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

Thursday of the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time: Reflection

“Whatever town or village you enter, look for a worthy person in it, and stay there until you leave.
As you enter a house, wish it peace. If the house is worthy, let your peace come upon it; if not, let your peace return to you.”

What Jesus says in the Gospel reading, the first reading from Hosea expresses tenderly and lyrically: “I fostered them like one who raises an infant to his cheeks; Yet, though I stooped to feed my child, they did not know that I was their healer.” By bringing the kingdom of heaven to others, Jesus and his disciples bring God the Father to those who hear his voice. As Father Burke Masters says in his reflection on today’s reading, “Jesus in his person is where heaven and earth meet.”

God, help me understand that when God addresses his apostles, he is also addressing me. It is overwhelming to think that the mission he sends his disciples on is to “Cure the sick, raise the dead,
cleanse the lepers, drive out demons.” Although I will probably never encounter a leper, I know what it means to see someone who is physically or mentally sick or even spiritually dead, possessed not by a demon but by seeking honor, power, pleasure, or wealth. This is where the kingdom of heaven is needed and where peace comes to others without cost.

It is sometimes so hard to find a few “stolen” moments to sit quietly in the morning with God. I know that God wants me to spend time with him, and so today I offer my works, joys, and sufferings as a way to pray constantly. God, help me bring this desire to its most complete fulfillment through your grace.

Today I want to see the merciful Father in Hosea who says, “For I am God and not man, the Holy One present among you; I will not let the flames consume you.” Although I don’t deserve God’s mercy, I want to recognize it and receive it to the best of my ability.

Today’s readings

Tuesday of the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time: Reflection

“At the sight of the crowds, his heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, ‘The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest.’ ”

In the beginning of today’s Gospel reading, a demoniac who could not speak is brought to Jesus. When he cures the man, he spoke. A parallel of this appears in today’s Psalms, where the psalmist describes the handmade idols of pagans: “They have mouths but speak not; they have eyes but see not; They have ears but hear not; they have noses but smell not.”

God, help me understand Jesus’ pity for the crowds. At a recent Mass, I heard the priest put it this way during the homily: Jesus went among the sick, the poor, the neglected—places most people avoid. Surely, the pity and compassion Jesus felt for these people he felt for the well off who have every material comfort but are troubled and abandoned even among family. Jesus’ compassionate response to the crowds is to pray for laborers—the faithful hearers and doers of his word—for his harvest.

Even when I try to quiet my mind, the noise and confusion of today’s agenda rushes in, assorted tasks that all demand to be placed first. Lies, all lies. If I can simply remember to hear and do God’s word and have his merciful heart, what is needful will be accomplished.

Today let me remember to hear and do God’s word. If I become mute and paralyzed today in word or deed, bound in some way by sin, let Jesus be my recourse to restore my ability to help in his harvest and be a doer of God’s will. Again from the Psalms: “Our God is in heaven; whatever he wills, he does.” If my will is God’s—that is, if I offer my day to him and not for the sake of worldly success—half the battle is fought because he will accomplish the rest.

Daily Readings

Monday of the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time

From the Gospel according to Matthew
MT 9:18-26

While Jesus was speaking, an official came forward,
knelt down before him, and said,
“My daughter has just died.
But come, lay your hand on her, and she will live.”
Jesus rose and followed him, and so did his disciples.
A woman suffering hemorrhages for twelve years came up behind him
and touched the tassel on his cloak.
She said to herself, “If only I can touch his cloak, I shall be cured.”
Jesus turned around and saw her, and said,
“Courage, daughter! Your faith has saved you.”
And from that hour the woman was cured.When Jesus arrived at the official’s house
and saw the flute players and the crowd who were making a commotion,
he said, “Go away! The girl is not dead but sleeping.”
And they ridiculed him.
When the crowd was put out, he came and took her by the hand,
and the little girl arose.
And news of this spread throughout all that land.

From a reflection by Pope Francis:

It is a matter of two interlocking narratives, with a single core: faith; and they show Jesus as the wellspring of life, as the One who restores life to those who trust fully in him. The two protagonists, that is, the little girl’s father and the sick woman, are not disciples of Jesus yet they are satisfied through their faith. They have faith in that man. From this we understand that all are permitted on the Lord’s path: no one should feel as an intruder, an interloper or one who has no right. To have access to His heart, to Jesus’ heart, there is only one requirement: to feel in need of healing and to entrust yourself to Him. (Angelus, 1 July 2018)

USCCB Readings

Saturday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time: Reflection

“People do not put new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise the skins burst, the wine spills out, and the skins are ruined. Rather, they pour new wine into fresh wineskins, and both are preserved.”  

Jesus is new wine. He is the fullness of God’s mercy, so his capacity outstrips any limitation I might place on him. “Can the wedding guests mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them?” In the Eucharist, Jesus is both the reason for the feast and the feast itself.

God, help me understand your abundance. From the first reading: “The juice of grapes shall drip down the mountains, and all the hills shall run with it.” There is no lack of your abundance, no diminishment over time or from use. Now, in the heart of summer, I can’t help thinking of you as a bumper crop that is always in season.

In his Introduction to the Devout Life, St. Frances de Sales simply says, “Place yourself in the Presence of God.” Myriad thoughts occupy my mind, and I seem to skip from one thought to another. I know God asks that I spend time with him; in moments like this, I ask my guardian angel to pray for me as I try to sit still. Does it work? How would I know? But I ask God to be with me throughout the day, and I know he will be when I extend my hand toward him.

Today’s Gospel acclamation gets at that: “My sheep hear my voice, says the Lord; I know them, and they follow me.” I sometimes wake up wondering where the joy has gone, why I don’t smile while thinking of what is in store for me. And what is in store for me doesn’t place me in a passive role. What God has in store for me, though, might be completely at odds with what I myself believe about the day. And that’s where I have to listen for his voice and trust in his superabundance. There’s more than enough! Can I just get that in my head? God’s grace overflows. With him is the feast, the fullness of a summer day: “Plant vineyards and drink the wine, set out gardens and eat the fruits.”

USCCB Readings

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

Thursday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time: Reflection

Jesus knew what they were thinking, and said, “Why do you harbor evil thoughts? Which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Rise and walk’ ”?

The scribes who say that Jesus is blaspheming by saying to the paralytic “your sins are forgiven” don’t believe that Jesus is the Son of God. Compared to the people who brought the paralytic to Jesus, who do have faith, they are critical of him and his ability to heal physical and spiritual illnesses.

God, help me understand how you work among your people. Among the stories of Jesus healing people, they come to him, almost always reaching out for him. That is to say, the Divine Physician does not force himself on us. “When Jesus saw their faith. . . .”

God, I believe; help my unbelief. I know you want me to come to you and ask anything in your name. Teach me to call you to mind throughout the day.

Jesus crossed the sea to meet the people in a boat, the church. I will make many crossings today to meet others. Will I judge or be forgiving? Will I harm or heal?

USCCB Readings

Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul, Apostles: Reflection

Jesus said, “And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.”

Jesus asks Peter to build his Church. This is the same man who denied Christ three times, and Jesus was aware of Peter’s weaknesses.

God, help me understand that although I am limited by natural gifts and life experience (and by sin and wrongdoing), you say to Peter, “I will build my Church.” The same goes for me. It is not under my own power that your Church will thrive but through God’s grace and the saving power of the Son of the living God. You know my shortcomings and provide for me when I am sorry for my sins.

“Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” Jesus asks his disciples. I can hear Jesus ask me the same: Who do you say that I am? I know that Jesus is the Son of the living God, that he runs through every fiber of my being and through every relationship I have. If I truly acknowledge that, what would prevent God from being with me through every moment of the day? If the Creator of the Universe is there before me, what person or thing or activity would I put between me and him? But where is he—nowhere to be seen—that I could put him first? That he is unseen doesn’t matter. “We believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen.”

Today I want to listen for Jesus’ words. I want to be able to slow down enough and go outside myself enough to hear him say, “And so I say to you, Jim. . . .” In the things and people I encounter today, I want to see Jesus’ divine identity present and respond to Jesus saying, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”

USCCB Readings

Memorial of Saint Irenaeus, Bishop and Martyr: Reflection

“They came and woke him, saying, ‘Lord, save us!  We are perishing!’ He said to them, ‘Why are you terrified, O you of little faith?’ Then he got up, rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was great calm. The men were amazed and said, ‘What sort of man is this, whom even the winds and the sea obey?’ ”

The Gospel acclamation for today’s reading says, “I trust in the LORD; my soul trusts in his word.” In the Gospel reading from Matthew, when Jesus calms the storm, it is the Word Incarnate who calms the storm. Unlike human beings whose words are carried through into action in a limited way, Jesus, the Son of God, speaks actions into existence. “Then he got up, rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was great calm.”

Most of what I know and observe every day relates to human action in the world; consequently, I come to believe in the material limits of that action. God, help me understand your limitless power in the world. You speak, and your very word brings being into the world. Consider your justice, as today’s Psalm describes it: “no evil man remains with you; the arrogant may not stand in your sight.” With you, no evil remains; in your presence, arrogance is nonexistent because it is a lie. “I trust in the LORD; my soul trusts in his word.” Yet, you respect free will and let all choose you or reject you—choose you a little, choose you wholeheartedly, or reject you altogether.

“Lord, save us! We are perishing!” These words of the disciples Jesus hears and responds to immediately. The little faith they had poured forth from them when they needed Jesus to intervene. It was a small thing for Jesus to calm the winds and the sea. The result: great calm. It is a small thing for Jesus to rebuke the daily fears and terrors. “I can’t,” I often tell myself throughout the day. When I ask for his help, Jesus speaks into reality the direct opposition to fear: “Oh yes you can!” And there is great peace in trusting he holds good to his word.

As I travel in this vessel, the sunlit day, I want to remember what unearthly power is in it with me. At the end of the day, let me see where God was present. Let me look back and see that I was the one who had little faith, the one amazed at the man “whom even the winds and sea obey.”

USCCB Readings