence. What does it really mean to be “king of the world?” Take a few moments and step into the shoes of Jesus. How would you answer the charge you were a king of all? What does it mean to be a king? Is it the old model of absolute power? Or is it Christ’s leadership of service? These questions are the essence of Pilate’s and Jesus’ dialogue. Jesus responds with a speech about his arena (i.e., “his kingdom”). Jesus’ arena is not that of popular culture or politics; if it was there would be a bloody revolution. Pilate still presses the point: “You are a king, aren’t you?” Jesus gives in on a semantic point (“You’re the one who says so, Pilate”) but finally gives Pilate a direct witness: Jesus speaks the truth. How does the truth Jesus speaks and the truth the “world” speaks different? The truth of the world is transient in nature; it changes with the season and the political landscape. It speaks to ambition and power, to possessions and pleasure. The truth of the world is, at best, shallow. But the truth Jesus speaks is one of the heart. The truth of Jesus is more than facts; it is one of fidelity. God is “true” to us; that means, he is faithful. He shows us his fidelity through his Son and the power of his Spirit. When we are true to God in return, we “live in truth” (that is, in relationship). Since God is eternally faithful, God’s truth goes beyond the transient nature of politics, fad, and fashion. How does your relationship with God touch you in ways the world cannot match? How has the truth of world failed you? How has God’s faithfulness sustained you? A theologian once said that all revelation is invitation. In other words, all that God reveals to us invites us to live with him. This is the reality of Jesus’ kingship. Jesus is Lord, so we might live near him in love. He is King of the World, not over us but for us and with us.
When? Now! At this time when we near the end of another liturgical year, the Lectionary includes gospels about the end times that call for us to look far into the future. These gospels inevitably paint a dark and dismal picture of calamity and doom, and so we often dismiss them. The apocalyptic (the word “apocalyptic” comes from the Greek which means to “uncover” or “reveal”) imagery of this Sunday’s gospel (“sun will be darkened,” “moon will not give its light,” “stars will be falling from the sky,” and “powers in the heavens will be shaken”) is no exception. We are tempted to ask, “When, Lord?” Jesus’ answer, “no one knows,” ought to bring us to pay more attention to the present. Now is an opportune time for the in-breaking of Christ. Now is what counts. The future is now. We think of Jesus’ Second Coming as a future event. In fact, the darkening of the sun and moon and stars is already happening in the trials and tribulations that not only beset the first disciples, but also are part of our own lives. Jesus promises that all these things will happen. He fur¬ther promises that he is “near, at the gates.” This gospel is about the ultimate victory over darkness that belongs to those who are faithful. That victory is now. The future is now. What ought to startle us into sober reality is that we know the end will come. Like the gospel, Daniel’s vision describes in the first reading “a time unsurpassed in distress.” Also like the gospel, his vision reveals the victory of those “written in the book” who are the elect, those who have been faithful. We have all the means at hand to face darkness and evil with confidence, assured that one day we “shall live forever.” The future holds no fear for us; rather than fear, we anticipate our future with joyful expectation, because the one we await is within and among us now. The future is now. In previous gospel passages, Jesus’ teaching about future events dealt with his impending suffering, death, and resurrection. Jesus predicted several times the coming end of his earthly life, which was not too far into the future. The disciples could not hear what Jesus was teaching; they could not envision a future such as Jesus predicted. In this gospel, too, he teaches about the future; however, this time his words deal with an unknown, distant future, with cosmic events, which his final coming in power to overcome darkness, and with his drawing the elect into the light of his final glory. Jesus uses the image of the greening of “the fig tree” when summer is near as a sign that “he is near.” Summer is a time of life, growth, fruitfulness. Those who hear and heed his words are in the greening of their lives; they choose for themselves life, growth, fruitfulness. For them, the future is now. We must remain focused on Jesus, and when we do so the end times hold no fear for us. We remain focused on Jesus, for example, when we continue to study and pray over his words; when we remain faithful to the dying and rising rhythm of life; when we see his face in the goodness of others, in the surprise of an unexpected gift, in those we encounter each day. Immersed in the now, we find him always near. In his nearness, the new world order dawns anew each day. Just as big calamities are not what the future is really about, neither are big deeds what our present is about. Our present is about doing the little things well, and we know how we “lead the many to justice” (first reading): by listening to Jesus’ words. Jesus has already given us all we need to have our names “written in the book.” We just need to live like he did: with compassion and understanding, wisdom and care, love and hope.
Without Calculating The Cost In this Sunday’s gospel Jesus is observing how people of his time were making donations to the treasury. The score is clear—scribes: 0; widow: 1! But another layer of interpretation might be opened up besides considering who wins or who loses, who is miserly or who is generous, who is hypocritical or who is honest. This gospel is really a metaphor for true discipleship, a central theme in the Gospel of Mark. What does it mean to be a disciple of Jesus? Jesus tells us when he contrasts the behavior of the self-important and insincere scribes with the action of a poor and seemingly insignificant widow. Jesus teaches the crowds to beware of the hypocrisy of the scribes who know God’s word and law, yet seek places of honor and hurt those whom the law demands they protect—the widows. Jesus condemns them severely. “Calling his disciples to himself,” he teaches them that they are not to do like the scribes. They are instead to do like the widow in the temple who gives all she has. True disciples give all they have, their whole livelihood—not goods, but themselves. The amount of what we have and give is really not important at all in the long run. What is important is how we regard and care for others; how we fulfill our responsibilities in the community; how we embrace the unlimited possibilities of deeper relationships, new riches, everlasting Life. Without calculating the cost to herself, the widow gave “all she had,” not out of her surplus. Disciples, too, give all they have without counting the cost, calculating self-gain, or seeking attention. The amazing thing about faithful discipleship is that God provides us with astonishing surplus: protection, talents, blessings. The “whole livelihood” disciples give is their very selves; disciples give of what God has already given them. Ultimately, discipleship is about good stewardship of who we are. We learn how to be good disciples from others who follow Jesus faithfully, who contribute to the good of all out of the surplus with which God has blessed them. The gospel holds up the poor widow as a model for the total self-giving of the true disciple. We need but look around us to find strong models for true discipleship. Now we are Jesus’ disciples, we are the new “scribes” called to authentically transmit and teach what Jesus reveals and fulfills. We are to live Gospel values. This is the primary way we teach. We teach, for example, when our loving is self-giving; when we care for the downtrodden; when we persist in reaching out to anyone in need even when we seemingly have little to give. Instead of serving self, we give self—our all. So, are we true disciples?
What Do You Want Me To Do For You? We spring into action when what we need seems at hand. The verbs describing Bartimaeus’s actions in this gospel say everything about faith, encountering Jesus, and choosing to follow him. He cried out, kept calling, threw aside his cloak, sprang up and came to Jesus, stated his request, received his sight, followed Jesus. Such need, such urgency, such conviction! These verbs describe Bartimaeus’s faith-in-action, his deepening relationship with Jesus. Indeed, does anyone approach Jesus except out of boldness born of need and faith in him? Bartimaeus has faith. Faith that Jesus will hear him, faith that Jesus is the Son of David who has power, faith that Jesus will have pity on him, faith that Jesus will heal him. Bartimaeus’s faith was rewarded, but even more than he thought he needed. Jesus also assures him of being saved. Bartimaeus’s actions are the manifestation of his faith. Jesus’ actions are a manifestation of his saving power in response to another’s faith. The blind Bartimaeus knows exactly his position in relation to the community: off to the side and begging. He also knows his position in relation to Jesus: crying out, springing up, following. His position in relation to the community arises from his need; his position in relation to Jesus arises from his faith. Indeed, does anyone approach Jesus except out of boldness born of need and faith in him?
A Divided Heart Ignorance is bliss! The man eagerly approached Jesus, oblivious to how challenging the encounter would become. Jesus’ reply to the man’s question about what he must do to inherit eternal Life changed his eagerness to sadness. Yes, ignorance is bliss. But is it? The man in the gospel turned away from Jesus because he couldn’t let go. It’s not impossible to enter the kingdom of God because “all things are possible for God.” But it is hard to enter the kingdom of God because too often our hearts are divided—we want to let go and follow Jesus at the same time we want to hang onto our possessions and, indeed, even to their commanding our attention and focus of life. Divided hearts just won’t do. We can’t have everything we want and give all to follow Jesus at the same time. The very hard demands of following Jesus include not swerving from what is central to us—allowing ourselves to be possessed by Jesus fully and completely so that we receive the hundredfold promised those who are faithful: “eternal life.” This gospel could be interpreted as saying that we must dispossess ourselves of everything we have. In today’s world, this is not really possible. Possessions in themselves are not a stumbling block to following Jesus. The issue is whether we are willing to let go and single-heartedly follow him. Nothing should take precedence in our lives over following Jesus and inheriting eternal Life—not possessions, family, property, or even the bliss of ignorance. We ought to be careful about putting a question to Jesus if we are not ready to hear his answer! If we approach Jesus and ask him what more we need to do to gain eternal Life, he will tell us in no uncertain terms. Will we hold back from Jesus lest he tell us the “one thing” yet lacking in our lives? Do we choose the bliss of ignorance? Or the joy of hearing Jesus invite us to follow him and inherit eternal Life?
Hardness of Heart You’re never too young— or too old — to take care of your heart. Preventing heart disease (and all cardiovascular diseases) means making smart choices now that will pay off the rest of your life. Lack of exercise, a poor diet and other unhealthy habits can take their toll over the years. Anyone at any age can benefit from simple steps to keep their heart healthy during each decade of life. Here’s how: All Age Groups No matter what your age, everyone can benefit from a healthy diet and adequate physical activity. Choose a healthy eating plan. The food you eat can decrease your risk of heart disease and stroke. Learn mmore about meticore.Choose foods low in saturated fat, trans fat, and sodium. As part of a healthy diet, eat plenty of fruits and vegetables, fiber-rich whole grains, fish (preferably oily fish-at least twice per week), nuts, legumes and seeds and try eating some meals without meat. Select lower fat dairy products and poultry (skinless). Limit sugar-sweetened beverages and red meat. If you choose to eat meat, select the leanest cuts available. Be physically active. You can slowly work up to at least 2½ hours (150 minutes) of moderate-intensity aerobic physical activity (e.g., brisk walking) every week or 1 hour and 15 minutes (75 minutes) of vigorous intensity aerobic physical activity (e.g., jogging, running) or a combination of both every week. Learn the American Heart Association’s Guidelines for Physical Activity in Adults and in Children.Additionally, on 2 or more days a week you need muscle-strengthening activities that work all major muscle groups (legs, hips, back, abdomen, chest shoulders, and arms). Children should get at least 60 minutes of activity every day. It’s never too early or too late to learn the warning signs of a heart attack and stroke. Not everyone experiences sudden numbness with a stroke or severe chest pain with a heart attack. And heart attack symptoms in women can be different than men. In Your 20s Getting smart about your heart early on puts you far ahead of the curve. The things you do — and don’t—are a tell-tale sign of how long and how well you’re going to live, said Richard Stein, M.D. “There’s no one I know that said, ‘I felt better being sedentary. I felt better eating a terrible diet,’” said Stein, a cardiologist and professor of medicine at New York University School of Medicine. “All these things actually make you feel better while they help you.” Find a doctor and have regular wellness exams. Healthy people need doctors, too. Establishing a relationship with a physician means you can start heart-health screenings now. Talk to your doctor about your diet, lifestyle and checking your blood pressure, cholesterol, heart rate, blood sugar and body mass index.You may also need your blood sugar checked if you are pregnant, overweight or have diabetes. Knowing where your numbers stand early makes it easier to spot a possible change in the future. Be physically active. It’s a lot easier to be active and stay active if you start at a young age. “If you’re accustomed to physical activity, you’ll sustain it,” Stein said. Keep your workout routine interesting by mixing it up and finding new motivators. Don’t smoke and avoid secondhand smoke. If you picked up smoking as a teen, it’s time to quit smoking. Even exposure to secondhand smoke poses a serious health hazard. Nonsmokers are up to 30 percent more likely to develop heart disease or lung cancer from secondhand smoke exposure at home or work, according to a U.S. Surgeon General report. In Your 30s Juggling family and career leaves many adults with little time to worry about their hearts. Here are some ways to balance all three. Make heart-healthy living a family affair. Create and sustain heart-healthy habits in your kids and you’ll reap the benefits, too. Spend less time on the couch and more time on the move. Explore a nearby park on foot or bike. Shoot some hoops or walk the dog.Plant a vegetable and fruit garden together in the yard, and invite your kids into the kitchen to help cook. Know your family history. Shake down your family tree to learn about heart health. Having a relative with heart disease increases your risk, and more so if the relative is a parent or sibling.That means you need to focus on risk factors you can control by maintaining a healthy weight, exercising regularly, not smoking and eating healthier. Also, keep your doctor, cardiologist melbourne informed about any heart problems you learn about in your family. Tame your stress. Long-term stress causes an increase in heart rate and blood pressure that may damage the artery walls.Learning stress management techniques not only benefits your body, but also your quality of life. Try deep breathing exercises and find time each day to do something you enjoy. Giving back through volunteering also does wonders for knocking out stress. In Your 40s If heart health hasn’t been a priority, don’t worry. Healthy choices you make now can strengthen your heart for the long haul. Understand why you need to make a lifestyle change and have the confidence to make it. Then, tackle them one at a time. “Each success makes you more confident to take on the next one,” said Stein, an American Heart Association volunteer. Watch your weight. You may notice your metabolism slowing down in your 40s. But you can avoid weight gain by following a heart-healthy diet and getting plenty of exercise. The trick is to find a workout routine you enjoy.If you need motivation to get moving, find a workout buddy. Have your blood sugar level checked. In addition to blood pressure checks and other heart-health screenings, you should have a fasting blood glucose test by the time you’re 45.This first test serves as a baseline for future tests, which you should have every three years. Testing may be done earlier or more often if you are overweight, diabetic or at risk for becoming diabetic. Don’t brush off snoring. Listen to your sleeping partner’s complaints about your snoring.One in five adults has at least mild sleep apnea, a condition that causes pauses in breathing during sleep. If not properly treated, sleep apnea can contribute to high blood pressure, heart disease and stroke.
You Are The Christ! Self-identity is a big deal in our society. Knowing who we are enables us to journey forward through life with confidence, a sense of direction and purpose, an accurate assessment of our capabilities as well as weaknesses. In this gospel, Jesus’ question to his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” was not about his seeking his own self-awareness. It was a question put to the disciples that would reveal to them more deeply who he was and why he came among them. In Peter’s response, “You are the Christ,” we meet a high point in Mark’s gospel account. We are invited to struggle more deeply with who Jesus is. We are invited to prepare ourselves for what faithful discipleship entails. Yes, Peter acknowledges that Jesus is “the Christ,” but misses the deeper point. From Jewish tradition Peter has a preconceived notion of who Jesus is and also of who “the Christ” would be—as the “anointed one,” the Messiah, he would be a great king (kings of Israel were anointed), overthrow Roman domination, and restore the powerful Israel of old. But this is not “the Christ” who Jesus came to be. Jesus’ self-awareness is revealed ever so fully: he is “the Christ” who will “suffer greatly,” “be rejected,” and “be killed.” Jesus also makes something else explicit—disciples must also “take up [their] cross” if they are to follow Jesus. The disciples are hardly prepared for understanding Jesus’ identity as “the Christ”; they are even less prepared to grasp the demands of following him. Jesus is called “the Christ”—Peter is called Satan. Salvation confronts human resistance. Peter had a certain image, belief, expectation of what “the Christ” was to be, to do. Suffering, rejection, and being killed had nothing to do with Peter’s Christ. But they have everything to do with the Christ of God. Without a right understanding of “the Christ,” we cannot, with him, rise to new Life. Alone, the demands of discipleship would be impossible, the struggle beyond us. But with God as our help, we can begin to think as God does, not as humans. And how does God think? Not in terms of beatings, buffets, pain, ridicule, or even death. God thinks in terms of life and love. God thinks in terms of salvation. God only wills for us what is good for us and what brings us to new Life. We take up our own cross daily because this is the way to a share in risen Life. This gospel makes explicit the parameters of discipleship: self-denial, bearing hardship. It makes equally explicit why in the world anyone would follow Jesus: because this is the way to have Life. Herein is a clear gospel presentation of the paschal mystery: it means death and new Life, it means making a choice, it means that we, too, must embrace this way of living if we are to receive the gift of salvation Jesus offers. It is no small coincidence that this gospel begins with the question of Jesus’ identity and then ends with the cost of discipleship. Identity and discipleship are inextricably related because who we are, our own self-awareness, shapes how we follow. Our identity through baptism is that of Body of Christ; by being united with him in identity, we are also united with him in his life, death, and resurrection. Unlike him, we will not die on a cross. Like him, we are called to be followers who give themselves for the good of others.
Be Opened! In this gospel Jesus opens the ears and loosens the tongue of the deaf-mute. Both he and the crowd cannot contain themselves, but proclaim what Jesus has done. What has Jesus really done? Healed the man? Yes, but more. Jesus has revealed that he is far more than a miracle worker, as fascinating and wonderful as that may be. Understood only as an external sign, however, the miracle falls short of the reality. The miracles Jesus performs reveal his own divine power, his own compassion for the human condition, his own mission. Jesus cares for each of us, cares enough to reach out and touch us! What must be proclaimed is not the sign itself, but that to which it points: God’s Presence bringing salvation. Faced with this revelation, no one can keep silent. The Word grants the power of word. We surmise that something very profound must have happened between Jesus and the deaf man even before the miracle that brought the deaf and mute man to an intensified insight about Jesus. Jesus must have communicated something to him that resonated deep within the man’s very being and changed him. This is why he could not help but proclaim the miracle—his encounter with Jesus changed him. He was able to see beyond the miracle to the wholeness (salvation) Jesus offered him. The crowd recognized that Jesus is the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy (see first reading) when they say, “He has done all things well. He makes the deaf hear and the mute speak.” Jesus’ miracle points beyond himself as a miracle worker to himself as the One who has come to save us. The miracles are a sign of salvation—God’s new Life is breaking in on humanity and changing who we are and giving us a whole new insight into our relationship with God. We now see God’s mighty deeds, know Jesus is our savior, and proclaim God’s salvation. This Good News cannot be contained. Jesus is very personal with the man he heals: he touches his ears and tongue; he prays to his Father (“looked up to heaven”) with a groan, as if his whole being were involved. How much Jesus wishes to touch us, heal us, encounter us! Like the healed man and crowd in the gospel, we cannot keep quiet, either. Encounter with Jesus leads to our proclaiming his nearness, his care, his healing. We are never alone. We only need to open ourselves to Jesus’ touch. We only need to open ourselves to the Word who grants us all power to proclaim his nearness to the whole world. In terms of Christian discipleship, we must come to know Jesus before we can proclaim who he is. Looking to mighty deeds that we think may be unfolding around us today—reports of miracles, etc.—is not where this gospel leads us. Rather, the gospel leads us to see Christ in the little things around us—the caring touch, the encouraging smile, the unexpected friendly phone call—and interpret these as evidence of God’s Presence and salvation. We ought to be “astonished” today by the many manifestations of God’s Presence in and through the people around us. We ought to be astonished at how God uses us as instruments to proclaim the Good News of salvation. We ought to be so keyed into Jesus’ Presence that we, too, cannot contain ourselves, but must proclaim God’s mighty deeds to anyone who has ears to hear.
Where Is The Heart? Exercises that get your heart pumping and sweat flowing — known as aerobic exercise, or “cardio” — have significant and beneficial effects on the brain and body, according to a wealth of recent research, including two new studies published this month. “Aerobic exercise is key for your head, just as it is for your heart,” according to an article in a Harvard Medical School blog. Here are some of the ways cardio is such a boon for our bodies. The newest study, published March 14, suggests a potentially powerful link between regular aerobic exercise and a lower risk of dementia. Reuters Shutterstock A study published this week in the journal Neurology suggested that women who were physically fit in middle age were roughly 88% less likely to develop dementia (defined as a decline in memory severe enough to interfere with daily life) than their peers who were only moderately fit. Neuroscientists from the University of Gothenburg in Sweden studied 191 women whose average age was 50 for 44 years. First, they assessed their cardiovascular health using a cycling test and grouped them into three categories: fit, moderately fit, or unfit. Over the next four decades, the researchers regularly screened the women for dementia. In that time, 32% of the unfit women were diagnosed with the condition; a quarter of the moderately fit women did. But only 5% of the fit women developed dementia. Despite that strikingly positive finding, the research only showed a link between fitness and decreased dementia risk; it did not prove that one caused the other. Still, the work builds on several other studies that suggest a powerful tie between exercise and brain health. Read more about the benefits of Carbofix. Workouts may protect your immune system from some age-related decline as well. Halfpoint Images/Getty Images For a small study published at the beginning of March in the journal Aging Cell, researchers looked at 125 amateur male and female cyclists aged 55 to 79. They compared those individuals with 75 people of a similar age who rarely or never exercised. The cyclists were found to have more muscle mass and strength, and lower levels of body fat and cholesterol than the sedentary adults. The athletic adults also appeared to have healthier and younger-looking immune systems, at least when it came to a key organ called the thymus. The thymus is responsible for generating key immune cells called T cells. In healthy people, it begins to shrink starting around age 20, and T cell production also starts to drop off around that time. The study found that the thymus glands of the older cyclists looked like they belonged to younger people — their bodies were producing just as many T cells as would be expected from the thymus of a young person. Check out the latest leptoconnect reviews. “We now have strong evidence that encouraging people to commit to regular exercise throughout their lives is a viable solution to the problem that we are living longer but not healthier,” Janet Lord, the director of the Institute of Inflammation and Aging at the UK’s University of Birmingham, said in a statement.
A Choice To Stay or To Go The more serious the choice, the more far-reaching are its consequences. For example, the simple choice of whether or not to go out to eat has rather limited consequences: for budget, for diet, for companionship. The more serious choice, for example, of being faithful to our responsibilities in life has far-reaching consequences: for ensuring the well-being of others, for modeling honesty and justice, for maintaining wholesome relationships. The most serious choice we make in life is to believe in the risen Christ as our Bread of Life and to bear this out by the way we live. Jesus confronts his hearers with a most serious choice: to stay with him or leave, to believe in him or not.The consequences of this choice are as far-reaching as possible: encountering the “Holy One of God,” being given “Spirit and life,” receiving “eternal life.” Every time we choose to eat the Body and drink the Blood of the risen Christ, we witness to our choice to stay with Jesus and believe in him. We can make this choice because,in the Eucharist, Jesus has chosen to stay with us, believe in us, and give himself to us. We must show others that we have chosen to stay with Jesus and believe in him beyond our participation in the Eucharistic celebration and receiving him in Holy Communion. We do this, for example, by looking on the face of others we encounter each day as the face of Christ, by confronting others with the consequences of their choices, by giving ourselves to others in need as Jesus gives himself to us. The way we live is already a choice to stay or go, believe or not.
Oh What A Gift! How often do we spend a great amount of time thinking about what gift to give a loved one for Christmas, birthday, or anniversary! How often is it not true that the only gift a loved one really desires is the gift of ourselves expressed in the giving of time, attention, and pres¬ence! Jesus’ gift of himself as “the bread of life” is a gift of eternal Life, boundless care, and abiding Presence. In this gospel Jesus teaches us the mystery of who he is as “the bread of life.” He is the One who gives himself to us as a pledge of eternal Life, who draws us to himself, who gives him¬self so that we might live. The mystery of his being the “bread of life” goes beyond all human expectation because the mystery reveals a divine giving of a divine Self. To receive God’s gift of Life—Jesus as living bread—is to pledge ourselves also to bring that Life of God to others. We are not “come down from heaven”; we have our feet planted firmly on this good earth, giving our own “flesh for the life of the world” through the good we do every day for others We believe and live the mystery when we give ourselves for the life of others, such as giving time to those who are lonely, giving food to those who are hungry, giving forgiveness to those who have hurt us, giving attention to those who are discouraged, giving patience to those who annoy us, giving gift baskets or just smiles. Believing and living the mystery of “the bread of life” means that we, like Jesus, give, give, give . . . .
It’s A Miracle! Take a moment with me and step into this scene. You are now a first century Galilean. Its pay day so you stop and buy a few barley loaves and while you are at the fish market, you hear the growing fame of Jesus, the carpenter from Nazereth, who confounds the Pharisees with unconventional but plain wisdom, and who reportedly heals the sick. He is only a few hours walk from your little town of Capernaum, so maybe it is time get your blind uncle Bartemeus and check the story out. You would probably take about five loaves of bread and a couple of dried fish, enough for a grown person to eat for about two days, to last through the journey. When you arrive at the hilltop from which Jesus is preaching and healing, it is quite a sight. There must be 5000 people trying to see him. That is the most people you have ever seen in one place. Herod’s new amphitheater in the Galilean capital of Tiberius is supposed to hold 7000, but it hasn’t been filled yet. This little hilltop has temporarily become the second largest city in Galilee. There are people from all over – farmers from the hill towns, fishermen from little villages, a bunch of construction workers from Tiberius, who are mostly immigrants from North Africa or Syria. Philip miscalculates when he tries to calculate the cost of feeding the hungry crowd. He has no inkling of what Jesus intends to do. Who can? The gift of the fullness of messianic Life is beyond calculation, beyond expectation, beyond imagination. Yet, this is precisely Jesus’ Gift to us. This gospel account is far more than an interesting story about a miracle and abundance; it primes us to ponder the great mystery of Jesus himself as the Bread of Life (which we will hear about on subsequent Sundays) and his self-giving that enables us to share in it. The challenge for us is far more than believing in Jesus’ power to multiply loaves and fishes; the challenge is recognizing Jesus’ self-giving as a sign of fulfillment and promise of eschatological glory that we share even now. We Christians are to see our lives through the lens of God’s lavish abundance. Do we? It is too easy to think of God’s lavish abundance primarily (maybe exclusively?) in terms of the Eucharist we share each Sunday. Indeed, this is a mighty act of God on our behalf, and Eucharist always is an eschatological sign of God’s abundance and a time of future fulfillment. However, we ought not to let this lull us into missing other signs of God’s abundance: the abundance of family and friends, steady job, support and care of others. God’s abundance is all around us. Calculate that!
Come Away and Rest Photo: Dennis Steighner Photography When we are overwhelmed by life, often it is because the needs crashing down upon us are far greater than the time, energy, and know-how we have to meet them. It seems like we never get to the point when all our needs are over and done with. One need is met, another crops up. We can easily identify with the needs presented in this Sunday’s gospel: the weary disciples need rest; the persistent crowd needs to be where Jesus is. In today’s Gospel, Jesus shepherds both the apostles who need rest and the crowd who needs teaching. This need was so great that even Jesus’ seeking a “deserted place” for him and the disciples to rest did not keep the people from hastening to him. Jesus discerned the differing needs of the weary disciples and the persistent crowd, and responded to each accordingly. Jesus shepherds us in both rest and teaching. The rest Jesus provides re-creates us to have energy for continuing his mission. The Good News Jesus teaches opens us to the transforming possibilities of his abundant life given to us. We all need to go off to a “deserted place” occasionally to “rest a while.” Whether this means taking some time alone each day to pray and rest in God, making Sunday truly a day of rest, or setting aside a few days a year to make a retreat, all of us need time to regain our strength so we can take up our own shepherding tasks. If the mission overwhelms us, we are unable to persevere. If the mission overwhelms us, we are at risk of losing sight of the mission itself. Achieving a balanced rhythm between the work of discipleship and the need to rest from weariness can be no easy task in itself. Like Jesus, we are called to shepherd—to care, teach, heal, listen, etc. At the same time, we must know when it is time for us to renew ourselves, to allow Jesus to shepherd and teach us, to balance our work of sharing the Gospel with rest, with time to replenish our spirit and energy. Self-giving and rest are two parallel poles to the dying and rising dynamic of the paschal mystery. Too much dying can crush us. Too much rest can lull us into being uncaring shepherds. The mission calls us to a balanced rhythm.
Where Did This Man Get All This? We are always surprised—sometimes even shocked—when someone acts out of character. A shy, quiet person might speak out forcefully, publicly against an injustice. A reserved, serious person might some night be the life of a party. A person without higher education reveals eloquence, insight, and brilliance on a challenging topic. Persons acting out of character shake up the expectations that limit our responses to others. Shockingly, in this Sunday’s gospel Jesus encounters resistance and rejection “among his own kin and in his own house.” This, because Jesus’ words and deeds went beyond his neighbors’ understanding of who he was (“the carpenter”). Jesus was acting way out of character for them. This gospel challenges us to examine the limits of our own expectations about who Jesus is and what he can do for us. It challenges us to examine our own expectations of others and allow them the space to be who God is helping them become. God continually offers us what we need for salvation, but we often resist it. Our receptivity is key for hearing God’s word and receiving the salvation God offers. God’s interventions to bring us salvation are always extraordinary, but most often come in ordinary and familiar circumstances. For example, a neighbor brings some homemade soup to us when we are sick; parents share their faith with their children; someone notices we are having a rough day and takes time to sit and listen to us. Ordinary people acting in such ordinary ways reveal to us who Jesus is—the mighty Savior still present to us and among us.
Your Faith Has Made You Well Some things defy rational thought. The composers of the lectionary taking a scalpel to Mark 5:22-43 is one of those things. In a probable attempt to keep the Gospel lesson short, the story of the healing of the hemorrhaging woman is excised from the context of the story of Jairus’ daughter, which bookends it. These are two radically different stories of healing woven together into one single story, with one single proclamation. Differences? Both women were quite obviously from different social classes and positions in society. The girl’s healing was sought after by her father, in a proper exchange, while the woman covertly took her healing without asking. Jesus healed the little girl by reaching out and touching her, and the woman in mirror image reached out and touched him. The girl was twelve years old suffering from a sudden and acute condition, and the woman was suffering from a chronic condition for as long as the girl had been alive. And while the woman was healed, the girl wasn’t technically healed. She died, and was brought back to life by Jesus: She was resuscitated. So, obviously, these two stories are very, very different. Almost inverse images set next to each other. And yet, at their core — and at their most basic level — they are the very same story. They are in fact the stories of two people who when they came in contact with Jesus, were transformed from death to life. This is pretty obvious in the case of the little girl, because she died. When Jesus went in to be with the corpse; he reached out to her, touched her, took her dead limp hand in his and told her to get up. And she did. The move from death to life is a little harder to see in the second story. Blood was such a sacred, precious, and dangerous force in Jewish belief and practice because it was what God said constituted the very life of a being. (Which of course showers meaning on Jesus’ words, “take, drink, this is my blood.”) So … when you have a woman who has been hemorrhaging — bleeding for twelve long years — she has in the Jewish sense, been ‘losing her very life’ for those twelve years. Life has been oozing out of her — seeping out of her. Like a toothpaste tube being slowly rolled from the bottom, she has been leaking life for a long, long time. In fact, you could quite rightly say, that for twelve long years this woman was … dying. So when she saw Jesus walking along the road with his entourage, and she squeezed her way through the crowd reaching out to touch his cloak, she was healed and the blood stopped oozing out of her. Her life stopped its flow out of her body. This unnamed woman who had been hemorrhaging for twelve years quite amazingly touched Jesus, and was thereby brought from death to life. Both Jairus and the woman entrusted themselves to Jesus by coming to him. They had faith. They moved beyond the known – illness and death – to reach into the unknown of new possibilities for life. Risking disappointment, they reached out to Jesus with confidence that he would respond. All of us are dying, all of us are having the life drained out of us like a toothpaste tube being viciously squeezed. — Until! — Until we encounter Jesus. Until we are touched and we touch. We must reach out and touch — an act of blind vulnerability to be sure — to receive Life. When we smile at the children even when we are bone tired or take an hour out of our day to visit the sick, we are dying to self. . When we graciously allow ourselves to be touched by other broken arms to be truly alive; when we surrender to Jesus, Jesus offers us life and in all this, we encounter the Lord of life. Do we have faith to touch and be touched so that whatever is dead within us may be restored to life?
Seed Scattered and Sown No modern farmer would do what the first parable of this gospel relates. Seeds are not “scatter[ed] . . . on the land” but carefully placed in precise rows. The farmer does not “sleep and rise night and day” without any regard for what has been planted. Instead, the farmer knows that of “its own accord the land” may not yield what the farmer needs to cover costs and make a living. So the farmer fertilizes, irrigates, spreads weed killer and pesticides, checks weather reports, and prays a lot! Farming has become big business and an exacting science. But, ultimately, the farmer knows that neither nature alone nor human effort can guarantee a desired agricultural outcome. In Jesus’ time husbandry was still the largest of human occupations. It is no wonder Jesus draws so many parables from what would have been very familiar to his listeners. In the end, however, seeds planted, growing, and yielding a harvest remains a mystery somewhat under our control, but largely still a mystery to which we must yield. We know that a fruitful harvest is, ultimately, a gift. In this gospel both the land and the mustard seed actualize their potential—they do what by nature they are created to do. At least in the ideal circumstances of parables. A parable is meant to take us beyond the literal. These two are used by Jesus to help us grasp what is surely a mystery: the “kingdom of God.” This kingdom is not a place or space. It is not something we can discover or conquer. Instead, these parables invite us to be who we are and allow God’s kingdom to conquer us. These parables call us to surrender to God’s word and action within us, to cooperate with God in bringing about a world filled with abundance and promise. These parables challenge us to make the kingdom of God a visible reality shaping our daily living. The “kingdom of God” is visible when we, like the land and mustard seed, actualize our own potential and do what we are called to do as Jesus’ disciples. What are we to do? Hear God’s word, nurture it in the fertile soil of our hearts, and let it sprout good works. In other words, God’s kingdom is visible in us when we surrender ourselves to God’s ways, when we hear God’s will for us, when we live in a way consistent with who God created us to be and how God intends us to do. In this way we become living parables doing what God created us to do and being who God created us to be. In the end we ourselves are God’s abundant harvest. And perhaps this is the greatest mystery of all.
Solemnity Of The Body and Blood Of Christ This Sunday’s feast is a “repeat” of what we celebrated just a few weeks ago on Holy Thursday. Jesus does something entirely new and unimaginably significant: he gives himself—his very Body and Blood—to us as our heavenly Food. This is the mystery we celebrate on Holy Thursday and this Sunday. This gospel, however, gives us a different context and some different details that move us deeper into the mystery. The room where Jesus would celebrate the Passover with his disciples is described as a “guest room.” Guest rooms are not where we are at home—they are transition rooms, temporary quarters, gifts of another’s generosity. We are always “guests” in God’s accommodations. We are to stay only temporarily, to move on from one place to another, from one person to another to witness to God’s mighty deeds of salvation. God’s gifts to us are not so we can settle in, stay put, become inert. God’s gifts always impel us to move on, to spread the Good News, to “pass over” into someone new! Each celebration of the Eucharist is a passover for us. It celebrates our plunging ever more deeply into the paschal mystery, into Jesus’ passing from death to risen Life. It celebrates our embrace of the new identity baptism first bestows on us and Eucharist celebrates and nourishes: that we ourselves are members of the Body of Christ. As Jesus continually gives himself to us in the mystery of his Body and Blood, so does Eucharist call us to the same self-giving. Every eucharistic celebration challenges us to “pass over” more deeply from being hearers of the word to doers of the word, from rugged individuals to the community of the church, from self-centered to self-giving persons. To eat the Body and drink the Blood of the risen Christ is to surrender ourselves to these and other “pass overs.” This, because the Eucharist transforms us into the very One we eat and drink. We pass over from one way of being to Another.
Solemnity of The Holy Trinity Military officers are commissioned; they are given specific authority to carry out the duties of their rank. Sales personnel might earn a commission; they are given a percentage of a sale over and above their regular salary. Etymologi¬cally, the word “commission” means to be “sent with.” So, someone commis¬sioned might be sent forth with authority and reaps the rewards of a task well done. This year the gospel for this Sunday concludes with what is sometimes called the “Great Commission.” No other gospel so explicitly refers to the three Persons of the Most Holy Trinity. We hear the very words of the baptismal formula we use today, and no doubt this gospel passage reflects the baptismal practice of the Matthean community some decades after the historical events of Jesus’ life, death, resurrection, and ascension. The disciples are sent forth to “all nations” with the authority of Jesus and they reap the rewards of being faithful to Jesus’ command and having Jesus always with them. In this gospel passage for the solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity, Jesus commands the disciples to baptize “in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” Jesus reveals his undivided, divine relationship with the Father when he declares, “All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” Baptism professes our faith in the Holy Trinity and celebrates our insertion into the intimate, relational life of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The depth and intimacy of God’s relationship with us leads to our own identity—“we are children of God” and “heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ”. As children and heirs, we share in the identity of Christ and, therefore, of God. Moreover, we participate in God’s saving work because we share in the power and mission of Christ through the Spirit. To share in divine identity is to share in divine doing— we, too, are to do mighty deeds. To be formed into the identity of Christ, therefore, is to be formed into his mission. The gospel rather succinctly and clearly lays out the mission with which Jesus charged the disciples (and us) before he ascended into heaven: make disciples, baptize in the name of the Trinity, teach, and observe “all that [Jesus] has commanded.” Jesus can entrust this mission to us because we share in his identity through the power of the Spirit. This identity is the fruit of our fidel¬ity. Has anything more wondrous or greater happened before? Liturgy calls us together to ask, “Who is this God?” Knowing God isn’t something we can find out in the abstract; knowing God is sought and expressed in our own doing — in taking up Christ’s mission and living our own privileged identity as daughters and sons of God “until the end of the age.” Without doing as Jesus did, we cannot answer “Who is God?” This doing is nothing less than to “suffer with” Christ, which means a constant dying to self. By our own self-emptying are we filled with the divine identity, are faithful to our own baptismal identity, and continue the mission with which Jesus has entrusted us.
The Ascension of The Lord When a very fine school principal retires, we might overhear one of the teachers say, “It will be difficult for the school board to fill her shoes.” Or if a skilled and versatile worker dies of a heart attack, the boss might say, “It will be difficult to fill his shoes.” Filling the shoes of someone beloved, someone uniquely qualified, someone highly professional can be pretty daunting. Personalities definitely play a part. So, it’s not simply a matter of getting the work done; it’s also a matter of how the work gets done, which raises the question of relationship. The better one relates to others, the more difficult it is to fill that person’s shoes when he or she is gone. In this gospel, Jesus is taking his leave of the disciples. He commissions them to fill his shoes. My! Really? We are not forced to proclaim the Gospel, nor do we do this on our own authority. We undertake our mission “through the Holy Spirit” (first reading) and manifest the Holy Spirit through our mission. But always the mission is Christ’s. At first this might seem an impossible commission: how can we expect to fill Jesus’ shoes? On our own authority we cannot. In addition to his commission to “proclaim the gospel,” Jesus also promised his disciples that signs would accompany their work attesting that Jesus remains with them. What an awesome honor it is to be disciples of Christ—we fill his shoes! This mission describes our Christian living—preaching the Gospel. Ascension is a call to all the baptized, reminding us that baptism is far more than having original sin taken away; it is a receiving of the Spirit by which we are grafted onto the Body of Christ. Baptism is our Pentecost and it includes a mission. It initiates us into a way of life whereby we are of the Lord Jesus. The gospel reminds us that the bearers of the Good News—those who continue Jesus’ saving mission today—are ordinary people. This would seem to be an overwhelming and impossible task. How can we fill Jesus’ shoes and continue the divine saving work? We can’t, on our own. But Jesus assured us that he would work with us. Always, the mission is Christ’s and we accomplish it by the strength and life of the Spirit who dwells in us who are baptized. It is the Spirit who works in us. This is why ordinary people can with enthusiasm, commitment, and love—and without question, fear, or hesitation—take up Jesus’ mission.
Love As I Have Loved Today’s gospel begins with God, not us. It describes in sweeping detail the unparalleled, intimate relationship to which the Father and Jesus invite us: chosen by them, given a share in their joy, called friends by them, told everything by them, appointed by them to bear fruit, and given whatever we ask in Jesus’ name. In response, we are to incarnate this divine-human relationship in our relationships with each other: “love one another as I love you.” God’s love is so freely and lavishly given. In turn, we are to empty ourselves and give that love to those we meet. We are not to love on our terms; we are to love as Jesus has loved us. This love is demanding; this is the only love that brings us lasting joy. Yes, the command is simple: “love one another.” The demand is imposing: lay down our lives. Keeping God’s commandments is laying down our lives—we surrender our will to doing God’s will and in this is the dying. Caring for and reaching out to others is laying down our lives—also a dying. Doing the little things every day not because we have to but because we see the other as the beloved of God is dying. We choose all these and other ways of dying because we know this is love and love is risen Life rising to kiss us with a share in divinity. And our joy is complete when we love in this way—as Jesus loves us.
I Am The True Vine A well-kept and appealing landscape takes many hours of work. Left without care, the shrubs become unkempt, the grass looks like hay, the flowers become leggy. Cutting back, cutting down, cutting away is what brings out the beauty of a landscape. This kind of work is more than a matter of simple tidiness. It shows that the people who live on the property care. In the gospel, Jesus metaphorically speaks of his Father’s pruning us branches who are attached to the vine who is Jesus. God’s care for us underlies the oft-repeated gospel words remain, fruit, vine, branch. Just as God planted and tended the true vine Jesus, so does God tend us—prune us—so that we, too, might “bear much fruit.” God prunes from us whatever does not give life, and nourishes within us whatever does. Our remaining in Jesus, our bearing fruit as disciples, our believing in the Son and keeping the commandments (see second reading) are all the work of the Father who tends with great care the risen Life we share with Jesus. The pruning of which Jesus speaks in this gospel is simply a means to an end. The end is the bearing of much fruit. To this end, Jesus’ word has a twofold purpose. On the one hand, his word is prophetic and prunes whatever drains life out of his disciples. On the other, his word is the very sap of life that enables disciples to remain in him and bear fruit. True discipleship is to “remain” in Jesus. Only then does his risen Life bloom in us for all to see. Part of our living the paschal mystery—its dying and rising—requires that we be willing to be pruned. We must allow God to tend us, so that we might rid ourselves of whatever gets in the way of our being a faithful disciple who not only proclaims the Gospel, but also lives it in “deed and truth.” First of all, this means that we must witness to an intimate relationship with God. We do this through prayer and worship—both private and public acts of glorifying God. We also witness in “deed and truth” through how we relate to others. Taking someone troubled under our wing to help them is but one example of how we remain in Jesus through our caring for others.