The Good Shepherd One problem with the many references to sheep in the Bible is that so few of us have any real contact with these animals. The metaphor is simply lost on us. What does it mean to be compared to sheep? The little we’ve heard or read about them—that they’re not particularly bright—does not endear us to the metaphor. But here’s the thing about Good Shepherd Sunday: it’s not about sheep at all. It is about a shepherd—the “Good Shepherd”—but even that designation is charged with meanings that can be lost on us. “I am the good shepherd,” says Jesus. “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep” (John 10:11). The life of a shepherd was anything but dreamy or picturesque. Taking care of sheep was dangerous, difficult, tedious work. Shepherds were, as one commentator has said, “rough around the edges, spending time in the fields rather than in polite society. For Jesus to say, ‘I am the good shepherd,’would have been an affront to the religious elite. The claim had an edge to it. A modern-day equivalent might be for Jesus to say, ‘I am the good migrant worker.’”* So John is doing in his gospel something that Luke does in his. Recall the Good Samaritan: Jesus tells a parable about a man mugged in the street and left for dead. Two members of Israel’s spiritual elite—a priest and a Levite—pass him by and hurry on their way. But a Samaritan—considered unclean and morally suspect—binds the man’s wounds, pays for his care, helps restore him to health. Jesus makes a Samaritan the hero of the story, something that would have scandalized his hearers. His basic message is not: be kind; help others (which is what we’ve reduced the parable to). His message is this: the Kingdom comes in surprising ways, through surprising people, through a God who turns our expectations and our prejudices upside down. The Good Samaritan. The Good Shepherd. Those who are lowly, dubious, suspicious, contemptuous; those discounted, counted out: pay attention to these—God is probably at work in their midst. The Good Samaritan gives of himself fully to save a stranger. The Good Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. But what about what the Good Shepherd says? “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice” (John 10:16). This surely refers to the “calling of the Gentiles”; their grafting into Israel. But we also have to ask what it means for our time. We tend to like fences and tidy borders, but the Good Shepherd does not seem interested in the kind of boundaries that keep the sheep separated from one another. There’s a story told about Robert Coles going to interview Dorothy Day in 1952. Upon entering her “house of hospitality” he found her talking with a woman who was obviously very drunk. Eventually Dorothy got up and came over to Coles: “Are you waiting to speak to one of us?” The troubled, intoxicated woman was not the other, the outsider, “one of them”; she was not an object of Dorothy Day’s charity. Rather, Day was one with this woman in the charity of Christ.** “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also.” It’s the First Reading that extends the message of John chapter 10 to its logical end, giving us its full implication for work and witness in the world: “We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us–and we ought to lay down our lives for one another . . . Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action” (1 John 3:16, 18). The good Samaritan loved in truth and action. Dorothy Day loved in truth and action. And the love they embodied was not in and of themselves, summoned by their own strength or will, but was available to them because “they listened to [his] voice” (John 10:16). For those who gather at the Lord’s Table this Sunday, we’ll be reminded that the Good Shepherd is also the sacrificial lamb–that in laying down his life he takes it up again (John 10:17). And when we participate in that dying and rising, when we eat the bread and drink the cup of salvation, “we know that he abides in us” (1 John 3:24). And this is pure gift. Finally, we’ll recite Psalm 23 this week–not as part of a funeral liturgy but, for many, in the context of the Eucharist. “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies” (23:5). We’re back to Jesus’ insistence that he brings all into the fold–friend, stranger, outcast, enemy–and that when we feast at his table, barriers are broken, divisions are overcome, unity is enacted (“there will be one flock, one shepherd”). And in tasting this goodness we discover that we have everything we need: “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” In Christ Alone Worship Video with Lyrics by ? on Grooveshark
Third Sunday of Easter Why think about sins and forgiveness during Easter time? What a bummer! Easter is a joyful time to celebrate new Life! It is thus surprising that repentance and forgiveness (acts we much more readily associate with Lent) figure so prominently in all three readings assigned to this Third Sunday of Easter. The readings suggest to us that we, unlike the disciples to whom Jesus appeared after the resurrection, cannot look at, touch, see with our own eyes this Jesus who was dead and now is risen to new Life. Yet Jesus gives us another, just as concrete, means to come to belief in the new Life of resurrection. Repentance and forgiveness are themselves encounters with the risen Jesus, an invitation to deeper belief, and an experience of our own coming to a share in Jesus’ risen Life. Jesus opened the minds of the disciples to grasp two things written in the Scriptures: that he “would suffer and rise from the dead,” and that “repentance, for the forgiveness of sins, would be preached in his name to all the nations.” Our repentance—conversion of life—turns us to the God who forgives and who fills us with the new Life of the resurrection. Ultimately, this risen Life within us empowers a way of living that witnesses to God’s forgiveness of our sinfulness. Our belief in the resurrection cannot be passive. Our belief in the risen Jesus is made visible when we “preach in his name” the kind of repentance leading to the new life of forgiveness. We encounter Jesus today when we repent of our sins and forgive others. Jesus “was made known” in the breaking of the bread and in repentance and forgiveness. Why is forgiveness so central to embracing Jesus’ risen Life? Being forgiven by God for our offenses means that the weakened or de¬stroyed relationship caused by sin is strengthened or restored. We become strong once again in the Life that God offers us. Forgiving others who have hurt us means that we are not controlled bytheir hurtful actions, a control that can lead to resentment, anger, hate. Forgiving another might not erase the hurt, but it does free us to live with compassion and joy. These are virtues of risen Life. This is risen Life: “You are forgiven.” This is our witness to the resurrection: “I forgive you.” The resurrection claims us as witnesses not only to God’s forgiveness of us, but also to our forgiveness of one another. Repentance—conversion of life—opens new opportunities to touch and see the risen Jesus. Repentance opens us to God’s gift of forgiveness. Repentance opens us to the new Life of resurrec¬tion Jesus offers. Ultimately, the resurrection is a pledge of new Life for us and makes visible God’s forgiveness of our sinfulness. Forgiveness is part of the reality of risen Life; it is the effect of death and resurrection. Repentance and forgiveness do not belong simply to Lent—there, that’s over for another year. Instead, they are very much a part of the Easter mystery. Forgiveness is the virtue that enables us not to allow past hurts to determine our decisions and actions in the here and now. Forgiveness opens up the space for creating together with the one forgiven a new future where we can “fall peacefully asleep” (responsorial psalm). Giving and receiving forgiveness is a resurrection activity. Walking and acting like a forgiven and forgiving people is how we make known the risen Jesus. The Supper of the Lord by Rosario on Grooveshark
Raised To New Life Deep grief can often paralyze a person. We can be numb. We seem to be in a trance. We become unaware of what is going on around us. We do not hear. We are blind. After Jesus’ crucifixion, the disciples must have been paralyzed with grief, with dashed hopes, with utter anxiety about what to do next. How quickly an empty tomb shakes them out of their numbness and inaction and makes them run! Mary’s first hint of the resurrection was of an empty tomb. She ran to Peter and “the other disciple whom Jesus loved” to tell them. Was her haste due to human anguish: “They have taken the Lord from the tomb”? The two disciples run to the tomb. Was their haste due to anguish or hope? When they saw the empty tomb, what did they believe? The gospel leaves open the answer to these questions. Belief in the resurrection takes time. It takes encounter with the risen One. We will not run to an empty tomb. Yet we believe in the resurrection. We believe because of the witness of disciples, beginning with those first ones who did see the empty tomb. Like them, we must run—to seek and encounter the risen One who enables us to witness to the new Life of resurrection
God So Loved The World This passage contains what is possibly one of the most (if not the most) well-known passages of scripture in all of the New Testament. We see it on Bible tracts, jewelry and t-shirts sold at Christian bookstores, and homemade signs at sporting events. Vast numbers of people have heard or read the words of John 3:16. But, I’m not sure that everyone really understands or appreciates what is said in this passage. I think it is important for this passage to be read along with the Ephesians passage. Too often we read this text from John and conclude that if someone believes they receive the gift of grace. But, God’s grace is unconditional. How sad for those who refuse to see the gift that God has given them. Does it mean that God takes the gift back? I don’t think we are supposed to be the judge of that. What God ultimately decides to do is completely up to God. What we are called to do is love God and love one another. There’s no mention of finger-pointing in any of the great commandments. The second part of this Gospel gives the judgment: those are saved who believe in Jesus, live the truth, and come to the light. Those are condemned who do not believe in Jesus, prefer darkness, and do “wicked things.” Our whole life is working out our own verdict. Thank God we are at the mercy of a gracious and forgiving God! The faith/belief mentioned in both the second reading and gospel allude to our self-surrender at baptism which begins a life lived as followers of Christ. Even more: at baptism we are plunged into Christ’s death so that we might rise to new life with him (see Rom 6:5). This dying and rising mystery is the paschal mystery. Through it we are joined to Christ in his work of salvation. The paradox of the paschal mystery is that what we abhor—the cross—becomes the instrument of redemption. God saves the Israelites from death but in the paschal mystery we must embrace death, for the only way to eternal Life is by dying to ourselves, by allowing ourselves to be lifted up like Christ. Our good works (reaching out to others, doing our daily tasks with love and care, acting justly and charitably, etc.), then, are our way of being “lifted up.” This is how we are crucified, so that we might live. This gospel, coming in the middle of Lent (this is traditionally called “Laetare” Sunday), is a reminder of what Lent is truly about and, indeed, what our whole Christian living is about. There are only three weeks of Lent left. Now is the time to renew our resolve to embrace dying to self so that we might truly rise with Christ in joy and Life on Easter.
Create A Clean Heart In Me Jesus angrily drives the moneychangers from the temple area. How are we to understand this zeal for my Father’s house? It’s quite a contrast to our image of Jesus as teacher and healer. Since the temple was already destroyed when John’s Gospel was written, this scene helped the early Christian community to believe in the Resurrected Christ – the everlasting Temple of God’s covenant. As our Lenten journey continues, we might reflect: Am I zealous for my faith? Do others see me as a passionate believer? Cyprian Consiglio’s Create in Me A Clean Heart (Psalm 51) animates our video reflection.
Sacred or Profane? Twice this gospel mentions the Passover—that event in Jewish history that marks Israel’s passage from slavery to freedom. This is the founding, saving event that the Jewish people celebrate each year. Those who could came to Jerusalem to celebrate the feast. Jesus is there. On the feast. He goes to the temple. And becomes enraged. This is not a picture of Jesus we usually see. Something awfully important had to have been at stake. The temple in Jerusalem was a sign to the Jews of God’s Presence and saving works. This sign could be corrupted, however, by human beings who turn away from the temple’s true purpose. Enraged, Jesus takes “a whip” and drives out of the temple area those who corrupt the sign. Then Jesus announces both a new temple (his own body) that could not be corrupted and a new sign (“raised from the dead”) that would draw those who come to believe in him to a whole new reality. Even though the new temple of Jesus’ body would be destroyed by death, in the end it was not. This temple would be an eternal sign of God’s Presence and saving works and those who wish to share in Jesus’ Life cannot lose sight of this sign. God’s Presence and saving works are not found in bricks and mortar,but in the risen Body of Christ. Now we are the new temple: the living sign of the new things God is doing for us. This living sign is no longer a place (a bricks and mortar temple), but a relationship of fidelity to a new temple (the risen Jesus). The simple call of the gospel is to see the living signs of God’s Presence in our midst. Unlike the signs the Jews asked to see in the gospel—signs which would justify Jesus’ extraordinary action in the temple—we are to ask and look for different signs, ones which draw us into the deepest reality of what it means to be a disciple of Jesus. Jesus showed us the signs so clearly: he was crucified and then raised up. Just as surely as God raised up Jesus from the dead, so will we be raised up. The signs are there for us to see and believe. Oh, the jealousy and fidelity of the Divine! Yes, God can be trusted with our very lives. Most of us get lost in the demands of our everyday living. We get up in the morning, spend our day working, prepare and clean up after meals, shop and clean, drive the kids to soccer practice, worry about them, and do countless other things before we fall into bed at the end of the day—usually totally exhausted. In the midst of all this it is pretty difficult to be single-minded about anything except the tasks at hand. This gospel strikingly challenges us to keep doing all these everyday tasks—but for the right reason: to continue to be living signs of Jesus’ risen Presence within and among us. Ultimately, we are to offer up the temple of our own bodies by dying to self and only in this way can we share in the new Life God offers us. This is our daily dying: not necessarily doing something different, but doing what is demanded of us out of love for God and the good of others. This is our daily rising: that we have kept our sight on God, have conformed ourselves more perfectly to Christ, and have believed the signs of God’s Presence to us.
Transfigured I confess I’ve always puzzled over how to bring this particular story alive. For it’s not as though this is something that happens every day. In fact, many of us would assert that we’ve never experienced anything quite like this moment in time where a few chosen disciples join Jesus on a mountain top. Where they witness him in conversation with prominent figures from their faith history. Where they see Jesus’ appearance change in a way that could not be duplicated on earth. And where they hear the very voice of God declaring Jesus’ identity. It’s no wonder Peter attempts to bring it all back down to earth by offering to build some dwellings for them. On the other hand, it’s also no wonder Peter wants to capture this moment, hoping to make it last just a little while longer… I’ve always puzzled over how to bring this story to life. For I, like most of us, don’t spend a lot of time on the mountaintop. Most days while I won’t puzzle over who Jesus actually IS, I will spend considerable energy trying to see him at work in the world. And yet, much like those disciples, I have had those moments of being so privileged to see the past meet the present in such a way that the future somehow holds more promise. Where the light of Jesus is shining but it’s also marked by a kind of cloud of mystery which reminds us this is not of our doing. Moments when I have, in fact, been able to recognize the hand of God all over them. Perhaps you have, too. The face of a newly engaged person shines with joy. The face of a child who has accomplished a difficult task glows with pride. The face of a person who has made a difficult choice to do what is right against all odds reflects peace. These are all visible expressions of transfiguration, although fleeting ones. The transfiguration the disciples witnessed on the “high mountain” was also fleeting: they came “down from the mountain.” At the same time, this transfiguration foreshadowed the theophany of an eternal glory: Christ risen from the dead. Jesus’ theophany of transfiguration and risen Life continues in us in the world today through our participation in the paschal mystery, the dying and rising mystery of Christ. This participation requires of us the same dying to self Jesus embraced. We must set aside our own agenda to pay more attention to the needs of others. We must be generous in recognizing and complimenting the good others do. We must be inclusive in accepting those who do not look or think like we do. These actions are fleeting, but they portend what is everlasting. Experiences of transfiguration help us see beyond what is here and now to what will be—our eternal share in Christ’s risen Life. transfigure us, O Lord by Bob Hurd on Grooveshark
Into The Desert This week, as we begin the season of Lent, we focus on the spiritual practice of Praying ALL Ways – and head into the desert! The desert is a place of harsh conditions and death. But if we look with eyes of faith, the desert is alive – a place to meet God – as the Israelites experienced during the Exodus. After his baptism in the Jordan, the scriptures tell us that Jesus goes to the desert to pray. The focus of the desert allows him to resist the devil’s temptations to deny and doubt that he is God’s “beloved Son.” In order to truly follow Christ, we must also go to the desert. We need time in prayer always, and maybe in new ways to focus on our relationship with God and our spiritual path. There’s no shortcut. God calls us to the desert to discover and listen. The 40 days of Lent provide a good opportunity to explore new daily or weekly prayer formats or resources. To help us reflect on that invitation, we share a new song from Curtis Stephan and Sarah Hart called, Into the Desert. Thanks, Curtis and Sarah. http://www.theursulines.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/Into_the_Desert.mp4
If You Wish Living with a chronic illness can frustrate me. I can be angry, edgy, tormented. With all our modern advances in medicine, why can’t researchers and doctors overcome this disease, I ask. I wait interminably for promised breakthroughs; I hope desperately for a miracle, I often pray for healing. Yet I don’t let the illness define me. Such experiences can help me empathize with the leper in today’s gospel. For him no medical breakthrough awaits, no healing looms, no future dawns. Lepers in biblical times were required to proclaim “unclean” and live in social and religious isolation from the community. They lived painful lives, their only human contact being those in their same condition. Their only future was the relief of death. The leper in the gospel, excluded from the community and well aware of his miserable plight, understandably approached Jesus with caution (“If you wish”) and humility (“kneeling down”). Jesus, however, has no doubt about his response, for his purpose in coming among us was to show the compassion of God for the outcast: “I do will it.” Jesus’ compassion gave the leper what he deeply wished—to be made clean, yes, but also once again to be restored to relations that were lost, to have a life other than one determined by pain, to have an opportunity for a different outlook on death. The leper’s boldness in approaching Jesus changed his life in so many ways. This healing account between a leper and Jesus dramatically unfolds in a conversation punctuated by concrete and very personal gestures. The leper comes to Jesus, kneels, and boldly begs for cleansing, gestures expressing his sense of unworthiness. Moved with pity, Jesus stretches out his hand and touches the leper, gestures revealing the leper’s inherent dignity. Jesus heals more than the man’s body. Encounter with Jesus and being healed always fashions a new relationship with him. Freed from pain and isolation, the leper can let his inherent dignity spill over into proclaiming the Good News of a new Presence, a new Awakening, a new Life. Each of us has been touched by Jesus, healed of pain and suffering, been invited to grow into a deeper relationship with him. Our own inherent dignity is reinforced by Jesus’ very personal compassion and care for each of us. We experience this compassion and care in our own moments of deep prayer as we turn to Jesus in our need. We experience Jesus’ compassion and care in the helping hand of another, in the unexpected pat on the back for something we’ve done well, in a burst of energy we get from another noticing some good we’ve done. In these and many other ways, goodness abounds and relationships grow. Paschal mystery living means taking up our cross daily and actually doing what Jesus did—willing the good of others. Doing so sometimes means risking isolation: being snubbed by coworkers, being ridiculed for giving of our time and possessions for the good of others. Such isolation because of paschal mystery living is not the loss it seems, however, for it gains us deeper community in the Body of Christ
Everyone Is Looking For You Last week, as I was walking down the main hall of our Motherhouse, several people stopped me and said, “Sister….is looking for you” After the third such greeting, the temptation was to hide so that I could accomplish my list of to dos! However, my service that day was to the call of Christ in those greetings! In the gospel Simon says to Jesus, “Everyone is looking for you.” Jesus is having great success healing many people and driving out demons. All who encounter him adore him. He is a rising star! People are paying great attention to him—“The whole town was gathered” at the door of Simon and Andrew’s house. Jesus could have been a hit reality show! Nonetheless, Jesus moves on to other villages. Personal idolization is not the purpose for which Jesus has come. His ministry is not about drawing attention to himself, but about preaching the Good News of salvation. Yet his ministry is about himself, for he is the Good News. His ministry is about reaching out to others and easing their burdens of life. And so he cures those brought to him who are “ill or possessed by demons.” But his ministry is more than this. Jesus never loses sight of why he came—to preach the Good News of salvation. His ministry is about helping others move beyond their immediate life concerns to reach for the Life he offers them. The healing is the medium for calling the people to a renewed relationship with God. In the midst of attention and adulation by the people for what he is doing, Jesus never loses sight of his mission to bring a deeper healing to everyone. Jesus never loses sight of his mission because he never loses sight of his Father. In the midst of his success, he goes “off to a deserted place, where he prayed.” The source of Jesus’ fidelity to his mission is his relationship with his Father. Like those in the gospel who come to Jesus for healing, we all come to Jesus with expectations (after all, prayers of petition are the most common prayers we pray). The challenge is to move beyond our expectations to what Jesus really wants to give us—the Good News of salvation. Jesus’ Presence to us today and his healing hand do not assure us that we will never suffer. Human life is full of suffering—physical, emotional, spiritual. The new life and hope Jesus brings by preaching the Good News assures us, however, of having the strength to keep the suffering in perspective. Jesus assures us that suffering belongs to this life, but this is not all there is to life. This is the Good News he preaches. We need to allow Jesus’ Presence to transform us so that our every breath is a proclamation of God’s Good News, his saving mystery. Most of us won’t go out to neighboring towns to preach. But we can smile a simple thank you to the tired cashier in the supermarket. We can bite our tongue rather than snap at the rambunctious children. We can do something thoughtful for someone when it is not expected. Like Jesus, we can be a living Gospel, the Good News in action. We are the Good News when we, like Jesus, take time in prayer to encounter him, grow in our love for him, draw strength from him.
What Makes For Authority? So what makes for authority? The capacity to look into a person’s heart and make an effective difference to his or her life. In this Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus’ authority is recognised as superior to that of the scribes. These men had position, influence and knowledge but that didn’t give them authority. Playing on the word, I like to think of an authority as one who can author life in another. To do that an authority needs three things: a respect for the other, a belief and hope in the other’s growth, a knowledge of what to say or do to help the other to grow. Did you notice that this is all about ‘the other’ not about the person in authority? We can see why Jesus says elsewhere that the one in authority is the one who serves, the one who is on the floor washing the dirt from the other’s feet. This is not serving by being busy, working hard for others, demanding respect and privileges. This is service shaped by the needs of the other and how he or she can effectively be served. Each and every one of us is called to offer authority at times in our lives. Position has little to do with it. What is central is to offer the love of Jesus to those in need and give them hope that their lives will improve.
Come! Last week and this, the Gospel gives us “call stories,” tales of people being called upon to do something. Here is Mark’s take on the familiar story of Jesus calling some fishermen to follow. Many modern commentators speculate that these guys already knew Jesus. They’d heard him teach before, or had mutual friends, or worshiped in the same synagogue. So, even though it’s still a huge deal that they left their livelihoods behind to follow, it may very well be that they were heading off with a somewhat familiar face and voice. Many of us moderns read this story and wonder if people are still called today. I think we are. Following Jesus requires change, whether that be the radical one of leaving all to follow Jesus, or the more modest one of turning from the little everyday behaviors that cause us to focus on ourselves and our own needs rather than on Jesus and the needs of others. This means, of course, that this kind of change required for discipleship always has a cost. This gospel (which begins this year’s sequential reading from Mark) is a call-response episode similar to last Sunday’s gospel from John. Here, however, the call comes within the context of Jesus’ proclamation that now is “the time of fulfillment.” “The kingdom of God is at hand” in Jesus who manifests God’s abiding Presence, God’s promise of forgiveness, God’s unparalleled power to save. To enter into this “time of fulfillment,” we must leave everything behind and answer Jesus’ call to follow him. The gospel portrays following Jesus in radical terms: turn from evil, leave all to follow Jesus. For most of us, this is not the kind of discipleship that following Jesus requires of us. Rather, to be faithful followers of Jesus we must change and be more Christlike in the little ways that are part of our everydays: turn to listen to someone rather than let our minds wander; root out whatever attitudes and behaviors most annoy those with whom we live; think only positive thoughts, especially about others. It’s these little changes that probably actually cost us the most! It’s also these little changes that help us grow into faithful dis¬ciples and that make evident that “the time of fulfillment” is now.
Home By Another Way It is the dead of winter now in the northern hemisphere. The days are short, the nights are long. Most of us like to be indoors early where it is warm and safe and light. Darkness is not appealing to us. Once the sun goes down the temperature begins to drop; the creatures of the night emerge; often crime takes place. We tend to associate danger with darkness. But in these readings the “danger” is in the light. It is light that brings us to encounter “the newborn king of the Jews.” It is the light of encounter that challenges us, offers us choice, changes us. We ought to run from the light. Instead, the magi embrace it. They follow it. They trust it. Darkness or light? Such stark contrasts. Which do we choose? This gospel uncovers a number of contrasts: the magi-Gentiles from the east vs. Herod and the Jews of all Jerusalem; the light of the star that guided the magi vs. the darkness of Herod’s heart; the “newborn king of the Jews” thought to be found in Jerusalem, the home of Israel’s king vs. this Child being found in the small village of Bethlehem; Herod breeding evil in his heart to keep his power and status vs. the magi who paid homage and offered gifts to the Child. Searching for and finding the Christ necessitates a choice in face of contrasts: to accept or reject this new in-breaking of God. Further, there can be no encounter with Christ without a change in us. Like the magi we, too, will find Christ if we search diligently. God also gives us a light that guides us. What leads us and prompts us to seek the divine is more than simple light, though; it is always God’s power to lead us to encounter the divine. The light is Christ, the Light of the world. God leads us just as surely as the star led the magi to Bethlehem. We must choose to trust in God’s loving Presence and sure guidance. There will be inevitable setbacks and challenges as we struggle with following the light; our everyday lives are filled with obstacles and restlessness which can get us off track. We must “search diligently”: God and God’s will can be found in many circumstances of our family life, work, and leisure times. Sometimes we must change course and take “another way”: conversion is an ongoing milestone in Christian living. This feast day of the Lord’s epiphany reminds us that the light of Christ is a diffuse one; it permeates all the world, diffuses salvation everywhere, and invites all people to live in the light. Our response: give of the treasure of our hearts. Give over our very selves to the light.
Emmanuel Jesus has many titles, and at Christmastime, we’re reminded that Jesus is called by yet another name: Emmanuel, which means “God with us.” Eight days after his birth, he was circumcised and named Jesus, which means “God saves” and was the name an angel told Mary and Joseph to give him. This name itself, heavenly selected, is an object of Catholic devotion, a name to be venerated throughout the year. Immanuel by Michael Card on Grooveshark
Adoration Of The Magi The magi offer the Child their gifts but they gaze up and off into the distance. Perhaps they’re asking of the star they followed: Is this really the One to whom you’ve led us? And Joseph…Joseph stands apart, keeping a wary eye on these wealthy visitors. Can you read his thoughts? How came they knocking on my door? Their gifts are so extravagant! What do these strangers want? Not surprisingly, Mary, the loving Mother, keeps her eye on her Child. Might she see in this unexpected visit the twists and turns her Son’s life will take? And yet, see how she offers her Child, holding him forth, already aware that he belongs not to her – but to all… The Child’s eyes tell us clearly that he has no need of these fine offerings. He wants something else from each of is: he desires the gift of our hearts…
Christmas 2014 Come Christmas! No one is ever really ready for Christmas. If we were really all prepared: If every gift we had contemplated had been obtained; If every present was beautifully beribboned; If all the goodies our friends deserve were baked and cooled, and stored just so; If each and every person we love was gathered for our celebration; If we never snapped at someone we care about, nor stopped short of being all that we could be; If our minds were 100 per cent loving and our hearts were 100 per cent generous; They truly would be ready —and truly we would not need Christmas quite so much. So come, Christmas, most needed of seasons. Come with the reminder that love does not depend on Perfection but on willingness to risk connection. Come into the unready manger of our hearts That we may feel the warmth of new life And give flesh to the promise of hope That cries to bring healing into our world. Come Christmas! Come, Love, Come, Hope. Be born in our unready hearts On this silent and holy night. [M. Maureen Killoran]
Great Expectations Parents know the different cries of their baby: whether it’s a cry of discomfort, hunger, anger. The very sound of the baby’s cry includes something of the baby’s experience and need. Though not able to speak words yet, the baby nevertheless is quite capable of communicating, and good parents are ever attuned to this constant and revealing self-information that helps them give comfort and security to their little bundle of love. Advent calls us to be ever attuned to the cries around us that testify to the Light come into our midst and that challenge us to encounter Christ in such a way that we cannot hold within ourselves our own cries of recognition and commitment. After saying clearly who he is not (“Christ or Elijah or the Prophet”), John does say who he is: “I am the voice of one crying out in the desert.” So who is John? The one who in his very being recognizes the Christ who has come to lead the people into the fullness of light and Life. Testifying with conviction to the light of Christ must be more than speaking words; the conviction is conveyed—cried out—by the way we choose to live each day. We are to do good works (“bring glad tidings to the poor,” “heal the brokenhearted,” etc.; first reading). Testifying with conviction also means that we must constantly grow in our relationship to Christ and learn to recognize him even where we might not expect to find him. Yes, sometimes we are like the people in the gospel in that we seek the Messiah but often do not recognize his Presence in our midst. The work of Advent is to intensify our good works so that we become attuned to recognizing Christ here and now; even more, it is the work of our whole Christian lives. As we near the celebration of Christmas, we ourselves must take up John’s conviction, John’s cry. Testifying with conviction comes to greater fullness when we have been tried in the various “deserts” of our daily living. Testing confronts us with choices, and making good choices attunes us to Christ’s Presence to us in so many ways. This testing brings us growth and liveliness. It helps us see in new ways and cry out with ever greater urgency. What is at stake is recognition of the Messiah-Christ among us. It’s easy and comfortable to recognize Christ in the expected places and ways. When we enter the peace of a church, for example, we expect to find God. When we sit and pray in our homes, we expect to find God and have our prayers answered. All this is good. The “deserts” of our own lives are opportunities testing us and leading us to deeper conviction about who Christ is. For example, the “desert” of a long, debilitating illness tests our trust in God’s Presence and care. The “desert” of a failed relationship tests our understanding of love and fidelity, and our willingness to forgive. The “desert” of unemployment and financial stress tests our priorities and values and our willingness to depend on God. Such testing shapes our convictions, helps us encounter Christ in our daily living, and enables us to testify to him with greater authenticity. Especially during these final days before Christmas when everyone is so busy, we can forget that our mission is like John’s: to testify to the Light by crying out its Presence in our midst. We do this by how we respond to those around us: take time to listen to the one hurting, visit those who might be forgotten, do with a little less ourselves so others might have more, take time to pray, remember to give thanks, offer a helping hand, reorganize our priorities, praise the God in others.
Prepare The Way We often see old war films showing a scene of two uniformed armed forces personnel ringing the doorbell of an average home, the door is opened, and the woman answering sees the soldiers and immediately swoons. No words are needed for her to know the news is dire. These messengers are doing their duty, but it is not a pleasant one. Other messengers are welcomed with open arms and joy, for example, when the boss’s secretary brings out the vacation schedule and the laborer has gotten the vacation time requested or when the child brings home an improved report card to the parents. Still other messengers might leave us wondering, uncertain, searching. In this gospel John is the messenger for “One mightier than I [who] is coming after me.” His message was new and startling: “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” No doubt John’s hearers received his message with wondering, uncertain, searching hearts. John was a desert ascetic whose mission was to prepare the people for a life-transforming change—the Lord is coming! Who is this Lord? One mightier than John. How so? John announces the nearness of salvation; Jesus is the salvation. John baptizes with water, Jesus with the Holy Spirit. What does this mean? Jesus’ baptism instills God’s very Life through the power of the Holy Spirit within us. Baptism with the Holy Spirit trans¬forms our preparation into fulfillment—the Lord has come! Here is the key to grasping John’s message: by our encountering the Lord, our own wondering, uncertainty, and searching about the meaning of John’s message is dispelled. John’s humility as depicted in the words of this gospel (“One mightier than I”) did not rest in a false sense of his own worth, but instead on his own deep conviction about who Jesus is, a conviction that only could come from his having encountered the One whom he proclaimed. Like John, we too must personally encounter the very One whose messengers we, too, are to be. Encounter with the Lord’s Presence opens us to the Spirit with whom we’ve been baptized, enabling us to have greater clarity about the message and the One whom we proclaim by the quality of our own holy living. John the Baptist diverted attention from himself to Jesus. His ministry was not about himself but about the “One mightier than I [who] is coming after me.” He proclaimed repentance, prepared for Jesus, died—this was the pattern of John’s life. Actually, it’s the pattern of Jesus’ life, too: he proclaimed the Good News, prepared the way to the Father, died. Further, it’s the pattern of our own paschal mystery living: proclaim the gospel of repentance, prepare for Christ’s many comings, die to ourselves. During this Advent are we primarily preparing ourselves for life-transforming change or merely preparing to celebrate a secular Christmas? What are our expectations? How does John the Baptist challenge us with a new set of expectations? Who helps us listen to John and respond? What prepares us to open ourselves to respond more fully to the Spirit with whom we have been baptized? Do our responses show that we know our expectations will be exceeded? What really prepares us for the changes the coming of the Lord will bring into our lives?
Stay Awake With today’s instant and easy communication technology, it is difficult to imagine not knowing when someone for whom we’re waiting will come. We know the exact time when the plane will land, when the car leaves the Interstate, when the guest is arriving at our house. While Christ doesn’t exactly communicate by texting us of his every arrival, when our watching for him is alert and wakeful, we begin to see all the signs of his Presence to us now. We prepare best for Christ’s final coming by the kind of watching we do now and how we grow in our ability to recognize his presence now. We begin Advent this Sunday not by looking to Christ’s first coming into our midst at the Incarnation, but by looking to Christ’s return at the end of time. Christ has come, fulfilled his mission, and then, like the “lord of the house” in the gospel, is “traveling abroad.” We, “his servants in charge,” have each been given our own work to do until Christ returns. And what is our first and most important work? Watching for Christ’s coming! We must always remember that the watching is never in vain: our watching hastens encounters with the very One on whom we wait. Our watching and encountering is now and in it the past and future meet. We live now, and in this present moment Christ is within us and among us. Four times in this gospel Christ commands us, “Be watchful!” or “Watch!” While we are to watch for Christ’s Second Coming, that future can be elusive for us. What is immediate and manageable is to watch for Christ’s coming now into our midst. Being watchful and alert for the Second Coming is not enough; we must consciously seek to identify Christ already present now. If we are pro¬actively watching for everyday encounters with Christ, he will surely not find us “sleeping,” neither now nor when he returns. The Second Coming becomes real for us in our encounters with Christ in the here and now. Christ’s glory be¬comes real for us in our encounter with Christ in the here and now. Our watching for Christ’s coming is heightened by seeing God in the simple, everyday things we do. Our lives often seem to bog down with the endless “sameness” of things. We spend Advent in the time and place we always live, and we still can find Christ anew because he is ever making us anew. When we encounter Christ, we actually encounter who we are now and who we are becoming. The work of Advent is to “Be watchful!” so that we grow in being Christ’s Presence for others. We are the servants left in charge; we are the ones who watch and wait for the master’s return. The gospel illustrates for us how we are to be during our watching: we are not only to watch for Christ, but we watch Christ. From him we learn how to reach out to others. Our work is futile when it serves our own ends; it is fruitful when it manifests the very work the Son came to do—bring justice and peace to a weary world. Only by encountering Christ and opening ourselves to his goodness is our weariness soothed, our energy quickened, and our lives expressed in the joy of the Word being made flesh today in us.
Double The Wealth After high school and college I never thought I would need or use algebra again. But the readings today remind me of a basic algebraic equation, X + Y = Z. This came to me because today’s Gospel reading isn’t about talents such as singing or making pottery. In Jesus’ time, a talent was a monetary unit equal to the amount of 6000 denarii. This amount of money was equal to 20 years of labor and is therefore something that can be quantified into an understandable number today. So even one talent was valuable. So the way that I interpreted this equation is that (X) is a non-variable number, meaning it cannot change, (Y) is a variable number, which means it can change, and (Z) is the outcome. In this analogy (X) can be either an individual or a community, such as a youth group, church, or work place. (Y) is the amount of love we have for God and each other. The number for (Y) is achieved through the sum of the subset (a + b). (a) is the percentage of faith (X) has in God, added to (b), the percentage of doubt and/or fear felt by (X) due to the amount of understanding or misunderstanding (X) has about life and God and what is truth based on the information (X) has received so far by the world and the church. (Z) is the amount of joy that (X) produces in the world. For this reflection I’m going to use a single church community as (X). Therefore, in Proverbs, a worthy bride is valued beyond any earthly treasure by the bridegroom because the bride, the church, reaches out to the poor and the needy. This brings joy to the bridegroom, God. Like the servants in this Sunday’s Gospel who are entrusted with the master’s talents, each church community is given the gift of God’s love through the blessings in our lives and in the great gift of Jesus. No matter the size of the church or even the denomination, each church is accountable before God with how much joy they bring to the world by the way they love God and love their neighbor. Paul tells us that in order to be a people of the light, we can’t be like everybody else. We can’t just do business as usual. We can’t just be a church that goes through the motions but buries the gift of Jesus in the ground or keeps it to ourselves or shares it only on Sunday. If our church community is truly a church that is filled with more faith than fear, the love it gives will produce a better world outside of the church community. There will be more joy in the world because of that community or youth group or school or work place. Our church documents tell us that we must have full, active, and conscious participation in mass in order to receive its full effects. In other words, the affect worship has on us is the amount of (Z) it produces, the amount of joy; the amount of people that are affected by us revealing the gift of Jesus to those who don’t know him; the gift of God to the poor and the suffering around us so that they too may reveal love to others. Therefore (Z) is sacramental because it makes an invisible truth visible in a way that can be understood by humanity. Algebra isn’t hard to do. It just takes a different part of the brain to see its value. So often in my life I can see where I just buried the gift of God’s love through Jesus in the ground because I was embarrassed or afraid to share my faith with others. I can also see that because I didn’t share it, I didn’t produce any joy in those around me. As I’ve grown older I’ve come to see that the most valuable gift I have been given beyond any earthly possession is the gift of faith, for without it I might as well go bury my head in the sand. Here’s a little algebraic prayer to close. “Lord, I know not the hour you will take me home, so increase my (Y) so that you will be happy with the amount (Z) I have produced for you when I see you face to face.”
Dedication Of The Lateran Basilica Overflowing dumpsters and increasing numbers of landfills indicate that we are a nation of great consumers. We are zealous about having an abundance of possessions, a surplus of food, access to anything we want. The Gospel for today’s feast is the scene of Jesus driving the vendors and money changers out of the temple. It raises an important counter question: Are we willing to be consumed for the sake of our faith? Jesus was willing to be consumed by his zeal for our salvation. He chose to confront those who profaned his Father’s house. He chose to offer his body as a living temple, a sign of something new happening. He chose to give his life and for that, was raised to New Life. In a sense, today’s feast is a celebration of our own life and the Life we receive from God through the church. This feast calls us to a zeal that will consume us when we give our lives or others as Jesus did. Are we willing to open ourselves to others, becoming vulnerable in order to be the presence of God to them? Are we willing to stand up for justice despite personal cost? Even while we are being consumed, God’s Spirit continually fills us with Life and courage and strength to continue the mission of Jesus. Are we willing to choose this zeal that consumes us?
All Souls When I was a young girl, we often spent extra time at Church for All Souls Day! It was our understanding that we could ‘save’ souls who were waiting their turn to get into heaven. We simply had to make a visit to the Church and say three Our Fathers, three Hail Marys, and three Glory Bes and a soul would be released from Purgatory to be with God. It was our simple faith and we did believe! We made a lot of Church visits on November 2nd! How about you? In addition, every priest had the opportunity to say three Masses that day for the souls of the dead. They would say the Masses one right after the other. I can remember being able to attend all three (!) and then be excused from our tardy arrival at school. Things were different before the Second Vatican Council! Now, the Feast of All Souls is observed immediately after the feast of All Saints. Vatican II provided new perceptions about who God is and about what is important to remember. Today, the Church doesn’t talk much about Purgatory or All Souls or the notion of souls released from purgatory to finally get into heaven. The Catholic Church usually doesn’t indicate that it might have been wrong or misinformed. Instead, the Church simply starts a new page and rolls onward. This can be a good thing. Our theology of Forgiveness is strong and can be appreciated by all God’s people. We can seek God’s forgiveness daily through our prayer and our self examen. In this way, we can ask forgiveness from another or others as soon as we realize that we have offended them. This takes honesty and integrity to look at ourselves and then to seek out the other to ask for pardon. This is a central Catholic belief; it’s part of our daily living as we pray the Our Father. Some teachers of the Catholic Faith would say: Purgatory is a process of being made ready to see God and remain in God’s presence forever. It’s a kind of purification process which wipes out our sins and imperfections so that these do not deter us from God. Finally, it’s also rare that November 2nd falls on a Sunday and takes precedence over the actual Sunday Celebration. It’s a wholesome thought to pray for the dead. We pause to remember all those whom we have loved in life who have gone before us. May they rest in God’s peace. As we celebrate and remember, here is a video in which Monique Jacobs shares a personal story of a loved one lost and how we might remember these close relationships with the eyes of faith. Sarah Hart’s touching song, Go in Peace, accompanies our prayer reflection.
Let Us Come To The Feast There are about 77 days left until Christmas. I am reminded of this not because the secular world has already started its Christmas selling frenzy; they are still too concerned with ghosts and goblins. Rather, in the last few weeks our Scripture readings at Mass are about the end times. We have been hearing a lot of parables about working in the vineyard. Last week, we heard in the Gospel, about the tenants who failed to produce a harvest for the Lord. And the question, “What will the owner of the vineyard do to those tenants when he comes?” They answered him, “He will put those wretched men to a wretched death.” As you may know, the Church’s liturgical year begins with the First Sunday of Advent . The last Sunday of Ordinary Time is Christ the King Sunday. As we approach that great solemnity of Christ the King, the Church asks us to meditate upon Judgment Day. We say in the Creed every Sunday, “That Christ will come to judge the living and the dead.” We hear in this week’s Gospel, the parable of the wedding feast. We hear of those who, though invited, refuse to come to the feast and we hear how everyone, whomever the servant finds are invited. But though many are invited, few are chosen. The choosing is not what God does from among all those invited; the choosing is what we do in our response to God. This response is a clear choice to do all we need to do in our daily living to witness to the presence of the kingdom of God. We respond each day: when we listen attentively to each other and in our listening strengthen and encourage that person, we are choosing to come to the banquet. When we clothe the poor, feed the hungry, shelter the homeless, we are choosing to come to God’s banquet. How we respond to multiple situations and people in our ordinary lives all mark how we choose to respond to the invitation. Let us come to the feast! Image: “The Wedding Feast” by Kazakhstan Artist Nelly Bube.
The Lord Is Near In today’s Gospel Jesus returns to the Old Testament symbol of the vineyard to teach about Israel, the Church, and the kingdom of God. Jesus picks up the story where Isaiah leaves off, even using Isaiah’s words to describe the vineyard’s wine press, hedge, and watchtower. Israel’s religious leaders, the tenants in His parable, have learned nothing from Isaiah or Israel’s past. Instead of producing good fruits, they’ve killed the owner’s servants, the prophets sent to gather the harvest of faithful souls. In a dark foreshadowing of His own crucifixion outside Jerusalem, Jesus says the tenants’ final outrage will be to seize the owner’s son, and to kill him outside the vineyard walls. For this, the vineyard, which Jesus calls the kingdom of God, will be taken away and given to new tenants – the leaders of the Church, who will produce its fruit. We are each a vine in the Lord’s vineyard, grafted onto the true vine of Christ (see John 15:1-8), called to bear fruits of the righteousness in Him (see Philippians 1:11), and to be the “first fruits” of a new creation (see James 1:18). We need to take care that we don’t let ourselves be overgrown with the thorns and briers of worldly anxiety. No matter what shape the vineyard of our own lives is – whether we need pruning or we seem to be in a very dry desert- if we keep our eyes on Christ as the cornerstone of our lives we will be fruitful, enjoy being tenants in God’s kingdom and receive the life God offers us. All we need is to be faithful; God will tend us, God will take care of the rest! Image: Kazakhstan Artist Nelly Bube
Doing The Will of God In the parable of the Two Sons, another parable unique to Matthew’s Gospel, the father calls one son first to go work in the vineyard. He refuses, but later relents and goes to work. The second son placates the father with a quick agreement to go and work but he never actually goes. Then Jesus asks, “Which of the two did the will of his father?” He tells a story and then asks the listeners to answer a question. The answer seems straightforward on first glance. The first son did the father’s will. But with a second glance, we see that both sons brought dishonor to the father, the first by his words, the second by his deeds. Neither son was in the right. One had the words, and the other had the deeds. We remember from Matthew’s conclusion to the Sermon on the Mount that merely saying the right words does not ensure entry into the kingdom of heaven. Active obedience to Jesus’ teachings must be present Matthew probably meant his community to hear this parable as a summons to the Jewish leaders of their day to imitate the first son and join them in believing in Jesus. He also meant it as a nudge to those Christians who had initially said ‘yes’ and then wavered. Some people struggle to ever make a commitment in the first place, but once they do, are able to muster the discipline and enthusiasm to honor it. Others seem to have less trouble coming to a decision, but then have trouble following through. Many of us fall somewhere in between. Learning God’s ways and changing may, indeed, be a slow and practiced way of life for all of us. Dying to self means our yes is yes and our no is no. To all of us imperfect disciples, Jesus addresses the question, “Which of you is doing the will of the Father?”
The Kingdom Of Heaven Is Like…. Imagine those first comers, the ones who had worked hard all day in the severe heat, saying, “Isn’t it fantastic that the landowner gave the men who came late a full day’s pay? We were concerned that they wouldn’t have enough for their families’ needs. We realize that some of them are no-hopers but we can go home happy and content now because we all have enough for our needs.” Who on earth would think like that? Saints – and isn’t that what we are called to be. Imagine how our society would operate if the genuine good of all was the true guiding principle for the way we treated all, especially the marginalised. Imagine: If we truly sought the rehabilitation of prisoners and the real protection of society, we wouldn’t talk in terms ‘paying a debt to society’ or of ‘punishment’ but rather of being rehabilitated to live well in society…then if violent offenders didn’t choose to be rehabilitated then they choose not to live in society. If we truly sought to give the disabled a meaningful involvement in the community, then we would offer work they could do even if it meant we had to be patient and adapt to their needs. Yes, you did read that right, we adapt to their needs and stop expecting them to live up to our abilities. If we truly saw the need of asylum seekers to be integrated members of society, then we would endeavor to bring them into our local community with the offer of work. It is no easy task being laborers in God’s vineyard! Emptying ourselves of our own wishes and desires, our own focus on our way of doing things. To be faithful, we must immerse ourselves in God’s thoughts and ways. We are to put others first, to forgive with no strings attached. Yes, I admit the above sounds idealistic but this is our calling as Christians. We are the recipients of the largesse of a generous God and God seriously expects us to be God-like in our generosity. St Catherine of Siena said “You have only truly received a gift from God when you have given it away.”
Son Of Man Be Lifted UP Today, we celebrate the Exaltation of the Cross. A feast tat celebrates Life, not death. Jesus came down from heaven and was raised up, and in this down and up we find new Life. “Up” and “Down” are words that capture seeming contradictions. The space between up and down, heaven and earth, divinity and humanity is closed by the obedience, self-emptying and fidelity of the Son. This feast celebrates that on the cross Jesus overcomes these contradictions. We are drawn into the mystery of the cross as exaltation by our belief in the Son. Our believing bridges the space between God and us, between Life and death, between being saved or perishing. The cost- obedience, death. Yet eternal Life that is given is worth the cost! The question the gospel leaves with us is, How much do we believe? The mystery of the cross challenges us to enter into pain, suffering and death as the means to Life. This mystery doesn’t make it any easier to accept pain, suffering and death; what it gives is meaning and depth. Like Jesus, we don’t empty ourselves for the sake of pain and suffering, we accept these for the sake of new Life-in the suffering is the glory.