Tag: lectio divina

Saturday of the Sixteenth Week in Ordinary Time: Reflection

He replied, “No, if you pull up the weeds you might uproot the wheat along with them. Let them grow together until harvest; then at harvest time I will say to the harvesters, ‘First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles for burning; but gather the wheat into my barn.’ ”

In the parable from today’s Gospel reading, Jesus compares the kingdom of heaven to a man who sowed good seed in his field. His enemy sowed weeds throughout the wheat so that both the weeds and the wheat appeared from the soil and would not be separated until harvest. The first reading from Jeremiah tells the story of human wheat and weeds, how evil grows among the living temples of the Lord.

Help me understand, God, that there are people today who do exactly as people did in the first reading, people who “[are to] steal and murder, commit adultery and perjury burn incense to Baal, go after strange gods that you know not.” There are people who reach not for Baal, but who worship what goes beyond the limits of freedom and distort it, thinking, “We are safe; we can commit all these abominations again.” God, help me remember to pray for peace and conversion of heart so that all will worship you alone. In my own life, guide me away from strange gods so that I do always what is pleasing to you.

Jesus, you know that this life is a spiritual battle, that the enemy comes while we are asleep and prospers among us during the day. Can I trust that in me you see a little child, whose fears and anxieties you can scatter with the touch of your hand and a whisper of reassurance that you are ever present?

It is summer, and the weeds have flowered and grown tall. Today, God, help me to acknowledge that they are here for now and will be until the end of time, and help me to work on uprooting the weeds that have grown in the very heart of my own garden. Let the weeds be the weeds and be bundled in time for burning, but let me then be gathered like wheat in your arms.

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Feast of Saint Mary Magdalene: Reflection

Stop holding on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and tell them, “I am going to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.” Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord,” and then reported what he told her.

The first reading from Song of Songs expresses the love Mary must have felt for Jesus and also Mary’s inability to recognize him at once: “The Bride says: On my bed at night I sought him whom my heart loves–I sought him but I did not find him. I will rise then and go about the city; in the streets and crossings I will seek Him whom my heart loves.”

God, thank you for giving us Mary Magdalene as an example of seeking the Lord and remaining in his love. An apostle to the apostles, she was the first to encounter the risen Christ and proclaim to them: “I have seen the Lord.” Help me understand that before I seek you, the desire must be in my heart to carry out seeking you. I ask for the grace to desire to see you—and see you!—as the day unfolds.

I have to consider the things I see daily that obscure my ability to see God. Certain routines, expectations, and long-held goals are so much a part of my vision for each day that inevitably I am missing some of the moments when God is trying to get my attention and guide me. God, come to my assistance so that these obstacles are cleared from my sight. As Emily Dickinson writes in “We Grow Accustomed to the Dark”:

The Bravest—grope a little—
And sometimes hit a Tree
Directly in the Forehead—
But as they learn to see—

Either the Darkness alters—
Or something in the sight
Adjusts itself to Midnight—
And Life steps almost straight.

Today I want to look twice at those closest to me because what I think I’m seeing, I might not be seeing at all. When I think all is well and conforms to expectations that reinforce my habitual way of seeing, when “Life steps almost straight,” let me look again and invite God to get between me and what I’m looking at. To pull that off, I can’t rely on myself or even remember to do that; for that reason, I ask for God’s grace today to be able to see.

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Thursday of the Sixteenth Week in Ordinary Time: Reflection

“This is why I speak to them in parables, because they look but do not see and hear but do not listen or understand.”

The first reading from Jeremiah fits perfectly with Jesus’ words from today’s Gospel reading: “Two evils have my people done: they have forsaken me, the source of living waters; They have dug themselves cisterns, broken cisterns, that hold no water.” The disciples ask Jesus why he speaks to the crowd in parables, and he says that knowledge has been given to the disciples but not to the crowds. This is difficult to understand because it seems that Jesus would want to speak to people clearly and not in parables. Saint Lawrence of Brindisi said the parables are like treasure God has hidden underground, “so that we cannot find it or unearth and possess it without great effort and diligence.”

God, help me understand that to know your will means bringing the hole I have dug for myself to you and asking you to fix it so it can hold water. Jesus’ parable seems pretty straightforward until I try to identify which of the seedbeds I am and realize I am and have been all of them. God, help me understand how to listen out for you during the day to remain in you and stay whole.

It is one of those days where finding early morning quiet time to pray didn’t work. I feel like something is missing, like I’ve forgotten to eat breakfast or double knot my shoelaces. It is good, then, when the desire is there that my brother invites me today to adoration.

Today there is so much I would like to do, so many peaks I’d like to ascend. But I know very well I won’t reach them. God, help me today realize that my way is not your way and if I slow down enough to hear you, I’ll go further than I imagined.

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Wednesday of the Sixteenth Week in Ordinary Time: Reflection

“Some seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it. But some seed fell on rich soil, and produced fruit, a hundred or sixty or thirtyfold. Whoever has ears ought to hear.”

The Parable of the Sower is made clear in the Gospel acclamation: “The seed is the word of God, Christ is the sower; all who come to him will live for ever.” What is the hope in taking in the word of God if it withers, or is consumed by things of this world or choked by them? The hope in taking in the word of God in this life produces abundant spiritual fruit; in the life to come, it means being in God’s presence for all eternity.

In pondering the life now and the life to come, I hesitate to say I experience joy in the thought of eternal life. Yes, I want the word of God to be planted in me so that it produces, but when I consider the life to come, it’s not easy to accept what is unseen and unknown. God, help me understand that if I come into your presence for all eternity, it will not be like any categorization I can dream up. In the Gospel reading from a few days ago, Jesus said, “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.” I believe Jesus meant that for this life, but it also hints at what is in store for me in the life to come. Just as I am restless in this life, in eternal life will I find rest from the restlessness? I don’t know what heaven will be like, but I have things to do here first before I need to worry about that; namely, prepare my soul for the word of God so that it can grow and produce fruit—“a hundred or sixty or thirtyfold.”

Christ is the sower. If I look for Christ, I have found the word of God; I have found the Word. Christ, show me how to better the ground and deepen the soil to receive your word. I struggle to produce in this life words that are good and actions that lead others to you, so I will surely need help from you to prepare for the life to come.

Today let me trust that Jesus is beside me in the trials of the day. I know that if I’m not careful, I’ll have a white-knuckled grip on the wheel today. I want more out of a day, each and every day; I want to produce on my terms and produce the fruit of my own imaginings. Can I let go of the wheel? Let me trust through the Holy Spirit that God the Father and his Son will direct me through this day if I remain open to receiving God’s word.

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Tuesday of the Sixteenth Week in Ordinary Time: Reflection

“But he said in reply to the one who told him, ‘Who is my mother? Who are my brothers?’ And stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of my heavenly Father is my brother, and sister, and mother.’ ”

Jesus leaves no doubt that whoever does the will of God is his brother and sister and mother. He includes everybody in this so much so that to follow him sometimes means showing brotherly or sisterly love or maternal care. In the first reading from the book of Micah, God is the only one who models such compassion for us:

Who is there like you, the God who removes guilt
and pardons sin for the remnant of his inheritance;
Who does not persist in anger forever,
but delights rather in clemency,
And will again have compassion on us,
treading underfoot our guilt?

God, as one of the remnant of your inheritance, a follower of Jesus, I want to understand that it is your will to forgive others and show mercy and that it pleases you when I do the same. Thank you for the gift of your Son in naming me as one of his brothers by doing your will.

Jesus, my Lord and my God, your Father sent you to take on human form—true God and true man—to show in word and deed how to be your brother. If I am to be a brother to you, let me know through the Holy Spirit what your will is and how to do it.

If I am to be a brother and sister and mother today, let me have the tender care of others as a way made clearly visible. God, you respect my free will, so let me choose in each decision of the day what is good and merciful and pleasing to you.

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Monday of the Sixteenth Week in Ordinary Time: Reflection

“At the judgment the queen of the south will arise with this generation and condemn it, because she came from the ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon; and there is something greater than Solomon here.”

The scribes and Pharisees ask Jesus for a sign, and he tells them there will be no sign except the sign of Jonah the prophet. He then goes on to describe his death and resurrection. Just as Jonah was in the heart of the sea, Jesus predicts the same amount of time being in “the heart of the earth.” The queen of the South, the queen of Sheba, came from far away to hear the wisdom of Solomon. By referring to the prophet Jonah and Solomon, Jesus says there is something greater than Solomon (prophecy and wisdom), which he brings to all people.

God, I imagine that your son was frustrated to respond to the scribes and Pharisees who demand a sign. According to Matthew, by this point in Jesus’ public ministry, he had cured many people, exorcised demons, and calmed the forces of nature. Word gets out! How many signs would he have to perform before the scribes and Pharisees believed in his divinity? And that unbelief goes on today. How many days do I put on self-reliance and fail to see God at work in my life and in the lives of those around me? In the first reading from Micah, it is clear what God does not want: burnt offerings, thousands of rams, or myriad streams of oil. Instead, he says, “You have been told, O man, what is good, and what the LORD requires of you: Only to do the right and to love goodness, and to walk humbly with your God.”

Many voices rush in—what I should have said or done, what I will say or do. God is apart from that yet in it. Lord, I know you want me to walk humbly with you, so if only I let that expression of your love rest in my heart amid the day’s commotion, that will be my sign.

Today I want to live in the truth and realize that God has told me through the Word Incarnate, through the church, and through my conscience what is good. Let me not fall for the lie that what is good is relative or gray. Truth is goodness; goodness is truth. Knowing that is half the battle.

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Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time: Reflection

“Jesus entered a village
where a woman whose name was Martha welcomed him.
She had a sister named Mary
who sat beside the Lord at his feet listening to him speak.
Martha, burdened with much serving, came to him and said,
‘Lord, do you not care
that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving?
Tell her to help me.’
The Lord said to her in reply,
‘Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things.
There is need of only one thing.
Mary has chosen the better part
and it will not be taken from her.’ ”

It is generally accepted that Martha, Mary, and their brother Lazarus (whom Jesus raised from the dead) were close friends. With this in mind, I can’t help wondering just how this scene played out. Culturally, Martha was observing the customs of serving an guest while Mary sat beside Jesus listening to him speak. The each chose a part. Was this a playful moment as Martha called out Mary’s behavior? Did they joke with each other? Or was Jesus responding to Martha’s anxiety, trying to ease it and offer her the same peace of choosing “the one thing needful,” the better part?

God, only you know your intentions, where are our hearts are. But there is a certain seriousness when Jesus says, “and it will not be taken from her.” In her commitment to doing the customary thing, Martha chose to serve, to keep busy, just as Mary chose to be present, together two sides of a coin. Mary’s choice, though, is something that will not be taken from her.

Some days I wriggle and squirm while trying to stay present with God in prayer. Mary has chosen the better part and is a model for contemplative prayer. Let me follow her example.

Today let me find a bit of quiet certainty that you are near—whether outdoors among the trees and grasses or indoors among people and their expressions.

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Saturday of the Fifteenth Week in Ordinary Time: Reflection

“The Pharisees went out and took counsel against Jesus to put him to death. When Jesus realized this, he withdrew from that place. Many people followed him, and he cured them all, but he warned them not to make him known.”

Followed by a quotation from Isaiah to show how Jesus fulfilled what he had said, this excerpt from today’s Gospel reading shows Jesus doing these things: realizing that the Pharisees were trying to kill him, withdrawing from them, curing people around him, and warning them not to make him known. He does this to fulfill what Isaiah had said: “He will not contend or cry out, nor will anyone hear his voice in the streets. . . . And in his name the Gentiles will hope.”

God, help me understand that you have a purpose in mind for every time. There would be a time when Jesus contended with the Pharisees, but not yet. Instead, he withdrew from them and cured all he met who sought healing.

I am certain of one thing, Lord: I don’t fully understand what purpose you have in mind for me. Understanding your will has been and always will be a moving target because the experiences of life call for ever-shifting responses. There will be a time for me to contend and a time for me to work quietly to restore wholeness in relationships and responsibilities. As in Ecclesiastes: “There is an appointed time for everything, and a time for every affair under the heavens.” Teach me, Lord, my purpose in every situation and give me the grace to hear and do your will.

In the hours that follow this moment, unless I am vigilant, I will forget today’s reading and how it addresses my needs. Today I want to pause from time to time to consider that God takes delight in me as much as he does in his son: “Behold, my servant whom I have chosen, my beloved in whom I delight; I shall place my Spirit upon him.” The question for me is, To what extend will I stand shoulder to shoulder with Jesus, proclaiming justice and bringing hope to those around me?

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Memorial of Saint Bonaventure, Bishop and Doctor of the Church: Reflection

“When the Pharisees saw this, they said to him, ‘See, your disciples are doing what is unlawful to do on the sabbath. . . .’ Then Jesus said: ‘I say to you, something greater than the temple is here. If you knew what this meant, I desire mercy, not sacrifice, you would not have condemned these innocent men. For the Son of Man is Lord of the sabbath.’ ”

The Pharisees point out to Jesus the unlawful actions of the disciples. They are bound by law and respond out of reverence for the law to bring others back to order. There’s nothing wrong with this in itself. What is lawful is for the good of all, and presents society with a common code of conduct. From the Pharisees’ perspective, law was sacred. Jesus’ response does not negate law but draws on scripture and Jewish sacred customs to point to something greater than the law. By doing this, he not only sets an example for others, but as Lord of the sabbath, he places love over the law.

God, help me understand how to quiet my judgmental side when there is an opportunity to place love over the law. In my closest relationships, I have the chance dozens of times throughout the day to show love and understanding rather than reinforce or shore up “the way things are done.” Who’s got this task? Why didn’t this get done? How close is ______ to completion? (Do I have to do this myself?)

“Leave them alone,” Jesus seems to say to the Pharisees. Something greater is at stake than the temple than rigid obedience to the law. “I offer you my prayers, works, joys, and sufferings of this day for all the intentions of your Sacred Heart.” In your mercy, Lord, please accept them.

Today I will without a doubt face structures—ways of doing things—that need shoring up. Some of that is good and necessary, but some of it becomes secondary to love. Let me see if I can put order second today in place of love. Let St. Augustine’s “love God and do as you will” be in my heart today and let order for the sake of order take a back seat. I desire mercy, not sacrifice. If I remember that today, I think that would be pleasing to God.

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Memorial of Saint Kateri Tekakwitha, Virgin: Reflection

“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.”

Today’s reading is placed in Matthew’s Gospel between the headings “The Praise of the Father” and “Picking Grain on the Sabbath.” The heading for today is “The Gentle Mastery of Christ.” Although Jesus says in today’s reading that in coming to him you will find rest, really all three passages relate to resting in the Father and his Son.

In praising the Father, there is childlike rest in what is hidden from the wise and the learned; in picking grain on the Sabbath, the disciples satiate their hunger in picking the heads of grain as Jesus, the Lord of the Sabbath, defends the mercy he shows them. And the gentle mastery of Christ is the yoke of authentic humility and the burden that is light of loving one another. God, help me desire and understand how to take the yoke and burden of your son in a way that pleases you.

Jesus addresses the already burdened and offers to take the burden off of others’ shoulders, replacing it with his: “For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.” I think God is teaching me in today’s readings that by the countless burdens I bear (some placed on myself), I will gain nothing unless the burden is his. If I lose mine to bear his—for his sake, for the glory of God—the weight will be feather-light; in it, I’ll find rest.

Today let me rest in the gentle mastery of Christ, being able to recognize his yoke and burden when I come to him.

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