Category: Weekly Reflection

Has something of importance ever slipped by you unnoticed? When did you realize its importance? What did you do about it?
I don’t know about you. But I can only do one thing at a time. “Multi-tasking” is difficult for me. I stand in awe of people who can do more than one thing at a time. 
When I am pressured and try to do more than one thing at the moment, I can get confused. These are the times I am vulnerable. Someone could approach me with a matter of importance, and I would treat it as trivial. I must admit I have made too many wrong decisions when important decisions needed to be made. Simply because I was distracted, confused.
If you are like me, then a time for reflection each day is a must. For, in reflection, we can see the gravity of events around us. And take action.
Jesus was no different. But his reflection came in times of prayer.
This Sunday’s gospel can be divided into two sections: John’s rejection of the title “Messiah” and the introduction of the real Messiah.
“He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” The baptism of fire could refer to the Final Judgment or to spiritual maturation. In the first sense, the Holy Spirit and the Final Judgment are opposed to each other. Christ as the Great Judge would favor his followers with the Spirit, while condemning those who rejected the Spirit.
In the second sense, the Spirit was the support for the Christian undergoing persecution (i.e., “fire”). Those who expected to grow in the Spirit would encounter opposition, even martyrdom, as a result of their choice. Spiritual maturity had a cost.
Luke presented the ministry of the Baptism as a dialogue between himself and his audience. John preached. His audience took his message to heart. At the core of John’s message was preparation for the Christ.
As the people’s expectations for the Messiah rose, John defined his own status. He was the prophet, not the Messiah. He was not worthy of the Coming One. Just as Mark wrote, Luke recorded the Holy Spirit and fire prediction of John. As the note above stated, there has been some discussion about the relationship between the Holy Spirit and fire. Personally, I think they are the same, God’s love and justice. [15-16]
“It happened (that) everyone (in John’s audience) was baptized also JESUS having been baptized and that, as HE was praying, the heavens were opened, the Holy Spirit visibly as a dove came down on HIM, and (there) was a voice from heaven: “YOU are my SON, (my) BELOVED, in YOU I am well pleased.”
Unlike the accounts found in Mark and Matthew, Luke simply recorded the fact that Jesus had been baptized (past tense). The revelation of the Trinity occurs during Jesus’ prayer, not as he rose out of the water. This reflected Luke’s emphasis not on historical event, but upon the revelation of it importance. For Luke, it was not when an event “happens to me”; it is the moment I “get it,” I make the connection. For Luke, prayer was the time of revelation and insight; Luke portrayed Jesus in prayer before the major decisions of his ministry.
For Luke, prayer was the time for grace, God with us. This could not be underestimated. Luke used the images of an actual dove and an actual voice to communicate the concrete reality of God’s grace with us. The heavens were torn open, so there was no barrier between God and his people. Grace was now present; the time of realization was in prayer.
When do you realize times of grace? How has your prayer time given you those “graced” moments?

Luke recorded the message of John and the baptism of Jesus along the lines of Mark and Matthew. But he changed one small detail. The moment of realization was in prayer.
Prayer is a time for gentle insight and peace. It is not earth shattering, but it can be earth moving. God can rule with justice, insight, and liberation, but we must take the time to realize his gifts in prayer.
We cannot multitask prayer and expect results.
This week, plan for prayer time as a time for reflection. Slow down and concentrate on your words to God. And your presence with God. See how God will bless your time with him.
Adapted from Renew International

Adjustments are a fact of life! We make them all day long, usually without thinking about it! For example, adjusting the volume on the TV,radio or iPod; we adjust our schedule to accommodate someone in need.Other adjustments take more thought and energy and have far-reaching consequences. Moving, marrying, baptizing all bring adjustments. Even changing liturgical seasons means adjusting to new gospel challenges.

This Sunday’s Gospel calls us to adjust our daily living in order to develop the vigilance that enables us to discern the signs of the Lord’s presence and to adjust the choices in our lives so we are blameless in holiness and thus, are more fittingly a testimony of the Son of Man’s power and glory.

The redemption at hand in the gospel is God’s work but it also calls for a response from us: growing in love, living in ways pleasing to God and being faithful. Moreover the very discernment of signs of the Lord’s presence is already a response-when we live as though the end times were now.

Often the anxieties of life blind us to the genuine signs of Christ’s presence and action. This time of year is filled with all kinds of distractions. The Advent season invites us to a more balanced perspective on what we really are about: continually opening ourselves to Christ’s presence. Thus Advent calls us to do deeper discernment about our lives and this very discernment is already a way to prepare for Christ’s coming now and in future glory.

Distress over the future again weaves itself through popular culture. After all, one wants to be left behind! (My apologies to Tim LaHaye). Uncertainty engulfs those on the fringe with paranoia and colors the majority with cynicism. So, what’s new? For the past two millennia, Christians have looked to the future and asked, “When, Lord, when?” To this question, Jesus had an answer.

In Mark’s gospel, Jesus addressed the coming day of the Lord in two ways: active anticipation and faith. Look for signs, Jesus told his followers, but trust in the Lord’s time, not your own.

Viewing the end of time, Jesus saw the event as the visit of the divine King. God would prepare the visit with cosmic signs and events as a means of announcement. The King would arrive in a way that reflected his power and reputation (on the clouds); his messengers-criers (“angels”) would go throughout the known world to gather all the faithful. Remember that the Jewish people had been displaced throughout the known world because of economic opportunity or oppression. Jesus implied that the injustice of Jews living on foreign soil would be corrected during his lifetime.

How did his disciples know Jesus spoke the truth? Jesus gave a farming analogy of the fig tree (green before the summer) to support his belief in God’s immanent judgement. Then he compared God’s creation to his words. Nature changed, but his words would not; they were eternal and, so, trustworthy.

After all that, Jesus said that only God knew the day (the time frame) or the hour (the exact moment) of these events. Doesn’t this contradict his preaching and assurance? To the impatient Westerner, the answer would seem to be “yes.” But Jesus challenged his disciples to see the process through God’s eyes. These things would happen in God’s time, not ours. The teaching of Jesus challenged both his audience and our uncertain time to trust God with the future. Anxiety and paranoia were futile responses to a situation that requires faith.

When are you coming, Lord? When!? While we might not be consumed with the question of the end time, personal anxiety in life will cause us to ask the question. Jesus’ answer to us is the same one he gave his followers two thousand years ago. Look for signs of his coming in the chaos of life. And trust in his time of your deliverance. Rest assured, he will come at the right time!

Adapted from Renew International

What is the highest value of our culture? How does that single value arrange other values?

When we ignore the rhetoric and simply look at someone’s lifestyle (ourselves or others), we’ll soon learn the answer to the question: what’s most important? The question asks more than values. It points toward a life orientation. It helps to answer the greater question: what is the purpose of life?

In a relationship with God, we can ask the same question: what’s most important? How does that question impact our prayer life, our family life, our social life? What one principle or character trait tells others we are followers of Christ?
A scribe asked Jesus that question. While Jesus’ answer may have been a common one at the time, the underlining understanding Jesus gave the answer changed more than his followers. It changed the world.

Jesus answered the first part of that question with the Shema, Deuteronomy 6:4-5. Love God with all your being. Love in this sense was not an inner emotion or psychological state alone. In the time and culture of Jesus, love meant allegiance. As God made a covenant with his people (a formal allegiance between a king and his subjects), he demanded a response. A commitment and a faithful life to that allegiance (i.e., covenant) was the only answer.
Jesus backed up the Shema with another important verse: love of neighbor. This meant allegiance to one’s community. Of course, different groups could interpret this phrase in different ways.

What did love for one’s neighbor mean to the followers of the Nazarene? For the evangelizing Christians, love meant a certain openness to the stranger, the outcast, and the sinner. For many Christians had found themselves with those titles in the past. In addition, it meant caring for those who had no one else to care for them: widows and orphans. Finally, it meant a code of conduct that showed the utmost fidelity to community itself. They clung to each other for survival, for strength, and for growth.

What’s most important? What’s first? With apologies to the late Bud Abbot and Lou Costello, the question can be put another way for the Christian. Who’s on first? Just as that line set up the classic comedy routine, that line sets up our perspective on life. Who’s on first in our life? Is it us or Jesus? If the answer is us, we’re on our own. For, we have put ourselves in God’s place. So there is no room for God or others. If, however, the answer is Jesus, we can rest assured God is helping us to love him with our very being and everyone else as ourselves.

Adapted from Renew International.

From a very young age we learn to see through the eyes of others. We learn to desire what we see. We desire what other people desire.
 
We learn to look from our parents, friends and culture. Through our parents we learn shame and approval, what is dirty or clean, what is beautiful, and what is profane. We see the objects they identify; we laugh when they laugh. We respond to their attention.
 
If you’re worried about what your kids are watching, first take the step of watching their shows. They will learn to see how you see things, simply because you are there. Simply sharing the act of watching is a powerful way to influence and be influenced.
 
Our peers heighten the objects of desire. Through them we learn to like and dislike musical genres, judge other groups, and test who we want to be. We learn to pay attention to what they pay attention to. It is obvious of us in high school, but it is equally true of us as adults, depending on our associations and communities.
 
Most people think that the way they see the world is the way the world is. Such a view may be generally right. The danger is thinking that our way of seeing the world is the only way the world works.
 
In today’s gospel we have blind Bartimaeus, who cannot see. At least, he doesn’t see the same way the crowd does.
 
Bartimaeus is one person among many. The many see Bartimaeus as bearing the punishment for someone’s sin. Their God is not particularly merciful. They probably do quite well within that system of thinking: the parents do something wrong, or someone does something wrong, and God punishes them. That’s how the many see things. It might be just in the abstract, but cruel in the particular event of the blind man’s life.
 
The blind man is different. He cannot see what they see. They witness to a punishing God of power and glory and grandeur – they expect a tyrant, although perhaps a sympathetic and just one. But instead, the blind man announces Jesus characteristic, his person, his act, as “mercy.”
 
Jesus then says, “your faith” has made you well. Not the blind man’s brother Bobby’s faith. Not the faith of the many; not even Jesus’ faith. Not the faith once delivered. Not the government’s faith. Bartemeus’ faith.
His faith allowed him to see something that the many could not see: that the Lord is a lord of mercy.
 
Sometimes I wonder if he could always see — but he just didn’t know how. He got the colors, the outlines, the general dimensions, but he couldn’t organize these images in the same way. The many knew how to look in their own way. Surrounded by violence and oppression, they would think that God was the sort that administered punishment through violence the average way tyrants do. The single man just didn’t know how to look.
 
But there is plenty in Hebrew scripture that alludes to a merciful God. The “blind” man knew it, but the crowd just didn’t see it. So he takes his risk, and cries “mercy.”
 
The healing was the common language that both the blind man and the many understood. Healing, however, was not the crucial point. The blind man sees God anew because Jesus heard the blind man’s voice.
 
Crowds, the many, our friends, and peers, have an immense power over how we see. Our role is to imitate desires that build peace than disguise violence, calling out the truth instead of succumbing to conventional wisdom. We do this by revealing the truth; remembering and reminding others how we mirror each other’s desires, and can redeem them through peace, truth and honesty. And we learn to hear the single voice, the one that claims mercy, that is easily silenced in the cacophonous din of the shouting crowd.
 
The blind man’s faith is grounded in God’s peace. The many can encourage violence against the innocent. The blind man, whether innocent or guilty, merely knew that God is a God of mercy. The blind man announced a truth. If you want to address mass hysteria, make sure that the truth gets told. The hardest challenge, of course, is to learn to look differently, to look comprehensively, to see the world as God does: with empathy and mercy for his creation. This is a risk — it seems entirely possible that the blind man could have been lynched were it not for the impressive nature of Jesus’ healing.
 
The story is not meant to make the world seem easy. In his blindness, his social location, he could still call, “Lord, have mercy.” He may not have known all the facts about his condition; he may not have held all the correct and conventional opinions; and he may have truly deserved his plight. But in recognizing the true nature of God, in calling out and being heard, perhaps he discovered he had always been able to see.
 
Adapted from Renew International
 
 

Glory is so attractive! Who doesn’t want to be wealthy and famous? Who doesn’t want a shelf lined with trophies and awards? The attraction of glory spurs us to greater achievement. This is especially true of our baptismal life in the risen Christ. What glory attracts us? What do we aspire to achieve to share in this glory?

“Do whatever we ask of you,” James and John demand of Jesus. But they have it backwards. They should have said, “Lord, what do you ask of us?” Are we willing to ask Jesus this question? If so, it will mean redefining our understanding of glory. It will mean shaping our life around choosing to serve others rather than be served. It will mean drinking the cup of suffering and undergoing the baptism of Jesus’ passion, death, and resurrection. Can we do this?

What spurs us to faithful baptismal, Gospel living is the attraction of sharing in Jesus’ glory. Increasing this attraction increases our willingness to drink Jesus’ cup of suffering through serving others. We do this, for example, when we live a joy-filled life in face of prolonged illness; see the good in others despite their hurtful actions; take time to reach out to the lonely, the outcast, the needy. Being the servant of all isn’t always something extra or big; most of the time it is simply doing our everyday tasks generously and with integrity while keeping in mind that others are the Body of Christ and to serve them is to serve Christ.

Can we do this? Will we do this?

Adapted from Renew International

At the beginning of this gospel, Jesus reminded his listeners of what God’s original plan was for marriage. A man and a woman were to be united and live as one. It was simple. But as relationships developed, marriage must have been as complicated then as it is now because Moses had to make concessions for the people.

Scholars still struggle with the words of Jesus in this gospel because imperfect relationships continue to exist today. What is clear in this reading is that in order to enter the Kingdom of Heaven we must accept it as a gift. Children in ancient times as well as our own, depend entirely on their parents (or society) for their care. To children, everything is a gift because they can’t earn anything. That is how it must be for us if we are to accept the Kingdom of God.

Parents are accustomed to doing and giving, mostly for their children, but certainly for others as well. That is why the notion of today’s gospel is probably one of the hardest for parents to accept. Jesus clearly lets us know that the Kingdom of God is a gift, given to us freely by God. It isn’t something we can volunteer for, clip coupons for, or negotiate. Children, if we let them, will show us how freely and innocently we can accept this gift. Parents, pay special attention to your child(ren) over the next few days and see if you can pick up any of their wisdom about the gift God offers each of us.

Having healthy, loving relationships does not imply that there are no struggles. Often these struggles strengthen a relationship by softening our hearts. In such openness God is present, the kingdom of God is among us.

Adaoted from Renew International

Magnets attract. The stronger the magnet, the stronger the attraction. Some large magnets are so powerful that it takes a great deal of muscle power to pull the magnet off the metal. Like attracts like. The more the convergences of ideas, values, and interests, the stronger the attraction. Jesus was a strong magnet who attracted disciples to him, disciples who acted in “his name,” who assumed his values.

We act in another’s name in many different circumstances, for example, as ambassadors, those with power of attorney, parents until a child is of legal age. When we act in another’s name, we are not acting as ourselves, but as the other. We are not serving our own needs or interests, but the other’s. So it is with those who act in Jesus’ name.

What does it mean to act in Jesus’ name? What is done in his name, even by those who seemingly are not disciples, continues his saving mission. Jesus is not concerned about who “belong” or not, but rather about whether what they do is consistent with his saving mission. Whoever places serving Jesus and his saving mission above serving their own needs and interests is a true disciple.

Faithfully acting in Jesus’ name requires radical choices on our part. For example, choosing to be a full, conscious, active participant in liturgy; choosing to follow Gospel values rather than merely follow the crowd; choosing to follow God’s call to ordained ministry or religious life. While these and many other radical choices are never easy, when we remain focused on Jesus and his saving mission, we cooperate with him in bringing about the kingdom of God. These choices are life-giving for us and others .Faithful service is expressed in making our own the values and mission that attract us to Jesus in the first place.

Adapted from Renew International
 
 

“Blindness cuts you off from things,” said Tom, “But deafness cuts you off from people, and that’s a lot worse.” I learned a lot from listening to Tom.

“I was about fifteen,” he said “when I quite suddenly went totally deaf. I had feared blindness as a child but did not think that deafness would be a very serious handicap. Now I came to realize that the most important thing in life is being related, and this happens most of all through the faculty of hearing. When deaf, I was isolated from so much of nature. I could no longer hear the singing of birds, or the waves beating the shore. I could not hear the voices of friends, words of comfort, hope and advice. At first some people tried to communicate with me but soon they grew tired. I could see my friends getting exasperated when I missed their meanings and they tired of writing notes to me. I became embarrassed by their embarrassment. I became terribly isolated and lonely within myself.”

“Soon I began to forget how to talk. Not being able to hear myself I had no control of how loudly I was speaking and I was being constantly signaled to raise or lower my voice. Insensitive people would laugh at my stammerings, so I eventually gave up trying and began to even lose the ability to talk. This meant that I could not explain myself. No matter how strong my feelings were, no matter how I was afraid and anxious, I just had to keep it bottled up inside myself. More and more I was left to myself. I did not contribute anything to the community and gradually I felt that I was useless and in the way.”

“I was a handicapped person and when you are different people are afraid of you. People are afraid, especially to touch you. How I longed for a shove or hug but people saw me as too delicate. Then, I was led to believe that my affliction was a punishment from God. I spent hours wondering what I might have done that I should be cursed by God. Perhaps this was the deepest isolation – being isolated even from God.”

“Then about two years ago in the same week, a neighbor offered to do pranic healing on me, a group of charismatics came and prayed over me, and a young surgeon offered to do a simple surgical procedure on my ears. He said he had read about it in a journal, he could not guarantee any results but he was sure that it would not do me any further harm. I do not know which was effective but a week later my hearing began to return. I felt that the finger of God’s love had touched me and a gush of joy overtook me for days.”

“At first I talked and talked – I needed to release what was bottled up inside me. I would try to talk to everyone I met. Then I realized that I was over-talking. I was not listening and I was hurting people by inflicting myself on them. I started trying to listen; to do this I had to stop talking and open not only my ears but also my heart. Then I discovered that most hearing people are deaf. I learned too that most people had speech impediments – we can never communicate exactly what we want to say. The greatest tragedy is not to be deaf and unable to speak but it is to have these faculties and never REALLY use them to listen below the surface of things.”

That was Tom’s touching story.

In today’s Gospel we see Jesus cure a man who was deaf and unable to speak. “Be opened”! Jesus commands as he heals him. He warns the man not to tell others because Jesus was interested in promoting a deeper cure and a deeper kind of hearing. The focus isn’t on the miracle but that God comes to save. The healing miracle is a sign of God’s superabundant life breaking open the closed human condition.

When we encounter Jesus, he commands, “Be opened!” and we too are healed; our ears are opened to hear the Good News and our tongues are loosened to proclaim it.

The encounter between Jesus and the deaf man captures the entire relationship between God and the human family. All that is necessary for us to receive salvation God offers is that we open ourselves to a relationship with God.

Adapted from Renew International, 2018

“Go wash your hands before you eat.”

How many parents don’t sound like broken record around meal time? Most often it is a case of hygiene, literally our hands were/are dirty. In our Gospel today, the case is different. Washing hands has nothing to do with literal dirt; rather it has to do with inner purity. Keeping the precepts, an external act, is indicative of internal conformity to God. Not keeping precepts is indicative of a broken relationship with God and results in the kinds of behaviors Jesus mentions at the end of our Gospel.

Hurtful and destructive behavior comes from within the heart. So central to our Gospel is the question, where does the heart lie? Jesus calls us to examine our behaviors and look at what in our hearts gives rise to our actions. When our hearts are focused on God, our actions are loving and good.

Discerning where our hearts truly lie is not always so easy. Fruitful discernment comes from personal prayer and reflection, from listening to others, examining our motives, opening ourselves to change and putting ourselves in another’s shoes to wake up to how we come across to others. Conversion of heart is crucial because it is of life or death.

It is relatively easy to change outward things about ourselves, for example a hair style But to change a lifestyle, for example, a healthy diet, stopping smoking, requires consistent lifelong effort. So too to do the work of interior transformation so that our interior intentions and external actions match up.

The real challenge is to surrender to God’s action deep within us and allow that interiorization of our identity and relationship with God to e expressed in our actions. The dying and rising, the paschal mystery, urge that our interior and extetrior selves be thge same. Only when our actions witness to hearts turned toward God can we be “pure”.

Conversion is not easy or swiftly achieved. The process does ensure us life in God and right relationships with each other.

Adapted from PrayerTime: Faith-Sharing Reflections on the Sunday Gospels available at the RENEW International.

Today’s Gospel follows last week’s gospel passage in which Jesus said, “I am the living bread that comes down from heaven… . whoever eats this bread will live forever.” Many of Jesus’ disciples said, “This saying is hard; who can accept it?” It is one thing to hear the words of Jesus and be excited and then to experience his healings. Jesus offers those who eat his body and drink his blood eternal life. But who is he? How can this be a real offer? It seems to many to be bizarre. Jesus knows this and says, “The words I have spoken to you are Spirit and life. But there are some of you who do not believe. For this reason I have told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted to him by my Father.”

Even Jesus himself allowed many of his disciples (not merely the crowds) to return to their former way of life when his teaching seemed too hard. Our faith is not subject to scientific scrutiny after which a demonstrable proof will be accepted by a rational mind. Instead, faith is a gift.

Peter’s response can be our own when faced with the overwhelming mystery of the gift of faith in the one sent from God. Yet, we should be humble with respect to this mystery, for the gift is not given to all, but only to those whom the Father grants it. In light of this it is good to be patient with those who do not share our faith. And when another does come to faith we can be assured that it is not be- cause of our wondrous evangelization, our dedication to a particular program, or our having memorized specific Scripture verses. God grants faith to those to whom he will.

Jesus is offering them an amazing gift, eternal life with him, but for some it is just too hard to believe. “Many of his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him.” Remember, this was written fifty years or more after the death of Jesus. John, who is the last living apostle, wants everyone to know that the journey of Jesus was not easy. His message was rejected even by some who started out to be his disciples. It all depended on their accepting a remarkable and yet almost unbelievable gift. When you think about it, that is the same for us today. Can we accept this wondrous gift from Jesus?

Adapted from PrayerTime: Faith-Sharing Reflections on the Sunday Gospels available at the RENEW International.

Eating is necessary for life. Do we eat to live, or live to eat? With respect to the Eucharist, the answer to this question—both parts of it—is yes. Eating and drinking the risen Christ’s Body and Blood gives us a share now in divine Life: we eat to live. Further, we must daily deepen our hunger for this divine Food that leads to eternal Life: therefore, in a real sense, we live to eat.

Jesus makes clear in this gospel that he is giving himself—his very flesh and blood—to us as our “living bread.” This “living bread” nourishes us now for our life in the risen Christ, and it also nourishes us on our journey toward Life everlasting. Jesus always invites us to his banquet table; it is ours to choose to take, eat and drink, and live this mystery.

Jesus’ invitation to eat and drink his flesh and blood is an invitation to enter into his own mystery of self-giving dying and rising. Eucharist is self-giving. We can be self-giving like Jesus because by eating his flesh and drinking his blood we become more perfectly the Body of Christ. This is why we can “re¬main” in Jesus—we are transformed by what we eat. Our relationship to Jesus, then, becomes a relationship of indwelling, of divine Life. This is why Eucharist is a promise of eternal Life: because we already have divine Life within us.

It is easy to choose to take part in the Communion procession at Mass—to take and eat and drink. It is the more difficult choice to live the mystery in which we have participated. This is daily living: to choose to nourish others who are hungry both physically and spiritually, to choose to invite others into deeper relationship with ourselves and the risen Christ, to choose to take time to savor the mystery with which God in Christ has blessed us. In this kind of daily living we answer for ourselves and for others the central question of this gospel: Who is “this man”?

 
Adapted from PrayerTime: Faith-Sharing Reflections on the Sunday Gospels available at the RENEW International.
 
 

Have you ever received this text on your smartphone: “POS”? Probably not! Not unless you are a teen! Sometimes young people murmur against their parents when they block something the youth want to do. This text:”Parents over shoulder”, warns their friend to be careful of what they text. Parents have the wisdom of experience; they know the consequences of certain actions; “they have been there, done that”. Youth, on the other hand make judgments out of limited knowledge and a need to act on their own. Parents push young people to open themselves to deeper knowledge even though they’ve not yet had experience. In our Gospel today, Jesus pushes his hearers to go beyond their knowledge of him to a deeper experience of him.

The Jews in the gospel have heard Jesus speak about himself as “the bread of life” but they cannot get beyond their limited knowledge of Jesus as the son of Joseph. For them, Jesus cannot be the living bread comer down from heaven. He commands them to stop their murmuring and open themselves to new knowledge and understanding about who he is.

It is not an easy task to be faithful disciples, to live the gospel message. It is an ever more difficult task for ourselves to teach as Jesus did. If we are to be true to our call to discipleship, we need Jesus’ words of life to bring us hope and strength.

Our challenge is not to get discouraged, but to hand ourselves over to the nourishment of word and sacrament that God offers us on our journey. That means we open ourselves to the mystery of who Jesus is as the Bread of Life.

Adapted from PrayerTime: Faith-Sharing Reflections on the Sunday Gospels available at the RENEW International.

Come Away and Rest Awhile – 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time

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.

Adapted from PrayerTime: Faith-Sharing Reflections on the Sunday Gospels available at the RENEW International.

A subpoena summons us to court. A principal summons a student to the office. Parents summon a wayward child to a family conference. Summons such as these do not admit of being ignored, carry grave importance, and tend to put us on edge. Their urgency is already the message: something’s up. What was up when Jesus summoned the Twelve in this gospel passage?

What was up was the salvation of the world. What was up was the call to repentance. What was up was the healing of humanity. Nothing—neither life necessities nor rejection—can keep us from faithfully hearing and responding to Jesus’ summons to preach repentance. The summons is urgent because the mission is urgent.

This gospel poses two challenges for us: first, that we hear Jesus’ summons; second, that we grasp its urgency. We hear Jesus’ summons through his word in the gospels, the cry of those in need, the desire of those wishing to grow in their faith. We grasp the urgency of the summons when we respond without counting personal cost, actively seek ways to preach repentance, consistently shape our everyday living in accord with the demands of the Gospel. What is at stake is the salvation of the world. The summons is urgent because the mission is urgent.

Adapted from PrayerTime: Faith-Sharing Reflections on the Sunday Gospels, available at the RENEW International store

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.

Adapted from PrayerTime: Faith-Sharing Reflections on the Sunday Gospels available at the RENEW International

Two people cry out in the gospel narrative: the president of the synagogue, Jairus, whose daughter is dying, and the woman who has suffered heavy bleeding for 12 years. Both have to cross boundaries to make their request. The president fell at his feet, recognizing Jesus’ authority, which given previous encounters with Jewish leadership must have been a tough decision. The woman has to break the double taboo of addressing a man in public and risking the contamination of Jesus because of her condition, which was seen as sinful under Jewish religious law. But only the crossing of boundaries empowers Jesus to heal.

A feature of Mark’s story of Jesus is the presence of the crowd, always pressing, always threatening interruption. In the middle of it all, Jesus attends to the woman, and only then proceeds to the home of Jairus. Symbolism is rife in these verses. “Sleep” is a euphemism for lack of faith (Mark 13:36). “Twelve” signifies the number of Israel’s tribes.

In the end this is a story about healing, but not just of individuals. Jesus interrupts his journey to the home of the privileged to heal one of the outcasts who emerges from the crowd. As Ched Myers reminds us, “Only when the outcast is restored to true ‘daughterhood’ can the daughter of the synagogue be restored to life.” Today we might say that only when the marginalized have been restored to their rightful place in humanity can the affluent world discover its true vocation.

Where does the story of these two women touch your story? Have you experienced being broken or marginalized? Who around you is like this? How can your church or community bring healing?

When the time arrived for Elizabeth to have her child she gave birth to a son. Her neighbors and relatives heard that the Lord had shown his great mercy toward her,and they rejoiced with her. When they came on the eighth day to circumcise the child, they were going to call him Zechariah after his father, but his mother said in reply, ‘No. He will be called John.’ But they answered her, ‘There is no one among your relatives who has this name.’ So they made signs, asking his father what he wished him to be called. He asked for a tablet and wrote, ‘John is his name,’ and all were amazed. Immediately his mouth was opened, his tongue freed, and he spoke blessing God. Then fear came upon all their neighbors, and all these matters were discussed throughout the hill country of Judea. All who heard these things took them to heart, saying, ‘What, then, will this child be?’ For surely the hand of the Lord was with him. The child grew and became strong in spirit, and he was in the desert until the day of his manifestation to Israel” (Luke 1:57-66, 80).

The adults around John the Baptist had reasons to wonder what this baby would do with his life. One reason was that the birth of John was foretold to his father, Zachariah, by the archangel Gabriel (Luke 1:13). Another reason was that John’s mother, Elizabeth, was childless and well beyond the age for childbirth. Still another reason was that, as today’s Gospel reading recalls, Gabriel had taken away Zachariah’s ability to speak after Zachariah refused to believe the angel (Luke 1:20) and restored it only after Zachariah gave the unborn child the name the angel had prescribed. No wonder people asked, “What, then, will this child become?”

The only person who could answer that question, in the fullness of time, was John himself. Certainly, when he “grew and became strong in spirit,” John discerned God’s will. John understood that God wanted him to call on people to re-form their lives, to live with each other in a relationship of social and economic justice, and to prepare for the immanent coming of the messiah, the judge and savior of the world.

This was not a simple vocation. By deciding to undertake it, John was deciding to forgo any occupation that might have provided him with common food, clothing, and housing. He was deciding to forgo any chance at status and privilege. Moreover, he was deciding to confront people who were comfortable in their positions of wealth and power, people who were not accustomed to looking honestly at their lives and their relationships. He was deciding to make himself the target of what turned out to be a lethal antagonism. This was the future John accepted when he accepted the will of God.

How have you responded when you have felt God calling you to do something that might disrupt the usual order of your life?

Adapted from PrayerTime: Faith-Sharing Reflections on the Sunday Gospels, available at the RENEW International store

He said, ‘To what shall we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable can we use for it? It is like a mustard seed that, when it is sown in the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on the earth. But once it is sown, it springs up and becomes the largest of plants and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the sky can dwell in its shade.’ With many such parables he spoke the word to them as they were able to understand it” (Mark 4:30-33).

What a sense of hope this image of the growing seed must have given to those who followed Jesus and those who first read Mark’s Gospel. The first believers suffered tremendously for their faith. To understand that the kingdom of God starts as something no bigger than a mustard seed but grows into something large and sturdy must have been encouraging. This parable gave those early disciples strength, patience, persistence, and hope.

Today, the world is troubled by war and the threat of war, by greed, injustice, and poverty. It is just as urgent for us to hear this Gospel as it was for Mark’s contemporaries. The growth of a seed is slow and imperceptible. All we can do is work to provide the right environment for that seed and trust that if we do our part the seed will grow.

Just as the early Church could not know the effect its faith would have on the world, we cannot know how our faith will contribute to building up the reign of God on earth. Our job is to help God’s reign spread by cultivating the soil of our lives and living the word of God.

What are the ways in which you keep the soil of your life cultivated so that it fosters the word of God? Are there things that you could do differently?

Adapted from PrayerTime: Faith-Sharing Reflections on the Sunday Gospels available at the RENEW International store