Twenty-Fourth Sunday In Ordinary Time As Catholics, we belong to a liturgical church. One aspect of this is the observation of the Church Year—a fixed, three-year (Sunday) calendar. In other words, we follow the Lectionary. We do not freely choose the readings, but rather, subject ourselves to the discipline of a Lectionary that proclaims the same message to all members. This is part of being a universal Church. That being said, on 9/11 in this Year of Mercy, today’s celebration just happens to proclaim stories of God’s mercy in each of the readings, as well as the responsorial Psalm 51. It is the great penitential psalm known as the Miserere. This fifteenth anniversary of the 9/11 tragedy becomes even more significant in the light of subsequent terrorism in our country. Today’s second reading from Saint Paul to Timothy expresses the evangelist’s gratitude to Christ for being treated with mercy and patience. The Gospel’s parable of the prodigal son completes the mercy and forgiveness circle. If God is so compassionate and loving with us, then as faithful followers of Jesus we must risk being so compassionate and loving with others. First of all, this means that we don’t judge whether the other is worth our mercy and love. God shows us that all are—even outcasts and sinners. Second, we ourselves don’t earn mercy and love. Since they are free gifts of God to us, they are gifts we freely give to others. We don’t wait until someone wrongs us to show mercy and love—we offer these gifts simply because the other is a beloved of God. It’s much easier for us to be merciful and loving when the end situation is better for us. For example, we might forgive a family member some wrongdoing because we want peace in the family. It is far more risky to be merciful when there is no immediate gain for us in sight. As those who follow Jesus, we are called to be merciful simply because this is the way Jesus was. Living the paschal mystery means that we feast well and often because we realize that God unfailingly extends mercy and love without calculating whether we deserve it or not. All we need to do is repent. All we need to do is be willing to be found.
The Narrow Gate At first reading, this Gospel passage is missing some of the hopeful words we read elsewhere about God’s love for us and all of creation spending eternity in the Kingdom. In this Gospel we read that the door is narrow, that not many people will get through it, and once it’s shut, there’s no opening it again. One way that scholars interpret this passage is that it was geared for the religious leaders of Jesus’ time. They were fairly confident that they were among God’s chosen people and just because of who they were, they were automatically entitled to enter the Kingdom of God. Jesus came to be sure all people had a chance to enter the door of heaven. Many other people, according to Jesus, would enter before the arrogant leaders. We all claim to know Jesus; after all, we are for the most part faithful churchgoers who weekly eat and drink in his company. This gospel warns us that this isn’t enough. There is an urgency about our paschal mystery living; we don’t have forever to make up our minds to respond to God’s offer of salvation. Each day we must take up our own cross, die to self, and live for the sake of others. This is how we enter through the narrow gate and how we get to know Jesus intimately enough to receive salvation: we must live and act like Jesus. Becoming least is a metaphor for dying to self; this is what Jesus asks: that the first become the last. What limits the scope of salvation is not God’s reach but our weak response. We must beg God for the strength to respond fully. Our strength comes from God.
No Compromising As Jesus announced his mission, he made it clear that there would be no compromising. Called to repentance and challenged to be ready, discipleship would most likely divide households and communities. He knew already that there were divisions among the Jewish leaders. He warned his followers that they, too, might face divisions among their own families. While these repercussions would cause pain, it would also mark the coming of God’s Kingdom. This is a bad news, good news gospel. The bad news is that Jesus’ coming throws the world headlong into fire, anguish, division. The good news is that, in spite of Jesus speaking to the contrary, he does grant peace—to his disciples after his resurrection. His gift of peace, however, does not eliminate the fire, anguish, and division. These painful consequences of faithful living sharpen the choice each of us must make: to be “baptized” with Jesus into his suffering and death. Bad news. Good news. We live with both. We make our life choice in face of both. [Living Liturgy 2013] None of us chooses to live our discipleship for its shock value! We are, however, always faced with such consequential choices. We are hardly called like Jeremiah to announce to the Israelites that their beloved Jerusalem will fall into the hands of the Babylonians—nor are we thrown into a cistern to die! Nor like Jesus will we be nailed to a cross because of our preaching. Nevertheless, we are called to be faithful to God’s word in the small, everyday things as well as at times when the more serious challenges come along. We do not seek division, but we do seek consistency in living Gospel values. We do not seek anguish, but we do suffer with Christ when it comes. The closer we come to Christ, the hotter the fire becomes! The very way we live our lives is Gospel fire. Sometimes strife and division are a sign of our faithful commitment. Gospel living is not always easy! The real shock is that we choose it and are faithful.
Be Vigilant Jesus told the disciples not to be afraid, but rather to get sturdy purses to hold all they will receive from God. If they served God, their reward would be great—but it would not be the reward of worldly wealth. In the second part of the Gospel, Jesus preached the message of watchfulness and being ready for his return. In a servant explanation of his point, Jesus told them that God would be so happy to see them at the banquet that God would put on an apron and cook a meal for them. This is similar to the message Jesus gave the disciples at the Last Supper when he washed their feet in service. When the third millennium arrived, many people worried that the world would end. We all read accounts of predictions citing signs and scripture. Mostly the mood was one of fear and anxiety. Today’s Gospel assures us that we have nothing to fear. Our only responsibility is to be ready for Jesus’ return. We also hear that we have been entrusted with this Good News. So now what do we do with it? Most likely we know we are basically good people, good parents, and good disciples. But is there something more we can do, or does some part of our responsibility need attention? During these summer days, we might quietly reflect on how we view the end times and check our readiness. How are we doing with the Good News we’ve been given? The final line of this gospel is most demanding and directly applicable to our daily paschal mystery living: “Much will be required of the person entrusted with much, and still more will be demanded of the person entrusted with more.” We’ve been entrusted with much: furthering Jesus’ mission of bringing the Good News of salvation to all as his disciples. We have been entrusted with even more: we are not simply servants, but because of our baptism and being plunged into the paschal mystery we become members of the Body of Christ. We followers of Jesus are most vigilant for the master, that is, Jesus himself, when we are being who the Master is because his Life has been given to us. We are to be the presence of the Master himself, continuing his gracious ministry on behalf of others. Our faithfulness is measured by even more than doing God’s will; it is measured by our being the presence of the risen Christ for all those we meet. Any doing must flow from our being. Only then do we truly continue Jesus’ ministry. The real surprise of the gospel is that we ourselves, in our daily paschal mystery living of dying to ourselves for the sake of others, become more perfectly that presence of the very Master for whom we are vigilant. In a sense our vigilance is less about looking for Someone and more about being Someone. Our vigilance is for our own faithfulness. If we are preoccupied by possessions, schedules, work, sports, entertainment, and so forth, our hearts are already filled with exhaustible, insecure, and corruptible matters. The challenge of this gospel is to redirect our hearts to what is our true treasure, Jesus, and then be faithful disciples. The gift is great. Our Treasure is Jesus
Fullness Of Life Linus is the Peanuts character who is always drawn holding a blanket to his head and sucking his thumb. Linus is a beloved character who reminds us that we all need a hug, a security blanket once in a while. Borrowing his name and image, Project Linus is a national organization that provides free security blankets for critically ill or traumatized children. Some of the blankets donated are larger, intended for older children. Pain, fear, and insecurity know no age limits. Whenever we face any life-threatening occasion, we naturally reach out for whatever relieves us, whatever wraps us in hugs, love, security. We can readily identify, then, with the rich man in the gospel who has a “bountiful harvest” and doesn’t want to waste a single grain. Although he is rich and probably already has plenty, he portrays what each of us harbors in the depth of our hearts: we can never have enough. We always want to increase whatever we think gives us security in face of life’s inevitable exigencies. How mistaken we are! The rich man in the gospel thinks building bigger barns to hold a boon of “grain and other goods” will give him enough security that he can “rest, eat, drink, be merry.” When his life is “demanded” of him, however, his store of “grain and other goods” proves not to be the ultimate security—an eternal inheritance. He is misguided about the bigger barn he really needs to build. In the end, what “matters to God” is a “barn” full of what only God can give: life, love, holiness, fidelity, generosity, compassion, Life. No barn can ever be big enough to hold these. No barn we build can hold the security that is God alone. The only security we truly possess is a loving relationship with God—and this is surely what matters most to God. It should matter most to us. Even with all our Christian living and reflection, we still struggle with what God graciously offers us—not more possessions, but fullness of Life. The gospel challenges us to direct all of our work toward a quality of life based on growing in our relationship with God and each other. Even our possessions and how we use them have this end—to bring us into right relationship with God and each other so that ultimately we possess what really counts: God’s eternal Life. God offers us what matters most—fullness of Life and the secure happiness that only God can give. God alone is our sure security blanket. [Living Liturgy 2013] This parable reminds us how fleeting are the things of this world and how easy it is to have a false sense of security in ourselves and our possessions. In both this world and the next, our ultimate security can be found only in God. What do we need to clean out of our “barn” to make more room for God? Perhaps we need to stop asking Jesus to correct the behavior of someone else (“tell my brother”) and start letting him transform our values and behavior. Perhaps we need to take inventory of our possessions, attitudes, relationships in order to make more room for “what matters to God.” The more room in our “barn” for the things of God, the more secure we become in God alone, the more surely we secure our eternal inheritance—eternal Life.
Teach Us To Pray In an early church writing called the Didache (The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles; probably second century), we have the first “commandment” about prayer: to pray the Our Father “as the Lord bid us in his gospel . . . pray in this way three times a day” (8:2, 3). The Didache doesn’t say when the three times a day are to be, but presumably at traditional prayer times: upon rising, at midday, upon retiring. This prayer has been in the hearts of Christians since the early disciples asked Jesus to teach them to pray. He gave them words. But he also gave them much more. Jesus, in this gospel, gives us a way to address God (as “Father”), how we ought to pray (with perseverance), and why we pray (because God gives us all “good gifts”). Jesus teaches us that prayer is and must be from oneself, very personal. Prayer is a gift of self. Jesus’ disciples want him to teach them to pray “just as John taught his disciples.” Jesus couldn’t teach them the prayer of John, however, because he was not John. He was himself, and would teach a prayer that is the very gift of himself to us. Jesus’ prayer to his Father flows from who he is—the One who praises, intercedes, forgives, reconciles, and protects. In this he gives us a pattern for our prayer, even if we do not use these very words. Our prayer flows from our physical needs, our emotional attachments and relationships, our spiritual desires. In the end, however, Jesus’ prayer is for his Father to “give the Holy Spirit.” Then, no request is too great, no seeking is unrewarded, no door is locked. The Holy Spirit transforms our prayer— and us—into turning ourselves toward God, into allowing the prayer to change us into those who seek only what God desires for us. This gospel challenges us to go beyond specific needs and get to the larger picture: a focus on the gifts God offers us always in prayer, and often in surprising and unexpected ways. What inspires confidence in us is not whether God gives us what we specifically ask for in prayer; our confidence comes from the Spirit who dwells within and establishes a most intimate relationship between God and us—shared Life. Unlike small children who seem to have a capacity to stay endlessly with some tasks, most of us need to develop a habit of daily prayer. With such busy schedules, this can be difficult. Choosing a specific time and being persistent about honoring that time for prayer helps.
Need Of One Thing Only Attentiveness can be challenging sometimes. As an older sister trying to finish a term paper my little sister kept pestering me to play. Or I am out to dinner with friends are to catch up on news and one keeps answering her cell phone. The dog keeps barking to be let out while my brother-in-law is playing spelautomater dream jackpot games online. To be attentive—especially to be attentive to another person—means that we focus, that we eliminate distractions, that we allow one thing to command our full attention. This Sunday’s Gospel is about attentiveness. Martha is attentive about getting food prepared and serving; Mary is attentive about listening to her Guest. Both are doing good things. However, one is choosing the “better part.” Jesus tells Martha in this gospel that there “is need of only one thing.” What is it? On the surface, the answer would seem to be “listening to him speak,” as Mary is doing. Even this is not enough, however. We must also heed how Jesus judges Martha: “you are anxious and worried about many things.” The “one thing” is to be single-minded, single-hearted, open-minded, open-hearted. The “one thing” is to surrender ourselves to Jesus’ Presence, whether sitting or standing, resting or working, receiving or giving. [Living Liturgy 2013] The gospel is about hosts and guest and hospitality, but Jesus puts an unparalleled twist on the notion of hospitality. Martha’s “hospitality” was made edgy because of her becoming burdened with the cooking and serving and only focusing on that, losing sight of Jesus. Martha settles for being only a servant (and complaining about it at that!) while Jesus is looking for disciples. Mary’s hospitality was more gracious than Martha’s because she focused her attention on Jesus: “sat beside the Lord at his feet listening to him.” The surprise is that Jesus affirms that the “better part” is to be attentive to his Presence. The “better part” is to be a disciple, attuned to the Master! There are many ways that Jesus is present to us if we take the time to be attentive to his Presence. We usually address living the paschal mystery in terms of how we die to ourselves in our everyday living. This gospel suggests a radically different—and complementary—way of living the paschal mystery:being attentive to Jesus’ abiding Presence!
Who Is My Neighbor? Many countries and US states have Good Samaritan laws. These laws protect from legal prosecution for wrongdoing anyone who helps or tends to someone who is ill or injured. In a litigation-prone society, these laws are a necessary complement to the charity with which many of us naturally respond when we encounter another in distress. In a sense, these laws protect charity, protect our acting with compassion, mercy, and love toward those in need. These laws take their name from this Sunday’s gospel. This gospel not only expands the notion of neighbor, but also describes how, ultimately, we are to love as God loves us. Neighbor is not simply a victim, someone in need. Neighbor is anyone who deserves our love. And that is everyone! The generosity of the Good Samaritan goes way beyond expected neighborliness and simple human compassion. He personally cares for the victim: tending to his wounds, carrying him non his own animal, caring for him at the inn. Yet even this is not enough: he leaves money for his continued care. By this parable Jesus teaches that to inherit “eternal life” we must go beyond who we love and how we love them. We must love as God loves: personally, extravagantly, continually. Jesus’ commandment of love is not impossibly far beyond us because his own life manifests here and now how to live loving relationships with others. Jesus teaches us how far we must go in loving others. Love has no limits, as Jesus himself illustrated by his own life. He loved even to dying for us. Our own loving one another must go this far, too. This kind of boundless love redefines who our neighbor is (everyone) and sets no limits on our time or care for others. Further, we show our love for God “with all [our] heart[s]” precisely when we love our neighbor. [Living Liturgy 2013] Ironically, the way we inherit eternal Life is by dying to self for the sake of another. The Samaritan in the parable isn’t moved to help the stricken traveler because of a commandment, but because he was a person of loving compassion and mercy—he illustrates unbounded love. This is the law written within our hearts (see first reading)—not details about keeping specific commandments, but a positive regard for the other that arises out of genuine love. Our love must be as wide as our universe and embrace all of God’s beloved. Only by loving in this way can we truly be neighbor. Only by loving in this way can we, like God, be defined as love. Jesus’ view of neighbor is someone in need—a person who needs help, a person who needs my help. In our global society, who is not my neighbor? In our global society, how can any of us not be neighbor—loving personally, extravagantly, continually? This is how God loves us. “Go and do likewise.” Probably in our society and church today we need to become more aware of the value of keeping laws. Our reflection, however, alerts us to the fact that simply keeping laws and commandments isn’t enough. All our actions must be directed to the good of others. Keeping laws promotes good order in any community; doing good for others promotes right relationships in those same communities. Love is the glue that binds us to each other, that helps us make sense out of just laws, that expands our notion of neighbor to include everyone. Love is of God. It must be of us. Law is something external to us, rather easily measured. Mercy and compassion, love and care are internal to us and can be measured only in terms of the good we actually do for others. Laws are internalized—written in our hearts—when they are kept for the sake of others. We are to do as the Good Samaritan in the parable: let the law of love and compassion guide us and gain for us eternal Life.
The Kingdom of God Is At Hand I have a really good spiritual director, who quietly takes in my words, body language, eye movement and then responds appropriately. She reads people and situations quickly and accurately. Being in a conversation with those who are glancing at their cell phone every other second sends an important message to us: they are not giving full attention to the conversation and the phone is more important than the conversation. Even worse, the phone is more important than we are. This situation usually draws a rather negative response from me. I might roll my eyes, stop the conversation, or even walk away from the phone bound person. Interactions and responses are part of our everyday living. Often they are inconsequential enough. Sometimes, however, interaction and response have long lasting consequences. This Sunday’s gospel is about Jesus’ disciples reading people and responses. The interaction-response has long-lasting and life-changing consequences. When Jesus sends disciples forth as “laborers for his harvest,” he predicts two responses to their presence. Either disciples will be welcomed and will be able to minister fruitfully, or they will be rejected and their ministry becomes judgment against the unwelcoming town. In either case, however, the “kingdom of God is at hand.” In either case, the acceptance or rejection of the disciples makes clear that the “kingdom of God” is not dependent upon any one response, but upon God’s gracious gift of Presence. How so? Whether accepted or rejected, disciples “harvest” the “kingdom of God” by their very presence, by their very proclamation of Jesus’ name, by their very fidelity to Jesus’ mission. [Living p; Liturgy 2013] No wonder disciples rejoice! Their rejoicing is an acknowledgment that God is present and working through them. The “kingdom of God” is present in the very persons of those who take up Jesus’ invitation to be laborers in bringing about an abundant harvest. The abundance of the harvest is guaranteed in two ways. If Jesus’ disciples are not welcomed, they are not to quit the journey but continue it. Part of the ministry of laborer-disciples is the very “going”—the disciples’ faithfulness to Jesus’ sending them forth to proclaim that the “kingdom of God is at hand.”While response to Gospel proclamation is obviously important, there can be no response at all unless disciples go forth on the journey, proclaim the Gospel faithfully, and rely on God’s gift of divine Presence through them. We must respond to God’s gift of Presence to us before we can call forth response from others. This divine Presence is the source of disciples’ rejoicing. The establishment of God’s reign is already an in-breaking of the final glory that will be ours—our “names are [already] written in heaven.” References to the abundance of the end times are captured in the “harvest” metaphor Jesus uses. Jesus looks at the harvest and sees abundance, fulfillment. Some of this abundance and fulfillment is surely realized in our own taking up of Jesus’ mission to bring peace, to heal, and to dispel evil. The challenge of the gospel is that we don’t get so lost in doing Jesus’ mission that we forget being faithful disciples is in itself already an in-breaking of God’s kingdom. Living the paschal mystery means that we let go of even the responses others might give to our Gospel living and surrender ourselves to be laborers for the harvest of peace and Presence.
Cost of Discipleship Poker self control. Self control is something that we all like to think we have mastered, when in actuality our self-discipline in most situations is poor. We all spend that extra 15 minutes in bed in the morning when we need to get up. We all order that take-away on Friday night when we told ourselves that we wouldn’t. We all spend far too long watching TV when we know that we need to tidy the flat. A lack of self control in most cases is pretty harmless. We all could do that little bit extra in our everyday lives to get more stuff done, but at least a lack of discipline isn’t going to cost us any money. In poker however, it can and it most certainly will. DominoQQ have the best online poker tables around. The ultimate test of self control in poker. You’ve made it to the river with your Q J on a board of J 7 6 4 3. You’re first to act, so you check. Your opponent then makes a bet 2/3 the size of the damn pot. What are you going to do? Are you going to call even though you are confident that you have the worst hand? Or are you going to fold and live with the fact that there is an outside chance that you could have had the best hand? It’s not a fun decision is it? However, emotions and fun aside, we both know what the right play is here. The question is though, are you the sort of person that will regularly call in spots like these even though you know it’s almost definitely not the right action? (Don’t worry, you can tell me the truth. I can’t hear you so I’m not going to tell anyone.) The reason behind lack of self control in poker. Why do you call that last bet on the river when you almost know for a fact that you have the losing hand? Because you don’t have enough confidence in your judgment as a poker player. You need to satisfy that lust for answers and complete information.
She Has Shown Great Love How many tears would need to be shed in order to have enough to wash feet? A bucketful! What would precipitate such an overflowing amount of tears? Extraordinary loss, sadness, sorrow. In the case of the “sinful woman” in this Sunday’s gospel, her tears were precipitated by her great sense of unworthiness and her profound repentance. All the woman’s gestures toward Jesus were very personal: weeping, wiping his feet with her hair, kissing his feet. Her gestures of touching him were ones of connectedness, of closing the distance between alienation and communion, of desiring a new relationship with someone who heals. Think about it…Lavish love…Big love…Extravagant love…Love fueled by the flames of an authentic and humble faith…Love emptied out for the sake of the beloved. What does it take for us today to know, to experience, and to practice such big love? How can we be equipped and moved to pour ourselves out for the sake of the gospel, for Jesus who loves us with a love bigger than life itself? Can we feel and experience the forgiveness, the mercy, and the acceptance that fuels such big love? [Living Liturgy 2013] If we are wrapped up in our own needs, it is impossible to see the needs of others. One way to live this gospel is to practice every day reaching out to another with a simple gesture of kindness or hospitality. This can be so simple as saying hello to someone we pass in a hallway, smiling at someone who seems depressed, or lending a helping hand to someone who seems burdened. What happens in our reaching out to others is that distances in relationships are closed, we discover in others unforeseen goodness and worth, and both they and we are transformed by this self-giving way of relating.
The Compassionate One One of the most distinguishing characteristics of Jesus is that he paid attention. He paid attention to people and their behaviors so closely he often knew what they were thinking or feeling. He paid attention to what was going on around him so much that he could talk knowledgeably about farming practices, fishing, politics, even taxes. He paid attention to the sick, the dying, the marginalized so carefully that he was able to reach them in ways no one else could. In today’s Gospel, Jesus encounters a widow who lost her son. Many details reveal the power and depth of Jesus’ words and deeds. Jesus has power over life and death; he clearly chooses life for this widow. Her life was not to wane upon losing her “only son.” His death became the occasion for Jesus to take the initiative in proclaiming God’s desire that we share life to the fullest. The cadence and rhythm of his words and deeds move us toward the celebration of life and hope.[Living Liturgy, 2013] The widow of Nain had lost everything dear to her: her husband and her only son. By losing her husband, she had lost her life support; at that time most women were totally dependent upon their husbands for livelihood. She had a son, and he no doubt supported her after his father’s death. Then he dies and any hope of posterity ceases. She is utterly alone; she is now the last in her ancestral line. The widow and a “large crowd from the city” were processing to bury her son. Without even being asked, Jesus with great compassion comforts her, touches the son’s coffin, raises her son from the dead, and gives him back to his mother. By word and deed Jesus restores the widow’s life and hope. She is no longer alone in this world without support and hope of posterity. In Jesus “God has visited his people.” He brings gifts that are only God’s to give: life and hope. No wonder news of Jesus’ words and deeds spread rapidly! In him something new is happening. Death is not an end, but a sign of God’s power and saving grace. In Jesus God continues to visit us, offering hope and life, even without our asking. Do we accept? God visits us in Jesus with new life and hope, for example, when the pain of a child’s death is eased through prayer and faith in God’s promise of eternal Life, and the support of family and friends; when an addict successfully enters recovery and returns to healthy family relationships; when painful illness is mitigated by the joy of laughter. In each of these visitations, Jesus is saying to us, “Do not weep,” I am here with compassion, healing, love, and Life.
Solemnity of The Holy Trinity What’s your favorite way of talking about the Trinity? Father, Son, and Holy Spirit? Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer? Have you ever tried to explain the Trinity? Or even to understand it? God is one and yet we’ve got these three, what? So what is God? Maybe God is a shape-shifter, one minute holy parent, another holy child, another holy spirit. “God in three persons.” Talking about the Trinity is not easy! The greatest mystery of this feast is not how God can be Three-in-One, but why does this God choose to be intimately present to us. Perhaps the mystery is that the triune community of the Trinity wishes to dwell within the community of humanity! Living and dying the Paschal Mystery means that we are faithful witnesses to the God within. So what do we have to be for one another? The love of God poured out, the truth that guides. This is the glory of God revealed within and among us.
The Ascension Salvador Dali 1958 Most people know what it means to make a down payment – whether on a car or house. It’s a promissory payment suggesting that a purchaser intends to fulfill their obligation to pay off the debt incurred. The promised benefits may not be worth the price. Indeed, forces of temptation may be present that draw us into unwise investments. When it comes to the down payment that God makes with us, we can be assured, based on our understanding of God’s character, that God is able and willing to fulfill the promise made to us. In this case the Holy Spirit is God’s down payment on the promised inheritance, which is our ultimate destiny of sharing fully in the glory of God. The down payment that God makes with us is lifted up in the story of Jesus’ ascension into the heavens, where he shares the fullness of God’s glory, while we receive the Holy Spirit as the down payment of our ultimate destiny – sharing together with Jesus in that glorious presence. Jesus’ ascension, for us, is a gift and commissioning. We receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. We preach and teach in his name. We don’t do this on our own, as Jesus promised. We can’t set out to take up Jesus’ mission to preach the Good News until we open ourselves to the Holy Spirit’s Presence with and among us. This ensures us that our work isn’t ours but Christ’s. Ultimately our mission is to preach not simply events but a Person—Jesus Christ, the risen One. Even more: with the Spirit, we are the Presence of the risen Lord. This clothing is unequaled. [Living Liturgy 2013] Being faithful to this Gift is pure choice. We choose to be faithful when we continue the saving work of Jesus by repenting when we have hurt another, by forgiving those who hurt us, by clothing others with dignity and honor, by doing daily tasks joyfully, by acknowledging the Presence of God in the compliment of another. Continuing Jesus’ saving ministry happens in big ways and little ways. Having first experienced God’s saving action, we can be that saving action for others.
This Mothers’ Day Our reflection today is adapted from a prayer by “A Concord Pastor” Mothers will be celebrated by their families this weekend in special ways. There will be flowers and sweets; phone calls from children who live too far away for a visit; cards and gifts; breakfast in bed or brunch or dinner at a nice restaurant. Keep a place in your prayer this day for all the mothers who will rejoice with their families this weekend… Some women will spend this Mothers’ Day in anticipation of the birth of a child they’re carrying – perhaps their first child – a child whose ultrasound image has already won the hearts of mom and dad. Other expectant mothers are making their way through the long process of adoption – or perhaps the arrival of their adopted love is just around the corner! Keep a place in your prayer this Mothers’ Day for those who are expecting the arrival of a child – and pray that both mother and child will be healthy… Some have lost mothers. More difficult than the second Sunday in May are all the times through the year when wonderful things are happening in life and we think, “I wish mom could be here for this!” Open a place in your heart to pray for those who miss the wonderful mother God gave them… Some mothers have and raise children with no spouse to help and support them. Some mothers have chosen this path but others have not. Let’s keep a place in our prayer for those who know the burdens of single-parent mothering and, when able, open ourselves and our homes to offer what company and help might be ours to give… Our hearts go out to women who want very much to be mothers but who, for any number of reasons, are unable to bear a child… We know this day can be difficult for them, even as they celebrate their own mothers with love and devotion. Let’s keep a place in our prayer for women who long for a child with all their heart and soul.. Some children have mothers who failed to care for them. Their sons and daughters understand deeply the lyrics of that old song, “Sometimes I feel like a motherless child.” And some mothers will be burdened today with memories of how they missed the signs of harm being done to their own by others. Let’s keep a place of prayer in our hearts for those whose hearts are heavy today… Some mothers today will be forgotten by their children: no visit, no card, no call, no candy or flowers. Some mothers this day don’t know where a son or daughter has gone or what has become of them. A mother’s heart aches on this day for the child of her womb who has forgotten her or who has disappeared. Pray with me on this Mother’s Day for women who wait for a call that will not come… Many mothers will remember today a child they’ve lost to sickness, an accident, war or other violence, miscarriage or abortion. A parent’s grief for a child can be unfathomable – and a mother’s grief is deeper than any. We Christians prayer and believe that one day we shall see those who have gone before us and enjoy their love again. Keep a place in your heart for mothers who need the consolation of such faith and pray they’ll trust that the Lord will indeed keep his word… Some mothers today will not know or recognize their children when they come to visit. Time has robbed them of their memory of even those they love the most. Keep a place in your prayer today for mothers who may know their children in their heart of hearts but are unable to remember or speak their names. And pray for those sons and daughters who tell their mothers of their love, hoping that a mother’s heart will hear what her mind no longer holds… For all we pray…………………….
Keep My Word My mother told me the first word I uttered was WHY. I suspect that really was an exaggeration. However, I do remember that WHY was a word I used most often. And I remember my mother saying , “Because I said so”. This has never been a very satisfactory answer for a child; we can imagine a teenager rolling the eyes in response. This answer doesn’t give any explanation for doing what is asked, but simply states a chain of command, a line of authority. In today’s gospel Jesus’ desire that we keep his words functions something like a “Because I said so.” Extraordinary gifts are given to us if we keep his words. His words rest on the authority of himself, his Father, and the Holy Spirit. This is about as high that a chain of command, a line of authority can get. It all rests on “If you love[ ] me.” [Living Liturgy 2013] To enable us to keep his word, Jesus promises us the gift of the Holy Spirit—through whom we are re-created as persons able to live and love as Jesus himself did. We are a new creation empowered to continue the mission of Jesus in peace and with fearlessness. To be created anew means that we share in the Life of the risen Lord—in a very real way, we share in Jesus’ very identity. Indeed, this is the gift of baptism: that we are made members of the Body of Christ. Only because we share in Jesus’ identity as members of his Body can we love as he does, truly keep his word, and carry on his saving mission. The word of Jesus we are to keep is his command to love as he loves us. Jesus’ word, however, is not simply spoken—“Because I said so”—but is love-in-action. Our love-in-action flows from the gift of the Holy Spirit dwelling in us and teaching us to keep Jesus’ word-command to love. Our love-in-action is risen Life-made-visible. Jesus’ “Because I said so” is so much more than simply words. We are able to fulfill Jesus’ word-command to love as he loves because the Holy Spirit dwelling within prompts us to total self-giving. The Holy Spirit prompts us, for example, to embrace the sick and the suffering, to be present to those in need, to ease the troubled heart, to bring peace in the midst of anxiety, to rejoice at the success of others, to believe in the goodness of others. As Jesus loves, so are we to love. Totally. This is what discipleship demands.
My Sheep Hear My Voice If you look up today’s Gospel on Google, you get 1.9 million hits. If you put the text in quotes (“my sheep hear my voice”) you still get 1.5 million hits. That’s 1,500,000 web pages that address this text in some way. Plus at least one hit for shopping. Lots of those pages spend pixels focusing on the sheep part, and discussing that, yes, sheep actually do learn their shepherd’s voice, and yes, those same sheep only follow when they hear that voice. One page even noted that a recording of the shepherd’s voice works just as well. I’m taking a different tack on the subject. What I want to know is: what does this mean for us today? Jesus isn’t in the next room —and I think it’s safe to say that our physical ears are not going to hear his physical voice any time soon. So, forget the sheep — as a Christ-follower, what does it mean to “hear his voice”? I’ve got two answers — or really, two sides of the same answer. First of all, I think it means that, over time, our hearts and minds become attuned to the sound of the eternal. The values, the truths, of the Kingdom actually resonate with us, or even within us. We are able to discern the godly within the everyday. Better put, the eternal in us responds. We hear Jesus’s voice. By the same token, I think we also come to recognize when something goes against God’s way, when something is out of kilter with the Kingdom and its values. We are able to know, or even to feel, that something isn’t right, even if we cannot always articulate it. We resist following it, just as the sheep resist following someone or something who isn’t the Shepherd. If we spend time both IN the word and WITH the Word, is it unreasonable to expect that eventually we would develop a sense around what the Word means, and be able to hear the Word in others’ words? [Living Liturgy 2013] The world around us is full of words, full of messages. Let’s learn to hear the eternal, and to resonate with it when we do.
Breakfast Served! When I diet I figure that a good way to cut calories and lose weight is to begin early in the morning and skip breakfast and follow a diet from these fat flusher diet reviews. However, everything I read tells me that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Breakfast gives me the personal jolt I need to get myself going with work or whatever; a balanced, nutritious breakfast also jolts the metabolism and gives off energy. After the resurrection, the disciples need a jolt. They cannot return to their former way of living. They have encountered Jesus during his earthly ministry. Now they encounter the risen Christ and are invited to share in his ongoing ministry. This Sunday’s gospel is one in which the word “breakfast” occurs . It is early in the morning—“already dawn.” The right time for breakfast with all its advantages. The disciples have been out fishing and, upon returning to shore, Jesus asks them, “have you caught anything to eat?” Their answer was a simple, unqualified “No.” No fish, no breakfast. Not so! Jesus invites them, “Come, have breakfast.” It is as though Jesus knows the disciples need a jolt—they need to be tugged out of their familiar routine and transformed. They need the spiritual nutrition of encounter and belief for them to declare their love and follow with fidelity. [Living Liturgy 2013] This gospel details the transformation made possible by the risen Christ. The Resurrection transforms the way things are. The risen Christ transforms the way we are, enabling us to obey his ongoing invitation, “Follow me.” We are fortified by Jesus’ risen Presence, by his invitation to follow, by his own love for us that transforms our love into faithfulness and fruitfulness. Risen Life fortifies us for the transformation needed on our discipleship journey of seeing-believing. Risen Life is given to us by Christ, but we must also seek it. Risen Life is a gift, but we must also grasp it. How does the risen Lord now call us to transformation? to follow him? The risen Lord stands on the shore of all our activity waiting to reveal to us the depths of what we cannot find on our own, the depths of who we can become. Risen Life is not found by going back to who we used to be and where we were. Risen Life is only found by continuing to follow the risen Lord in new directions, wherever he leads us. Even where we might “not want to go.”
See, Touch, Believe image by He Qi This Easter season is not so easily understood. We know Jesus rose from the dead; we cannot so easily grasp how this has an immediate effect on us. The resurrection is a mystery. Risen Life is different, a new happening, a fresh experience. Most surely, risen Life is of God. It instills Easter joy. Our gospel shows us why the resurrection makes all the difference in the world. When the risen Lord appears to the disciples locked away behind closed doors, fear is dispelled by peace, sin is dispelled by forgiveness, doubt is dispelled by Presence, unbelieving is dispelled by seeing-believing. The Lord comes to the disciples a first time on that first Easter Sunday evening when Thomas is not present. Thomas makes known quite clearly to the other disciples what he needs in order to believe that Jesus is alive. He must encounter, see, touch—put his finger and hand in the wounds that he expects to see on Jesus’ body. A week later, when Thomas is present, Jesus appears to the disciples again, and responds to Thomas’s unbelief. Jesus is not angry with Thomas for not believing; he does not judge him. He simply invites: here, see, touch, and believe. Seeing-believing—for Thomas and for us—is not merely an exercise in intellectual assent, but a practical encounter played out through our acceptance of the risen Life that is offered us. Risen Life is God’s divine Life transforming who and how we are. Resurrection makes all the difference—for us, for all of creation. [Living Liturgy 2013] We live risen Life and hasten its fulfillment when we, like Thomas, see and believe. Seeing is believing. What do we see? People in need. How do we believe? Reach out and touch them with transforming presence. What do we see? Unjust situations. How do we believe? Act to transform systems and relationships. What do we see? Holiness in others who follow Christ. How do we believe? Choose to be transformed with them as the Body of Christ. A musical reflection…
In Christ Alone! When someone whom we love dies, we begin to tell stories about them. The memories of the things they said, the images of the way they looked and acted, flood our minds in the midst of our grief. The stories begin to take shape very soon and they may live on with great vitality. In the beginning, when the grief is still fresh and raw, the stories remain inside of us. It hurts too much to express them aloud. But eventually they are spoken, and in their speaking we begin to find healing. In our Gospel today, we meet meet Mary Magdalene and two of the disciples – Peter and ” the one whom Jesus loved” – as they come to the tomb on their early morning pilgrimage . It is difficult to know exactly what they were thinking, but they must have been deeply shaken by Jesus’ violent death. The stories must have already begun to take shape in their minds and hearts. Perhaps they were still too frightened, and too overwhelmed, to utter these stories aloud, even to one another. After all, it had become dangerous to be associated with this Jesus of Nazareth. But, in the midst of their grief and fear, the memories of who he had been and of what he had done, of the ways in which he had engaged their deepest hopes, must have cascaded over them like a powerful waterfall. [Living Liturgy 2010] Today, rather than trying to understand, let us simply run so that we can enter the mystery and embrace it. As we rejoice in the risen life of Jesus, we are confronted with the cost of the Resurrection – self-emptying for the sake of others. Let us be the Resurrection! Musical Reflection
Your Will Be Done For most of us, Holy Week unfolds like many other weeks: work, school, preparing meals, doing laundry. Palm Sunday begins an unusual week – a week – concentrated in a few days on the ultimate meaning of our lives. We are invited this week to reflect on these questions: Why are we here? What have we been called to do? What are we willing to die for? We have journeyed from Ash Wednesday to this day. This week, we will experience the last hours of the life of Jesus. We must slow down and make choices so that this week does not go by without our taking time to enter into its meaning. In our Gospel today, even in the midst of great suffering, Jesus extends his compassion to others, so total, that he willingly empties himself to the point of death. As we enter this week, let us pray that our self-emptying for the good of others will be so total. We celebrate in the liturgies of this week what we live every day – all the dying to self that characterizes our faithful discipleship. The triumph of this week is in doing our tasks with joy, being kind to those around us [even those cranky folks], meeting setbacks as paths to learning. Then, with Jesus, we can commend ourselves into God’s hands. [Living Liturgy 2010] Musical Reflection
Neither Do I Condemn You Some people like to be center stage. They are natural born entertainers who feed off and thrive on audience responses. Other people, like me, avoid this kind of attention focused on themselves. Might we surmise that the woman in our Gospel today was hardly happy about being center stage? Her life hung in the balance. How would Jesus respond to the challenge of the scribes and Pharisees? Hardly the way anyone anticipated! The scribes and Pharisees wished to make this woman an example of her as a grave sinner deserving of death. Ironically, Jesus makes an example of them as sinners and they turned away from him and went away! Once they were faced with their own sinfulness and the futility of their test, they chose not to remain with the One who would grant them forgiveness and mercy, reconciliation and new life. The woman, however, remained with Jesus. And for this choice, she received forgiveness, mercy, new life. [Living Liturgy 2010] The center of this gospel is not the woman or her sin- it is Jesus. He is the one who draws people to himself, teaches, challenges others about the truth of their lives, forgives, commands not to sin again. This is the same Jesus we encounter during Lent. This is the same Jesus who offers us forgiveness and new life. Jesus did not imprison people by their past actions, but called them to the truth of who they were and the goodness within them. He freed people from the death of their own sinful actions and offered to those who would remain with him new life. The deepest truth about ourselves lies not so much in recognizing our sinfulness as it lies in deepening our relationship with Christ. The closer we become to Christ, the more we recognize our own sinfulness and repent of our ways. Then we hear Christ say to us,” Neither do I condemn you.” Musical Reflection
Surprise Party We humans tend to act out of a contractual frame of mind, that is, we give with expectations of equal return. For example, an expensive gift requires an expensive gift in return; or, if we invite friends to dinner, we expect to be invited back. Forgiveness and mercy, however, must arise from a different frame of mind because they are purely gratuitous. The embrace of a merciful father is undeserved yet fully and freely given. [Living Liturgy 2010] While we may call this parable “The Prodigal Son’, in fact it is about a prodigal father. It is the father who first reaches out and then puts aside all convention and lavishly receives the son back into the family. This is how God acts toward us. This parable reminds us that God offers us much more. If we choose to die to self and return to God, we are greeted with forgiveness and feasting. We are welcomed back and transformed sharing in divine life. Receiving God’s forgiveness and mercy and offering the same to another is how we pass from Wednesday ashes to Easter feasting. Musical Reflection
The Tender Mercy of God The first part of our Gospel leaves a lot of room to fill in the blanks! We don’t know anything about the two tragic events reported in the gospel. Jesus uses these events as teachable moments. These events involve tragic death, and Jesus uses these tragedies to make absolute that unless we repent, we also will die! Then, using the parable of the fig tree, Jesus reveals the patience of God with us, despite our slowness to repent.This is God’s work of mercy; to take what is almost dead and coax it to new life. [Living Liturgy 2010] Standing secure in the graciousness of the new life God offers us does not mean that we don’t need to cooperate with God to cultivate and fertilize our spiritual lives. God waits for us to bear fruit. God waits each and every day of our lives for us to bear fruit. The Good News is; God never gives up on us. All we need to do is respond by dying to self and God brings forth new life in us. Musical Reflection
We Saw His Glory This gospel about the Transfiguration is a familiar one. My temptation is to all too quickly limit its meaning and power. There is more to this event than a glimpse of glory. It tells us of what we can expect along the journey toward glory! At the beginning of Lent, our goal is laid out for us. Jesus went up the mountain to pray and was transformed, that is, changed. Lent is not only the desert but also the mountain we go up to pray to be transformed. Jesus talks about his passing through suffering and death to the glory of risen life. Our salvation is to follow Jesus into his passion and death so that we too, might attain the glory of new life. Our following Jesus is spelled out in the ordinary dyings of our everyday living: reaching out to visit a lonely elderly person, listening to a troubled adolescent, biting our tongue instead of saying sharp words, still having patience when we are pushed too far or simply run out of energy. The utterly amazing thing about embracing these little, everyday dyings is that we ourselves experience some sort of transfiguration. As we learn to say yes to God and others, we grow deeper into our own identity as the chosen ones of God. We become more perfect members of Christ’s Body when we act like Jesus did- when we reach out to others who are in need, when we bring a comforting touch, when we forgive. All these are ways we are faithful on our journey to Jerusalem. Our whole life is a transfiguration, a passing over from our old sinful ways to the ways of light and race offered by God. Musical Reflection
If You Are Children of God Lent is about growing in our relationship with God, which helps us understand ourselves and how we relate to others. Special helps are given to us: the rich Lenten scriptures, the penitential practices we embrace, the extra payer opportunities. Lent is a rich time to grow in who we are. Whatever Lenten practices we undertake, it is important to remember their purpose. Lenten practices are nt about losing weight or finally stopping smoking, but they are about deepening our baptismal identity as children of God and members of the Body of Christ. ” If you are children of God”….this is the identity conferred upon us at baptism. This is the identity out of which we enter into our Lenten desert. By remaining faithful to who we are- God’s children- we grow in our relationship with God, self and others. [Living Liturgy 2010] The new life we celebrate at Easter cannot happen without our dying to ourselves, without our going to Jerusalem with Jesus. This is the road we travel this Lent. Music for your reflection
Left Everything Having someone take command of us can bring opposite effects from us. In our Gospel today, Peter and the others are docked and cleaning up after a night of unsuccessful fishing. We might surmise that they were a bit testy. Jesus gets into Peter’s boat and asks him to move away from the shore a bit where he sits and teaches. Then Jesus commands him to put out into the deep. Peter must have had an inkling of who Jesus was for he responds in the affirmative. If we pay attention to the details of the Gospel beyond the immediate call and response events, we might be caught by surprise. Too often we feel the burdens of discipleship is solely on our shoulders . The gospel depicts Jesus initiating the call. Our discipleship rests upon Jesus long before we begin to follow. The surprise of the Gospel is that we are never alone when we hear and follow God’s call; divine Presence always abides within us, enables us to hear the commands and call of God and to answer the call and remain faithful to it. God meets people where they are. Sinfulness is not a stumbling block to following God’s call. We simply go deeper; beyond our sinfulness to hear God call, each of us to discipleship. In spited of our objections, God gently and persistently says to each of us, “You are still the one I want.” We are invited to be overwhelmed by God’s graciousness and self-revelation and answer “Send me!” God’s is a gentle command. Our response must be strong.