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Tuesday of the Fifteenth Week in Ordinary Time: Reflection

“Jesus began to reproach the towns where most of his mighty deeds had been done, since they had not repented.”

In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus reproaches the towns where he had performed many miracles, including raising Jairus’s daughter from the dead. The people of the town had not repented, so Jesus says to them: “Woe to you, Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the mighty deeds done in your midst had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would long ago have repented in sackcloth and ashes.”

Help me understand, God, the mighty deeds you are capable of doing. Even before your son’s resurrection, you showed your power over life and death. What other forces are in your hands—life itself, natural forces, and all you created! Jesus’ frustration among the people who witnessed his miracles is clear in the “woes” he utters. What he said to Chorazin and Bethsaida, he says today: repent, turn back. From Greek, we have the word metanoia, “a transformative change of heart especially: a spiritual conversion.” God says the same in the first reading from Isaiah: “Unless your faith is firm you shall not be firm!” How clear is that?

Here I am, Lord. I know it is not enough to simply be in your presence and keep it to myself. Yet, in the midst of the day, my mind whirling with inchoate thoughts of what I might do, need to do, and would like to do, it is enough for me to turn back to you even for a moment. I ask for the grace to return to you from time to time throughout the day, even to say, “Be with me.”

When I hear words like repent and zeal, I can’t help thinking of televangelist I would occasionally stumble across while watching TV as a teenager. Let me just say that to me their zeal was not contagious. It takes time to detach such key elements of faith from their stereotypical, histrionic representation. But if I consider Jesus’ reproach (Jesus, who has power over life and death) and my response to this with eyes glazed over, I can only ask for God’s grace to be in awe of his mighty deeds and to know again and again a change of heart.

Readings

Audio

Memorial of Saint Benedict, Abbot: Reflection

“Jesus said to his Apostles: ‘Whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.’ ”

In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus tells his disciples about the conditions of discipleship. Rather than bringing peace upon the earth, Jesus says that he has come “to set a man against his father, a daughter against her mother . . . and one’s enemies will be those of the household.” In that is the sword. The kind of division that Jesus brings results from placing father or mother or son or daughter above God.

Thank you God for sending your Son to draw a line in the sand, not to cause division but to show the way to everlasting life: “Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” If Jesus was not the Son of God, he was a lunatic for saying, “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me.” How else could he put loving him before loving mother or father or son or daughter?

In quiet moments set aside to spend time with God alone, my mind wanders all over the place. “Oh, the things I’ll do today,” it seems to say. I have to smile in the silence, not because I know I’ll find a way to accomplish all of my goals but because if I smile, maybe that will help me recall that I am in the presence of God alone in that moment. Sometimes that works, sometimes it doesn’t, but God stays put while I try to find him.

Is there one way I can think of to love God above all else today? Could it be fasting or going to adoration or putting my work aside to say a prayer in the afternoon? Today, the memorial of Saint Benedict, could it be that I offer my works, joys, and sufferings this day in union with the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass throughout the world. Let me recall Saint Benedict’s wisdom in ora et labora (pray and work).

Readings

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time: Reflection

But because the scholar of the law wished to justify himself, he said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

Jesus’ reply to this question follows what he told the scholar of the law just before this:

“You shall love the Lord, your God,
with all your heart,
with all your being,
with all your strength,
and with all your mind,
and your neighbor as yourself.”

It’s hard to imagine what in Jesus’ time was the common understanding of a neighbor was. Was it someone who lived next door, was it a fellow laborer, was it those who shared the same culture and faith traditions? Similarly, it’s hard to define in today’s world. Next door neighbor? Social media friend? Fellow churchgoer? Jesus describes a neighbor who doesn’t quite fit into any of those categories. Rather, the man who fell victim to robbers is alien to those who encounter him on the road to Jericho. He is the kind of person most people would run from, not wanting to get involved and perhaps themselves become victims. In the victim in this parable, there is something totally other—the antithesis of the neighbor.

God, help me understand what a neighbor is; I’m afraid I don’t know. I have to smile and think of Mr. Rogers and his television neighborhood. He brought everybody into his neighborhood, invited guests into his home, and went out of it to visit others for the sake of teaching children about different professions and vocations. He gathered people in and went out to meet others. The good Samaritan is good because he sees in this antithesis of a neighbor a means to pour out his love to restore him to health and wholeness. Who is my neighbor? The “not-me” I see in others; the half-dead, alienated soul; the one with wounds who needs to be cared for, who needs mercy.

As I approach Communion, I think of the wounds of Christ on the cross, particularly the nails in his feet and wrists. Never having experienced anything close to such a wound, I can’t imagine the pain. The God-Man bore that pain for the salvation of the world. For others, in his life and through the sacraments, he heals physical and spiritual wounds. Over the wounds of the victim in the parable, the Samaritan poured oil and wine. How the man fell victim, being robbed of wholeness, is significant. Through healing oil (sacred oil/extreme unction) and wine (the blood of Christ outpoured), the wounds are treated to restore the man’s health and bring him to wholeness.

“ ‘Which of these three, in your opinion, was neighbor to the robbers’ victim?’ Jesus asks. The scholar of the law answered, ‘The one who treated him with mercy.’ ” Let me remember today that when I see others as “other,” I am on the way to seeing them as neighbors and learning what it means to treat them with mercy. Who is my neighbor? I hesitate to say. Isn’t it that other me (“your neighbor as yourself”) who is not alien after all but waits to be invited, to be shown the mercy and wholeness only God can give?

Readings

Saturday of the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time: Reflection

“What I say to you in the darkness, speak in the light; what you hear whispered, proclaim on the housetops. And do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather, be afraid of the one who can destroy both soul and body in Gehenna. Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father’s knowledge. Even all the hairs of your head are counted. So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.”

Twice in these few statements Jesus says, “Do not be afraid.” He tells the Apostles to proclaim on the housetops what he has whispered to them, to speak in the light what he has said in the darkness. I’m not sure why Jesus says that he has whispered to them and spoken in secret except to say that he sets an example by healing others in Matthew’s accounts of Jesus’ ministry and by nurturing them in baby steps toward discipleship: “No disciple is above his teacher.”

When he tells the Apostles not to be afraid, he refers to death and oblivion. Just as Isaiah describes the Lord’s mercy toward him and his people, addressing his fear (“Woe is me, I am doomed.”), Jesus addresses the fear of the Apostles. Don’t be afraid of physical death, he tells them; fear instead the death of both soul and body. He then gives the Apostles the assurance that not a sparrow falls without the Father’s knowledge and that they are worth more than many sparrows. When I see this through the filter of present-day conceptions of self-worth, the statement sounds demeaning, almost comical. Gee, thanks! I want to say. But when I call to mind my own limitations and falling into sin, it is comforting to know that only the Father sees all and knows my true worth.

As Jesus said to his Apostles, he would say to me: “You are worth more than many sparrows.” I am flesh and blood, body and soul whose every move the Father has knowledge of. Such tender care the Father has for me that all the hairs of my head—even the ones about to fall out—are counted.

The first reading from Isaiah describes the Lord seated on a high and lofty throne. The seraphim cry to one another, “Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts! All the earth is filled with his glory!” If I could take time to see the beauty of the outdoors today, I wonder if I could quietly take that in and look around in gratitude to God for the gift of the natural world that surrounds me. “Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty! Early in the morning our song shall rise to thee.”

Readings

Friday of the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time: Reflection

“Behold, I am sending you like sheep in the midst of wolves; so be shrewd as serpents and simple as doves. But beware of men, for they will hand you over to courts and scourge you in their synagogues, and you will be led before governors and kings for my sake as a witness before them and the pagans.”

Jesus’ statement “so be shrewd as serpents and simple as doves” seems contradictory out of context. Yet, taking into consideration what he is asking the Apostles to do, he is giving them in these few words a survival strategy. The directive still applies today along with this supporting instruction: “When they hand you over, do not worry about how you are to speak or what you are to say.”

God, help me arrive at the full realization that in today’s Gospel reading, I hear the words of your son. In so many ways, he would have us not worry and be at peace. Can I bring that understanding to mind with me during the discord and strife, doubt and uncertainty that is certain to come today? I ask that the Spirit of the Father speaks and acts through me if I fail to be cognizant of this. I am, after all, able to be aware of only so much during the day, which does not in itself prevent me from being in God’s presence and bringing his peace to others.

I am capable of little alone. This I know from quiet moments in prayer when I try and fail to shut out distractions and racing thoughts, but God sets me straight as the day goes on. “’Tis the gift to be simple, ’tis the gift to be free, ’tis the gift to come down where we ought to be.” As the day goes on while I take care of the necessities of work and others’ needs, I’ll be given at that moment what I am to say and do. “Be shrewd as serpents and simple as doves.”

Today, another summer day I will only dream about in the middle of winter, I have lots of opportunities to bring simplicity into the day while being as shrewd as a serpent in choosing what I say and do in front of family and others. Let me be simple and wise today so that I can see the path that God opens for me.

Gospel Readings

Audio

Friday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time: Reflection

“Not a famine of bread, or thirst for water, but for hearing the word of the LORD.” (Am 11) “ ‘Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?’ He heard this and said, ‘Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. Go and learn the meaning of the words, I desire mercy, not sacrifice. I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.’ ” (Mt 9:9-13)

In yesterday’s Gospel reading, Jesus as the Divine Physician healed the paralytic by forgiving his sins. Today, Jesus calls Matthew to follow him. Again, acting as the Divine Physician, he sees in Matthew and the other sinners who came, a sickness that calls for healing. The sickness is sin, but the sickness is also contained in the mystery of evil, which envelops all of human sin and is rooted in original sin and the cause of physical, mental, and spiritual woundedness. “In consequence of original sin human nature, without being totally corrupted, is wounded in its natural powers. It is subject to ignorance, to suffering, and to the dominion of death and is inclined toward sin. This inclination is called concupiscence” (Compendium of the Catechism of the Catholic Church). God’s ultimate response to this is Jesus, who comes not to call the righteous but sinners.

God, you desire mercy, not sacrifice. Help me understand each day that mercy is an activity of the soul. Let me remember my ABCs: I can ask you for mercy, be merciful to others, and completely trust in your mercy (The ABCs of Divine Mercy).

I am like Martha, anxious and worried about many things. With you, Lord, I am not a quiet little lamb but a squirming bundle of energy waiting to be released. Jesus, I look at your dust-covered feet and know they carried you slowly from place to place in no particular hurry. I want to stop trying to hit goals for the sake of self-satisfaction, often resulting in frustration. Instead, I want to slow down and keep sight of you so that I can follow where you lead.

Today I am bound to go on at my customs post, carrying out my routine of working and being with family. Let me be attentive throughout the day to look out for Jesus passing by, and let my heart be willing to follow him, whatever that might mean. I want to invite Jesus into my house, my routines, so that I can receive and be glad for the mercy he offers me.

USCCB Readings

Tuesday of the Tenth Week in Ordinary Time: Reflection

“Just so, your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.”

In the last few words of today’s Gospel reading, Jesus asks directly that others “may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.” In the Prayer of Jesus in John’s Gospel, Jesus says, “Give glory to your son, so that your son may glorify you.”

God, help me understand how Jesus models holiness: the gifts you gave me I have so that I can glorify you by my words and actions. What pleases you? What power do I have to let my light shine before others, not for myself but for others; not for my sake but for your glory?

When I try to quiet down and hear you, God, I feel as if I am a bundle of unpotentiated action. My thoughts of what I might accomplish have the opposite, unintended consequence of dragging me down, holding me back. God, I know you want me to sit with you in peace, not squirming, not wishing to get up and get on with things, but to recharge, to bask in your presence and know your love.

“A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden,” Jesus says. Today I have the opportunity to make my city gleam and give glory to my heavenly Father. It’s so easy to mess up; to make a mountain out of a molehill on any given day. But today I want to recognize and show others the gifts that God gave me for the sake of giving him glory.

USCCB Readings

Saturday of the Seventh Week of Easter Mass in the Morning: Reflection

Jesus said to him, “What if I want him to remain until I come? What concern is it of yours? You follow me.”

After the Resurrection, Peter asks Jesus whether John will be the one to betray Jesus. The terseness of Jesus’ reply to the man who will become the first leader of the Church seems unwarranted. Where is the tenderness in Jesus’ spiritual formation and care of Peter? The response seems harsh and abrupt.

Even in yesterday’s readings, Jesus asks Peter three times if he loves him, and Peter affirms Jesus’ divinity by saying, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Peter seems to want to know more about what will happen and who will play what role. God, help me understand that you work through your Son in ways that fail human comprehension. Did Jesus see in Peter a lack of trust in the Divine plan? Did he want to redirect Peter to his role in leading the disciples and spreading the Gospel? Whatever the purpose of this response, Jesus calls attention to the spiritual reality that man’s ways are not God’s ways and that some things and the actions of others are out of our hands. “You follow me,” Jesus says.

God, show me today how to trust in the words of your Son: “What concern is it of yours?” Help me recognize my gifts and be less concerned about others’ shortcomings. I know you want me to see you at work in my small sphere of interaction and in the whole world. I know you want me to be at work today on foundations you lay and not on shifting sand. For this, you will need to stay with me, Lord.

Today let me remember that to face the things I can’t control, I can give back to God and say, “What concern is this of mine?” That’s easy to say at this moment, but in the midst of the day, things get complicated. God, give me the ability throughout the day to call on the gifts you gave me and the guidance of the Holy Spirit to know my part and yours. Your will, not mine.

USCCB Readings

April 25, 2022—Feast of St. Mark the Evangelist

USCCB Readings

“Then the Lord Jesus, after he spoke to them, was taken up into heaven and took his seat at the right hand of God. But they went forth and preached everywhere, while the Lord worked with them and confirmed the word through accompanying signs.”

As I listen to the Gospel reading, I’m struck by the phrase “while the Lord worked with them.” Although Jesus had ascended into heaven, he continued to work with the disciples, confirming the word through signs that instilled faith in the lives of those the disciples touched. From there, recognizing that this is the risen Jesus working with them, it’s one short step to say that he works still with all of us today.

Thank you, God, for sending your Son, who remains with us and is at the same time seated at your right hand. Just as Jesus worked with the disciples, he works with us today to proclaim the Gospel to every creature. God, help me understand what it means to proclaim the Good News; what news there is today is not good, and the Gospel seems to have little effect in dispelling the darkness.

Jesus Christ, light of the world, be my light today as you work with me to proclaim you today to those you give me the Good News. From today’s psalm: “Blessed the people who know the joyful shout; in the light of your countenance, O LORD, they walk.”

At the end of today, I’d like to think back and be certain that whatever I do, the Lord worked with me to proclaim the Gospel even in humble ways. In today’s first reading, Saint Peter says, “So humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time. Cast all your worries upon him because he cares for you.” I’m sure today’s worries will abound; when today’s work is done, what certainty of faith will I claim that the Lord worked with me to share the Good News of his life, death, and resurrection?

April 20, 2022—Wednesday of Easter Week

USCCB Readings

“Jesus himself drew near and walked with them, but their eyes were prevented from recognizing him. He asked them, ‘What are you discussing as you walk along?’ They stopped, looking downcast. One of them, named Cleopas, said to him in reply, ‘Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know of the things that have taken place there in these days?’ ”

In yesterday’s reading, it was Mary Magdalene who did not recognize Jesus (“When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus there,
but did not know it was Jesus.”); today, it’s Cleopas and another follower of Jesus (“but their eyes were prevented from recognizing him”).

God, help me understand that there are bound to be countless times today when I don’t recognize you, where my eyes prevent me from recognizing you even when you are in plain sight.

With all of the distractions I face when I quiet myself, it is sometimes all I can do to say, “Here, God, this is all yours. I don’t know what to do with it. Take it, bless it, make it into something good.”

Today let me be full-sighted, to understand that seeing what is right before me is sometimes an illusion—the work I have ahead of me, the tasks I hope to accomplish before the day is over, the hundred little distractions. God, help me to recognize you and, even more, do your will.