Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time September 12, 2021

Today’s readings remind us that to follow the teachings of Jesus involves suffering. St. Francis de Sales has an interesting understanding of suffering:

I do not think we should ask for suffering, as did our Lord, for we aren’t able to handle it as He did. It is quite enough if we endure it patiently.

However, do not limit your patience to great deeds of courage. The truly patient and true servant of God bears up equally under the little as well as the great events in life. To be despised, criticized and accused by our friends and relatives is the test of virtue. The sting of a bee is much more painful than that of a fly. So likewise, the wrongs and attacks we suffer from those we love are far harder to bear than those we suffer from others. Yet it often happens that two good and well-intentioned persons, because of conflicting ideas, stir up great persecutions and attacks on one another.

If an evil happens to you choose a remedy agreeable to God. If you are falsely accused of something, you have a duty to respond with the truth. If the accusation continues after you have given a legitimate explanation, don’t try to make them accept your explanation. Gently stir up your courage. Arm yourself with the patience we ought to have toward ourselves. Often raise your heart to God so you may be on guard against a surprise attack. Yet we need to always watch out for our bad-tempered self that is good at thinking up things. But don’t be upset if this touchy self causes you to totter and stumble. Within us, the Spirit of Jesus is transforming us so that we seek in all things the honor and glory of God.

While we work to bring forth Christ in us, we must let go of our inordinate self-sufficiency that causes us to suffer. Yet we will experience peace if we remain resigned to God’s Will, remembering that God desires most our fidelity.

(Adapted from St. F. de Sales, Introd. to a Devout Life, Ryan, ed.; Letters of Spiritual Direction, Power & Wright, eds)

Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time September 5, 2021

In today’s Gospel, we experience God in Jesus who, through healing the deaf man, brings hope of a New World to the whole human family. St. Francis de Sales remarks:

Hope, like an arrow, darts up to the gate of Heaven, but it cannot enter there because it is a virtue wholly of earth. Hope is possible because God places in our hearts the desire for eternal life and then assures us that we can attain it. God places hope in our heart through the many promises made in the Scriptures. God’s assurance that we can achieve a life of eternal joy infinitely strengthens our desires and calms our heart. This calm is the root of the virtue of hope. Assured by faith that we can enjoy the promises God made to us, we wait in hope as we grow in God’s love with one another.

While our hopes and expectations bring joy to our heart, they also may bring sadness to fervent souls. Not finding ourselves the saints we hoped to be, we are often discouraged in the pursuit of virtue that leads to holiness. Have patience, lay aside that anxious care of yourself, and have no fear that anything will be wanting to you.

We need not hurry so fast. However, we must use the means that are given to us according to our vocation, and then remain in peace. We need to walk ardently, yet tranquilly, carefully but confidently. That is to say, we must have more confidence in Divine Providence than in our own work. When all human aid fails us, God takes over and cares for us. We have God, who is our All. Let us trust in God who will make us holy in time. For God, under whose guidance we have embarked, will always be attentive in providing us with whatever is necessary for our perfection. Let us begin to live well, according to our vocation: patiently, gently, and simply. For no one who hoped and trusted in God’s Goodness and Providence has ever been disappointed.

(Adapted from the writings of St. Francis de Sales)

Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time (August 29, 2021)

Today, we leave John’s “bread of life” discourse and return to Mark. Jesus has a few last words to the people of Galilee - the northern area of Palestine where he grew up. It is the last incident mark records of Jesus’ Galilean ministry - just before he headed south to Judea and its capital, Jerusalem, where he would die.

Mark shows the growing opposition of the Jews, instigated by the Jewish, religious leaders who had “come from Jerusalem.” The drama is building.

His listeners were unsettled because the Jerusalem crowd was reminding them of “the tradition of the elders.” The tradition of the elders was the Halakah, the oral law. In the second century, this would be written down as the Mishnah.

The purification/washing rites we heard in the Gospel were the Jewish leaders’ interpretations of the law of God, not the law. Sadly, these were being given equal importance to the law itself [the Torah]. Those washing rituals were meant to express a purification of the heart, not to substitute for it. They had been initially prescribed for the Levites [priests] and were later extended to include all Israelites.

The failure of Jesus’ disciples to observe these purification rites occasions the criticism from the Jews. Jesus quotes Isaiah: “This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me; in vain do they worship me, teaching as doctrines human precepts.”

What Jesus asks of them - and us - is simple, but profound and challenging. He wants our hearts. The heart is the center of a person for Jews as well as for us.

Jesus knows well that they and we can appear innocent, look like true followers, but our face does not mirror our heart. We may have an innocent smile on the outside, but our heart, our interior disposition, can be a mess. We may have the words, but not the music. We may carefully observe external rules within our religion, but our hearts, our internal disposition, can be seething with self-will.

What drives your heart? My heart? That question and its answer are what the work of lent is about. Today’s gospel raises this issue toward the end of vacation season. This is the time of year when many activities resume. This time of year is appropriate for a mini spiritual review. The question is Jesus’; our answer is the product of self- examination to produce self-knowledge. Knowledge of self is vital for both spirituality and sanity.
What drives our hearts, our center? The Gospel provided a list for us: evil thoughts, unchastity, theft, murder, adultery, greed, deceit, envy, arrogance.” Extraordinarily strong drives.

There are other more subtle drives / drivers of our hearts: religious indifference, because I put self-wants before God’s or neighbor’s. Sloth, because it is just too much work. My persona, because I do not want to appear to others as if I am hot on God. It may be ignorance: too often, we confuse the end, relationship, with the means, laws and devotions that get us into spiritual trouble.

We are often not aware of some of these drivers. They simply slip quietly into our lives without conscious effort. They may belittle our dark side that needs to be brought into the light by introspection. Once in the light, they are seen for what they are: barriers to becoming who we are called to be.

William Glasser developed a method he called “reality therapy” that focuses on changing our behavior patterns. He calls it “positive addiction,” and gave the examples of jogging and meditation. Beginning either of these or any new discipline is difficult. As we continue jogging or meditating, it becomes easier. If we stick with it, it becomes a healthy addiction that we simply cannot seem to do without.

This practice has a spin-off in the spiritual life. An ancient, nameless, wise person said: “The act is the parent of the habit; the habit is the parent of the virtue.” Perseverance is key. Per-severa: through the hard/severe stuff to habitually praying, doing good, attending mass.

As Jesus said, “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” This time of year is a good time for a heart check-up.

Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time (August 22, 2021)

Today brings to conclusion the bread of life summer insertion. We have seen in the last two weeks, Jesus the bread of life as food for thought; then as real food, real presence. The liturgical fact that the first reading is connected to the Gospel reading in theme is very apparent today.

Joshua had been a boy when Israel began its long march to freedom across the desert. Moses was his hero: how could Joshua have imagined that one day he would be Moses’ successor and have to confront the children of Israel. We hear: “If it does not please you to serve the Lord, decide today whom you will serve: the gods of our fathers beyond the river or the gods of the Amorites in whose country you are now dwelling?” Joshua adds his personal answer and commitment: “As for me and my household, we will serve the lord.”

Failure to say “yes” to Joshua’s challenging question would have shown tremendous ingratitude for all that god had done in freeing the Jews from slavery in Egypt and guiding them to freedom in a new land.

Today, in our appendix to the bread of life discourse from john, we hear that after the discourse many followers of Jesus strongly reacted to his teaching on real presence: “This is a hard saying; who can accept it?”

We hear: “As a result of this, many of his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him.”

Because many of his followers were leaving, Jesus, like Joshua many years earlier, had to directly confront his remaining followers on his critical teaching on Eucharist. He asked the twelve, “Do you also want to leave?” With this pointed question, he drew a line in the sand. Are you with me, or not? Defecate or abdicate. Fish or cut bait.

During Jesus’ life, Peter seemed to put his foot in his mouth more than anyone else. But Peter’s answer today hits the nail right on the head. Peter answered with those never-to-be-forgotten words: “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the holy one of God.” Perfect. “We have come to believe and are convinced.” The twelve have been eating the sapiential bread of life, the teachings of Jesus. In their time together, Jesus has given them much to think about, much to chew on. They trusted, [had faith], Jesus was the bread of life. They “believed,” as Peter said. And Peter added, they “are convinced,” they “know.”

They did not trust as much as they would later. They did not know as much as they would know later. They trusted and knew enough to stay with Jesus. Trusting and knowing comprise the process of us pilgrim followers.

At the beginning of this discourse, Jesus fed five thousand with some barley loaves and fish. Their understanding of him as a compassionate, holy man grew. They proclaimed him as “the prophet” - an important step forward on the faith journey.

Spiritual growth is trusting Jesus [faith] and coming to a deeper understanding. If we are convinced, as peter was, that Jesus is the holy one of God, then we believe that there is no better place to go apart from his presence. Progress in any relationship happens when we deepen trust and knowledge of the other. Is it not that way with friends, spouses? As time passes in good relationships, we more deeply trust the other based on our positive experience, and we know them better. A wonderful, mutual consciousness evolves.

This understanding is new wine that did not sit well with the departing followers of Jesus whose baggage was old wine skins; they broke ranks from Jesus with burst wine skins.

Those who believe and accept the truth of Jesus’ real presence in Eucharist participate and increasingly experience his presence in that intimate moment of Holy Communion. We have opportunity in that moment of union to pour out our hearts to him and listen. Sometimes, he speaks to us with non-verbal answers that come to us as at no other time. Sometimes, there is just silence. Silence is perfectly acceptable for those who love each other.

The departing ex-followers made a statement and asked a question: “This is a hard saying. Who can accept it?” like Joshua and Peter and the other apostles, I answer in faith: “I can. I do.”

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time (August 15, 2021)

What a wonderful gift the Eucharist is! Jesus gives us his flesh to eat and his blood to drink. And he commands us to eat and drink that we might have life – His life, eternal life.

Like Wisdom in today’s first reading, Jesus invites us to the meal he has prepared for us – a meal that enables us to unite ourselves to his saving death and resurrection. On the Cross, Jesus’ flesh was pierced and his blood shed for others,for you and me. As we eat and drink, we are called to “forsake foolishness that (we) might live; advance in the way of understanding.”

The words of Wisdom remind us that this is a sacred meal, a meal of covenant. God has given Jesus for our sake. In Jesus, God’s great love and mercy become visible, tangible. When we eat Jesus’ body and drink his blood, we are expressing our willingness to be one with Jesus in his saving mission to the world. We become his “good news” to today’s world.

Each day we seek to understand better how we are to live as members of this covenant community. In this meal, we become one with Jesus and one with the community – one in the Body of Christ. As we leave this sacred meal, we are challenged to live the daily reality of our oneness.

St. Francis de Sales offers us some practical advice on how to make this happen more effectively. He writes: “After Communion, consider Jesus seated in your heart and bring before him each of your faculties and senses in order to hear his commands and promise him fidelity.” This exercise can become our thanksgiving and our commitment to living out what we have celebrated and received. Jesus will offer us a way of using our intellect, our will, our memory, our hearing, our touching, our speaking today so that we can witness to God’s loving presence in the world.

We heard St. Paul encourage us: “Watch carefully how you live, not as foolish persons but as wise.” Our eating and drinking at the table of the Lord makes all of us one. May the wise way we live today and everyday make visible the oneness we experience here in Eucharist.

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (August 8, 2021)

Jesus explained to them: “I myself am the bread of life. No one who comes to me shall ever be hungry, no one who believes in me shall ever thirst.”

Today is week 3 of the 5 weeks dedicated to john’s sixth chapter on the bread of life.

The first reading from 1 Kings tells of Elijah’s eating bread, a hearth cake. It also tells us that this was quite the “power bar.” After eating two of them, we read that he walked for 40 days and 40 nights to Mt. Horeb where he re-examined his fear-ridden life, accepted once more the word of God and renews his trust in God.

The Hebrew bible has a tradition of knowledge being called the bread of the spirit. In Deuteronomy, we read a famous and familiar quote: “Not by bread alone does man live, but by every word that comes forth from the Lord. [8:3]

In John 6 we read of two different senses of Jesus’ speaking of himself as the bread of life. John follows a clear outline. He first quotes Jesus’ claim: “I am the bread of life.” Next, there is murmuring from the Jews. Finally, there is Jesus’ explanation of his saying, “I am the bread of life.” Today’s Gospel addresses the first sense in which Jesus uses the phrase: “I am the bread of life.”

Key to understanding the two parallel passages are the verbs that Jesus uses when he speaks about the “bread.” Let’s review today’s reading:

“No one comes to me shall ever be hungry, no one who believes in me shall ever thirst.” It is written in the prophets: God shall teach them all. Everyone who listens to my father and learns from him comes to me…this is the bread that comes down from heaven so that one may eat it and not die.

Do you see how these verses correspond to the quote from Deuteronomy? “Not by bread alone does man live, but by every word that comes forth from the lord. We heard the verb - phrases: believes – taught by God – listens to my father – learns from him - eat[s] [this bread].

Jesus is proclaiming in today’s passage that he is “the bread of life” in the sense that he is food for the mind / heart. He gives us “something to chew on.” He is sapiential food. He is wisdom for those who listen to him, to those who accept him as the center of their lives. This food provides the one who accepts him with a life that is not at mere subsistence level, not simple existing. Bread is seen as something that is necessary for living a life that is fully alive. This bread of life provides an answer to the question of what living is for.

We can never underestimate the intelligence and the ingenuity of John the author. It is well accepted that this section of john 6 was calculated to express what we call “the liturgy of the word” in the celebration of Eucharist. It is at this time of our celebration that we turn our attention to a theme that is present in each Sunday celebration of Eucharist.

We first hear a connection to the Hebrew bible; we then usually hear a passage from the apostle, Paul; the final reading is from one of the four gospels. When we listen carefully each week, we hear the great themes from scripture in carefully chosen seasons of the year. These give us the history of salvation, the interventions of our god in the lives of those who have gone before us. During the season of Easter, the first reading is from the Acts of the Apostles that tells us the formative experiences of the early Christian church.

This is bread that thoroughly nourishes us. We realize that our concerns, our worries, our burdens, our joys are not unique to us. We hear of others who walked before us and experienced similar times. In a sense, these people are brought into ours lives in our day. We digest the bread of life and are eternally nourished on our journey.

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (August 1, 2021)

This passage from John follows the multiplication that we heard last week and precedes the heart of the “bread of life” discourse in weeks 3 and 4 and the curious conclusion in week 5. In today’s gospel, we see that the central dynamic between Jesus and the crowd is one familiar to us: Johannine misunderstanding – where we hear something that makes Jesus’ adversary sound “less enlightened, dumber” than we and, of course, not as smart as Jesus. It is like watching Sherlock Holmes and hearing Dr. Watson make some not-so-smart comments that make us smile.

The crowd did not get it. They thought after last week’s episode with the bread and fish that either he was a great source of inspiration that moved their hearts to share, or he was a wonderful, magical provider.

He said, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst.” Now, with this claim, he requires faith from them.

But . . . they want more proof. There was a strong rabbinic belief that when the messiah came into the world, he would bring a return of the manna. We recall that Jews believed that Moses’ greatest work was the gift of the manna, and also that the Messiah’s work would even surpass that. Moses and the Messiah would form highpoints of Jewish history. Their question, “What can you do?” was a challenge. The miracle of the 5000 was insufficient for them because in their judgment it was not certainly bread from God. It was ordinary bread from Moses. Is it not curious that the Hebrew word, manna, means, “What is it?”

Jesus reminded them that the manna was from God, not Moses and that the manna was only symbolic of the bread of life that came from God. He was claiming that complete satisfaction of hunger and thirst came from him, Jesus, who came from God.

Because “the bread of life” is the spiritual nourishment that god consistently gives to everyone, and because Jesus is the word who connects our father to us, it is Jesus who is the “bread of life” and whose relationship with you and me empowers us never to experience spiritual hunger or thirst. Never to experience spiritual hunger or thirst is a not as good way of saying that “Jesus is life.” as in “the way, the truth, and the life.”

In this climactic exchange, he claims that the reality of God is present in the person of Jesus.

This is heady stuff. It is why an eagle in Christian art symbolizes John the evangelist, the traditional author of the fourth Gospel. He soars with us to the heights of theology. He never calls what we refer to as “miracles” as “miracles.” He calls them “signs.” He neatly included them after the prologue in the first twelve of the twenty-five chapters in his Gospel, and before the “book of glory” – the story of his passion and death with an added appendix.

Next week and the following week we will get to the heart of the bread of life discourse.

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (July 25, 2021)

Our first reading provides a mini-parallel from the Old Testament.  It tells of Elisha feeding 100 people with 20 barley loaves. 

The setting for today’s gospel is the place where God and man traditionally meet: a mountain - Mount Sinai where the 10 commandments were given, the mountain of the transfiguration, the mount of the beatitudes, and today, the mountain for the feeding of the 5000.  The exact location is not recorded.  We know that the place was near the Sea of Galilee.  The time is near Passover, which appropriately conjures up the time of the Last Supper.  Although place and time are sketchy, it is a story so important that it is the only miracle story that is found in all four gospels.

The traditional story of their lack of food is the segue for Jesus to begin to speak of himself as the bread of life.  A difficulty with the traditional understanding is that it was precisely the temptation to make bread had been a temptation that Jesus rejected outright in the desert before he began his public ministry.

There is an alternative explanation for the miracle that has come more recently.  Jews of Jesus’ day were seasoned travelers.  They well knew that there were no golden arches of McDonald’s, or KFC’s or other fast-food places.  Ancient Jews were famous for always carrying a bottled-shaped basket called a kophinos in which they carried kosher food to avoid ritual impurity.

So, an alternative interpretation is that when the Jewish followers saw that Jesus had them sit down and then Jesus took the boy’s barley loaves and fish and shared them, they were moved and followed his good example and shared what they carried.  This interpretation is surely in line with Jesus’ many sayings about sharing:  he praised the poor widow who gave the little she had, two pennies.  Jesus said that it is more blessed to give than to receive.  We recall the Good Samaritan who generously shared with an “outsider” in need.  We recall how the enthusiastic Zacchaeus gave half of what he possessed to the poor.  

Which of the two interpretations is correct?  The traditional, almost magical interpretation has been preached for a long time, but the innovative interpretation does give us pause.  Pause is good.  The second interpretation stirs many reminders besides the words of Jesus just mentioned.

• It reminds us of the then current Jewish practice of carrying food.

• It reminds us that the bread came from barley, not wheat; barley was the bread of the poor – a reminder to us of simplicity.

• It reminds us of the difference in two disciples: Phillip, a native of that area, said, in effect, feeding the large crowd was a hopeless endeavor, while Andrew, the apostle famous for bringing people to Jesus, brought the boy to Jesus.  He did something – a reminder to us to do something.

It reminds us that our Lord can take what we bring and do wonders.  Remember Alex’s lemonade stand and how a little girl stole the hearts of us all with her simple, generous, loving heart with amazing results to this day.

It reminds you and me that in our cooperating with our lord in the coming of the kingdom, an even greater miracle than making bread is softening the hearts of others.

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (July 18, 2021)

Last Sunday we heard Jesus sending out the twelve on their first missionary journey. Today, we hear of their return from ministry. This is the only time in mark’s gospel that the term “apostle” appears, referring to the twelve.

Jesus compassionately reads the situation. He does not encourage them to do more or to do better. In his compassionate wisdom, he knows that they need time to rest and to relax.

I think that Jesus would add a third r to our secular notion of R&R.  Rest and relaxation are absolutely necessary, but so is a third R: reflection -- to   determine where we are, where we are going. Jesus guides his apostles toward a quiet place.  

It turns out to be not so quiet, so he takes over the teaching and allows the twelve to rest. The three R’s can be delayed, but never omitted. After all, Jesus promised refreshment for the tired: “Come to me all you who are weary and heavily burdened; I will refresh you.”   

You are disciples. Many - no, most - of you minister to the community. Often, when you do not name what you are doing as ministry you minister to an elderly parent or lonely relative, - listening to oft’ repeated stories, adjusting to slowness of gait. You minister to a needy child - taking the time to play, to answer a hundred questions.  You minister to a hurting friend by your presence.  You minister to a sick neighbor by shopping, preparing a meal. Besides all that, you work at keeping yourself and your household going.

When the boat crunches up on the sand on the far side of the lake, Jesus, without complaint, ministers to the people who interrupted his plan. The Twelve are not mentioned. Likely, Jesus sent them off for rest, relaxation, and reflection on the conversation they had while crossing the four miles on the Sea of Galilee.

Jesus has something to say to you today. You, too, need to take time for the 3 R’s. Rest, relax, and reflect. Deliberate rest and relaxation are essential for healthy living. Reflection is essential for establishing a balance between work and R&R.

Jesus did not push the twelve beyond their limits, nor does he push you.  He may be leading you by posing some questions:

• ·        Where am I on the continuum of work and the three R’s?  Extremes are easy to reach. Extreme work leads to burnout. Extreme rest leads to rust.  Extreme introspection leads to scrupulosity or spiritual self-centeredness.  The alternative extreme leads to being a workaholic. There will always be something to do or some “reason” to do little or nothing. Balance is the challenge.

• ·        What is the quality of my rest? Am I renewed after rest/relaxation? Does my rest usually make me feel good about returning to activity?  Downtime is not “one size fits all.”  It is relative to where one is in life at any given time.  Once again, we need balance.

• ·        How can I allow Jesus to minister to me? Do I need more interior, prayer to discern god’s will? Rote prayer can become a regimen of “busy work” that actually avoids honest conversation with our Lord.

Summer provides weather for relaxation and the suspension and slowdown of many church ministries. For active parishioners who are weary, summer provides a needed break from ministry. For not-so-active parishioners, it provides a time for reflection on choices for a fresh start in September.

We need to meet Jesus in the quiet place before we meet him in the market place.  

In Eucharist we meet our Lord. Let’s receive him and follow him into both ministry and into the three R’s.

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (July 11, 2021)

We hear Mark’s account of Jesus’ sending out the apostles.  We have heard about Jesus’ instructions on single-mindedness: traveling light and not being picky about personal accommodations. We are missionaries, not vacationers.

I thought today I would address two tips that are not usually talked about:  a companion and rejection.

Jesus formed a community around him, but when it came to getting the word out, he did not send his followers out as a large community or as individuals.  Jesus sent them out in pairs. For many good reasons:

• ·        Two can support each other when the going gets tough or one gets discouraged; 

• ·        Two can bounce ideas off each other because two heads are better than one;

• ·        Two can hold each other accountable; 

• ·        Two can travel more safely -- especially if the message is not being well received;

• ·        Two are stronger witnesses; what one does not think of the other very well may, and two have more credibility; for this reason, two were required to witness in a Jewish court.

This is a good rule of thumb for us as well. In our attempts at missionary encounters  -- to which every one of us is called -- it is good to have a companion.  Jehovah’s witnesses know this well and practice it.  We hear Jesus’ call for a walking stick and sandals.  Action gear, not a TV remote and house slippers for oneself and a companion.

The second point I’d like to make is about shaking the dust from our feet if we are rejected.  This is a tricky, a dangerous passage.  We can misuse it either to justify our anger if we feel it or to reject folks and then stand in judgment, as did James and John, wanting to call fire from heaven on rejecters.

In a nutshell, Jesus wanted his followers simply to recognize their limits in converting and move on, leaving the situation to god and his later sending someone else to them.  It is not anyone’s gift to ring everyone’s bell.

The previous passage to today’s reading was last Sunday’s rejection by Jesus ‘ own people -- the folks with whom he grew up in Nazareth.  Jesus did not doggedly stay. We read:  “He made the rounds of the neighboring villages instead.”

Jesus’ wisdom is echoed by Kenny Rogers, the C&W singer.  He tells us that you have got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away, know when to run. There is wisdom in the gambler’s song.

Before he began his public life, Jesus was in the desert with Satan who made attractive offers  -- and Jesus walked.  He knew when to walk and when to let others walk,  as when the rich young man chose to walk away rather than give up his riches, Jesus was sad, but he did not run after him.

We do not know the number of times the disciples had to shake the dust from their feet and move on. Satan did not always fall like lightning from the sky.

There is a principle here for every one of us. A mature assessment of ourselves involves our willingness to recognize our limits, in our missionary relationship with others. 

At another level, Dr. Scott Peck said that his practice of psychotherapy would be enjoyable and relatively easy if it were not for a single reality -- resistance.   “People who come to psychotherapy do so saying they want to change, and then from the moment therapy starts they usually begin acting as if the last thing on god’s earth they want to do is change.”

It is God’s spirit in a person’s life that has the persuasive power to deal with resistance -- not our fervor, not our intelligence, not our cleverness.  And some folks we think are resisting God’s truth may simply be resisting us.

We are not to quit easily, but there is wisdom in knowing when to let go. Parents, like priests, do not have control, here. Like St. Monica, the mother of St. Augustine, we pray. We do not badger. We take the opportunities to speak positively about god and the things of God. A former, poor situation should not discourage us in reaching out later to others.

The serenity prayer is helpful: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (July 4, 2021)

Have you had the experience of losing your glasses and looking everywhere and then finding them on your head or around your neck?  Or, think you lost something and find it just about where you first thought you lost it?  Humbling!

Jesus, after a successful road trip, was in Nazareth, preaching in his home synagogue before those who knew him best. Luke tells us that what Jesus reads to them was a messianic prophecy from Isaiah.  He finished and said, ‘This scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”  Mark omits this provocative line from his gospel.  We may be tempted to look down on Jesus’ critics, but we cannot be too hard on the folks of Nazareth.  We may be more like them than not.  You might think this would be his most sympathetic audience, but the crowd dismissed him. 

I can think of three possible forces at play in Jesus’ experience of being written off from which we may learn. First, the crowd thought they knew him.  He was a carpenter - just “one of the home townies.” Oldsters thought of him as the kid around the corner, Joseph and Mary’s son. Dismissal of messenger and message happened to Ezekiel and Paul of Tarsus in today’s other two readings.

A second possibility for not hearing is that any part of Jesus’ message that threatens one’s self-interest can be dismissed as “too controversial” or  “too political.”  Folks prefer the comfortable status quo.  That is “being reasonable.”  We tend to think we already “have it right.” Rocking the boat is often not accepted as good news. Jesus was drastically closing the gap between God and themselves. If he were right, the great act of god  --to save, to punish -- was not all behind them as great stories to be told at Passover at the Seder.  If he were right, this young man was saying that god was not only among them, but he was also calling them to make major changes in their lives.

Third, there is a tendency to elevate the importance of the new. This is why consultants arrive from the airport or the long drive, carrying laptops and PowerPoint presentations, bringing wisdom and insight. Organizations pay big bucks to hear them, but the reason we value this imported wisdom may be because the consultant is from out of town. If they live far away, their insight must be more valuable, more global. An irony is that when we go to their town, we are considered the “expert.”

It is a fact that what is close at hand is often missed. About the only way we wake up to value the ordinary blessings of our lives is to have them taken away, or to view them from a distance, or to have a visitor help us to see them again, as if for the first time.

Failing to see the extraordinary in the ordinary of our lives does have consequences.  A troubling phrase of today’s Gospel stands out because of their lack of faith; Jesus was “not able to perform any mighty deed there.”  Jesus was “unable” because his infinite power was bound by the father’s gift of free will to the townsfolk and us.  Jesus cannot mediate his father’s power without a faith response; there was little response in Nazareth.  He could do only little. They do not even mention what he spoke in their synagogue; they dismiss his right to teach anything about god.

The people were “full of themselves.” There was no room in their minds for a new insight -- or any new revelation.  And . . . “familiarity breeds contempt” as the saying goes. Also, please notice their lack of belief amazed Jesus. Seldom is Jesus astonished, but when he is, it is about people’s faith. It is either extraordinary faith or it is the extraordinary lack of it.  

A  “few” listened. Those few save the world that refuses to listen to a prophet.   Small groups listen and take up the prophet’s call and become prophetic themselves in word and deed. Some will stand against the power of fear and greed.  Some will risk unpopularity and contempt, even imprisonment or death to be the voice of God in our time.  They begin as rebels – even canon or civil law-breakers - and end as “founding fathers,” heroes, and, occasionally, martyrs for the cause.

Always looking forward to what is not yet, or getting stuck in what used to be, we can be crucified, like Jesus, between two thieves, the past and the future.  It has been well said: “The past is history; the future is mystery --- we have only the gift of the now -- and that is why they call it “present.” Let us recognize Jesus in the present and live our lives in the now, trying always to be open to the movement of the Spirit.

Starting with those closest to you -- let us be present to them and present to the presence of God in our midst.

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (June 27, 2021)

Mark is an action reporter.   His short gospel includes relatively few words of Jesus, but much action, related in vivid detail - often with the human tensions surrounding Jesus’ ministry.  

Today’s gospel is a double-header of action.  As we know, Mark uses a technique that has come to be known as the “Markan sandwich.”   He will relate an action, and then have another action contained within; he intends that the two be interpreted in relation to each other.  He uses the technique here and three times later. [Chapters 6,11, and 14]

Today, the story of Jairus and his daughter are the bread-slices; the woman with the hemorrhage is the lunchmeat

At first, Jesus seems annoyed that he was touched.  But he wants to be more than a healing energy-supply.  He wants to meet the person whose faith was sufficient to reach out and touch him.  He wants their relationship to be personal, face-to-face.  

In mark, faith must be a radical relationship of trust in god; it is actually a way of seeing, a manner of living.  Mark’s Jesus does not want miracles to be a magic show.  Jesus wants miracles as examples of divine compassion as a response to trust / faith.

The woman and the little girl are more alike than they are different:

• Both are women; both are nameless;

• ·The little girl is 12; the woman has had her hemorrhage for 12 years – the lifetime of the little girl;

• The ruler refers to the girl as “my daughter”; Jesus calls the woman “daughter.”  Personal!

• Both situations regard blood.  In the situation of the woman, Jesus makes blood stop flowing; in the situation of the girl, he makes the life / blood flow once more;

In both cases, Jesus touched someone who was unclean, making himself unclean: a woman bleeding is unfit for worship in the synagogue  - unclean; the leader’s daughter, a dead girl, is also unclean;

Both are untouchables under the law;

The woman comes forward in fear of overstepping.  The leader of the synagogue feared offending his fellow leaders who would regularly stare contemptuously at Jesus.    Fear is a common denominator in both action-stories.

Both stories are miracle stories; both have as their point:  the presence of faith in the believer and the merciful response of Jesus.

Today, let us talk about fear. Young or old, weak or strong, we all experience fear.  Fear is an emotion we share with animals - as Charles Darwin showed over a century ago. If we are in extreme physical danger, fear is normal, necessary, and good. It “juices” us.

Spiritual fear is unhealthy. Jesus told us that fear is the lack of faith. Faith is what we are called to most basically.

Fear is so universal and potentially dangerous that we would be surprised if Jesus did not address it.  He did: “Fear is useless.”  He said on many occasions, “Do not be afraid.” Both at Jesus conception and transfiguration, the angels said: “Fear not.”  When we put aside fear, the power of faith is able to generate new life.  “Perfect love casts out all fear.” [1 Jn: 4:18}

We are not talking about fear of the Lord as the beginning of wisdom. As we know, this “fear” is really not fear, but the feeling of awe and reverence in the presence of the Lord. That is the beginning of wisdom.

One of our deepest fears is being rejected, being totally alone. The Christian is saved from that fear.  We have the assurance of Jesus of god’s unconditional love for us; we have the assurance as a member of our faith community that we are not alone - unless, sadly, we choose to be alone. We rightly feel part of a community here; we have prayer support. We have food banks in time of need, counseling services, and especially parish friends for emotional support. 

When we gather around the altar on Sunday, we celebrate and indicate that we have the active support of others who share the same vision.

A final observation. We have seen what Jesus did in today’s Gospel and why he did it.  I think it is significant also to see how he did it.  Jesus surely did not get up in the morning and say: “What would you like to do today, guys?” We may be sure that he had an agenda that flowed from his ongoing prayer.  Today’s lesson about healing shows his flexibility.  Sometimes reacting is more needed than acting.  Having children reminds many of you of that.  This gospel reminds us all of Jesus’ flexibility and teaches us that to “Live Jesus” includes “hanging loose,” maintaining a flexibility to the important needs of others.

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time (June 20, 2021)

Job is one of the most famous figures of the Old Testament -not bad for someone who never existed - except in the imagination of the unknown author of the Book of Job.  Job was written sometime between the 7th and 2nd centuries B.C.  It is a literary masterpiece - a kind of ancient, morality play.

Job is described as an oriental chieftain, pious and upright, richly endowed in his own person and possessions.  He begins to suffer terribly: he loses his property, his children. A loathsome disease afflicts his body and sorrow oppresses his spirit. Yet, Job does not complain against god. 

He is visited by three friends - then a fourth - who make speeches.   The book is an interplay of speeches among the six participants in the book: Job, the four friends, God and the narrator. Each friend makes the same point that all Job’s troubles come from job’s personal wrongdoing and demand repentance towards god.

It’s been called the most consistently theological work in the Old Testament - nothing but an extended discussion of one theological issue, which we all face, the question of suffering.  

The book teaches that suffering is sometimes a punishment for sin, sometimes a warning against future sin.  The book also addresses the question of why suffering is sometimes visited upon good people. This last aspect predates rabbi Harold Kushner’s famous Why Bad Things Happen to Good People.

Job reflects on their answers to his problem. He rejects their solutions and asks for a personal interview with god to find out why he is suffering.  God responds, not by justifying his actions, but by reminding Job who he, God, is.  The one lesson that we can learn from the story of Job is how big our God is; Job learned not to question God who is so magnificent. Job is content; God restores all Job’s losses.  

What an incomplete story for us Christians!  If Job had lived after the life and death of Jesus - as we do - there would be a tremendous difference in his story.  Where the story of Job fails - as well as Rabbi Kushner’s book - is Jesus’ revelation:  “God is love.” Job’s story and Rabbi Kushner’s book lack that basic, essential revelation of Jesus. We know from Jesus that we are loved with an everlasting love. God, in his unconditional love, does not cause evil in our lives.

Ours is not a mercurial, not a whimsical God who would toy with us. There is no basis for faith, hope and love in a mercurial, whimsical God. Ours is a God who loves us and draws us to himself. Our God said, “Come to me all you who are weary and heavily burdened; I will refresh you.”   

Each of us has difficulties, hardships. Our God is a personal God who accompanies us on our journey through our difficulties. What a difference!

The very meaning of life that Jesus reveals is lacking in Job’s story. In today’s Gospel, Jesus calls us to faith/trust in him when we experience our storms in life.  He has already revealed his love for us. We recall that suspended between faith/trust and the love he has for us, is hope, our “openness to surprise”.  Hope enables us to cope in difficult times with the acquired attitude that there is nothing that we cannot face with our trust-worthy and loving God supporting us.

Jesus gives us a destination, a purpose: union with him and the means to achieve union both here and hereafter.

Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time (June 13, 2021)

Parents of growing children sometimes have a heart-breaking experience.  A child of theirs does not “catch” the faith that they have tried to teach and “have caught.”

Recently, I heard a good story from grandparents who were in that situation. Their only child was indifferent to God and church as he grew up. He graduated, dated and married.   He and his wife had a child. The grandmother was a real, grandmother. She told her grandchild stories of Jesus and how Jesus loved him, [she planted the seeds of faith.]  The grandfather took the child for walks and took him fishing.  He said God bless you to the child even when he didn’t sneeze.  [He cultivated the seed that his wife had planted].

Years passed and the grandparents were overjoyed when the grandchild wanted to know God, to have a relationship with God, like his grandparents - and completed the RCIC. After his confirmation, the parents saw the faith in their child and returned to the Lord as well. The story had a very happy ending. 

The parables of Jesus do two things:  the stories, first, arrest our attention; they also tease us to puzzle about their meaning. Today we heard two of the kingdom-parables: one made the point that the seed grows on its own, silently. The other is the fact that the kingdom of God begins small and grows beyond expectation. 

I wonder how true those two points are in our day. It seems that like the grandparents’ experience with their son and grandson, the seed needs to be watered, cultivated and fertilized. Our surroundings “out there” today are hostile to the quiet, unattended growing of the seed of the word of God.

Barbara Walters once interviewed Stephen Spielberg before the Oscar presentations.  She asked him: “How do you feel about making Schindler’s List? How do you feel about being a Jew? His reply: “I feel I am about something.”  

We are about something. We are all about something in our effort to make the kingdom of god a reality in our land. It is our task to do all that we can to facilitate the birth of the kingdom of God in our generation, because the kingdom of God is not a once-and-for-all accomplishment. It must be grown anew in each generation.

Harry Smith on CBS interviewed the actress Geena Davis. She made an insightful remark: “Life is messy and awful and complicated and beautiful - all at the same time.” So true! It is an apt description of our situation and the challenge and the growth process of the kingdom of God.

The Lord gives meaning to our lives; having meaning makes living our lives a positive experience.  Is it our task to contribute to the growth of the kingdom, so that the messy is less, and the beautiful, more?  That is what happens in the day-to-day living out of our lives when we understand that that is “what we are about.”

The Body and Blood of Jesus Christ (June 6, 2021)

The events of Holy Week are tremendous in importance, but, unfortunately, overwhelmingly crammed into a few days.  Holy Thursday is revisited at the beginning of post-Easter, ordinary time.  When we review Holy Thursday, we call it “the Feast the Body and Blood of Christ.”

The setting for the last supper is the Seder meal of Passover, the great Jewish celebration of the “passing over” the Jews by the angel of death and the passing from slavery to freedom from Egypt.

The ritual telling of the Jewish story at Seder was called Haggadah – the explanation of Passover to those present, especially children.  Our liturgy of the word came out of this.

The second part of our mass also comes from the Seder. The Jews ate unleavened bread, matzo. Because of their urgency in leaving Egypt, there was not time to bake with yeast.

Our first reading today comes from the book of exodus, the story of the ratification of a covenant. Moses relates god’s wishes, and the Jews promise to obey the laws which god enjoins on them as their part of the covenant. The sealing of the covenant takes place at an altar that Moses sets up.

Blood, for a Jew of that day, was equated with life.  Understandable!  If a warrior bleeds out in battle, he loses his life.  They concluded, somehow logically, but not factually, that blood was life.

The blood of the sacrificed lamb offering was put into two bowls.  The contents of one are splashed on the altar to symbolize the binding nature of the covenant on God’s part.  The other bowl is sprinkled on the people as a sign of their binding to God.  Thus, the common life-blood ratifies the union of God and his people in the unity of family blood.

During the Seder, Jesus interrupted the flow of this ritual Jewish meal. After he said the blessing, he interjected the words over the bread: “This is my body.”  This is I.

Later, at the third of four cups of wine, called “the cup of blessing,” symbolizing the blood of the Passover lamb, Jesus said the blessing and again interrupted the normal flow of the Seder and said: “This is the cup of my blood.”  This is I.  Just as the former covenant was ratified with blood [Ex 24:8; Zech 9:11], Jesus establishes a new covenant ratified with his own blood to be shed the next day.

The renowned liturgist, Godfrey Diekmann, after discussing the various theories of what happened to the bread and wine used to challenge his students with these words:  “What good is it if the bread is changed and we are not?  Do you accept your own participation in God’s divinity?  Are you ready to become the food you rise to receive?”  Diekmann was saying, “We are what we eat” at Mass.

We may need to remind ourselves of Diekmann’s question; receiving Eucharist is not magic.  The celebrant is not a wizard and you, “Muggles” – Harry Potter.  Being in church does not any more make us a Christian than standing in a garage makes us a car.

To receive Eucharist requires our awareness of what we are about as Christians; that is, being consciously present to Jesus, being focused on Jesus at the moment of communion – and afterwards for a while.

Being present in that manner will change us just as a weekly visit to Mother Teresa would have changed us. 

To say the same thing in a more scholarly way: there is a philosophical – slash – theological principle: “Whatever is received is received by the quality of the recipient.”

Sounds strange, but it is the principle that underlies familiar experiences.  It is the principle that underlies our experience of the sun:

• ·        The same sun will harden clay and melt wax.

• ·        The same sun may give you a savage tan but will sunburn this Irishman.

• ·        The sun is the same, the receivers receive it differently.

Different effects.

What is true of the liturgy of the Eucharist is as true for the liturgy of the word.  Jesus taught that when he taught about the same grain falling on different kinds of soil: the rocky, the hard, and the fertile. The Word of God will change us only if we are open to it by attentive listening.

At resurrection we have a built-in reminder. There is a period of silence and dimmed lights to minimize distractions after communion. That helps us to concentrate and to enter within ourselves – and both listen to and talk to our Lord.

We will probably not hear an audible answer, but we find that we somehow get ideas that were not there before we made ourselves present to Jesus. We need to open our minds, our hearts, our spirits and we will change through presence in Eucharist.

Trinity Sunday (May 30, 2021)

Last Sunday, the church marked the end of the celebration of Easter, with the celebration of Pentecost - the celebration of the birthday of the Church. The Church uses the next two Sundays to reflect on two of the most important ways God continues to share: today, who God is; next Sunday, the gift of God’s presence in his Body and Blood.

We know that there is one God - God revealed himself to the Jews. But Jesus revealed that it is not as simple as that: God is not simply one; he is somehow three.  Jesus never said, listen up, guys, today I want to tell you about the Trinity.  He never used the word.  He did say:

• ·  “The Father and I are one.”  

• · He talked about sending “the Spirit.”  

• ·In today’s Gospel, we heard Jesus’ command to baptize in the name of “the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Two different groups heard those words and tried to figure them out: Jews, who were the staunchest of monotheists, were not an analytic people. Some were concerned only that Jesus made himself equal to god by speaking of his father - and blasphemously saying that he and the father were one. Therefore, the Jewish solution was rejection of Jesus. They were more interested in obeying the law than listening to god.

Greeks who were analytic [and you and I are cultural descendants of the Greeks], the question arose among Greek Christians of how to handle this father - son - spirit “stuff.” Did you know that the Trinity was not a clear Christian teaching until the 4th century?

So, there is one God, but there is not aloneness in God. There is a loving community within God.  There are, as it were, three aspects of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, which we call “the Trinity.” 

The Trinity, a non-scriptural word that is a figure of speech, is an effort to speak of the variety of our experience of God as family relationships: father and son. By its very nature, love gives.  Love, in the threeness of God, gives. God gives to us both jointly and individually.  The church “appropriates”:

• · To the Father - the work of creation

• · To the Son - the work of redemption and the revelation of God’s love.

• · To the Holy Spirit - the work of sanctification

The catechism told us correctly that we are made in God’s image and likeness.  So, community/relationship is central to human life as well. Loving is at the very heart of being human and becoming divine. If we are made in the image and likeness of God, then we are capable of being God-like in our giving to others, too.

What does the feast of the Holy Trinity have to say to us? It tells us about: Being creative - like the Father. Coming up with creative solutions to our own and others’ difficulties. It challenges us to be creative in our lives.

Being redemptive - like the Son. Each of us has individual talents that empower us, like Jesus, to free others from bondage, to free others from loneliness, to free a neighbor or relative from need.

Being a sanctifier - that is tricky, because there is only one sanctifier, the Holy Spirit. One of the easiest forgotten truths of our faith is that we can make neither ourselves nor others holy. So, what is our part in sanctification? We can help sanctify:

• · By removing obstacles that block the work of the spirit who alone sanctifies;

• · By being flexible and re-arranging work-schedules so that a spouse can more easily get to Mass;

• · By resisting peer pressure and stepping up for our need to worship our loving, Trinitarian God;

• · By refusing social gatherings that impact our worship of God.            

• · We can protect our children from invasive, weekend sports schedules;

• · We can protect our families by overseeing their TV entertainment and computer use.  By driving to mass our neighbors’ children who might not otherwise be able to go.

• · By encouraging someone whose faith is getting blurry by being present as a catholic Christian friend.

The Trinity is not only “mystery;” it is also agenda; it is not only a home, but also our destiny.

Many of these things we already do; others we may need to think about and work on - in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit

Pentecost Sunday (May 23, 2021)

John and Luke have two quite different timelines for the event: Pentecost. In John’s version, the event takes place in the evening of Easter, the same day as the resurrection. Luke, in his acts of the apostles, tells us that the Holy Spirit came fifty days after the feast of the Passover that had been celebrated on Holy Thursday. Pentecost was a Jewish feast of thanksgiving to god for both the wheat harvest and the giving of the law on mount Sinai. Two different scenarios.  Conflict? Dissension?

I remember a scholarly convert who became a catholic after reading such contradictions in scripture. He said that differences in reporting gave credibility to scripture.  In real life, eyewitnesses contradict each other; if the reports in scripture all agreed, he would have thought there was collusion, and he could not have believed. He would not have converted.

Red is the color of excitement - from red convertibles and red roses & valentines to red fire apparatus and even vestments. It is no wonder the scriptures favor fire for the presence of God. God appears to Moses in a burning bush; he leads the people as a cloud by day and a fire by night. God is described as a consuming fire that will destroy the enemies of the children of Israel. Jesus uses the dramatic image when he says, “I have come to light a fire on the earth; how I wish the blaze were ignited.”

We read in the acts of the apostles: “Suddenly there came from the sky a noise like a strong driving wind, and it filled the entire house in which they were.  Then there appeared to them tongues as of fire, which parted and came to rest on each one of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in different tongues, as the spirit enabled them to proclaim.” Jesus’ wish was fulfilled!  The blasé was ignited.

All who received the spirit worshiped together, shared their possessions with others according to their need.

The spirit lavished the presence and love of god on everyone present on Pentecost. Like champagne poured on the heads of all in a locker room after a championship, the spirit poured freely on all. The hero of the day gets swamped with champagne and hugs and high fives; but, so do the coach and the ones who sat on the bench, and the ones on injured reserve and the trainers. When there is great joy, no one cares who gets in on the celebration.

The disciples had been huddled in terror in the upper room; they now charge out as fiery preachers courageously proclaiming the risen Lord. Not only their words but also their very lives became proclamation. The time of shock and awe is over.  The age of the spirit is inaugurated as they preach, teach, heal, forgive enemies, and love all. 

Jesus sets fire to the world by sending his spirit. The spirit comes to make a tired world into a new creation. The spirit fires up the disciples to continue the work that Jesus began. Without that fire, we are “the bland leading the bland.” Going nowhere.

Our bishops have made the first of two targets for evangelization the already baptized.  Why? Because many have lost the fire of enthusiasm - have become “cool” become lukewarm. The second target of evangelization is our neighbor, the one Jesus talks about in the Gospel.

The Holy Spirit reminds us - as Jesus said the Spirit would. The Spirit helps us bring back the vision of a personal relationship with Jesus, the relationship that the early Christians had - with fire in their hearts and love in their eyes.

What was most basic to the presence of the Holy Spirit? Paul, in Galatians says that the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. In 1 Corinthians, he speaks of other gifts: wisdom, faith, healing, miracles, prophecy, discernment of spirits, tongues and their interpretation. He emphasizes that all of the above are not for individual gratification, but for the common good, the community good, which is the common denominator of the gifts of the Spirit. 

The Holy Spirit is the living spirit of Jesus. All of the above gifts have in common the living of Jesus and the common good of all. The Holy Spirit is called the advocate, the consoler. The emerging sense of the Spirit is the strengthener.  She acts as a spiritual blood transfusion for each of us and all of us together.

Angelo Roncalli, Pope John XXIII, convoked the ecumenical council, Vatican II, in 1958 to be nothing less than “a new Pentecost,” which he prophetically believed that the church needed. How can we continue to be sources of that spirit of Pentecost today?

Ascension of the Lord (May 13/16, 2021)

We celebrate Jesus’ departure in his physical presence today, the solemnity of the Ascension.  Today marks the end of Jesus’ priceless, first stage of God’s saving plan in Jesus, the final chapter in Jesus’ physical presence in the history of salvation and the beginning of the second stage, which involves you and me. 

The narration of the ascension appears three times in the New Testament; we hear two of them in today’s readings. 

Mark wrote the earliest account, and it appears in the longer ending of his Gospel – an account that was added by another author later. The addition is considered part of the inspired word. Mark’s narrative is succinct and right to the point, only one sentence, his usual style and part of the reason that his Gospel is the shortest.

The seven last words of Jesus, the topic of many a Good Friday homily, are not his last words. We heard those today in Mark: “Go into the whole world and proclaim the Good News to all creation.”

The mission of Jesus is complete. It now is left to those standing there to take up his mission. Jesus makes it clear in his parting words that the initial mission to the Jews is not enough; it is to be expanded. He calls on his disciples to carry the Good News not simply to the Jews, but to the entire world. There is to be no partiality shown to any people or nation or individual. The disciples are not to serve any earthly kingdom, but the heavenly one.

The story of the church begins. It is a church where, at that time, the temple of Jerusalem still stands – and will for almost forty more years. It is a church that is surrounded by the oppression of the Roman Empire – and will for hundreds of years.  In the meantime, the church will begin to spread throughout that empire and beyond -- like the quietly growing mustard seed.

Luke, in his Acts of the Apostles, narrates an element that is included in neither his Gospel, nor in the Gospel of mark [from which Luke copied before copying got the name plagiarism and became a no-no]. Luke adds to the narration: “They were still gazing up into the heavens when two men dressed in white stood beside them. ‘Men of Galilee,’ they said, ‘Why do you stand here looking up at the skies…?’”

The apparent angels equivalently proclaim: “Don’t just stand there, do something.”  Perhaps that is a good question for us on this feast of the ascension.

Each of us is called by today’s readings to “do something.” The celebration of the one who inspires and energizes us will be next week, Pentecost. 

We are called to continue the mission that the disciples were given – each in our own way to spread by word and our example Jesus’ life-giving message.

Sixth Sunday of Easter (May 9, 2021)

Sixth Sunday of Easter (May 9, 2021)                                                        

Before we go into today’s readings, let’s recall last Sunday’s message of the biological image of Jesus’ intimacy with us: the parable of the vine and the branches. He taught that as the very life of the vine flows from the vine into the branches, so does the very resurrected life of Jesus flow from him into us.

Today, Jesus speaks more personally. Today’s beautiful letter from john reveals what Jesus’ life is: love. “God is love.” His life/love flows from him into us. It has been suggested that the word ‘love’ in our culture is a word in serious need of a bath.  It has become so overused, misused, and abused that it needs to be power washed to renew its sparkle.

This word ‘love appears in one form or another in this Sunday’s readings an amazing twenty times. God’s meaning of ‘preciousness,’ unconditional faithfulness needs to be our focus for ‘love.’ Our experience of human love is ideally a reproduction of it. Too often, it is a poor reflection.

Is there perhaps a short circuit in our love lives? Our personal experience includes that we are conditioned to think we need to earn love. That has been the experience of every one of us at some level:

·        love from our teachers earned for good grades and conduct;

·        love from our employers earned for success in the work place; 

·        love from parents earned by some, unfortunately, for being ‘good’ boys and girls.

To the extent that our personal experience is earning love, it is a stretch for us to accept that god does not work like that. It was Basil Hume who said that it is easier to believe in God than to believe that God loves us. The simple truth is we cannot earn God’s love. We are blessedly “stuck” with it.  God has loved us first.

That wonderful revelation: God is love, is who God is and what God does. We hear: “Love, then, consists in this: not that we have loved God, but that he has loved us.” That is the heart of today’s readings. Love exists not because we love, but because we are loved.  God loves us whether we recognize it, whether we accept it or not.

We hear in the Gospel: “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you.” The depth of that statement is often missed.  Jesus is saying that the same, intimate relationship that he experiences with his Father is also passed on to us disciples. Living that reality of being unconditionally loved empowers us, as Jesus says, to “love one another as I love you.” We are part of this magnificent circle of love with the Father, Jesus, and one another.

Jesus taught this best at the Last Supper, when he washed the feet of his disciples and gave us example of how to be towards one another -- in service. Then he turned around and gave himself to us in Eucharist, allowing us to commune with him in word and body/blood in the communion called holy.

We need to make this reality of God’s love an essential part of our ongoing dialogue with ourselves. We all have this constant dialogue in our heads and hearts. It is where we talk to ourselves, where our self-image speaks out.  It is here that the conviction of God’s love for us needs to prevail. We need to bask in his love. We become empowered to respond in love both to him and with one another. We convey to others the love we have in our hearts, completing the circle of love.  This is God’s plan.

If Lenten practice was self-examination, Easter practice needs to be this life-giving, life-enabling exercise in instilling in us the ever-present conviction of God’s love for us. 

Our challenge is to appreciate, to really accept that God loves us unconditionally -- just as we are. 

Today’s Gospel is the very core of Jesus’ last supper discourse. We all need to keep this reality always in our ongoing dialogue with ourselves, so that we may constantly listen and lovingly live.

Fifth Sunday of Easter (May 2, 2021)

Fifth Sunday of Easter (May 2, 2021)

Today’s Gospel comes from the long talk by Jesus at the last supper in John’s Gospel. It is appropriate for the Easter season. It sets before us the type of close, ongoing relationship into which the risen Jesus invites his disciples.

Chapter 15 of John’s Gospel introduces the allegory of the vine. The vine has a long history. Isaiah  [5:1-7] makes it very clear:  “For the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel and the people of Judah are his pleasant planting.”  

The vine is the Jewish national symbol of the relationship between God and Israel.  The pillars of the Jerusalem temple were carved with vines and branches thus setting the image in stone. It is like the symbol of the Bald Eagle or the American flag to us.

The famous “I am” sayings of John’s Gospel always reveal some aspect of Jesus’ divine identity. When Jesus says: “I am the true vine, and my father is the vine grower” and  “I am the vine; you are the branches,” he makes a soul-shattering statement to Jewish ears and to our ears. He reveals the intimate relationship between himself and the father and indicates that he replaces the temple with himself as the place for worship, for he becomes the very source of life for people who accept him. [Relationship in the vertical dimension]. 

Secondly, remember Paul’s metaphor of the body-of-Christ where we are all related as interdependent parts of the same body with Christ as our head, the one who drives the body. Here, we have john’s version of the identical idea:  the vine reminds us that we are interconnected not only to the source of our life, Jesus the Lord; we are also interconnected with one another. We need both Jesus and each other to bear fruit, the goal of discipleship. [Relationship in the horizontal dimension.]

The Jews of Jesus’ days were people of the land – practical, simple people. For abstract ideas, like what we call “sanctifying grace,” Jesus used common experience nouns, “life” and “light;” for abstract verbs like “transcends” or “interconnects,” Jesus used the verb  “lives in.” The verb “lives in” appears four times in four verses.   [vv. 4,5,6,7]

If Jesus did anything everyone can agree upon, it is that he gathered a community around him. The model of leadership/followership here is not hierarchy, power, authoritativeness; it is community. Concerned togetherness is essential for the very life of his followers.

We derive our spirit-life from Jesus, the vine. We are, at once, united to Jesus and to each other. We celebrate this fact vividly at the Easter vigil: the light/ life of the paschal candle, the symbol of Jesus, is passed to us individually. With our small candles, we share that light with others around us.

Interrelating, “lives in,” is essential for us. We have both Paul’s image of mystical body and John’s image of the vine and the branches to make that clear. Both reveal rootedness in Jesus the Lord and unity with one another.

By the grace of God, we live in an era that has evolved far beyond the people in scripture in the ability to express abstract ideas. We can more readily appreciate the awesome truth that Jesus teaches. We can more clearly understand what Ignatius of Antioch meant by: “God became man, so that man might become God.”  

Jesus’ consummate gift to us is a sharing in his life. Theology calls it “sanctifying grace,” a term that lacks the dynamism of actually sharing in Jesus’ resurrected life. We are called to live that life with enthusiasm. The Holy Spirit whom we shall celebrate in a few weeks at Pentecost kindles that enthusiasm.

Let us Live Jesus!