Reflections
The 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 25, 2010
There is an elephant in the room, and maybe we should acknowledge it and bring it out into the light. Here it is: we have asked and not received, sought and not found, knocked and heard the door locking from the inside. Haven’t we? And so today we hear Jesus commanding us to keep asking, keep seeking, keep knocking, and we find hope again. We believe again. We ask again.
We try to bargain with God like Abraham did. But Jesus has promised us that God wants to give us more than we even know how to ask for. And sometimes it turns out that we were actually asking for a stone, and God gave us fish instead.
Suffering. It’s probably the greatest barrier for us in our search for God. Where was God when my dad died last year? We prayed so hard for my sister to be cured, but God didn’t listen. God could have saved all those kids from that car accident, but just didn’t.
The search for meaning in our suffering is the elephant in the room. But the Holy Spirit is in the room too, the great and lasting Comforter whom Jesus promises is the reward for all who pray. Keep praying, and watch the Holy Spirit work. Keep seeking, and find the Holy Spirit waiting for you in those dark corners.
I will keep knocking until the day the Holy Spirit opens the door to eternity, where every tear will be undone and Jesus, my all-loving Savior, returns to me a hundredfold all the loves I thought I’d lost.
Do you feel the Holy Spirit helping you to overcome
disappointment and grief?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
The Story and You is now online! Join the conversation at www.thestoryandyou.com
The 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time - July 18, 2010
It’s tempting to talk about Mary and Martha today. There is so much to notice in this story, but my eye keeps going back to Abraham, sitting in the entrance of that hot tent in the heat of the day. And here is what keeps catching my eye: Looking up, Abraham saw three men standing nearby.
He was sitting, looking out at the endless, silent desert. He must have been able to see miles ahead, and the approach of three strangers could have been observed for hours before they arrived outside his tent. But, no, he looked up and saw them. No camels kicking up telltale dust three hours earlier. No neighboring Bedouins calling out that strangers were coming. He looked up, and there they were.
Is it possible that those three “men”―the angels posted with God to announce the birth of Isaac―had been standing at the entrance to Abraham’s tent from the beginning of time? What great cloud of witnesses surrounds us, waiting for us to look up and see? What miracles hover near us, waiting for us to notice?
Which brings us back to the Gospel today. Mary looked up and saw Jesus in her home, and she never took her eyes off of him. She showed the greatest hospitality by making room for him in her soul and spirit― by truly seeing who it was who was sent to her, and never leaving his side. She teaches us the meaning of the mystic’s sense of prayer: Prayer is gazing at God, who is gazing at you.
Do you think you have ever encountered an angel?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
The Story and You is now online! Join the conversation at www.thestoryandyou.com
The 15th Sunday in Ordinary Time - July 11, 2010
The trouble with Luke’s magnificent story of love of neighbor is that you can’t take it too literally. After all, serial killers like Ted Bundy have found their victims by pretending to be crippled and in need of help to their car. Roadside warnings near detention centers send a chill up the spine: do not pick up hitchhikers.
But one scorching summer day in the Utah desert 30 years ago, some travelers driving by spotted a very thin young man resting on the ground next to his bike. Something wasn’t right. He looked gaunt and weak. They circled back and asked out the window Are you okay? But he was too weak to answer. And this dad and mom, with their two children in tow, leapt from their car, wiped his face with cool water, placed him and his bike in the car, carefully gave him food and water, and drove him to the rectory of the first Catholic Church they found.
The Spanish-speaking housekeeper cried Oh Dios! and directed them to take him into the cool back bedroom. She cared for him for several days until he recovered from his extreme heat stroke and dehydration.
Where are they now, that observant family that noticed that something didn’t seem quite right and took the time to circle back? Where are that tender housekeeper and the kind priest who gave him shelter and comfort?
Because, as my 22nd wedding anniversary approaches, I want to be able to thank them for saving the life of the young man who, years later, would save mine.
Have you ever experienced life-saving help from a stranger?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
The Story and You is now online! Join the conversation at www.thestoryandyou.com
The 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time - July 4, 2010
It’s a beautiful summer holiday weekend in Colorado, and we have friends visiting from Iowa. They’ve spent every possible moment up in the mountains, hiking, rafting, and gawking at the bicyclists riding up Mount Evans.
I brag that America the Beautiful was written here. I look to the west and see the purple mountain majesties that have brought me to prayer every morning of my life.
It’s hard to live in a constant state of gratitude and awe. My sister is the best you’ve ever seen. We’ll be driving along the San Diego harbor―she lives in that spectacular city―and she’ll stop the car to make sure we are all thanking God for the water, and the ships, and the seagulls. And it turns out we are.
This land is our land, from the redwood forest to the Gulf Stream waters. Oh, God, forgive us our trespasses against Your Gulf Stream waters.
Paul bore the marks of Jesus on his body. America bears scars on her body too. Our rivers, our forests, our seas and our skies bear the wounds of our selfish decisions, our appalling deficit of dreams. We know better now, and we’ll do better.
It’s nice that the holiday lands right on Sunday this year. It gives us the collective opportunity to ask forgiveness for what we have done, and what we have failed to do. And then, in our Sunday sanctuary of time, we will bless and thank our Creator for the endless gifts of America the Beautiful.
Where is your favorite place to pray in your home state?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
The Story and You is now online! Join the conversation at www.thestoryandyou.com
The 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time - June 27, 2010
I’ve got good news. Those dusty archaeologists (bless them) who spend their lives digging in the scorching Mediterranean sun have given us a very plausible (and comforting) explanation of that MOST unsettling command in today’s Gospel: let the dead bury their dead. . It’s simply this: the burial time for the dead in Jesus’ day was an entire year. After burying the dead immediately (as we saw in the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ own death) the sons “sit shi’va” for seven days. (So the disciple who asks to bury his father before following Jesus wouldn’t even have been around if the death had happened within that week---he would have been at home fulfilling this responsibility.)
But then the corpse is left in the tomb for eleven months, after which the relatives re-bury the decomposed body by taking the bones and placing them in a burial box, an ossuary, and placing it back in the tomb, along with all the other family dead who are in various stages of burial. The tomb continues to fill with the other dead from the family, buried for the first time and then again a year later.
So...what a great relief to consider that Jesus was thinking of all those dead, buried with the other dead, whose death demands kept the sons in endless burial cycles. Let the dead bury their dead. Be at peace. My heavenly Father knows where all the bodies are buried. In just a short time you will see for yourselves what God has planned for My tomb, and yours, and theirs too. Be at peace.
So be at peace.
What are the burial customs in your family?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
The Story and You is now online! Join the conversation at www.thestoryandyou.com
The 12th Sunday in Ordinary Time - June 20, 2010
Kathleen, you wouldn’t care so much what people think of you if you knew how seldom they do. That was my Irish father talking, telling his self-absorbed adolescent daughter one of the hardest facts of life: people aren’t really paying any attention to you. Oh. Good to know.
But it turns out that Jesus cares what other people think of him too, and asks out loud, who do the crowds say I am? Is he John the Baptist, somehow come back from the dead? Or maybe Elijah, who went to the heavens in a chariot of fire and hasn’t been seen since? Their answers reveal the kind of Mediterranean chatter and interest in the outsider that now seems to belong only in the past.
But Jesus (the Christ) wants us to think about him, to pay attention to him, to have an opinion about him, to gossip with our friends about him. He knows that the more attention we pay to someone the more space in our lives that person will take.
Let’s revive the lost art of spiritual chatter. Let’s gossip with the whole Church about this Jesus, and who we say he is. Let’s breathe on the smoldering wicks of the Scriptures and see if we can start some fires. One billion Christians heard this Gospel today. What’s the buzz?
Let’s get talking, Church. Because, as five-year-old Elliott said to God, I think of you sometimes even when I’m not praying.
Register at www.thestoryandyou.com and jump into the conversation.
Who do you say he is?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
The 11th Sunday in Ordinary Time - June 13, 2010
I have lots of stories about how good it feels to be forgiven. Here’s a recent one:
One bitter January afternoon I was rushing to leave for a weekend retreat seventy miles away. Of course I was late, and of course I locked all my retreat materials in the trunk of the car and threw the car keys in for good measure.
ARGH!! It was getting later and darker and colder. I drove our second car to the nearby Safeway where my husband worked. Quick!! Give me your keys!! I don’t have time to explain! And as I was rushing out I sort of heard him say, Don’t lock me out!!
And it wasn’t until hours later, as I was settling into my cozy bed at the retreat house, that I realized that I had done exactly that. I had left Ben’s keys in the house and used mine to lock the doors. And of course neither of us had a cell phone.
So out of bed I flew, into the dark night and dark roads of the Colorado mountains. I pictured Ben shivering in the garage or sleeping on the neighbor’s couch. And here’s the moment of forgiveness: I walked up to our front porch and opened the (unlocked) door. A cozy warm fire was burning in the fireplace. A sleepy voice called to me from the bedroom. I knew you’d be back.
Thank God for hide-a-keys. And all the opportunities a lifetime provides us to grow in the kind of love and gratitude that only comes from being let off the hook.
What stories can you remember about being forgiven much?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
The Story and You is now online! Join the conversation at www.thestoryandyou.com
The Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ - June 6, 2010
It must have been hot at that deserted place in Bethsaida when the crowds came out to see Jesus—to hear him---to be touched and healed by him. And when the day was drawing to a close they must have started to feel uncomfortable. They were hungry, but they wouldn’t leave the place where Jesus was. They couldn’t take the chance that he might be gone when they came back.
These days it’s the Job Fairs that draw the huge crowds. The sad numbers of unemployed form a line that snakes around the block and up the stairs and out into the parking lots. They wait in the cold and the heat for a chance to fill out still another job application. And even when it rains they won’t leave their precious place in line—they can’t take the chance that others will stay and get the few jobs left.
I think I saw Jesus standing with them the other day. He and some of his friends had put together some sandwiches and coffee and were passing them around. The crowd was huge, but it looked like they’d all received more than they needed.
I saw him again last week at the Cancer Center. One of the patients there had just received a poor prognosis. Everyone around her---the doctors, the nurses, the patients---rallied around to comfort and strengthen her.
And I saw him in the news, working in Haiti and Chile, comforting the afflicted and holding them close. And, always, I see him in the breaking of the bread.
Happy Feast Day, Church. He is really, really Present.
On this Feast of the Eucharist, in what ways do you see Christ Really Present in the world?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
The Story and You is now online! Join the conversation at www.thestoryandyou.com
The Most Holy Trinity - May 30, 2010
Who are the people who decided the first reading for this Sunday? I want to thank them personally for choosing that beautiful passage from the book of Proverbs (8:22-31) as the best section of the entire Old Testament to portray the work of God the Creator. Did you hear it? The creator of the universe had a playmate, a friend who played on the surface of the earth, who was with God at first, before the earth. And of course that playmate was the Holy Spirit.
Ah, Wisdom (Holy Spirit). You were God’s partner when the mountains settled into place, and when the limits of the sea were measured out you were there, delighting God day by day.
The other two readings today give us the Second and Third Persons of the Trinity as we usually think of them: Jesus, the peace-giver, and the Holy Spirit, the truth-giver. But oh, how lovely to think of the First Person through the poetry of Proverbs---the delighted, artistic, musical, wondrous creator of all that is. Our universe is shot through with Wisdom,, and we live in its endless mysteries.
Of course, our beloved dead whom we remember and honor this Memorial Day weekend know that Wisdom now in a much richer way than we who wait in joyful hope for the day we are reunited with them. They know the Trinity intimately, as the never-ending love of God drawing us home.
Do you feel a special closeness to one of the Persons of the Trinity?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
The Story and You is now online! Join the conversation at www.thestoryandyou.com
Pentecost Sunday - May 23, 2010
A PENTECOST SEQUENCE
Come, oh Holy Spirit, come!
And make our timid hearts your own.
In Juarez, blow your mighty wind.
In Haiti, Spirit, enter in.
In war zones here and far away
Let your healing love hold sway.
Change our hearts, our hates, our lives.
Touch the place where meanness thrives.
Come, oh Spirit, open wide
The doors we like to hide behind.
The wounds we hold, the hurts we feed―
Help us, Spirit, to be freed.
And on this Feast Day, give us light
To feel His presence in the night.
Our sadness gone, our faith restored
Proclaims that Jesus Christ is Lord.
Can you remember a time when the Spirit let you see that God was near?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
The Story and You is now online! Join the conversation at www.thestoryandyou.com
The Ascension of the Lord - May 16, 2010
To be honest, we still don’t really know what happened. We saw him crucified on that tree. We watched the whole terrifying thing from a distance. People are saying that he turned to the thief next to him and told him that he would be with him that very day in Paradise. And then of course we all saw the eclipse of the sun, and even those of us at a safe distance heard him cry out, Father, into your hands I commend my spirit. And then he breathed his last.
But I’m sure you’ve heard what happened next. People are talking about it all over Jerusalem and even up in Galilee. His body is gone from the tomb. He has appeared to two of our number as they were returning to Emmaus. Cephas saw him too, and then he came to us while we were hiding in the same room where we had our last meal with him. And he wasn’t a ghost, he was really alive! And we are still incredulous with joy! Somehow he opened our memories and our understanding. Life as we knew it is completely different now.
Today we were with him again. He led us out towards Bethany and said the most beautiful words to us. We are to be his witnesses, even to the ends of the earth. And he promised to send us power from the Holy Spirit in just a few days! We don’t know what that means, but we won’t leave the city until it happens. What will the spirit do? How will we be changed? Is it possible that, once again, a great miracle will happen here? We wait in joyful hope.
Sharing God's Word at Home:
As we anticipate the great feast of Pentecost, what gifts of the Spirit would you most like to experience in a more powerful way?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
6th Sunday of Easter - May 9, 2010
Don’t you hate it when people misquote you or mislead other people about you? Think how infuriating it must have been for Paul and Barnabas when those “brothers” from Judea showed up in Antioch and tried to upset the peace of the Gentiles there who had received Christ. What? You were baptized but not circumcised? No, no, that’s not what Jesus demands. He expects all Gentile men to behave like Jews if they want to be saved. We know what Jesus wants. We’re the authorities. Don’t listen to Paul. What does he know? He never even knew Jesus.
It’s scary to think about what would have happened to the world if Paul had caved into that. If he hadn’t trusted completely in the Spirit’s guidance to open the way of salvation to the Gentiles, the Jesus Movement would certainly have died out before the end of the first century. Instead, the Holy Spirit inspired him to ask an entirely revolutionary thought: could it be that Jesus is for all of us? And once he knew the answer to that, nothing could stop him from bringing Christ to the Gentiles of the ancient world, and so to us.
I guess that’s the Spirit’s signature work―to open our hearts wide enough for Jesus to do something wonderful and new. Something new. I like the sound of that. Pentecost awaits.
Sharing God's Word at Home:
Can you sense the Spirit urging you to do something new and wonderful?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
5th Sunday of Easter - May 2, 2010
Ah...May. Is there a more delicious celebration of the senses? And how on earth does it all happen? The bush outside our window has been empty and barren and boring for months and months, and just in time for Earth Day last week it popped open with the most gorgeous pinks and whites. And now all the trees on the block are clapping their hands and saying, Ha!! Look what we've been getting ready for all winter! And we did it right in front of your eyes and you didn't even notice!! Surprise!!!
But these days my husband Ben, whose carbon footprint is nearly undetectable, is staring with astonishment as I start up the car for the one-mile drive to church. Uh oh. I guess the world's resources aren't mine alone. Even the ancient author of the Book of Revelation knew that someday the former heaven and earth would pass away, but why should I contribute to that event before God's own time?
Listen to Pope Benedict XVII in his address for the World Day of Peace 2010: We must ensure that human activity does not compromise the fruitfulness of the earth, for the benefit of people now and in the future...If you want to cultivate peace, protect creation... As we care for creation we realize that God, through creation, cares for us.
I love that. I remember all those long talks I had with God as I rode my Schwinn through the apple-blossomed Mays of my youth. God was caring for me then, mediating grace through the exquisite beauty of nature.
Okay, maybe just this once I'll try biking to church.
Google World Day of Peace 2010 to read the entire papal address
Sharing God's Word at Home:
In what ways do you experience God's care for you as you care for creation?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
4th Sunday of Easter - April 25, 2010
Gospel reading Jn 10:27-30
What profoundly Good News the Gospel is for those who are poor in spirit. Listen to the stories of those who stepped into baptismal fonts at Easter Vigils all around the world this year:
I was hungry for more in my life, and learning about Jesus fed me.
No one ever exposed me to the spiritual life when I was growing up. When my friend talked to me about his faith, I knew how much I wanted that for myself.
My soul craved the beauty and depth of the Catholic faith. For example, no one ever gave me saints before. Now I have all of them as my friends. And, of course, there is the Eucharist.
Sometimes I wonder if we “cradle Catholics” are like the Jews whom Paul and Barnabas encountered on their missionary journeys. Nobody could give them anything new and wonderful because they were already the “experts” on how God works. And so they missed Jesus, the fulfillment of everything they had longed for! But the soul-starved Gentiles, empty in a Roman world of gods and goddesses, recognized their Savior and rejoiced that they could be part of him.
Listen to the stories of those who have just joined us. They are wake-up calls for all of us who were carried to the font as babies and have never truly appreciated the faith for which others have longed.
Sharing God's Word at Home:
Who are the people who have formed you in the faith?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
3rd Sunday of Easter - April 18, 2010
Gospel reading: Jn 21:1-19
He came to us again this morning. We were out in the boat, the seven of us, still fishing. Still fishing, even after everything that’s happened! But we were restless. Afterwards, we talked about how we had sensed him there by the water, sensed a change in the way the sea moved when he was near. Mary of Magdala told us it must have been the same feeling she had when she went back to the tomb that day. First she saw two angels in the tomb, but she sensed that Someone even greater was there. She turned, and there he was, waiting for her. But even she didn’t recognize him at first! But of course when he called her by her name―that beloved voice, saying her name―she knew it could only be him.
That’s how we felt, too. It could only be Jesus calling us, telling us where to find the fish. Only Jesus at the charcoal fire as we, famished, pulled our huge catch to shore. Only Jesus loving Simon Peter back to life.
Do we love you, Jesus? You know we do. And we promise to keep fishing, pulling all the nations, all who will ever recognize and love your voice, into your wide net of love. Only you know how far and high and wide and deep is your endless net. Only you know where all those who secretly long for you are waiting.
Only you know how hungry we are.
Sharing God's Word at Home:
Do you know someone who is longing to be found by the Church?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
Divine Mercy Sunday - April 11, 2010
Gospel reading - Jn 20:19-31
Mercy. Can you feel it? It’s getting ready to explode all around us. This cold, long winter is finally giving way to spring. Without seeing it, we believed that new life was secretly budding on trees that, just a short time ago, appeared forever barren. Some of us have needed to touch the branches ourselves, to put our hands on the tiny buds, to hold the tiny crocus peeking out of the ground. But even our winter-hard hearts know mercy when we see it.
Resurrection is tricky business. Our eyes tell us one thing―no; let’s not even mention the messages of death that want to hijack our joy. They get enough of our spirit, right? But still, we could believe the Easter Gospel so much more easily if we had been in that upper room, or at the empty tomb, or one of those who were healed by the shadow of Peter, the Forgiven One.
We trust the testimony of the eyewitnesses, of course. But how much more blessed is our own experience of the Risen One! We see him and know him whenever mercy, undeserved and so desperately desired, whispers our name. So watch carefully and remember what you have seen, and what is happening, and what will happen afterwards.
Mercy abounds.
Sharing God's Word at Home:
In what ways have you experienced mercy so great that you knew that Jesus was alive?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
Easter Sunday - April 4, 2010
Our story seems like nonsense, and a lot of people don’t believe us. But the women who came to the tomb found it empty. Peter and the disciple Jesus loved found it empty. And since that day, we have experienced the Risen Lord too. We didn’t see it ourselves, but we know the tomb is empty.
And so we will no longer seek the living among the dead. We won’t go to the places of death that lure us. We won’t smack our lips over the demise of those who have hurt us. We won’t be quick to take affront, quick to pin the blame, quick to take what’s ours.
Our hearts are changed this time. We will give a second chance to the barren fig tree. We will dance at the coming-home parties of all lost sons and daughters. We will demand a moratorium on all stone-throwing for the rest of our lives.
When Christ our life appears, we too will appear with him in glory. But it won’t be the fullness of Easter until all tombs are empty. So, come you flowers! Come, you bird nests and robin’s eggs! Come, you seeds beneath the winter snows! Bring in Easter again, with all its truths and abundant promises. And we’ll do our part to bring Easter too. For Christ our Passover Lamb has been raised.
Therefore, let us keep the feast.
Sharing God's Word at Home:
What “place of slavery” are you ready to leave for good?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
Palm/Passion Sunday - March 28, 2010
Gospel reading: Luke 22:14-23:56
Come with me for a moment. I want to show you something. Stand here with me in the courtyard of Caiaphas, the high priest. The temple guards have just arrested Jesus. Did you hear all that commotion when they marched him up from the Mount of Olives? Now they’ve got him in the house. See that man over there, the one with the thick accent? He was one of the followers of Jesus. But he keeps denying it. Let’s ask him for a third time: Surely you were with him, for you too are a Galilean, right? No, he says, I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Can you hear it? The rooster crowing? And now look! There is Jesus, looking out the window, staring at his friend. What is that message that passes between them? Jesus has pure love in his eyes. But his friend’s eyes are starting to turn red, and he runs far away from the fire, far away from Jesus, weeping so loudly we can still hear him.
Listen. The sound of his crying melts into the sounds of Jesus’ prayers―is that Psalm 88?― as he stands chained in the dungeon in the caves just beneath us.
Two thousand years later, millions of believers still come to this place. Roosters still crow in the courtyard. Pilgrims still climb down, down into the pit where Jesus was chained the night before he died. And the sound of Peter’s weeping meets our own.
Sharing God's Word at Home:
Why does the Church remember Peter as her first leader after his terrible betrayal?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
The 5th Sunday of Lent - March 21, 2010
Death by stoning must have been a terrible thing to endure, to participate in, and to watch. Even though the Bible speaks of it, there are very, very few instances of it actually being carried out. By the time the religious leaders in today’s Gospel pushed that poor woman towards Jesus they had already lost the right to put anyone to death. They knew she wouldn’t be killed because they didn’t have the legal right to kill her. However, hoping to indict Jesus by trapping him into a wrong answer, they reminded him that, according to Mosaic Law, she should be stoned. What did he have to say about that?
With the emergence of the Taliban and radical Islamist fundamentalism, execution by stoning has occurred in recent times. Although blessedly rare, there are records of it in Sudan, Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, Afghanistan, Nigeria and Iran. In 2008 a 13-year old Somalian girl was stoned to death for “adultery”. After her death it was revealed that she had actually been assaulted by a gang of men.
But here’s something fascinating: some Islamic scholars point out that stonings are supposed to be used only as a last resort, and only within those Islamic societies that have eliminated poverty and corruption. Since neither requirement has ever been fulfilled, no society may carry out that torture.
Has any society in history ever met that requirement? No wonder the elders led the way in walking away.
Sharing God's Word at Home:
Do you think this same requirement should be met before anyone is ever executed?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
The 4th Sunday of Lent - March 14, 2010
The most shameful thing happened yesterday. Do you remember last year when the younger son of my friend said to him, “Drop dead! I want my inheritance now.” And he gave it to him! This worthless son went off to Sepphoris - you know that big Roman city with the Greek theatres and the dancing girls?
And, you guessed it, he spent it all! Now he’s feeding pigs, this Jewish boy. And he’s starving, of course. So yesterday he shows up at the city gate. We hardly recognized him, that’s how skinny and sickly he looked. We all got together and marched to the gate. How dare this son come home? And we all waited for his father to say the words the rabbis have counseled for just such a situation: Get out of my sight. You are dead to me.
And what does this shameful, prodigal father do? He has rahamin―the love of a mother for her child in the womb―for this worthless son. He picks up his robe like a woman and runs to the gate before the rest of us could get there. He calls for a robe and a ring and shoes for this son who deserves nothing.
And you won’t believe this. He killed the fatted calf and is having a party for him tonight. The messenger just arrived with the invitation. Well, I’m not going. I tell you, I’m not going. Yes…of course I’m going.
Will you go with me?
Sharing God's Word at Home:
Have you ever swallowed your pride and gone to the party, and then been so happy you did?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
The 3rd Sunday of Lent - March 7, 2010
Jesus lived in dangerous times, and so do we. We know about mentally ill people with access to assault rifles and school playgrounds, and gruesome drug murders just across our borders. Jesus’ audience knew about Pilate’s murder of some Jews offering sacrifice, and of a tower that fell and killed eighteen people.
In trying to make sense of those random deaths, people asked Jesus if those who had been killed had been guilty of some sin for which God was punishing them. Jesus jumped at the opportunity to correct that long-held theology of his day. No, he said, bad things happen to good people every day. And Jesus offered no explanation for why that is.
He did, however tells them a parable about a barren fig tree that was long overdue to produce fruit. Cut it down said the owner! Give it another chance! said the gardener. And so the loving gardener fertilized it, and dug around it, and did everything possible to get it to come around.
Just like parents who won’t give up on their kids. Just like that Gardener in that original Garden, who called after Adam and Eve, looking for them, longing for them, even after they had rebelled.
Come now, oh God of second chances. Call us back again.
Sharing God's Word at Home:
What memories can you recall of being given a second chance?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
The 2nd Sunday of Lent - February 28, 2010
One hot August 6th in 1985, we were packed and ready to head home after another great summer of study at the University of Notre Dame. During the last few minutes of our last class, the brilliant Nathan Mitchell, OSB sent us home with these words:
Today is the Feast of the Transfiguration, that moment in time when the blinding light from heaven enveloped Jesus as he prayed on the sacred mountain. But we also remember today another flash of light, the white light of the atomic bomb at Hiroshima forty years ago today. So, as you travel home, pondering those two very different lights, I offer you this promise: if, through circumstances of famine, drought and war, the arsenals of the world are emptied into every city, every farmland, every mountain and ocean, and the earth is plunged into endless darkness, the light of the Transfigured Christ will burn brighter than that darkness.
I wonder if that's what Moses and Elijah said to Jesus as they spoke with him about his death and resurrection. He was on his way to Jerusalem to confront the Prince of Darkness at the Cross. I think they were reminding him that things would look very different in Easter Light.
Sharing God's Word at Home:
As you face suffering, what prayers or Gospel accounts give you strength?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
The 1st Sunday of Lent - February 21, 2010
Have you ever received a compliment in public, and secretly wondered what some of the people who know you best would say? They're the ones, after all, who know your secrets. They're the ones who saw all the stuff you threw into the closet before company arrived. They may be keeping a straight face during the tribute, but what are they really thinking?
We find out today that the Tempter - who was no doubt listening in when Jesus was baptized and the voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, whom I love" - immediately led Jesus into the desert in order to torment him about that Voice. You really believe you're God's Son? Prove it. Prove it. Prove it.
Talk about believing your own press! Satan thinks that all the kingdoms of the world are his to give over! Jesus knows to Whom they really belong, and he stands, in his hunger and his thirst, in authority over the author of lies.
Of course, Satan was listening in on the day of your baptism too. Never, never listen when he tries to tell you that you must have misunderstood the part about being God's child, forever beloved.
Sharing God's Word at Home:
In what ways can you sense the Tempter trying to take away your experience of being loved by God?
Kathy McGovern ©2010
The 6th Sunday in Ordinary Time - February 14, 2010
It's unlikely that anyone has wished you "Happy Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time!" And I doubt that any Hallmark store carries fancy cards celebrating the Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time. It is Valentine's Day, and many cards and chocolates will be proffered to loved ones on this day named after a martyred Roman priest whose feast has become synonymous with the celebration of love.
While St. Valentine's Day is in full swing, this is also the last Sunday before Lent begins. We'll celebrate Ash Wednesday in just a few days and renew our traditional Lenten practices of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. Sunday's Gospel can get us ready for that.
We're used to hearing Matthew's version of the Eight Beatitudes. Luke does things a little differently. He gives us only four beatitudes, paralleled by "woes." And Luke is very concrete. If you're poor, you'll be rich. If you're rich, you'll be poor. If you're hungry, you'll be filled, and vice versa. Luke's blessings and woes provide a good challenge for us as we enter into Lent. Our fasting and almsgiving are directed at balancing out that equation of emptying ourselves to help the poor and the hungry. In doing that, we can become a blessing to others, and at the same time, bring about less woe in this suffering world.
So maybe it is appropriate that we celebrate Valentine's Day (and the Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time) with a Gospel about blessings and woes. After all, true love isn't always easy; it demands some sacrifice. We'll be asked to sacrifice during Lent, placing a demand on our love. May we be as faithful as that martyred Roman priest, whose name has come to symbolize love, who imitated his Master, by giving up all.
©2010 Liturgical Publications Inc
The 5th Sunday in Ordinary Time - February 7, 2010
In the old Walt Kelly comic strip "Pogo" every time things would get to be too much for the main characters you could bet on seeing the "Gone fishin'" sign posted on a nearby tree. It was a literary device that Kelly used, to bring a break to the previous action and change the story line. In a way, Luke does the same thing in Sunday's Gospel. After the press of the crowds, Jesus convinces Simon to let him teach from the boat. Then he tells him to head out into deep water to fish. We've changed the subject from Jesus healing and preaching. Suddenly, we've "Gone fishin'," and while initially that's what is literally happening, it doesn't stay that way for long. It's a setup for the greater point of the story: "From now on you will be catching men."
It's not just Simon and the sons of Zebedee that get led into this convenient little scenario. Gospels are not just quaint stories. They are good news for us as well. Jesus gets into life with us, much like he got into Simon's boat. He tells us to go out a little farther, that is, to stretch our faith a little more. And even when we want to give up ("we have worked hard all night and have caught nothing") he tells us to cast into the deep. Trusting in him, we find that wondrous things happen as we witness to the meaning of Jesus in our lives. In the end, the example of our faith is to lead others to Jesus. That's where instead of fish, we'll be catching men and women.
It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if we hung a little "Gone fishin'" sign somewhere where we would see it every day, as long as we remember that our faith is the net, and from now on we're out there fishing to bring others to Christ.
©2010 Liturgical Publications Inc
The 4th Sunday in Ordinary Time - January 31, 2010
Did you tune out the second reading from Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians today? If you have been to a lot of weddings, it is likely that you've heard this paean to love at most of them. It's a favorite that gets chosen again and again. And because of that, the very familiarity of the words can lose their meaning. "'Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous?it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury?' Oh, yeah, I know that one; I've heard it all before. No need to listen."
Because of the context in which so often we hear those words (a marriage celebration) we sometimes miss what Paul is really trying to convey. The Corinthians were disputing among themselves what the better gifts of the Spirit were and who had the greater ones. Paul takes them to task, rather harshly, by telling them that all the prophecies and sacrifices are nothing compared to love.
We can feel righteous about many things, and our sense of justice can breed high expectations about equitable treatment and our rights in the world. We expect our "fair share" all the way around. Sometimes our "gift" turns out to be one of self-justification.
Paul turns those expectations on their head. His proclamation that love is the way suddenly put us in a different position. Love does not seek its own interests and it does not brood over injuries. These are not easy things to put into practice, but it is what is asked of us as believers in Christ. Maybe that's really why we tune out these words sometimes, because they are not easy to put into practice. But love is the essence of our faith-love of God, and love for one another.
©2010 Liturgical Publications Inc
The 3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time - January 24, 2010
Do you believe that you are supposed to be Christ in this world today? You're baptized in his name. You call yourself a Christian. You sign yourself with holy water and make the sign of the cross. Do you really believe that the Spirit of God is upon you?
Sometimes it's hard to conceive that. We can get ourselves into a baptismal inferiority complex: I'm not good enough to think that I can be Christ in this world. Only extraordinarily holy people-saints-can be like Christ. Thinking like that can lead to baptismal suicide-drowning in the waters of baptism without ever experiencing the power of the Resurrection. Paul doesn't mince any words this week when he tells the Corinthians, "You are Christ's body." He can say that because we have all been given of the one Spirit.
So, if you're baptized you have the Spirit of God, just like Jesus in today's Gospel. That Spirit of God sends us to bring good news to the poor, "to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free."
WOW! What a task. It sounds impossible. As a matter of fact, it is-if we tried to do it alone. But we don't have to. We can do all those things-and more-because we are united with all the baptized in the one body of Christ, through one Spirit. How we work that out in each community is part of the discernment of the Spirit that takes place, discovering the best ways to use each person's talents and gifts. God's Spirit is given for the common good, and it is in the community of faith that each of us discovers the ways that God wants us to fulfill our baptismal call.
©2010 Liturgical Publications Inc
The 2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time - January 17, 2010
It's the miracle that always captures the attention! Sight restored. Lame limbs healed. Hearing brought back. The dead raised. Water changed into wine. When you think about it, the first four are often routine today. Granted, the miracle doesn't happen every time. But many have their sight restored through cataract surgery. Broken bones that would have led to incapacitation are mended. Cochlear implants help some who did not hear. And even some people who were in cardiac arrest have been brought back. These medical miracles happen so regularly that we don't even advert to them as "miracles" anymore. They are "procedures." It's when things don't work that we get disappointed-and maybe even pray for a miracle.
Of course, we still haven't been able to crack that water-into-wine thing. It is still a bona fide miracle.Relying on the miraculous misses the point that John is trying to make in today's Gospel. The "sign" is not about how much wine we can get out of Jesus, but rather that he was revealing his glory, leading his disciples to belief. The signs in John's Gospel are again and again about faith, about coming to believe in Jesus.
Praying for the miraculous can lead to an increase of faith. But we can't let the miracle-or lack thereof-get in the way of faith. Instead, we can let our faith uncover the miraculous that already takes place each day: the healing that goes on in hospitals; the amazing production of food that feeds so many; the growing ability of humankind to understand this created world; the wonder of a child who grows from just a few cells to an adult in the span of two decades. It's these miracles that can capture our attention and deepen our faith!
©2010 Liturgical Publications Inc
The Baptism of the Lord - January 10, 2010
The old African-American spiritual "Michael Row the Boat Ashore" has one verse that goes, "Jordan's river is chilly and cold / hallelujah / chills the body but not the soul / hallelujah." We don't know what the temperature of the Jordan River was when Jesus stepped into it in front of John the Baptist. But Luke's Gospel relates that after he had been baptized and while he was praying the heavens opened up and the Holy Spirit descended upon him. A voice from heaven was heard, saying, "You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased."
It is unlikely that any such explicitly miraculous events occurred at our own baptism, or any that we may have attended. But something just as momentous did take place when we were baptized. In our baptism we became intimately connected to God; we became God's own children, just as Jesus is the Father's beloved Son. And when we were baptized the Holy Spirit descended upon us-not as a dove, but as the Spirit of God that always dwells in our hearts. That connectedness to God never disappears. Even when we are guilty of the worst sins, God is with us. We believe that the Holy Spirit dwells in us, helping us to act more and more like Christ as we reaffirm our baptismal commitment.
While we celebrate the signs and wonders at the Jordan that herald Jesus' baptism and the beginning of his public ministry, we also recall that our own baptism begins the call to minister in this world. Our baptismal call is to act like Christ, to be his hands, and voice, and heart in this world. When we act like him, we can be assured we too will hear the Father's voice, "with you I am well pleased."
©2010 Liturgical Publications Inc
Epiphany of the Lord - January 3, 2010
Stars are amazing-not the people who claim star-status because of their work in sports or entertainment-but the stars that populate the universe. Most are between one and ten billion years old, a time span impossible to comprehend. Other than the sun, the closest star to Earth is Proxima Centauri, about twenty-five trillion miles away, another calculation that is impossible to comprehend. The exponential numbers scientists use when working with stars, whether it is age, distance, weight, composition, luminosity, or any other characteristic, race beyond our everyday calculations of hundreds and thousands. Stars are just too big for us humans.
No wonder Matthew's infancy narrative included a star as the sign for the newborn king. Everything about this child's birth seemed unimportant: born in Bethlehem instead of the big city, Jerusalem; unknown to the important people of the day; the pregnant woman taken into Joseph's home quietly so as not to cause scandal; a quiet, unremarkable birth in an unimportant country in the empire.
But then there's that star! Big, shining, revealing that there is more to this event than meets the eye. Visitors come from afar, and upset the balance of power as they seek the child who would be king. Epiphany is the manifestation of Christ to the world. And the star shows him to be who he really is-king of the universe and Lord of all. So it shouldn't seem so strange to us that Matthew would point out one of those incomprehensible entities in the night sky as the signifier of the One who is beyond all human understanding. What is remarkable is that that One came to be one of us so that we could understand him.
©2010 Liturgical Publications Inc
The Holy Family - December 27, 2009
Adolescents are often characterized in American culture as moody, rebellious, unresponsive to adults, secretive, addicted to text messaging, and generally disconnected from their families. The caricature carries over into films, televisions shows, and comic strips like "Zits." Television sitcoms often garner great laughs by pitting younger, wittier children against adolescents to the delight of onlooking parents. Such views only serve to separate the members of a family rather than unite them as one household.
While we may laugh at the humor, letting culture define family life is not the direction offered by Christian experience. For starters, Christians begin with baptism, recognizing that each member of the family shares in the gift of the Holy Spirit that dwells in our hearts. As the writer of the First Letter of John says, "We are God's children now." In the family, each member is a precious gift with talents given by God.
The adolescent Jesus slipped away from Mary and Joseph in Sunday's Gospel. (Has it ever happened to you where one of your older kids slipped away because they wanted to stay out a little longer?) In the end, his actions were seen as part of God's larger plan. It remains a delicate balance in helping children to discern their gifts as they grow older, while at the same time providing the discipline and structure that will protect and guide them. This feast that we celebrate today reminds us that the balance comes from seeing ourselves as a family with God in our midst. With that as the starting point, rather than the culture of the day, we can all learn how to be about our heavenly Father's business.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
Fourth Sunday of Advent - December 20, 2009
For some reason Christmas seems to bring out stories of the underdog-the unseen, unpretentious, almost unknown, who suddenly breaks on the scene. There's the little drummer boy, who has nothing, but shows up to play for the newborn king. There's the fictional story of the fourth magi, who was delayed in getting to the meeting place and so didn't make the journey to Bethlehem but found Jesus later in life. And then there's Charlie Brown's Christmas tree, that forlorn sprig that at the end of the show is shown as a glorious tree.
As we hear in the first reading from Micah, Bethlehem is much the same. A tiny backwater village that isn't even big enough to be numbered among the clans of Judah. Add to the story a young, pregnant girl from a remote town in Galilee and you don't exactly have the makings of fame and fortune.
Yet by God's grace, the underdog triumphs. Mary's kinswoman, Elizabeth, recognizes the greatness when Mary shows up at her doorstep. "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb," exclaims Elizabeth, using words that we now pray every time we say the Hail Mary. Elizabeth points out, "Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled."
When we're in the lowly position, it can be hard to imagine that we can see our way out. But God does raise the lowly, as Mary said in reply to Elizabeth's greeting. Conversely, when we're on top of the world, we might do well to recall the rest of Mary's prayer: "[The Lord] has cast down the mighty from their thrones." A humble spirit can help us act upon God's will for us.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
Third Sunday of Advent - December 13, 2009
Pretty practical advice from John the Baptist in this week's Gospel: if you have two cloaks, share one; if you have food, do the same; be honest, don't cheat; don't lie about others.
Practical advice is the kind of thing elders would dole out to children and grandchildren. Be polite; wait your turn; say "thank you"; wash your hands before meals; take a walk; have regular check-ups. You know the routine.
While the simple practical advice of our elders was meant to situate us in a wholesome life that was respectful of self and others, the practical advice of John the Baptist has a great end in mind. The actions he promotes are directed toward the coming kingdom of God. John's vision takes in the whole world and extends beyond his moment in time. He is foreseeing a day when God's justice will reign supreme. He is asking his listeners to begin now to make that justice happen.
The kind things we do at this time of year are to be more than simple acts of charity. Donating food, bringing gifts for the poor, contributing to agencies that help those in need are all good things. But if we see our actions for what they can be-giving from what has been given to us to the many who have less-we then begin to understand our place in the kingdom of God. If we have more than someone else, it is always incumbent on us to share. That is the practical advice that John lays out for his listeners as preparation for the coming of the Messiah. And just to make it clear, John adds that this Messiah is coming with his winnowing fan to separate wheat from chaff. God's justice will not be denied.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
Second Sunday of Advent - December 6, 2009
The very music swells and lifts at the beginning of George Frederick Handel's Messiah as the tenor sings, "Every valley shall be exalted." The staccato of "ev-ry va-al-ley" jumps up the scale as though the music itself is lifting up the valleys making a level path and a smooth highway. Performances of the Messiah abound this time of year in concert halls, churches, and on television. Listen closely, and you may even hear selections punctuate the piped in music of malls and department stores.
What is fascinating is that most people associate one of the most famous selections from the Messiah with Christmas. But the renowned "Hallelujah" chorus is not part of the Christmas section of Messiah. It comes at the end of part two, the section devoted to Christ's passion, death, and (hallelujah!) resurrection. There is a certain wisdom in associating this Easter message with the Advent-Christmas season. It is Christ's resurrection from the dead that is the origin of our faith. And while we prepare to celebrate his birth, what we are ultimately called to do is to be ready for when he comes again.
The prophet's message that "all flesh shall see the salvation of God," is a reminder in this Advent season of where we are really headed. It's likely that we're getting into our cars a little more often these days heading to stores and parties and Christmas events. We hope that the road we travel will be smooth. But the prophet's vision isn't about highway projects. It is about eternal salvation. Maybe when we get behind the wheel each day this month we can just say a little prayer asking God to keep us on the right path.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
First Sunday of Advent - November 29, 2009
Christians always end up with this cultural collision this time of year. While we begin a new liturgical year with the First Sunday of Advent, we find ourselves approaching the final month of the civil year. While we struggle to focus on the religious meaning of one of the central events of our salvation-the birth of the Savior-we are overwhelmed by the crass commercialism of the "holiday" season. Even the sacred names that originated the feasting get pushed to the side in favor of what is perceived to be less offensive nomenclature.
Maybe that's as it should be as we begin Advent. The Gospel readings provided for the final Sundays of the church year and the beginning of the new one invite us to consider what will happen at the end of time. This Advent in particular, for the first three Sundays, the focus is on justice-God's justice, which is brought to completion when the Lord returns in glory.
In the meantime, we wait, sometimes patiently, and sometimes impatiently, like shoppers ready to take advantage of the first "door-busters" of the season. We could bemoan the lack of religiosity in this run-up to Christmas. Or we could use it to our advantage. It doesn't take much to express our faith this time of year. A cheerful greeting of "Merry Christmas" in the check-out line; a teaching moment with children when passing a store display of manger scenes; including religious emblems in our lawn displays; singing a Christmas carol for meal prayer each night: these are all ways that we can easily express our faith in the midst of the culture. The Gospel commands, "Be vigilant at all times." In our vigilance we can look for ways to express faith at every opportunity.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
Solemnity of Christ the King - November 22, 2009
When we were little children, we were given many examples of kings, mostly in fairy tales. These were usually red-robed gentlemen who either ruled with an iron fist or spent most of their time trying to marry off their beautiful daughters. As we grew, we learned of kings who constantly battled neighboring kings for territorial conquests. None of those kings seems to coincide with what we are taught about the greatest one of all, Christ the King. Where others lead by authoritarian rule, our King leads us by serving, and by giving us his greatest treasure, love. How can we now define king any other way?
We are nearly to Advent, the time in which we all pause and celebrate the period of waiting for a coming Savior, a king for all the people. Today is the last Sunday of the liturgical calendar, and is the feast of Christ the King. In today's reading, Pilate repeatedly asks Jesus if he is king of the Jews. His answer? "You say I am a king." In the footnotes to the New American Bible, it says that this is a "reluctant affirmative" at best. In other words, Jesus probably felt Pilate would never understand the type of king Jesus was; it was best to answer with a non-answer.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches us that we, the people of God, share in the royal office
of Christ. In his kingship, he draws all of us to him, asking us to reign as he did, in service to others (CCC 786). The people of the time of Jesus' earthly life had heard of a coming king and savior for many generations; their own experience with kings led them to believe their king would be a mighty ruler as well. But this King of Kings, the greatest of all, spoke softly, served others, showed compassion for all, and asked only for love in return.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time - November 15, 2009
There are many Web sites out there that proclaim that we are close to the end of time; that the troubles of our not-too-distant past have been the events that were prophesized by many and written of throughout the Bible. These Web sites tell us how to prepare, what to watch for, etc. But on nearly every single Web site, you will find advertisements by Google or Yahoo. It is possible to have a Web site without advertisements; but if we are near the end of times, do these Web sites really need a revenue stream? If it is nearly over, does money really matter?
In today's Gospel reading from Mark, Jesus was sitting privately with Peter, James, John, and Andrew. They had been discussing the end of times, and the four disciples wanted to know how they would recognize the second coming of Christ. There will be wars and conflicts, he told them; this will happen but does not mean impending doom. Rather, Jesus was most concerned about the destruction of Jerusalem and those who would proclaim to be Jesus himself, performing acts that will cause a distraction among the people. We cannot be distracted; in keeping our faith and our trust in the Lord, we will easily recognize the coming of Jesus Christ.
We have absolutely no idea how or when Jesus Christ will come again, transforming this world into one in which sin is dead and goodness prevails (CCC 1048). We are told to be ever watchful, however, and to do so means to surrender our hearts to God's love. As Catholic Christians, we believe that God loves each and every one of us despite our sins, and wants us all to be saved. And we also believe that "with God, all things are possible."
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
32rd Sunday in Ordinary Time - November 8, 2009
A few years ago, an editor at a financial investment magazine penned an article on how one should give to charities. Amazingly, he advocated giving with strings attached! He cautioned that giving to an "inefficient" charity would cause your funds to be eaten up by administrative costs, and a misdirected donation (whatever that means) would cause you financial grief. Is it possible that in this day and age the word charity would be so misunderstood? True charity has no expectations and awaits no accountability. There are no strings attached.
Today's Gospel reading from Mark actually contains two lessons. The first is a warning; Jesus asks us to beware of those who promote themselves using religion as a catapult for their own selfish desires. The second lesson speaks to faith and charity. As Jesus and his disciples watched the donations being given to the synagogue's treasury, they noted that the wealthy gave large amounts of money and made sure everyone knew it; a poor widow, however, gave all of her wealth (two coins) in silence. It was this woman that Jesus praised; she gave all, the others gave what they could spare.
In giving of our heart to Jesus Christ, do we give all that we have or whatever we feel we can spare? In asking ourselves this question, we would do well to remember that we are one with the body of Christ; we share a communion of charity. Should one suffer, we all suffer; as we give individually, all benefit (CCC 953). The woman with the two coins gave far more than the rich men who made a show of giving a small percentage of their capabilities. As charity is love, remember that we cannot love with only a portion of our hearts, it is all or nothing.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
All Saints - November 1, 2009
In a few weeks, we'll be sitting down to a meal and giving thanks for all of our blessings. Some of us may even spend the day at a shelter, preparing dinner for the homeless, and this is a good thing. But we would do well to remember that these shelters are open every day of the year, and just like on a Thursday in November, a meal must be prepared every afternoon. There are those among us who regularly schedule a day or two a week to serve or prepare these meals. They don't do it for recognition or self-fulfillment; they do it because it must be done. They often do such things in total anonymity; they are truly saints of today.
Today's Gospel reading from Matthew is Jesus' gift of the beatitudes. They are gifts because the word beatitude means happiness or blessedness. In detailing those who would receive such a gift, Jesus is revealing who really are saints among us: the poor in spirit, the sad, the meek, the hungry and thirsty, the merciful, the pure of heart, the peacemakers, and the persecuted. Each of these saints desires joy and happiness for all they encounter. In all needs, we find blessedness in Jesus Christ.
We are taught in the Catechism of the Catholic Church that the church is "a communion of saints." This expression is defined first and foremost in the Eucharist, by which the faithful are united in one body. It also refers to all who have suffered in the name of Christ to better our lives (CCC 960-961). Today is the feast of All Saints, in which we recognize and give thanks for those who have gone before us preserving and promoting Christianity, some having paid the ultimate sacrifice for their beliefs. We are called to be saints for today. Will we answer?
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
30th Sunday in Ordinary Time - October 25, 2009
When you have an opportunity to take a once in a lifetime chance, do you take it? Granted, there is no strict definition for such an instance, but in the strictest sense of the term, do you take chances or do you play it safe? One could argue that our lives are a series of opportunities, and some of the choices we make are the only chances we'll ever have. We may decide to go to work rather than college, and years later we're unable to find the time or the will to go back and get that degree. Or, sometimes a once in a lifetime chance is as simple as asking for something.
Bartimaeus figured that he had nothing to lose; blind since birth, he had heard that Jesus was preaching to a crowd nearby. Knowing in his heart that Jesus was truly the Son of God, Bartimaeus went to Jesus, and interrupting his sermon asked Jesus to cure his blindness. Jesus' compassion for a man who had such faith without seeing led him to grant his wish. If we can have faith in Jesus without ever having seen or heard him, will we realize a "once in a lifetime chance"?
The Catechism of the Catholic Church, teaching on faith, states: "[A] disciple of Christ must not only keep the faith and live on it, but also profess it, confidently bear witness to it, and spread it" (CCC 1816). Bartimaeus not only possessed great faith in Jesus, he was unashamed and unafraid to call out to his Savior in front of the many people around him. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus said, "Everyone who acknowledges me before others I will acknowledge before my heavenly Father." Today, if you meet someone who needs the loving arms of Jesus Christ, take that chance to share his promise of everlasting life.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
29th Sunday in Ordinary Time - October 18, 2009
A teenage boy completes his driver's education course and with his new license in his hand goes to see his dad. "Dad," he says, quite proud of himself, "I'm ready to drive, so I'd like you to get me a car." The father smiles and the two of them hop into the family sedan. But instead of going to the local new car dealership, the father takes his son to a junkyard. "Here you go, son. Take your pick; if you can get it repaired and running, you can drive it." The son didn't realize the responsibility of driving a car was squarely on his shoulders alone. If he was to realize his reward, it was solely up to him.
Sometimes, one has to wonder about the disciples of Jesus. In today's reading from Mark, James and John seem to be feeling quite proud of themselves, and ask Jesus to promise them something without telling him what it is they want. Now, we realize that Jesus knew what they would ask, but he let them continue anyway. Basically, they wanted a guaranteed seat in heaven on either side of God's throne. Jesus gently tells them that not even he can promise something like that; he can only show them the path, how they choose to get there is up to them.
Within the teachings of Jesus and the beatitudes lies the strength of Christian hope. The beatitudes give us the hope of heaven as the new Promised Land. Just as James and John came to realize that their hope for a place in heaven relied on them, we are given hope. Hope is expressed in prayer, especially in the Lord's Prayer (CCC 1820). As disciples of Jesus Christ, we must be willing to sacrifice on a daily basis all that we have in his name. We must be willing to do whatever it takes to follow the path to heaven that Jesus has given us.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
28th Sunday in Ordinary Time - October 11, 2009
It is said, quite probably a bit too often, that we live a materialistic existence. How sad it is that we don't seek God with such zeal as we seek that new car, TV, clothing, or computer! What among those offers the greatest reward? Which on that list will bring us peace of mind, love of heart, and compassion for our fellow human beings? Is it envy that leads us to greed? Why can't we see the joy in the eyes and words of those who share a bond with God and live their lives in his service? Take a look around you; attempt to see someone truly happy who couldn't care less about his or her possessions.
A man comes to Jesus, begging for the "keys to the kingdom." He is desperate to know what he can do to receive eternal life. As it turns out, he has acquired quite a bit of wealth over the years, yet somehow has realized eternal life is the one thing he cannot count among his possessions. It's very simple, Jesus tells him; give up all you have and follow me, and your salvation is assured. Sadly, it is too high a price to pay for the man, and he leaves knowing he will never have it all. Do you know of anyone who truly "has it all"?
We are called to live in God's love. This Christian beatitude is explained in the Catechism of the Catholic Church: "[this beatitude] invites us to purify our hearts of bad instincts and to seek the love of God above all else. It teaches us that true happiness is not found in riches or well-being, in human fame or power, or in any human achievement-however beneficial it may be-such as science, technology, and art, or indeed in any creature, but in God alone, the source of every good and of all love" (CCC 1723). Your greatest wealth is yours for the taking!
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
27th Sunday in Ordinary Time - October 4, 2009
One of the truisms of statistics is that they can be manipulated to show whatever the person doing the report wants them to show. On the subject of divorce, those who speak out against marriage love to cite that half of all marriages ends in divorce, therefore the sacrament must not be worth the pain that may ensue with divorce. But according to the US Census Bureau, the divorce rate in this country has dropped to its lowest level in nearly forty years, while the marriage rate remains constant. There is always hope!
In today's Gospel reading from Mark, the Pharisees posed a question to Jesus in hopes of catching him teaching against the laws of the time, a punishable offense. "Is it lawful for a husband to divorce a wife?" they asked. Knowing their intent, Jesus allowed them to answer their own question by admitting that Moses had decreed divorce allowable. This gave Jesus the opportunity to remind all who would hear that a marriage between a man and a woman is a sacred bond not only between the two but also with God. Given this opportunity, Jesus explains that no human can overturn an act of God.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches us that at the very beginning of the sacred Scripture, God reveals his plan for us in marriage in the creation of a man and a woman for each other; and at the end, we are given the vision of the wedding-feast of the Lamb (CCC 1602). Moses realized that among the people, there were hearts that did not possess or accept the sanctity of marriage, therefore he allowed for divorce. But while Jesus acknowledged this, he asked us to understand the sacrament and to do all that we could to preserve it.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
26th Sunday in Ordinary Time - September 27, 2009
Envy and jealousy are emotions we're all familiar with; they seem to appear with ease and yet are almost impossible to suppress or destroy. A coworker receives a promotion, and perhaps we wonder why it wasn't us. A neighbor announces she is building a new house, and suddenly our house is showing its age. A friend finds time to volunteer at a homeless shelter and participates in several ministries at your parish, all the while smiling about his life, and you wonder how negative his home life must be. Yet when you are blessed with good fortune by God, aren't you ready to shout it from the rooftops?
In today's Gospel reading from Mark, the disciples of Jesus have witnessed someone casting out demons in the name of Christ. Yet, as they point out, this person hasn't spent the time they have, following closely in the company of Jesus and listening to his teachings. Surely he can't be qualified, they say. Jesus gently reminds his disciples that any person who attempts to do truly good things in his name is a child of God. Perhaps the disciples were a bit envious; perhaps they failed to recognize that the abilities of this person were gifts from God, and in attempting to stop him they were attempting to deny God's wisdom in granting such gifts.
Jesus tells us the second greatest commandment, after loving God with all our hearts, is to love our neighbors as ourselves (CCC 2055). The tenth commandment serves to instill in us the desire to abolish envy and jealously completely. If we are willing to acknowledge that everything we have and are is a gift of God, we cannot afford to challenge God's wisdom in his gifts to others.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
25th Sunday in Ordinary Time - September 20, 2009
It is perhaps one of the most exciting and yet frightening times of a young couple's lives. From the moment they discover that they are expecting a child to the very moment that he or she enters the world, the parents-to-be are filled with joy, but also concern. Will their baby be healthy? Today's doctors can detect health issues long before the baby is born; if something is discovered, how does the young couple receive the news? Are they faced with difficult decisions, or are they bolstered by the message found in today's Gospel?
Given the circumstances of today's fast-paced life, it is difficult to imagine the pace of life in Jesus' day. On a journey by foot through Galilee, Jesus and his disciples had many hours to discuss the meaning of life and the role of Christ in their lives. He tried to explain his final days and hours, but even with seemingly all the time in the world, they did not grasp the immense message he was giving them. Perhaps seeking an easier way to say it, he held a small child, telling them that if they accept an innocent child, they are accepting him, and in accepting him, they are accepting God.
In praying the Lord's Prayer, we first and foremost proclaim "Our Father." This is done with the intent to remind us that in order to be fully revealed in our hearts, we must appear to God as innocents, children willing to accept his love unconditionally. We are asking for a purification of our hearts (CCC 2779). As Jesus held that small child out to his disciples, he gave absolutely no conditions as to acceptance of a child. As innocents, children are the symbol of the purity of life and the purity of the love Jesus has for us all.
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24th Sunday in Ordinary Time - September 13, 2009
It is not uncommon, when talking to a friend about all of the challenges we are facing in our day-to-day lives, to have that friend tell us, "We all have our crosses to bear." It seems, however, that linking the symbol of the world's greatest sacrifice to a pile of past-due bills on the table is rather simplistic and misses the point of bearing our own cross. What are our real challenges, anyway? Is it harder to navigate this life's worldly difficulties, or to proclaim proudly our undying love of Jesus Christ to any and all who will listen
Today's Gospel reading from Mark offers the memorable question from Jesus to his disciples, "Who do people say that I am?" Their answers are varied, but his follow-up question is more important: "But who do you say that I am?" They have had the opportunity to be closest to him, witness his miracles and enjoy his private teachings. And it is at this point that Jesus offers them yet another insight into everlasting life: "Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me." The cross he is referring to is our willingness never to deny him as the one true savior, even if it means giving our lives in his name.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church defines the cross as "the unique sacrifice of Christ, the 'one mediator between God and men.'" In telling his disciples-and us-that in order to follow him we must take up our own crosses, we are offered the possibility of being made partners in the paschal mystery (CCC 618). In a way, when a friend offers that "we all have our crosses to bear," as followers of Jesus we can be assured that yes, but it is only one, and it really isn't very heavy at all!
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time - September 6, 2009
You may have heard of Patrick Henry Hughes, hopefully because of his accomplishments. A gifted piano player, trumpeter, and singer, at age twenty he has performed on such stages as the Grand Ole Opry and the Kennedy Center. But Patrick Henry is also known as the young man in the wheelchair who, with his dad, performs with his University of Louisville marching band. Not only is he confined to a wheelchair because of a birth disorder, Patrick Henry is blind. He was born without eyes, but this is how he "sees" life: "I believe God gave me blindness so that I may see the inner qualities in everyone I meet."
How do you view disabilities? Like Patrick Henry Hughes, do you view them as a gift? Is it possible to understand that in some aspects of our lives, we all have areas that could be deemed a disability? We may be blind to the needs of others, deaf to the sounds of praise from a friend, unable to express gratitude for the many gifts we receive on a daily basis. In today's reading from Mark, Jesus is presented with a blind man with a speech impediment. Pulling him out of the crowd to a solitary place, the man is healed through Jesus' touch.
Jesus' decision to lead the man away into solitude in order to heal him stresses the importance of praying without distraction. According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church, Jesus always responds to a prayer offered in faith, whether healing infirmities or forgiving sins (CCC 2616). It is often difficult to listen to the wonders of God or speak to him when we are surrounded by the clamor of the world around us. We are healed by the loving touch of Jesus when we allow ourselves and our hearts to listen, see, and feel only him.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time - August 30, 2009
Our friend hosts Thanksgiving dinner every year for his extended family, and usually more than twenty people attend. And every year, he tries to introduce a different cranberry sauce recipe into the mix, but is warned ahead of time by his mother-in-law that the cranberry sauce had better sit in the dish and look just like the can it came out of, or there will be trouble. They've always done it that way, she says, and no one, not even her son-in-law, is going to break that tradition. He tries to explain that his will still taste like cranberries, but she still prefers tradition.
Today's Gospel reading from Mark is a lesson in traditions and how often we lose sight of what is really important in our day-to-day behavior. The Pharisees observe Jesus' disciples eating their meal with unwashed hands. According to old Jewish laws and traditions, this meant their food was unclean as well, and would in turn give them unclean spirits. Jesus, however, scolded the Pharisees, telling them that it doesn't matter if what goes into their body is a bit dirty; it is only important to pay attention to what comes out of our bodies-our words and actions. These must remain clean and filled with God's love.
We are taught in the Catechism of the Catholic Church that in prayer, we are petitioning the Holy Spirit to come to us in Christ Jesus' name. And in doing so, we are asking for our hearts and souls to be purified and cleansed, enabling us to serve God with love (CCC 2671). While no one is saying that it doesn't matter if you wash your hands before a meal, Jesus is simply asking us to keep in perspective the fact that we must always keep our minds in prayer, and our words and deeds in service to God.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
21st Sunday in Ordinary Time - August 23, 2009
For many years, an organization held huge seminars around the country, bringing in motivational speakers to talk to salespeople from all areas of business. It was an all-day event, and crowds of ten thousand or more would fill arenas to hear the speakers. At the conclusion of the day, everyone was filled with a renewed spirit and zest for selling, having been taught many little lessons on how to be better. Unfortunately, many of those who attended the lectures didn't put into practice what they had heard, and had soon turned back to their old habits.
In today's Gospel reading, we hear some of the saddest words imaginable: "many (of) his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him." While Jesus knew that they would, how utterly devastated must he have felt? He even turned to his chosen Twelve, asking if they wanted to leave as well. Judas Iscariot did; Peter nearly did when the going got rough. But that is when we need to stand firm, shoulder to shoulder with Jesus, knowing he would never turn away from us.
Our child has fallen and scraped her knee; her first thought is to cry out our name. Who among us would turn away from our child in her time of need? Just as God does not turn away, he invites our cry to him by asking us to pray. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches us that we "are sinners who as Christians know that we have turned away from our Father. Our petition [prayer] is already a turning back to him" (CCC 2629). When Jesus asks the Twelve Apostles if they, too, will leave him, Peter asks where else would they go, except to the one who has the words of eternal life. Where else would you turn?
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20th Sunday in Ordinary Time - August 16, 2009
There was a man who lived on the edge of a small Midwestern town. He kept to himself, had his groceries delivered, and never ventured past his own front gate. No one made an effort to know him, and it stayed that way for nearly sixty years. When the man passed away, it was found that he had no family. The state-appointed lawyer for his estate ordered everything in his home sold or disposed of. Upon entering his home, the auctioneers found nearly every wall of the home covered in beautiful oil paintings, created by the man no one knew. He had a beautiful gift, yet he kept it to himself, and in doing so he deprived so many others of its beauty.
Today's Gospel reading from John continues the theme of Jesus as the bread of life. He tells those listening that whoever eats his flesh and drinks his blood will have eternal life. We hear these words at every Mass as the priest recites the similar words from the Last Supper. We hear them so often we might not even react to their true meaning. Yet imagine hearing them for the first time that day with Jesus! The people, who have already witnessed his miracles, still refer to him as "this man." They cannot believe.
We approach the altar solemnly, reverently. The host is placed in our hands; "the body of Christ." We are offered the cup; "the blood of Christ." And with each gift, we respond, "Amen." And it is in that amen that we are truly saying, "Yes, in receiving the true body and blood of Christ, I am becoming the body and blood of Christ and wish to share it with others." Our faith, our belief in God's saving grace, "is a treasure of life which is enriched by being shared" (CCC 949).
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
19th Sunday in Ordinary Time - August 9, 2009
Perhaps you've heard the story of the atheist who while out hiking fell off the side of a cliff, only to grab on to a branch that stopped him from falling to a certain death. He held on for dear life, with nothing between him and the canyon below. He decided at that moment to give prayer a chance, asking God for salvation from his fate. A voice from above told him to let go of the branch; his new faith would save him. The man thought for a moment, and then looking skyward asked, "Is there anyone else up there I can talk to about this?" When we are offered the gift of eternal life, do we ignore it?
We listen to the words of Jesus as he admonishes a crowd of grumblers: "No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draw him, and I will raise him on the last day." We are drawn to God; on Sundays we are drawn to Mass. Our parishes draw us in from the parking lot or the street; our pastor draws us to the altar to receive the holy Eucharist. At times, we may feel as if we are holding on for our dear lives, barely able to make it through each day. It is at these times that we quiet ourselves and listen to God. We are drawn into loving arms, and we are safe.
Underlying Jesus' message that he is the bread of life is that in order for us to receive eternal life, we must live in love. To live in love means to seek Jesus, and through him God, in contemplative prayer. We seek him, because doing so is the beginning of true love (CCC 2709). In the sharing of the Eucharist at every Mass, we are reaffirming our vow to live a life of love. Today, as you approach the altar, leave behind your anger and bitterness. Let go of that branch, and you will be saved.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
18th Sunday in Ordinary Time - August 2, 2009
Twenty years ago, Marianne Wilson saw a need; thousands of people with critical illnesses were going hungry in her area of Southern California, and she just wasn't going to stand for it. She began cooking healthy meals and delivering them to men, women and children dying from HIV/AIDS, cancer, and other diseases at no cost to the recipients. Today, the organization is known as Project Angel Food, and every year produces over 400,000 meals and delivers them to more than 1,600 people. On its Web site, it says, "We act out of a sense of urgency because hunger and illness do not wait."
It had been barely twenty-four hours since the miracle of the loaves and fishes; thousands had found nourishment. Jesus and his disciples had crossed the Sea of Galilee to Capernaum, and still many in the crowd from the day before found him, wanting another miracle. But Jesus offered them and us a greater miracle; if we are only to believe in the Son of God, we will never hunger again. Our faith is our work; this work will be generously rewarded.
In the Lord's Prayer we pray "Give us this day our daily bread." Fully understanding today's Gospel reading from John enables us to comprehend the dual meaning of this petition: our bodies will hunger, please provide nourishment, and our souls hunger, please provide through our faith the bread of life that is faith in Jesus Christ. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches us that "the drama of hunger in the world calls Christians who pray sincerely to exercise responsibility toward their brethren, both in their personal behavior and in their solidarity with the human family" (CCC 2831).
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
17th Sunday in Ordinary Time - July 26, 2009
There is a certain fast-food company that sells hamburgers. In their advertising, they claim that their product has the ability to satisfy our cravings. In fact, several television ads depict their hamburger calling people up on the phone, ostensibly getting them to stop whatever it is they are doing to satisfy their craving. Nothing can resist them! Is this company creative? Perhaps; but a better question might be, is their product fulfilling? For a brief period our hunger is satisfied, but as with all urges and cravings, they soon return.
Today's Gospel reading is the only miracle story told in all four Gospels, the feeding of the five thousand. It is theorized by some that one aspect of the miracle was Jesus' belief in our ability to share. As the baskets of fish and bread were passed, the people took what they needed but shared some of what they had, as well. But the greater symbolism to take away from today's reading is that Jesus Christ, the bread of life, removes all hunger and all needs and continues to nourish us forever. All that we crave truly resides in the loving arms of the Son of God.
According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC 2002), God has placed in all of us a longing for truth and goodness that only he can satisfy. "God immediately touches and directly moves the heart of man." The five thousand people had finally arrived at their destination, seeking to have their souls fed through the teachings of Jesus. And just as he instructed them to lie down in the grass, rest and be fed, so too are we to take this and every Sunday as an opportunity to rest, reflect, and be nourished by the Word of God.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
16th Sunday in Ordinary Time - July 19, 2009
Many self-help books have been written over the years in which the author highly advocates the use of "to-do lists" in order to help us gain control over our lives. Generally, they say we will feel encouraged as we strike off the different things on our lists as we accomplish them. But what I have never seen any of these so-called experts advocate is creating a "done list" in which we take time each day to quietly reflect on all that we have achieved, no matter how small. When we cross things off a to-do list, we tend to say, "Thank God that's done." But when we look at a done list, we might be more tempted to say, "Thanks, God, for your help."
Jesus was trying to give his disciples a rest and a time for reflection and prayer in today's Gospel reading from Mark. They had returned from teaching throughout the area and were excited to tell him all they had accomplished, but at the same time Jesus felt they needed solitude to reflect and give thanks in prayer for all they had done. Still, the many people of the area searching for peace in their lives kept coming to them, the lost sheep of God's flock.
Throughout the Gospels, Jesus often draws away from his disciples to pray in silence and solitude. And when he does, he includes each and every one of us in his prayers. He became flesh and blood to give himself in sacrifice for us; he experienced our pain and suffering in order to free us from that pain (CCC 2602). Few of us can remember much of any self-help book we've ever read, and rarely if ever do we go back to them. Yet the word of God remains, ready to be reflected upon again and again. Doing so prayerfully is to give thanks.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
15th Sunday in Ordinary Time - July 12, 2009
Sometimes, it feels as if we live in a world of contradictions. Take traveling for example; the Boy Scout in us tells us to be prepared. This means packing for nearly every imaginable weather scenario from blizzards to sandstorms. But the practical person within us knows that the lighter we travel, the easier a time we will have of it. This is especially true if we're flying; between extra costs for extra bags and long lines at baggage pickup, we're better off with just a small carry-on containing the bare essentials. And really, don't we only need the essentials?
In today's Gospel, Jesus has gathered his Twelve Apostles together and is preparing to send them out to heal those afflicted with unclean spirits. He instructs them to carry nothing, only a walking stick, their sandals and a single tunic. He assures them their needs will be satisfied. Those who listen to their preaching will help them; but should their preaching be ignored, they can quickly and efficiently move on to the next person. In this lesson, we learn to rid ourselves of the excess baggage in our lives, freeing us to seek a closer relationship with God.
Jesus did not instruct his disciples to preach to any one type of person, he only gave them the power to cleanse the spirit. In other words, he sent them out to free the people of the burdens of sin and make them able to accept the many and diverse gifts of God (CCC 814). Each day, we are given a wonderful opportunity to cast off the burdens and the excesses of every day life-shake the dust from our sandals-to make room for the gifts of God. And with these gifts, we are also given the responsibility of sharing their beauty with all those who would listen.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
14th Sunday in Ordinary Time - July 5, 2009
When children are very young, say around two or three years of age, their entire world exists within the walls of their home. And all that they are, all they believe, comes from their parents. In fact, in those young eyes, their parents are perfect; they believe everything Mom and Dad tell them is the truth, and they will do anything they ask (usually!). But as they grow older, and the world outside of those walls grows louder, the perfections of Mom and Dad seem to begin to falter. They are looked at through doubtful eyes, their wisdom challenged at nearly every turn. Often it is not until years later that we realize they were the same wise parents all along.
When Jesus entered Jerusalem for the last time before his crucifixion, he cried. Not for his fate, but because those around him did not realize of their impending salvation. In today's Gospel, Jesus has returned to Nazareth to teach in the synagogue, yet his own people doubt his truth, remembering him as a boy and as the son of a carpenter. He remarks that prophets such as him are always scorned by those who know them best, the people of their hometown.
As children, our innocent faith and belief in God is unwavering. As we grow older, we sometimes question our beliefs and put aside our faith, rather than grow even closer to Christ. This is because "Faith seeks understanding" (CCC 158). Everything else in this world is explained visually through tangible facts; only faith can come from our hearts. Perhaps Jesus cried not only for those who saw his miracles yet did not believe, but also for us who did not see. Our challenge is to be as children in our faith, unwavering, open and believing with all our hearts.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
13th Sunday in Ordinary Time - June 28, 2009
The 19th century writer George Iles described hope as faith's hand outstretched in the dark. The scene is repeated thousands of time each day across the country; a man or a woman, any race, any age, any background, reaches out their hand and for the first time turns the doorknob to the meeting room in the church or the veteran's hall or the hospital. They are alcoholics or addicts, and have reached their own personal low. But as faith is always present, even in their darkest hour these men and women have found a slight glimmer of hope. Though the world has said, "Give up!" hope has said, "Try once more."
Today's Gospel reading from Mark is really two stories, one within the other, of hope and faith. Jairus, a leader in the synagogue, begs Jesus to save his dying daughter. What Jairus doesn't know is that his daughter has already died; Jesus takes the man home. As they arrive, the crowd tells them the daughter is dead and begs Jesus to leave as it is hopeless. Jairus, however, still has hope in the healing power of Christ, and because of this the daughter is awakened. The other story takes place as Jesus walks to Jairus' home; an ailing woman in the crowd silently reaches out to touch Jesus' robe. He senses her faith without words, and heals her. He rewards her hope.
We seek happiness in our lives through the virtue of hope placed by God in all of our hearts. Hope keeps us from discouragement in tough times, it keeps us company when we are alone, and it keeps us in a state of reminder of all of God's beauty in creation (CCC 1818). It is never too dark to reach out your own hand of faith and hope; another is reaching out to you with faith and hope as well.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
12th Sunday in Ordinary Time - June 21, 2009
Many have tried to describe both courage and fear; it is thought that fear exists in us all and is ever present, but courage must be summoned from deep within when facing those fears. It would be safe to say, however, that courage is most easily exhibited when it is accompanied by faith; one could even argue that courage simply cannot exist without faith. In our lives we are faced with challenges both large and small on a daily basis; without faith, how do we ever expect to muster the courage it will take to face down our challenges and dismiss our fears?
In today's Gospel reading from Mark, Jesus has just finished teaching to a large crowd from a boat. As evening fell, he and the others with him decided to sail to another shore for the evening. As Jesus slept, a storm arose and threatened to swamp the boats. His disciples feared for their lives; they were incredulous that Jesus could sleep through such danger. Waking up, Jesus calmed the storm, but turned to those who were so worried and questioned their faith. Without faith, was courage possible?
Perhaps no other time in our lives do we need to summon courage and strength more than when one of our loved ones is suffering from ill health. The sacrament of anointing of the sick has as its special grace an ability to allow the suffering one to face one's illness with strength, faith and courage (CCC 1532). But we must remember that we need courage every day. When we are faced with moral challenges, especially when we are alone, we are called to listen to that voice telling us what is right. That voice, the Holy Spirit, is our faith summoning the courage we need to make the right choice.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ - June 14, 2009
Recently, we attended the wake of a dear friend who had succumbed to cancer. She was in her early 70s, and had three grown children, all married. Over the years, the family had grown distant; the siblings were leading their lives with problems of their own and had little contact with their mother. Yet at the wake, they seemed to come together, realizing that everything they were, all of their traits and values and loves and struggles, were given to them by their mother. In her death, they came to know that they were given the greatest gift, the gift of life.
Today, we celebrate the feast of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ. We are called to reflect and renew our faith in the saving nourishment of the Eucharist. At the Last Supper, Jesus broke the bread and poured the wine, instructing his disciples not only to eat and drink in his memory, but to do so with others who would believe. All that he was, he wanted to give to the world. And as he foretold in the distribution of the loaves and fishes, each of us who receives him is to give him as well.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church defines the Eucharist this way: "The Eucharist is a sacrifice of thanksgiving to the Father, a blessing by which the Church expresses her gratitude to God for all his benefits, for all that he has accomplished through creation, redemption, and sanctification. Eucharist means first of all 'thanksgiving'" (CCC 1360). As we approach the altar prepared to receive the body and blood of Christ, perhaps we would do well to remember the sacrifice he gave for us-his very life. In doing so, we realize that sense of thanksgiving that embodies the Eucharist.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
Most Holy Trinity - June 7, 2009
The worship center is dark; each parishioner holds an unlit candle. The pastor enters with a single lighted candle and begins lighting the candles of those at the ends of the pews. In turn, they light the candles of the people next to them, and so on. Slowly, the room is aglow in the light of a thousand candles, all lit from a single flame. As the pastor approaches the altar, we are careful to take notice that the candle he carried in has not changed in the least, and could light even another thousand candles. It is that way when we speak of God's love; no matter how often we share it, our own love grows brighter and stronger.
Through the example of one candle lighting a thousand we are able to better appreciate the Gospel. After the Resurrection, Jesus summons the eleven disciples to a mountain in Galilee. There, he gives them the Great Commission, to go out into the world and baptize all in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Jesus could have appeared to thousands, yet he knew these eleven "candles" would be capable of following his commandments and spreading his promise of eternal life.
Today is the feast of the Most Holy Trinity, a remembrance of Christ's directive of a new mission for his followers to baptize in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The Catechism of the Catholic Church tells us that this mandate is our invitation to join in the one family of God, fully united and complete (CCC 959). Two thousand years ago, eleven men set out, tasked with beginning the fulfillment of the New Covenant by bringing all who would believe into the loving arms of God. Today, turn to others and offer them the light
of life.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
Pentecost - May 31, 2009
Every year, Holy Name Cathedral in Chicago offers a special Mass for couples who are celebrating their fiftieth anniversary. On the occasion of my in-laws' fiftieth, there were so many couples celebrating that family and friends were forced to watch the Mass from an adjoining building! The term Pentecost literally means "fiftieth" and was celebrated as a feast on the fiftieth day following Passover in the time of Jesus. Today, of course, we know and celebrate Pentecost as the birthday of the church, when the disciples were unified by the Holy Spirit and empowered as one to bring the Word to the world.
The final act of the New Covenant is the gift of the Holy Spirit, who is described as "Advocate" and "Spirit of truth." Jesus tells us in today's Gospel reading from John that all that God has given him will now be given to us. In this sense, the truth that we are given is the one truth which cannot be denied, and that is that the only path to the kingdom of heaven and the saving grace of our Lord is through true, unfaltering belief and love in Jesus Christ. And that truth is not to be kept to ourselves but joyfully shared with others without fear or doubt. It is up to us.
On the day of Pentecost, the church was given to the world through the power and presence of the Holy Spirit. "The gift of the Spirit ushers in a new era in the 'dispensation of the mystery,' the age of the Church, during which Christ manifests, makes present, and communicates his work of salvation through the liturgy of his Church" (CCC 1076). From a tiny spark 2,000 years ago, the church has blazed forth like a raging fire throughout the world. Each and every one of us who believes has been given a part in this celebration, a gift
we cannot deny.
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Ascension of the Lord - May 24, 2009
We are all familiar with the concept of an ambassador. Generally considered as the full and true representative of one's country, an ambassador is given an embassy from which he or she conducts business. Ambassadors have been given plenipotentiary (which comes from the combination of two Latin words, plenus and potens), which means full power to speak and act on behalf of their homeland. Ambassadors-at-large do not have an embassy, but are empowered to represent their homeland in several countries.
In today's Gospel reading from Mark, we hear of the ascension of Jesus Christ to sit at the right hand of the Father. And in doing so, he granted to his disciples their own plenipotentiary, or full power, to represent him throughout the world. So, too, are we given this great commission; we are to drive out demons (convert the sinner), speak new languages (learn to express God's love in our own way), pick up serpents (fight evil with love), and heal the sick (wellness of heart through repentance). Can we accept this great commission?
The Catechism of the Catholic Church identifies that from the apostles through the priests and religious and through the laity, "there is diversity of ministry but unity of mission" (CCC 873). Our shepherds are charged with teaching, sanctifying and governing in his name and by his power. We, as children of God, are also assigned the mission to bring those who don't believe into the loving light of Christ. Today, God calls us to remember the final words of Jesus and to humbly accept and fulfill his mission.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
6th Sunday of Easter - May 17, 2009
It was 1943, and Hitler's legions of death squads had occupied most of Poland. In the small town of Nowogrodek, sixty Jews were executed. Soon, however, the Gestapo arrested another 120 citizens to be executed simply as a show of force. A small order of nuns, the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth, offered themselves in exchange for the release of the 120 prisoners. The Nazis agreed, and on July 18th, eleven sisters were lead out into the woods and were murdered. Today, a biala fara (white church) stands at the final resting place of the blessed martyrs who gave their lives without hesitation for their friends.
Perhaps it is difficult to comprehend what it would feel like to willingly lay down one's life for a friend. In today's Gospel reading from John, we are given the answer through what is known as the Great Commandment-love. Jesus tells us that there is no greater love than to be willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for another. This is exemplified in God's pure, unending love for us in offering his only Son to die for our sins and give us everlasting life. If we are able to love one another purely and wholly as he loved us, all things will be possible, even our ultimate sacrifice for another.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church is very clear in explaining Jesus' words to us that if we are to love one another "as I have loved you" we cannot do it simply through words of promise or imitation (CCC 2842). Only through the strength of the Holy Spirit will we be empowered to demonstrate, from the bottom of our heart, true love, mercy, and forgiveness. In the words of St. Ignatius of Loyola, "Teach us, good Lord, to serve you as you deserve, to give and not to count the cost."
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
5th Sunday of Easter - May 10, 2009
Hot air balloons of today are beautiful, quiet giants, floating through the skies powered by propane tanks which give the pilot the ability to control its elevation based on the amount of heated air dispensed into the balloon. But 19th-century balloons have often been depicted with sandbags attached around the gondola; should the balloon begin to descend when it shouldn't, these weighted bags could be released, which would lighten the load and allow the balloon to rise. Perhaps we are guilty at times of carrying too many sandbags that weigh us down and prevent our ascension.
"I am the true vine," Jesus proclaims in today's Gospel reading from John, "and my Father is the vine grower." His analogy is that God has already removed every dead branch from the vine-sin-and continually prunes the good, fruit-bearing branches-you and me-so that we will grow even more good fruit. In other words, as long as we remain with Jesus, we will prosper and multiply and bring others to his good word. God has cut the sandbags that weigh us down and prevent us from rising to see his glory.
On this Fifth Sunday of Easter, we are reminded by the Catechism of the Catholic Church that through the power of the Holy Spirit, "God's children can bear much fruit. He who has grafted us onto the true vine will make us bear the fruit of the Spirit: 'love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control'" (CCC 736). How does God "prune" the branches of his vine, Jesus Christ? He gives us the ability to turn away from the hurtful influences of the world and live with the love that multiplies in his name.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
4th Sunday of Easter - May 3, 2009
There is a phrase that has become popular if not overused in the business world today. It is "thinking outside the box." What this means is to be more creative, to do away with traditional thinking. It is most often used in the world of advertising, where companies attempt to come up with new and innovative ways to get consumers to notice them. Unfortunately, this type of thinking all too often leads to being outside the boundaries of good taste, as well. Like a shepherd's fence, perhaps the box was created for a very good reason to begin with!
Today's Gospel reading from John relates Jesus' narrative of being the Good Shepherd. He states adamantly that he will lay down his life for his flock, but he also says he will think outside of the box when he says: "I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. These also I must lead, and they will hear my voice, and there will be one flock, one shepherd." The Good Shepherd fights for our very lives against the evils of the world, so much so that he sacrificed himself so that we might be saved. It is the least we can do to call others who have strayed from the shepherd's flock.
A traditional shepherd keeps his flock close to him, builds a fence to keep them safe. Should one stray, he uses his crook to bring it home. The Good Shepherd provides us with the sacrament of penance, our way of returning to the flock. The priest is the sign and instrument of God's merciful love and forgiveness for our straying (CCC 1465). On this Fourth Sunday of Easter, we would do well to listen to the Good Shepherd, who invites us to return the flock.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
3rd Sunday of Easter - April 26, 2009
It had been an especially trying day. He had been out of work for over six months, and despite many interviews, he had not been offered any positions. He thought he had qualifications for the positions he had applied, what with a college degree and many years' experience in his field. Still, he continued to be turned down, often with no explanation whatsoever. Depressed, he turned to a particularly good book and read the words of a reassuring friend: "Peace be with you." That afternoon, he received a call from an employer.
Today's Gospel reading is Luke's version of last week's reading from John. Two men have just visited the disciples and told of their encounter with the risen Jesus on their way to Emmaus. Excitedly, they recalled how they did not recognize him, but felt a burning in their hearts as they walked along and listened to him speak. Not until he broke the bread at dinner did they understand in whose presence they were. And as they told their story, Jesus appeared to them all in the room, startling them with his presence so they were unable to recognize him. "Peace be with you," he tells them.
At times in our lives, we are hidden behind locked doors, fearful of the world and what it may have to offer us, or even what it may want to take from us. It is at these times that we must look for the resurrected Jesus and listen for his offer of peace. We celebrate the liturgy in expectation of Christ's return; we pray in hope through the Holy Spirit (CCC 2657). When we are fearful, remember the prayer of St. Paul: "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the holy Spirit"
(Rom 15:13).
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
2nd Sunday of Easter - April 19, 2009
For all of their redemptive works which led to the spread of Christianity throughout the world, the disciples of Jesus weren't exactly saintly in the hours before and days after the crucifixion. Having abandoned him in fear for their lives, they still did not comprehend the meaning of Christ's promise (made many times) to rise again. Even presented with the physical proof of an empty tomb, they continued to hide behind a locked door, unsure of their future. Even Thomas, who could best be described as the Eeyore of the group, couldn't bear to be with the rest of them. Not exactly how Jesus wanted them to begin their ministry in his name!
In today's Gospel reading from John, Jesus appears to the disciples (except for Thomas) inside the upper room despite the door being locked. Having shown them the holes in his hands and side, they are now convinced of his resurrection. Offering them peace, Jesus breathes into them the Holy Spirit and commands them to go out into the world to forgive sins. Yet Thomas still cannot be convinced despite ten men proclaiming Christ's presence until he himself is greeted. Even among those closest to Jesus, fear and doubt were all too present.
In the Catechism of the Catholic Church, we are taught that "to be a witness to Christ is to be a 'witness to his Resurrection,' to '[have eaten and drunk] with him after he rose from the dead'" (CCC 995). This means that in every instance available to us, we are to speak to others of the saving grace that is belief in Jesus and, whenever possible, to share in the sacrament of the Holy Eucharist. Though we did not touch his hands and side, we remember his words to Thomas: "Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed."
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
Easter Sunday - April 12, 2009
No one is quite sure where or when the saying began, but it has become a mantra of young people to want to "find themselves." They search and search, looking for answers as to who they are when they truthfully don't even know what the questions are! Many times, they flee their homes in anger, having decided that it is their families that are holding them back, and if they are ever going to make it in the world they will have to do it elsewhere. Their hearts become hard as stone, so hard in fact that no amount of talking will move them.
Today, we celebrate the most glorious day of the church, the resurrection of Jesus Christ as he had promised. Our choirs will sing stirring hymns of praise, and we will dress in our finest. But take a few minutes today to think of that morning mentioned in today's Gospel reading from John. It is quiet and dark, shortly before the first few rays of the sun are visible. The sealed tomb is no longer sealed, the massive stone having been rolled away from the entrance despite the presence of a guard. Peter and John, who ran from Jesus at his arrest, now run to find him again. Seeing his burial cloths removed, they believe.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church reminds us that in his dying and resurrection, Jesus has "opened" heaven to all who would believe in him with unwavering faith (CCC 1026). All too often, we hold the pains and sins of our lives like a stone, placed firmly in front of our minds and our hearts so that we cannot see the love of Christ which lives in us. Even though we've put the stone there, we cannot remove it by ourselves. At some point, we need only to ask the one who removed the stone 2,000 years ago, and he will move ours as well.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
Palm Sunday - April 5, 2009
It is triumph and tragedy. It is exultation and condemnation. It is a story of unification, and of abandonment, of love and excruciating suffering like nothing we can imagine. Today we share together the triumphant entrance into Jerusalem, greeted as a king with waving palms and shouts of Hosanna! We listen almost in disbelief as his followers and closest friends abandon him in his time of need. We hear the prayer of love, in spite of the events to come, to accept whatever God's plan is for him. We grimace at the details of the beatings and the death on the cross. In the depths of our hearts, we know why he would endure this - love.
It is perhaps the events in the Garden of Gethsemane that we realize both the humanity and unwavering love of Jesus. It is in the garden that we hear his prayer, a calling to his Father for the strength to accept the fate that is soon to befall him. It is the last opportunity he would ever have to avoid his fate; yet he remains, humanly troubled yet divinely willing. We listen to him chastise his followers-and us-for sleeping when he needs us the most. It is in knowing that he needs us as much as we should need him-that his love for us is forever and pure-that we truly begin to understand the pain he was about to endure.
We are reminded in the Catechism of the Catholic Church that it is in the passion of Christ that sin is most manifested and displayed (CCC 1851). The crowds calling for his death, Pilate's indifference, the beatings by the guards, the abandonment by Peter and the disciples; through all of this, it is Christ's death on the cross, in which he accepted and offered redemption for all of our sins, that we turn to today and every day.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
The 5th Sunday in Lent - March 29, 2009
At a wedding recently, we were seated next to a retired couple we had not previously met. After introductions, the gentleman proceeded to share with us every detail of his life, beginning with his income and where he spent it, and then relished in telling us all of the famous people he had known and places he had traveled. It was clear that his ego and his desire for worldly possessions dominated his every thought. Like a panhandler, he begged for acceptance and praise, rattling the few coins of his existence in a tin cup that was his life. Never once did he mention his wife sitting next to him or the beautiful wedding we had all just attended. I realized that everything he valued would mean nothing after he was gone.
In today's Gospel reading from John, there is a quote from Jesus that is very much worth discussing. He says, "Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life." In this sense, Jesus is asking us to recognize that all of the things in this worldly life that we seem to value so greatly have no value whatsoever. This is how we "lose our life" and enjoy a new life in the loving arms of Jesus and can begin to bear the fruit of new life just as he describes with a grain of wheat, unable to bloom until it dies.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches us that our baptism is birth into a new life in Christ (CCC 1277). So, too, are we given an opportunity every day to renew this new life. In daily prayer, we are giving thanks for God's many blessings. We must also ask for assistance in "dying unto ourselves," giving up those things which have gathered around us and prevented us from living fully in the light of Christ.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
The 4th Sunday in Lent - March 22, 2009
I want you to try something on your next birthday. When you've gathered with family or friends, and you have enjoyed a nice meal and maybe a little cake (but not too much!), gather the unopened gifts that may have been brought for you and have someone put them on a table just out of your reach. Then, as everyone gathers around you ready to listen to you read the cards and tear off the wrapping paper, tell them that even though you can see the gifts and you know they were given with love, you're not going to open them right now because it's too hard to reach across the table to them. Imagine their reaction!
It is probably one of the most well-known and oft-recited passages in the Bible and is part of today's Gospel reading from John: "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life." In this simple yet so very powerful sentence, we are told that we all are recipients of the greatest gift ever given-eternal life-and all we need to do is to believe. We would never leave a birthday present unwrapped; why, then, do so many choose not to believe? Why do they choose not to unwrap the greatest gift that will ever be given to them?
Whether one attends Mass on a daily or weekly basis, we are forever invited to share in the gift that is Jesus Christ through the sharing of the Eucharist (CCC 1336). When we can finally accept the love from God that was manifested in Jesus himself, and further accept Jesus' gift to us of the redemption of our sins through his willingness to die on the cross, then we will truly live in the glory of eternal life. On this Fourth Sunday of Lent, give thanks for not only for our smaller gifts, but for the greatest gift of all.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
The 3rd Sunday in Lent - March 15, 2009
I've had the opportunity to visit and speak at hundreds of parishes throughout the Midwest, and I've noticed that some have gift shops. Thankfully, most clearly state that their proceeds are shared with local charities, the St. Vincent de Paul Society, etc. But take a look at gift shops from a variety of churches of all faiths from around the country, and you will find coffee mugs, T-shirts, bumper stickers, health and beauty products, incense sticks, even a gold-plated money clip! Somehow, I can easily envision tables being flipped over.
Today's Gospel reading from John recounts Jesus' visit to the Temple in Jerusalem shortly before Passover. There, he finds that the house of his Father has been allowed to be used as a marketplace. In one of the Gospel's rare descriptions of Jesus showing anger and emotion, he turns over the tables and drives the vendors out of the Temple with a whip. But when asked by the elders as to what authority he has to do this, Jesus proclaims that when they tear down the temple, he will rebuild it in three days. He is of course referring to his own body, the temple of the Lord, and his impending death and resurrection.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches us that "the human body shares in the dignity of 'the image of God': it is a human body precisely because it is animated by a spiritual soul, and it is the whole human person that is intended to become, in the body of Christ, a temple of the Spirit" (364). If we truly understand that our bodies are temples, places where God resides in our hearts and souls, then let's turn over those tables of wickedness and sin that dwell within us, and drive them from the temple of the Lord.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
The 2nd Sunday in Lent - March 8, 2009
We have a family friend who simply loves to entertain. No matter what the occasion, she can be counted on to provide the perfect entertainment, accommodations, and most importantly, the most imaginative and delicious food one could imagine. She thinks of everything, and has even been called on by our pastor to cater special parish events, such as the welcoming dinner for our new associate pastor. And on such occasions, we can always be assured that she will cook enough food to feed three times the invited guests, though miraculously nothing goes to waste.
The story of the Transfiguration in today's Gospel from Mark contains a smaller lesson within the lesson, but one no less important. As the brilliant light transfigures Jesus, there appear Moses and Elijah to Peter, James, and John. All three disciples were stunned, but Peter, always one to speak up, offers that it's a good thing Jesus brought them along, because they can build tents for everyone! Of course, God must remind them of why they were really brought along-to bear witness to God's declaration that Jesus is his Son, and that they should listen to him.
It is upon a mountain that God first spoke to Moses and Elijah. At the Transfiguration, Peter, James and John are witness to the presence of the Holy Trinity. And it is here that they first hear of Jesus' rising from the dead, though they are cautioned not to speak of any of what they have seen (CCC 554). What a request! Could we, having witnessed such a glorious event, contain ourselves? Like the generous hostess who has provided far more than seems to be required, we are forever filled with the promise of salvation. Let Jesus Christ speak to you today, and don't just hear him, listen to him!
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
The 1st Sunday in Lent - March 1, 2009
He spent most of his college days creating or recovering from hangovers instead of studying. While his parents had taken him to various Protestant churches as a young boy, God was the furthest thing from his mind. He was expelled from school and soon found himself in the military where his off-duty hours were spent behaving much as he did in college. After his discharge, he aimlessly wandered through life and jobs until a priest who was building a new parish in Chicago offered to introduce him personally to the Catholic faith. At the Rite of Initiation, the man realized that perhaps his own angels had been with him as he wandered through the desert of his former life.
Have you experienced a bit of desert wandering of your own? In today's Gospel from Mark, it is the very beginning of Jesus' public ministry. Upon his baptism by John, the Holy Spirit leads Jesus out into the desert where he remains for forty days. During this time, he is immediately challenged by Satan, but as the Gospel states, "He was among wild beasts, and the angels ministered to him." Can we recognize our beasts, and still rely on our angels?
Throughout Jesus' forty days, his thoughts were always first and foremost with his Father. This saving grace protected him from danger and temptation. Yet we all too frequently choose to seek God's intervention only as a last resort (CCC 2732). Whether we spend our days in the presence of life's temptations or try to battle the beasts and demons that come our way, how can we be so bold as to believe we can do it on our own, when Jesus himself relied on God as his savior and protector? Faith is, was, and shall always be our greatest shield.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
The 7th Sunday in Ordinary Time - February 22, 2009
At the Rosecrance rehabilitation center in Rockford, Illinois, both adolescents and adults come to be treated for serious addictions to drugs and alcohol. For many, their families have brought them there, no longer able to understand, control, or live with a disease which threatens to take their loved one's life if allowed to continue. Caring counselors combine physiological and psychological treatment, but also impart to the residents the need for a spiritual awakening, a need to renew their faith, lift themselves up from their addiction and walk away. It's through the faith of others that they can do this.
The crowds are banging on the door; Jesus is literally being kept from his teachings by the very people he is trying to reach. So overwhelming are they that they climb onto the roof of his house, and tearing a hole in it, they lower down a man paralyzed, begging Jesus to cure him. And he does, but the Gospel of Mark specifically says, "When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, 'Child, your sins are forgiven.'" It is through the faith of those around the paralyzed man that his illness is relieved, and he is able to stand up and walk away.
From its beginning through death, human life is surrounded by guardians, those whose watchful eyes offer care and intercession (CCC 336). No one is forgotten, no one is cast aside even though it seems no one cares. Even as Christ walked to Calvary and those who had followed him now turned their back on him, a woman steps forward to wipe the sweat and blood from his face, a man steps forward to carry his cross when he no longer can. Through the faith of others, we are never alone.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
The 6th Sunday in Ordinary Time - February 15, 2009
Sometimes it is simply impossible to keep a secret, especially good news. Our natural inclination is to "shout it from the mountaintop" even if we were told not to say a word. So, too, is it difficult to keep from blowing our own horn while on that mountaintop. We take it upon ourselves to perform some act of charity for a friend in need, and can't wait to tell someone about it. Part of us feels good about what we've done, but the other part-our pride-seeks recognition from others. But there is really only one whose recognition and approval we will ever need, and God already knows what we've done!
Today's reading from the Gospel of Mark is a perfect example of our inability to keep a secret. A leper is cleansed by Jesus, his disease completely cured. But Jesus explicitly tells the man to keep this to himself and simply give thanks in the temple. Unfortunately, the man cannot keep himself from telling everyone about the miracle that Jesus performed; in doing so, Jesus' ability to carry out his mission is hampered. Unable to simply preach in the villages and towns, he must remain in the outlying areas. Even so, the crowds still find him, though not always for the reasons he sought them.
In the Catechism of the Catholic Church, we are helped to understand the very beautiful and abundant rewards of acts of charity. The fruits of our labor, as they are called, are joy, peace, and mercy (CCC 1829). Jesus speaks on many occasions about the need to keep our good deeds to ourselves. The recipient knows what you have done, as does the Father. Having received joy, peace, and mercy, what more could you ask for!
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
The 5th Sunday in Ordinary Time - February 8, 2009
It was in May of 1873 that a young Belgian priest scaled through a rocky mountainous ridge and first set eyes on the village to which he was called to bring the Word of God. There, 816 people lived isolated from society; the priest not only ministered to their spiritual needs but to their physical needs as well. He did his best to provide medical assistance, he built houses, and he even dug graves, a task too frequently needed because this little village was named Kalaupapa on the Hawaiian Island of Molokai, where those afflicted with leprosy were banished to live. Father Damien contracted the disease as well, but continued his missionary work until his death in 1889 at the age of forty-nine.
Today's reading from the Gospel of Mark tells of Jesus accompanying James, John, Andrew and Simon to see Simon's mother-in-law, who was sick with fever. Jesus relieved her suffering, and then left to pray in solitude. When his disciples found him, he instructed them that they would now begin traveling to other villages in towns in the area, as it was his mission to spread his great news as far and wide as he could, especially to those who would need the saving grace of God the most.
We are taught in the Catechism of the Catholic Church that the Holy Spirit is the leader of the principal mission of the Church, to reach out to the spiritually and physically poor, thus unfolding the path of Christ, a way of service and self-sacrifice even unto death (CCC 852). In our lives, we are presented with opportunities to walk this path with Christ every day. By accepting our mission to reach out to others who need us, we are assured that we will never walk that path alone.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
The 4th Sunday in Ordinary Time - February 1, 2009
Michael Kearney was homeschooled by his parents. At one point, he was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder, though his parents declined to prescribe any medication for it. Michael simply went on to graduate from high school at age six, from junior college at age eight, and he received his Bachelor's degree from the University of South Alabama at age ten. By the time Michael Kearney was seventeen, he had completed two separate masters' degrees and was teaching classes at Vanderbilt University. Imagine that, such a young person as a teacher!
Jesus has just begun his ministry. So far as we can tell, he only has four of the disciples, James, John, Andrew and Simon Peter. On the Sabbath, Jesus calmly walks into the temple, sits down and begins teaching. Immediately, you can sense the elders' anger and ridicule over this "youngster" teaching among them. Impossible, they say. What could he know about the laws? Only when Jesus removes an unclean spirit from another man do the others begin to take serious note of him, and "his fame spread everywhere throughout the whole region of Galilee."
It is said that our lives should be spent in continuous pursuit of knowledge, that we never stop learning. Jesus Christ's mission on earth was one of a teacher, and those who follow him will always be learning. The Catechism of the Catholic Church tells us that Jesus is like a wise teacher, who leads us progressively towards an intimate relationship with God through prayer (CCC 2607). Likewise, just as we are disciples of Christ, our mission is to teach others to grow in faith, hope and charity along with us. Today, pray for an open mind and heart to the teachings of Jesus Christ.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
The Conversion of St. Paul - January 25, 2009
Perhaps you've heard the story about the small-town doctor who always bragged about the big fish he caught. It was hard to believe, but no one could catch heavier fish than him; he even had pictures of them hanging from his personal fish scale showing the weight. One day while fishing, he got an emergency call that a woman had gone into labor at home and he needed to get over there. After the baby was born, the family had nothing to weigh it with so the doctor pulled out his fish scale. The baby came in at twenty-six pounds, fourteen ounces. His prideful ways were revealed.
"Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men." Has anyone ever made a better offer? As Jesus began his ministry, he made a very conscious decision to surround himself not with disciples who considered themselves religious leaders of the day, but rather with ordinary men, men who worked hard, led simple lives, and whose minds were open to a new way of life in Christ. They abandoned their nets in order to take up a life of evangelization. The "nets" of salvation they will offer will in fact give us freedom from sin.
We are all members of the family of God, and Christ stands at the center of this calling. We are taught in the Catechism of the Catholic Church that the kingdom belongs to the poor and lowly, which means those who have accepted it with humble hearts (CCC 544). Throughout his life, he lived among the poor, the sick, and the sinners. He called his disciples from among them, and promised that the last shall be first. Today, you are invited to put down those things which have no real meaning, and take up the Gospel of Christ into your heart.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time - January 18, 2009
Men have a habit that apparently is not shared by their wives. It's called pantry grazing, or cabinet surfing, or raiding the refrigerator. It is a simple process in which we hear a little voice in our heads (or our stomachs) which commands us to find something to eat. Now, most of us are pretty clueless when it comes to what exactly we want or where exactly we might find it. We do our best to graze the pantry or surf the cabinets in solitude, but the minute we open that refrigerator door, our wives are suddenly standing behind us, asking "What are you looking for?"
What are you looking for? Some people spend their entire lives trying to "find themselves" or "find the meaning of life." Sadly, some find neither. Two of John the Baptist's followers were with him when Jesus walked by one day. "Behold, the Lamb of God," John said to them. Immediately, they wanted to be with him, referring to him as rabbi, or teacher. Andrew introduced his brother Simon to Jesus who immediately changed Simon's name to Peter. In this short period of time, these men found the meaning of life-and themselves.
Today's Gospel reading from John tells of the beginning of Jesus' other family, his disciples. The Catechism of the Catholic Church reminds us that "the Christian family is a communion of persons, a sign and image of the communion of the Father and the Son in the Holy Spirit" (CCC 2205). By praying daily and reading the word of God, we strengthen our families and further our ability to spread the Gospel of the Lord, just as those called to Jesus' other family were able to do when they found what they were looking for.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
The Baptism of the Lord - January 11, 2009
Throughout my life, I've been fortunate enough to live in several homes. Nothing fancy, mind you, just enough for a family of four. But each home had one thing in common-a basement. I've always been one of those people who needed someplace to store my "stuff," that junk that accumulates over the years but you can't seem to bring yourself to dispose of. And each of my basements has had something in common as well-they've flooded at least once. Usually, a sump pump decided to quit in the middle of a three-day rainstorm. At some point, I'll wade through the floating "stuff" and announce to my wife that our house has been baptized. Again.
John the Baptist, as he preached of the coming of the Son of God, welcomed every type of sinner to the Jordan River to have their sins washed away, to begin a new life. Why then did Jesus-himself incapable of sin-ask to be baptized by John as well? Just as our baptism welcomes us into the arms of the Church, Jesus' baptism signifies the beginning of his ministerial mission on earth. It is here heis manifested as the Son of God and in possession of the Holy Spirit.
Jesus' immersion in the waters of the Jordan expresses his willingness to self-cleanse everything up to that moment and begin his life as God's suffering servant (CCC 536). Just as Jesus appeared in the crowd of sinners waiting for the saving waters, he is with us today. In this seemingly simple act, he accepted his fate of death on the cross in exchange for the remission of our sins. As you bless yourselves today with holy water, linger a bit on the feel of the water and remember the beloved Son, in whom God is well pleased.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
The Epiphany of the Lord - January 4, 2009
Throughout Germany at this time of year, you will find most main doorways inscribed with the following: 20+C+M+B+09. Children known as Sternsinger (star singers) dress up as the Magi and go door to door, requesting candy for themselves and money for the Church. As they leave, the house is blessed, and the inscription written in chalk. The 20 and 09 refer to the year, the CMB are said to represent either Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar - the Magi - or the Latin Christus Mansionem Benedicat, which means "Christ, bless this home."
Today, we celebrate the feast of the Epiphany, in which we remember the adoration of the newborn Christ by three wise men from the East. This should leave no doubt in anyone's mind just how far and wide the promise of a Savior had spread. These representatives of pagan religions from other lands were determined to pay their respects; it was as if they were born to do this-to acknowledge in some way the beginning of the greatest reign of the greatest king of all.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches us that the Epiphany is the manifestation of Jesus as Messiah of Israel, Son of God and savior of the world (CCC 528). In the three wise men from different lands and different religions, we understand that in Jesus Christ, all are welcome. The Epiphany is the third manifestation of the mystery of the Incarnation, following the Annunciation and the birth of Christ. Today is truly the beginning of the paschal mystery. Perhaps your pastor will bless a piece of chalk for you, or better yet, invite him over for dinner and ask him to bless your home.
©2009 Liturgical Publications Inc
