*****
“Leave me Lord, for I am a sinful man.”
We have every reason to believe that Peter was a very good fisherman. He would know how, when and where to catch fish. He would know all the good spots. He would know when to stick with a place; he would know when to move on to another. Perhaps most importantly, Peter would know that even the most successful fisherman sometime comes home empty-handed.
Enter Jesus - a new face and a new name. While apparently a great teacher and healer, he was the last person from whom Peter would expect to receive fishing advice. Can anyone fault Peter for his initial skepticism?
Still, he relented. For whatever reason - an intuition about Jesus' power, a desire to show Jesus up - to the deep water of the lake Peter and his colleagues returned. And as we know, his reluctant second effort was rewarded far beyond his expectations.
This sudden and mysterious turn of events prompts Peter to consider his own sinfulness. In particular, perhaps his belief - understandably so - that he knew far more about fishing than Jesus. Perhaps his hope of embarrassing Jesus; perhaps his own pride or bullheadedness; perhaps his resentment that Jesus had, in fact, been right.
Seems that Peter wasn't so perfect after all.
And yet, it is precisely this imperfect person (along with other imperfect people) whom Jesus called to learn and share his love. Why? St. Francis de Sales hits the nail on the head:
“Although he was subject to so many imperfections, St. Peter was chosen because, notwithstanding his defects, he was always filled with courage to take a second look at a situation.”
Peter had the courage to listen - however reluctantly - to Jesus' advice. Peter had the courage - after all, he would have appeared foolish to his colleagues to take direction from a carpenter’s son - to consider Jesus' suggestion. More personally, Peter had the courage to confront his own arrogance. Ultimately, Peter had the courage to consider that sometimes God's wisdom flies in the face of human expectation and experience.
We, like Peter, are imperfect people. We have our share of defects and shortcomings. Yet, Jesus calls us, too, as we are, to be his disciples. Take heart; have the courage to name your gifts; have the courage to name your sinfulness; have the courage to learn from others; most importantly, have the courage to follow God's invitation no matter where, when or how it leads you.
*****
“They begged him that they might touch only the tassel on his cloak; and as many as touched it were healed.”
People continued to bring the sick – and themselves – to be healed by Jesus. The account in today’s selection from the Gospel of Mark provides an interesting detail: folks coming to Jesus for help believed that if they merely touched his clothing, they would experience healing power.
It would seem that just a little bit of Jesus – even the smallest touch of Jesus – went a very long way.
In his Treatise on the Love of God, Francis de Sales wrote:
“Among sacred lovers there are some who so completely devote themselves to exercises of divine love that its holy fire devours and consumes their life…” (Book VII, Chapter 10, p. 41)
Jesus Christ is the ultimate example of this love. His love for others was so intense that even the smallest sampling of it changed forever the lives of those he touched.
Today, will the same be said of our love?
*****
“How lovely is your dwelling place, Lord, mighty God!”
In his Introduction to the Devout Life, Francis de Sales observed:
“Remember that God is not only in the place where you are: God is present in a most particular manner in your heart and in the very center of your spirit.” (Part II, Chapter 2, p. 85)
Clearly, this truth was completely lost on many of the Pharisees and scribes. If they had realized that God dwells less in temples, laws, precepts and traditions and more within and among human beings, then they would have put their priorities in order. However, they were more concerned about protecting their own ways of doing things at the expense of promoting the ways of God, The result? The Pharisees and scribes became stumbling blocks for themselves and others when it came to recognizing that God’s preferred and most personal dwelling place is with and among God’s people.
Each of us is a dwelling place of the Lord. God dwells in us, and we dwell in God.
Will the ways that we relate to others just this day give witness to this truth?
*****
“Nothing that enters one from outside can defile that person; but the things that come out from within are what defile…”
In a conference to the Sisters of the Visitation (on the “Obligations of the Constitutions”), Francis de Sales counseled:
“The rules do not command many fasts, but nevertheless some individuals may for their own special needs practice extra fasts; let those who do fast not despise those who eat, nor let those who eat despise those who fast. And the same, for that matter, in all other things that are neither commanded or forbidden, let each person abound in one’s own sense, that is, let each person enjoy and use one’s liberty, without judging or interfering with others who do not do as they do, or trying to persuade others that their ways are the best…”
Are you undecided about things from which to fast and abstain? Here’s a suggestion: how about trying to fast and abstain from the temptation to compare ourselves to others?
*****
"Lord, even the dogs under the table eat the children's scraps."
We see a test of wills in today’s Gospel. A local woman is determined to wrest a miracle for her daughter from Jesus, but Jesus seems equally determined to deny her request. While Jesus appears committed to saying “no” to this woman’s plea, the woman appears equally determined to refuse to take “no” for an answer. Clearly, this scene has all the makings of a “Syrophoenician stand-off”.
In both cases, Jesus and the woman are persistent. They are both determined to persevere. In his Treatise on the Love of God, Francis de Sales wrote:
“Our Savior attaches to the great gift of perseverance the supreme gift of eternal glory, as He has said, ‘The one who shall persevere to the end shall be saved.’ This gift is simply the sum total and sequence by which we continue in God’s love up to the end, just as the education, raising and training of a child are simply the acts of care, help and assistance…Perseverance is the most desirable gift we can hope for in this life. It is in our power to persevere. Of course, I do not mean that our perseverance takes its origin from our power. On the contrary, I know that it springs from God’s mercy, whose most precious gift it is.” (Book 3, Chapter 4, p. 174)
Jesus credits the Syrophoenician woman’s persistence – her perseverance – for granting her request to heal her daughter. Today, how determined are we in our attempts to bring our needs – and the needs of those we love – to the Lord?
*****
“People brought to him a deaf man who had a speech impediment and begged him to lay his hand on him.”
Jesus was only too happy to grant their request to heal a deaf man with a speech impediment. As we see in the Gospel account today, however, Jesus did much more than simply lay his hand on him. He took him apart from the crowd. Jesus placed his finger in the man’s ears and then spitting, Jesus placed his finger on the man’s tongue.
Jesus healed people in a variety of ways. Sometimes he simply said a word. Sometimes he gave a direct command. Sometimes he followed someone to their home. Sometimes he healed from far away. Sometimes he healed in public. And sometimes – as seen in today’s account from Mark’s Gospel – Jesus’ healing is private: intimate, up-close and personal.
Ask yourself this question: how might you need Jesus to heal you today? Then, ask yourself another question: how might Jesus need you to heal someone else today?
*****
In his Treatise on the Love of God, Francis de Sales wrote:
“Compassion, sympathy, commiseration or pity is simply an affection that makes us share the sufferings and sorrows of ones we love and draws the misery that they endure into our own hearts…” (Book V, Chapter 4, p. 243)
As we see clearly in today’s Gospel, Jesus’ compassion is more than an affection. It is more than a feeling. While he clearly makes the neediness of others his own, Jesus does more than that - he addresses the neediness. Jesus satisfies the hunger. Jesus heals the pain. Jesus breaks the chains. Jesus confronts the injustice.
Every time Jesus’ compassionate heart is moved, something good happens to others.
Today, will the same be said of our hearts?
