Ash Wednesday is not a holy day of obligation in the Roman Catholic Church, but it is an important day in the church year, and in particular, in the season of Lent. Many Catholics attend Mass on Ash Wednesday, and make a concerted effort to receive ashes on their foreheads. It is one of the most attended days of the year, following Christmas and Easter.

The first liturgy for Ash Wednesday that included the sprinkling of ashes dates back to about the year 960. Before that time, ashes had been used as a sign of admission to the Order of Penitents. At the beginning of the 11 ^th century, it became common for the faithful to take part in a ceremony on the Wednesday before Lent which included the imposition of ashes. That day came to be called Ash Wednesday.

It is customary in many parishes for ashes to be created from the palms that were distributed the previous year on Palm Sunday

After the Second Vatican Council, Lent became a time to focus on our baptismal commitment. At that time the catechumenate was restored, and RCIA programs appeared in all parishes. Catholics have come to recognize Lent as a season of renewal of baptismal promises. The words spoken on Ash Wednesday during the imposition of ashes, “Turn away from sin and be faithful to the gospel,” reminds us of our baptismal promises to reject sin and profess our faith.

On Ash Wednesday we are called to the conversion journey that marks the season. At the end of the conversion journey we will be prepared to renew our baptismal promises on Easter.

Let us make a commitment this year to make a good Lent.

SIXTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

As members of the community of believers, we know that we do not make our journey to God on our own. We do so precisely as people who are part of the community. We encounter God’s presence within this community in and through the human condition of incompleteness, our own and of others.

We hear a challenge in today’s scriptures, a challenge from two differing perspectives: a challenge of wholeness through obedience to the regulations for cleanliness and a challenge to wholeness through confrontation of the status quo. How difficult it must have been for the lepers of biblical times to have any sense of dignity. To be excluded from the community, when belonging was of the essence of their identity, must have been excruciatingly painful! Perhaps it was not the disease that caused the greater pain, but rather the alienation from the community. For lepers were, after all, regarded as spiritually, as well as physically, unclean.

Who among us has not known the anguish of alienation? Are there not some you have regarded as unclean, just not good enough? Are there not some who have felt alienated from the community’s worship because they are considered unclean? Who among us has not tsk-tsked at the way some others present themselves? And what about our own self-acceptance? What part(s) of ourselves have we shunned or rejected?

Jesus was driven by infinite mercy! He still is. Scripture scholars tell us that the word translated as “pity” in the gospel was an expression of much stronger emotion in its original Greek. The word suggests that his insides churn, that he is moved in the depths of his being. Could it be that Jesus was fed up with the inconsistencies of the interpretations of the law and the way they were lived out? Jesus broke down barriers. He stepped across boundaries. Care and compassion animated, even transformed, his reading of religious and cultural values. He was the message of God’s extraordinary love!

Our society still continues to exclude all sorts of people. All we need do is read the newspapers or look at TV and our own reactions to others. How far have we yet to go in our own acceptance of all God’s people? Our call is to challenge the evils of our culture, those attitudes of alienation within our won hearts and those around us, sexism, racism, homophobia, classism. This week’s gospel challenges us to allow ourselves to be moved in the depths of our being with mercy. Dare we?!

 

THIRD SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

The setting of today's gospel is immediately after Jesus' baptism in the Jordan, when he received the endorsement of his Father and was filled with the Spirit of God.

So now Jesus, in Galilee, begins his public life and mission. He begins to proclaim the Good News, the Gospel. It is summed up very simply in two lines: "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe in the good news." In fact, the whole of the Gospel message is contained in those two sentences. It contains both the purpose of Jesus' coming and how we are to respond.
The expected time has come i.e. the arrival of the Messiah, the Savior King. And so the kingdom of God is close at hand, the kingship, the reign of God. This 'kingdom' is not a place but rather a web of relationships. All those belonging to the kingdom are those who accept the life vision that Jesus gave to us and whose lives are based on that vision of life. It does not matter who they are or where they are and it exists here and now.
How are we to enter that kingdom? "Repent and believe in the Good News." In the First Reading we see Jonah, the reluctant prophet, preaching repentance to the great city of Nineveh.

'Repent' here is more than just being sorry for the past; it involves a radical conversion, a change of direction and priorities in my life. It is a turning from but much more a turning to. This consists in believing IN the Good News. It is not just to accept as true what Jesus or the Church teaches. To believe IN involves a total commitment, a throwing in of one's lot with Jesus without any guarantees or preconditions. It is to invest one's whole self (as people do in a good marriage, for better or for worse, in good times and in bad...).

The second part of today's Gospel shows the first responses to this call. Four fishermen are called: "Follow me and I will make you fishers of people." At once, we are told, Peter and Andrew left their nets (the means of their livelihood) and followed after Jesus. At once, leaving their father Zebedee and his hired men, James and John also went after him.
It was a complete act of trust and a total surrender of themselves. To what? Actually, they had no idea where they were going. They had no idea of what the future held. This was the extent of their great trust in this man who came out of the blue into their lives and challenged them to leave behind their security and throw in their lot with him. They would, in fact, go through many unexpected experiences, some of them joyful, some of them full of pain.
They would indeed become "fishers of people" , continuing a great movement begun by their Master Jesus to bring people to a new way of living in truth, love, freedom and justice. But they never regretted that day they walked away from their security. They found experiences that transcended all their dreams.

The call is still going out to each one of us. Am I ready to answer? To follow? What are my entangling nets, limiting my freedom to follow? What personal relationships are blocking my way? What anxieties? What self-centered ambitions?
Paul in today's Second Reading tells the Corinthians to live in total freedom and detachment. Nothing we have, whether things or personal attachments, are permanent and can disappear at a moment's notice. Whether life is very good or very bad: nothing lasts except the fundamental values of truth and love, of freedom and justice. It is what we are, not what we have that counts.
So ask today to hear the call. Ask to have the freedom to follow the call and to be ready to go wherever Jesus is asking us to go.

Frank Doyle, SJ

Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Who Sits at Our Tables?

Imagine you've received an invitation to one or both of the banquets described in the reading from the prophet Isaiah or from the Gospel of Matthew. Perhaps the feast of “rich food and choice wines, juicy, rich food and pure, choice wines” that Isaiah describes would be more to your liking than being a guest at a wedding feast where some are shown to the door.

The banquet described in the Gospel has a background that the community for whom Matthew's gospel was written would have understood more readily than we do. Just as in our culture, the wedding invitations in the parable would have been sent far in advance. Refusing to attend would have meant an insult to the host. Matthew's largely Jewish community would have immediately realized that Gentiles, the outsiders, and the sinners would replace them as guests at the banquet of the Church and Eucharist if they were not open to God's word and invitation to set our tables for all, not just those with whom we are comfortable.

Even though we know that all are welcome in this place of the church, it is sometimes hard to stretch ourselves out of complacency and reach out to others. The ideal banquet that the prophet Isaiah portrays is the one that God “will provide for all peoples,” but the guests need to be willing to mix and mingle with all. Parables jolt us into a new way of thinking and of assessing the familiar. Today's Gospel invites us to consider how to extend our invitation to the feast of the Eucharist and the richness of our Catholic heritage to people who are unexpected guests. Who indeed does sit at our tables?

Ponder:

What challenges our parish to move beyond the expected and the comfortable?

What invites me in today's readings to welcome the stranger and the person who can surprise me?

Regina Siegfried, ASC

FEAST OF ST. VINCENT DE PAUL

September, 2008

Financial turmoil; widespread hunger and disease; ethnic and civil wars; natural disasters; political intrigue; inadequate education; healthcare disparities; fear of feeling abandoned by God. While these could be the headlines of Sept. 27, 2008, in reality, they were the same issues facing a humble French peasant in 17 ^th century France. He took the mission of Jesus Christ to heart, transforming service into charity while galvanizing others to be a part of his dream. His “family members” literally encircle the globe today, providing a worldwide web of charity. His name is Vincent DePaul and as members of a Vincentian parish, we are the descendants of his legacy. As we celebrate the 348 ^th anniversary of the death of St. Vincent, what can we learn from his experience and wisdom?

Vincent possessed an unwavering confidence in God’s providential care for the world. This is “the good which God desires” for each person. He faced some of the same challenges we face today, but he doggedly trusted that providing spiritual and physical assistance for the most abandoned people of his day would ultimately be transformative. He looked at the events of each day, and trusted that God was somehow being revealed; then, after reflecting on his experience, he acted with determination, enlisting the collaborative efforts of many people to effect change. Do you believe that in the midst of the suffering and distress of our world, God is still actively transforming the world and each of us into Christ? How are you a part of this transformation?

“Empty yourself in order to put on Jesus Christ. When our Lord imprints his mark on us and gives us his Spirit and grace, we, being united to Him as the branches are united to the vine, will do what He did when He was on earth.” (Letter to A. Durand, 1656)

In this letter to one of his priests, Vincent simply puts forward what being Vincentian means: to proclaim good news to people who so desperately need to hear it because that was the mission of Jesus. In that process, mysteriously, we who offer service are transformed into Christ. It takes profound humility to put aside one’s ego in order to make room for Christ to be implanted in our hearts, minds and souls. What are you doing to further this openness in your life?

Finally, Vincent remarked that “We must sanctify our works by seeking God in them and by doing them in order to find God in them rather than just to get them done.” It is not enough in a Vincentian parish to be efficient about completing tasks. At the heart of the mission of Jesus, and our mission, is to be people of both prayer and service. Prayer is empty without service, but service without prayer may simply become an ego trip. How are you finding God in your works of service at our parish?

As we celebrate this feast of St. Vincent DePaul, may we trust in the providence of God, open ourselves to Jesus Christ, and pray for the transforming grace of the Holy Spirit!

TWENTY-FIFTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

God’s Abundance is More Than Enough for All

“That’s not fair!” might be a clamor about today’s reading from the Gospel of Matthew. Why do the workers who show up at the last minute get the same wages as those who arrived early in the morning and put in a hard day’s work? But listen to the opening sentence from the reading: “Jesus told his disciples this parable. ” Parables are stories that are more than stories; their many layers always leave us thinking. Their meaning, not to be taken literally, lies beyond the obvious. And it’s obvious that it’s not fair that the latecomers received the same pay as the early birds. But this parable isn’t about the obvious.

. It’s not about the workers, neither the happy nor the disgruntled. It’s about God’s abundant grace, generosity, and goodness. The landowner, who is a metaphor for God, is the focus of the parable. He (or she) is the one who lavishes grace and abundance. Are we envious because God is generous to people from whom we might withhold our own openhandedness?

Listen to the first reading from the prophet Isaiah: “Seek the Lord while he may be found. . . . My thoughts are not your thoughts.” God can be found in God’s own vineyard, but God’s method of running the vineyard might surprise us. We show up in the vineyard of our society, our church, and our parish; we can expect to contribute our services and expertise for the needs of all there working with us. If you read the parish report that was distributed in late August, you know that we have many plants in our vineyard that need tending. Many workers are needed at any time of the day. God’s abundance is more than enough for all the laborers.

Ponder:

· Where do I find God’s abundance in the vineyard of my life and the life of the parish?

How do we “seek the Lord where he may be found”?

Do:

· Decide how to contribute abilities, resources, and gifts to the vineyard of St. Catherine’s.

Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross
September 14, 2008

Suffering and Salvation

Isn’t it amazing that we base our religion on an instrument of execution intended to bring the cruelest suffering and most humiliating death to the lowest of human beings, the dregs of society. We take images of that horrible instrument and we hang them as decorations in our houses, we make jewelry in its image, and we trace its image over our bodies whenever we pray.

We are a religion of the cross and of all that it stood for. We do not run away from suffering and death, but rather we transform them into salvation and resurrection. We do not run away from humiliation, but rather we joyfully accept humiliation for the sake of the glory of God. We do not run away from the lowest of human beings, but rather we embrace them as other Christs.

When I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all men to myself, says the Lord . The powers of this world are nothing compared to the power of the cross of Christ.

“Christ in His boundless love freely underwent His passion and death because of the sins of all men, so that all might attain salvation. It is, therefore, the duty of the Church’s preaching to proclaim the cross of Christ as the sign of God’s all-embracing love and as the fountain from which every grace flows.” Vatican 2

Gerald Darring

Center for Liturgy

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

It’s OK not to talk about it

For many people it helps to talk about how they feel when something traumatic happens to them or they have suffered a loss. But not everyone. A university study not long ago found that people who did not talk about their inner pain “can cope quite successfully,” said researcher Mark Seery, “and, according to our results, are likely to be better off than someone who does want to express his or her own feelings.” So express yourself—or not—in a way that is healthy for you and, in the spirit of Christian love, respect the ways others choose to express themselves.

Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time

August 31, 2008

Jesus tells us that he must “suffer greatly”…”be killed”…”and on the third day be raised”. After rebuking Peter’s objection, Jesus adds, “Whoever wished to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wished to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”

These are hard words for us to digest. With Peter, we too, recoil. What does Jesus mean, “Take up your cross and follow me”? In Jesus’ day the worst sentence a criminal could expect was crucifixion. While the early Christians anticipated the worst, and often did die for their loyalty to Jesus, we don’t ordinarily anticipate that fate today. But the sacrifice of self in fidelity to God stands at the heart of being a Christian. Emptying ourselves for something larger than ourselves is the path to personal and Christian maturity.

And yet, we live in a era where one is not supposed to suffer in any way. Medicine, doctors, psychiatrists, magic diets and so many other quickie technologies are constantly being proposed to us as the way to relieve or avoid every kind of suffering, inconvenience, worry, or pain. At a deeper level, so much of the culture today tells us that the ego, self-interest, the individual is the measure of all. But the attentive, reflective, prayerful heart knows better.

Suffering comes to us in one way or another whether one wants it or not. It need not be sought out. Suffering teaches us our limits. It opens us to our createdness. In owning our creatureliness, we discover our ground in God. In union with Jesus we learn that in actively sacrificing ourselves, giving ourselves for others, we find our deepest meaning, our true joy.

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Full circle

When it comes to learning, there is a definite circular pattern to our lives. During the earliest years of childhood, almost everything we know comes from our lived experience. As we grow older and learn to read and think in abstractions, we obtain more and more of our knowledge from books and other “experts”—and as a result, we trust ourselves less and less. Eventually in our later years we realize that our truth has been within all along and we begin trusting our own experience again. Perhaps this pattern is what the artist Pablo Picasso was thinking about when he said, “It takes a long time to become young.” Where are you on the circle?

Today’s readings: Zechariah 9:9-10; Romans 8:9, 11-13;

Matthew 11:25-30

“You have hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and have revealed them to infants.”

 

Sunday, June 29, 2008

Solemnity of Peter and Paul, apostles

Passion in action

Today we remember and celebrate the lives of two very different men who nevertheless had one important characteristic in common: passion. Their passionate love for Jesus found divergent outlets and took different forms, but this quality above all is what makes their words and deeds so compelling, even 2,000 years later. To be passionate about an idea, a cause, our faith is a great gift. But passion requires action. Today is a good day to pause and consider what our passions are. Then ask, “Does my life reflect my passions?”

Today’s readings: Acts 12:1-11; 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 17-18; Matthew 16:13-19

“Who do you say that I am?”

 

TWELFTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

Not Going Anywhere

Jesus is encouraging to us in Sunday’s Gospel. “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.”
God loves us each in the tiniest detail! God being is infinite, so he has time and space for all persons on earth and above and under the earth. There is a corollary about our ability to receive the love of God.

Each human being is created to be a dwelling place for God and his love.
We can never be truly human unless the greatest value in each of our lives is to receive the love of God and give it to the people around us.
I realize that our culture would never buy such a proposition. On television we see people seeking ease, beauty, convenience, pleasure and so on. Quite often on cable channels and now on broadcast channels, one could conclude that the human person is made for one purpose only: sex.

Someone has said that commercials, without realizing it, are built to encourage the seven Capital Sins (pride, gluttony, avarice, lust, sloth, envy and anger). Jot down that list, put it by your television and put a check mark behind each one when it is promoted.
Alright, we human beings get attached to or fascinated by many things. But if each of us is created to be a place where God and his love can dwell, then any other fascination we have should be left aside if it begins to take over God’s place.
So if I am attached to wealth, or my stamp collection, or my good looks, or drugs, or even my mate—in a way that makes God’s love take second (or third or fiftieth) place—then my life is disordered and I am headed for a fall.

How do you react to this corollary? “You mean I am to love God only and not care about my friends, my family, music, sports, food, health, etc.? Not care about anything except God?”
Not at all. Healthy love of all these things has its roots in love of God. All things get their own individual value from God’s indwelling. Each person, each blade of grass receives its full value of love because it proceeds from God’s gentle hand.
Whoever takes this proposition seriously will live a full human life.
But I can hear the reader saying right now that it is too difficult. So many things get in the way. Have a look through your life and see how often you forget God, who is your source. Peter remembered that he had actually deserted Jesus at least three times and he said “Leave me, Lord, I am a sinful man.” How many times have you and I been the same way?
So, does the proposition really apply just to those who never sin?
Not at all. “If you sin, I will not leave you, I will love you,” God has said throughout the ages. The cross of Jesus is the ultimate statement of that truth. God’s love remains constant and dear, in spite of the rampant sin in all of us and each of us. His love will make us get closer to the goal.
Rejoice. No matter how many hairs you have on your head, God’s love does not go away.

Receive it.

Tenth Sunday in Ordinary Time    June 8, 2008

 

COUNTING FOR SOMETHING

This Sunday we hear that Jesus spent a lot of time with sinners and outcasts. Of course, the culture of his time and place forbade eating with such people, but he did it anyway. He even accepted Matthew as an apostle—a member of the hated group called tax collectors.
In Sunday’s Gospel the Pharisees summed all this up in a question. "Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?" Jesus overheard the question and gave this response: “I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.”

It is an enigmatic answer, but it tells us a lot about Our Lord and his mission. For one thing, he does not need to go after those who have heard the call. They are already in process. So his heart goes out to the ones who have strayed, who have not answered his call or even heard it. A simple way to put it is that he loves sinners and he loves the shamed. You and I do not need to be afraid if we find guilt in ourselves.
Another thought: What if Jesus had added to his statement something like this: “Those who have experienced poverty and sin are more able to open their ears and listen to the Word. You rich, well placed people have a much tougher time of it.” In fact he did say it in another place.
How could this be? Well-placed people have ears like the rest of us. If the sound enters their heads, what could be the problem?
But there is a difference between listening and paying attention while listening.
Paying attention means allowing the real meaning of someone’s words sink down into yourself, light up some lights in you, and then to respond appropriately. There is not always time to do this, of course, but if the one speaking and calling is Jesus, maybe you need to take some time and attend to what he says.
Did you ever go through a reception line where the celebrity or politician greeted you but had his or her head turned away, looking to the next person while seeming to listen to you? Did it seem like you really counted for something?
But you do count for something, even if fear and doubt fill you. Whatever it is that you do in order to mask your fear probably stops you from really hearing. Maybe you need to be impoverished!
Don’t get me wrong. Impoverished people are not guaranteed fault-free, far from it. But maybe their sorrows are digging out souls in them that respond tenderly to words of care. Or to laughter. Or tears. Or God’s love.
Remember Mary of Bethany? She sat at Jesus’ feet listening with fascination while Martha worked and worked on the dinner. Which one was distracted? According to Jesus, Mary had chosen “the one thing necessary,” she kept Jesus in mind, “and it would not be taken away from her.”
Alright, what about you and me? Are we getting by without paying attention? Are we in one of our usual ruts regarding our family or ourfellow workers or friends—or Jesus? Ask whether you have chosen the one thing necessary, the only thing that will not be taken away from you.

Ask yourself whether Jesus would dine with you.



NINTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME June 1, 2008

Jesus was skeptical about good deeds at the end of his famous “Sermon on the Mount” (this Sunday’s Gospel). He says,

Many will say to me on that day,
Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name?
Did we not drive out demons in your name?
Did we not do mighty deeds in your name?

They were bragging. Jesus replies,

I will declare to them solemnly,
I never knew you. Depart from me, you evildoers.

These words are strong. The people had done sensational deeds. But maybe for selfish reasons.

Jesus tells about two houses built on different kinds of land. You know the story. The smart builder puts his on solid ground. The less experienced one (Jesus uses the word “fool”) chooses sand. Large rains fall, floods sweep through, and winds blow and batter both houses. As you know, the first stayed safe, the other washed down the valley in little pieces.

His message? Take care to build the foundations of your life on solid ground, that is, on doing the will of Jesus’ Father in heaven. The lady in Ireland had obviously borne his words out. Her life was strong enough to stand up to the possible loss of a mere car.

Jesus is arguing here for the entire, strong Sermon On The Mount, not just on what we hear this Sunday. From it came the Beatitudes, the new law of Christ, the Lord’s prayer, instructions on praying, attitudes about money, and the warnings we have just seen about hypocrisy.

Why don’t you take a few minutes and read this entire sermon? It is in the 5th, 6th, and 7th chapters of Matthew. Where are you building your house?

THE SOLEMNITY OF THE MOST HOLY TRINITY May 18, 2008

Bird, Butterfly, Breeze

(By Regina Siegfried, ASC)

How do we name the Unnameable; what do we call Mystery? These questions are behind much of the story of the book of Exodus. The account for today's reading is several chapters later than Moses' encounter recounted in Exodus, chapter 3 where God says, “I am who am.” The Lord, the name given in today's reading, is an English translation for the Hebrew Yahweh. Since some Jewish people consider the name for the Unnameable too holy to pronounce, Adonai is a frequent substitution.

In the reading from Paul's second letter to the Corinthians, the familiar Trinitarian formula concludes the section: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.” We hear that during the liturgy as we try to call Mystery into our presence and place ourselves in the presence of a God who is beyond anything we can imagine. Names establish relationships. That's what we do as we stumble to name a God who loves us into being and keeps us in God's tender care.

The feast of the Trinity, a day that celebrates a mystery beyond comprehension, is a Sunday about God's relationship with God's own self and with us. Any of the PSR kids could probably tell us that there are three persons in one God. We might not understand that any better than they do. Comprehending mystery is an exercise in futility; relationship with God is the foundation of our life in Christ. We believe in a God who is Creator, Redeemer and Spirit and whose very life as three-in-one impels us to reflect on our relationship in a community of believers.

The American poet Emily Dickinson playfully and profoundly ends her poem # 18 with an image of the Trinity:

In the name of the Bee--

And of the Butterfly--

And of the Breeze—Amen!

God the creator, Jesus the Risen One, and the Spirit as elusive and as powerful as wind (recall Pentecost's mighty wind) is the God we traditionally call Father, Son, and Spirit. It can help to imagine creative ways to name the Unnameable and address infinite Mystery.

 

Pentecost May 11, 2008

THE GIFT OF SHARING

There is too much to talk about on Pentecost weekend . Just look at all that is happening on this feast of the Holy Spirit. The end of our extended Easter celebration—had you remembered that Easter season has lasted for all these weeks? And the fulfillment of Jesus’ promise to send the Holy Spirit (the Paraclete, the Comforter).

And then the startling results that this Paraclete brings about. Apostles began speaking in tongues! Jews from all different lands and languages had gathered and each understood the disciples’ words without any translation (Acts 2:1-11)! The Holy Spirit means to bring us together, to allay differences, to hear the other person, not just react.
Still more, the Vigil of Pentecost on Saturday night includes the profound story of the Tower of Babel. The Church put it in this place because the Holy Spirit is able to reverse the babbling of humankind. Of course, babbling is a word derived from the name “Babel” meaning “confusion of voices.”
Another striking topic is this one: the Gospel we will hear has an entirely different version of how the Holy Spirit was sent into the disciples. Instead of Luke’s “noise like a strong driving wind,” and “tongues of flame,” John’s Gospel has a quiet story. The risen Jesus appears in their midst and says “Peace be with you.” Then he continues, very simply, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” Peace and understanding result. Peace like you and I would love to have.
We spend today's reflection figuring out some way to reconcile these strikingly different stories of the same event. Which is true? How can both be accurate? In short, for me it is an example of the different ways that individuals remember any great and deeply felt event—something like the way Rashômon, that great 1950s movie, narrated the same event in very different ways according to how various characters experienced it. Each remembered according to the emotion and the perspective they had.
But how are we to deal with the great diversity? The end of Easter season, reversal of the babbling, fulfillment of Jesus’ promise of the Paraclete, driving winds, flames hanging over heads, peace, and above all, the act of sending of the Holy Spirit and very different versions of the story. How are we to bring all this together?
Let us take a shortcut. What are the most important things to understand about Pentecost? First, it is the feast of the third person of the Blessed Trinity.

Second, it is based on three central facts:

• The Father is so much within Jesus that if you know Jesus you know the Father.

• If you let him, Jesus will be within you just like the Father is in him.

• This will happen by the sending of the Holy Spirit, who is the “insides” of Jesus and of the Father. The Spirit is the love they have for each other, the closeness, the great sharing.

Thus, Pentecost is not just another Sunday. It is a feast equal to Christmas and Easter themselves. It is the incarnation of the Holy Spirit into the world of men and women.

Open. Give welcome. God is placing the love that is himself deep in our own spirits.

FEEL SHEEPISH?

Jesus talks about sheep and shepherds in the Gospel. What are some facts about these wool-bearing creatures we call sheep?
Start with a comparison. Maybe you and I remember our childhood when we turned various insects on their back and watched them struggle and never achieve their proper leg-side down position unless we had mercy on them. Shepherds tell us that an unsheared sheep is the same way: completely stranded if it gets turned on its back. The shepherd carries a crook so he can turn them right-side up when they need it. That is why they follow him. He is kind and careful with his flock.
History tells us that the many shepherds all brought their small herds down to Jerusalem, and these various flocks were kept together in one big sheepfold. How, you might ask, does each shepherd retrieve the sheep that belong to him or to his boss, since there were no brands, no markings of any kind, just a fuzzy mob.
The first way is that the shepherd can call each of his sheep by name. He has been with them on the hillsides and they are no strangers to him. The one with the nick in its ear, the one with the pretty face, the one that limps. He has a name for each because they each have a personality that is special, just like human beings. When they hear their names they come and follow.
And second, the sheep recognize not only the name but the actual voice of the shepherd. It is a much loved sound to them. It belongs to the one who flipped them back on their feet, the one who shielded them from wolves, the one who led them to fresh pastures instead of the ones they had eaten down to nubs. A stranger’s voice could not have the gentle consonance of their master and friend. Of course his sheep flocked to him.
Why does Jesus use this imagery on the upcoming Fourth Sunday of Easter? I suppose you have answered the question already, but, if you will pardon the comparison, you and I are a lot like sheep. The shepherd calls them by name and the utter God of the universe (galaxy, infinity, etc.) calls each of us by name. In Jesus God knows each and every one of us better than we know ourselves. The name he confirms for each of us finds its way down to the deepest potential of our souls. By it he calls us to be most truly who we are in ourself and in God.
Like sheep, each of us knows by heart the sound of God’s voice. Alright, we may misunderstand it, ignore it, resist it, slam our ears shut to it, but in our moments of sane and solitary wholeness—or in our times of trouble—our spirits pulse to the rhythm of that voice. It resounds within us.
Like the call of the shepherd, this call is safe, in spite of wolves and wildness all around. The call lets our fear drop away, turns us right side up so that we can follow our master and friend over rocks and even through dark valleys.
Sometimes the phrase, “people are sheep,” is deemed an insult. This Sunday it is the greatest compliment we could get.

John Foley, SJ

THE ENCOUNTER

The two disciples are leaving Jerusalem. They had been caught up in the experience of following Jesus, and they were devastated by his crucifixion.
Moreover, they were undoubtedly frightened by the prospect of what might happen to them as followers of the executed master.
On their way from Jerusalem to Emmaus, they have an unusual encounter.
The man they find themselves walking with seems to understand much about the scriptures, but they aren’t able to make the connection between what he says and who he is.
It is only in welcoming him into their house and sharing a meal with him that they realize who it is they are facing: it is Jesus, the risen Lord. So moved are they by the encounter that they turn around and head back to Jerusalem, to join up with the other disciples but also to face risk and uncertainty.
They may very well have headed straight into martyrdom.
The Easter event can also turn around our lives. It can cause us to rise and come forth into the light of day, but we must be prepared for the risk and uncertainty such a conversion would entail.

“For the Church, evangelizing means bringing the good news into all the strata of humanity, and through its influence transforming humanity from within and making it new....
The purpose of evangelization is (an) interior change, and if it has to be expressed in one sentence the best way to stating it would be to say that the Church evangelizes when she seeks to convert, solely through the divine power of the message she proclaims, both the personal and collective consciences of people, the activities in which they engage, and the lives and concrete milieux which are theirs.”

Pope Paul VI, Evangelii Nuntiandi (1975) 18

Gerald Darring

Sunday, March 30, 2008

Second Sunday of Easter; Divine Mercy Sunday

Whose sins you forgive

In the Genesis story it says that God breathed upon the darkness of chaos to begin the work of creation. In today’s gospel story, the risen Savior breathes upon the church to carry on the work of the new creation, a spiritual kingdom freed from the corruption of sin and death. So, with every breath we take, forgiveness is ours and we in turn exhale God’s mercy into the world around us. What a gift! But with the gift comes the responsibility to forgive as we have been forgiven. Just think of all the people in your life who need to be forgiven. And you have the power to do it.

Easter Sunday March 23, 2008

This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad. Easter is the great celebration of victory of life over death.
Ours is an Easter religion. We do not deny or turn away from the evils that surround us: the wars that have killed some 100 million people in our (last) century; the poverty that grips more than half of the human race; the hunger that kills millions every year and ruins the lives of millions more; the discrimination that divides the human family into contending parties.

We do not deny these miseries, but we refuse to surrender to their power because of our faith in the resurrection of Jesus Christ.
Suffering will be vindicated; death will be overcome; a new life will arise: that is the Easter message of the paschal mystery.

Let us feast with joy in the Lord. Just as Christ passed through death to resurrection, so too will the world pass through its suffering to the glory of a new life.
There is no room for despair: our Easter faith tells us that God will raise us up and renew our lives.

“This is the ‘day which the Lord has made.’ Alleluia! Take fresh hope, brothers and sisters of the whole world! With Christ our Passover everything is possible! Christ goes forward in our future!” Pope John Paul II, Easter Message (1991) 8

Gerald Darring

FEAST OF THE BAPTISM OF THE LORD

TODAY BRINGS TO AN END our Christmas celebrations. And we see the third and last of the three great manifestations by which were made known to us that our God had come among us in a very special way.

Three manifestations
The first of these manifestations was through the story of the birth of Jesus in the stable at Bethlehem. The first people privileged to experience this manifestation were the shepherds, representing the poor, the sinful, and the social outcasts on whom Luke's Gospel is especially focused.
The second manifestation, the Epiphany, celebrated last Sunday, reflects Matthew's emphasis that Jesus was born not only for his own people but for people of every country and every race everywhere.
The third and final manifestation of God's presence among us through Jesus is found in all the four gospels. While the first two manifestations are linked with the birth of Jesus, this one comes at a much later date, at the moment when Jesus is about to begin his public life.

Why baptize Jesus?
We might very well wonder, along with John the Baptist, why Jesus needed to be baptized. "It is I who need baptism from you," John said to Jesus, "and yet you come to me!" All those others being baptized in the Jordan by John were doing so as a sign of repentance for their sins and as an expression of their desire to turn around their lives. How could Jesus, the Son of God, be part of this?

Total solidarity
The first answer to this is that Jesus in so doing was expressing his total solidarity with the human race, of which he was a member. He identified with them, not as a sinner but as a fellow human being. The expression of that solidarity is a much higher priority for him than any social status he might lose by being seen in the close company of confessed sinners. It was a risk he would constantly take because the needs of the sinner were more important to him than his reputation with the self-righteous. It will have its final dramatic expression as Jesus dies on a cross, executed with and like two convicted criminals. For Jesus, there was never such a thing as 'face', being valued purely on external appearance.

A "missioning" experience
However, in order to understand what is happening at the River Jordan, we have to go far beyond seeing Jesus' baptism as a matter of dealing with sinfulness.
What is being really emphasized here is the positive element of Jesus being totally accepted and confirmed by his Father. What is happening here is that Jesus, as he stands there in the River Jordan, is being 'missioned' by his Father for the work he is just about to begin. He is here getting the total endorsement of his Father for that work.

Filled with the fullness of God
As he steps out of the water, the heavens open and the Spirit of God comes down on Jesus to fill him with all God's fullness. "This is my Son, the Beloved [agapetos, the object of God's agape, his outpouring love]; in him I am deeply pleased."
This, we might say, is Jesus' Pentecost experience. It is really what the baptism in the Jordan is about. And it is only something which those with eyes of faith can see. We might also add that it is what our Baptism is really about.

Our own baptism
As a final reflection it would be useful for us today to reflect on the meaning of our own baptism and how it relates with that of Jesus.
We often hear a very simplistic description of the effects of the Sacrament of Baptism as "taking away original sin and making us children of God". Many, especially those baptized as infants, may tend to see it as a one-off ceremony imposed on them by parents which binds them to a way of life in which they have no further say.

Meaningful baptism
People have even been heard to say, "Oh! I wish I hadn't been born a Catholic!" There is absolutely no reason why people, after honest reflection, cannot not renounce their Catholic faith in favor of a way of life which gave more meaning to them. However, if we truly understand the full meaning of our Baptism this is not likely to happen.
Baptism is not, as is true of all the sacraments, an isolated ritual. It takes place in the context of our whole life. Whether we are baptized as children or as adults, what primarily is happening is that we become incorporated, em-bodied, into the Christian community.

Active members
We become - not passively, but actively - member of the Body of Christ. It can never be something imposed on us against our will. That is why, for adults, there is now a long process of initiation leading up to Baptism and, hopefully a further process of community support after the Baptism has taken place.
It is why adult Baptism is now celebrated in the presence of the whole parish community and at the Easter Vigil. 'Original sin' is taken away not so much by some spiritual sleight of hand or by the mumbling of some magic formula. Rather, if one becomes truly incorporated into a living Christian community, the sinful influences that pervade our world become reversed by our exposure to the vision of Jesus and the lived experience of a community based on love, justice and sharing.

A social event
Baptist does not and cannot produce its effects in a social vacuum. That is why the Church will not baptize those who have no likelihood of experiencing Christian community.
Then, of course, like Jesus, our baptism brings with it a serious obligation to share our faith with others both by word and example. It involves much more than simply 'saving our souls' and 'leading sinless lives'.

Living witnesses
We are called to be living witnesses of the Gospel, to be the salt of the earth, to be a city on a hill, a candle radiating light in the surrounding darkness. We are called, in short, to be united with the others in our Christian community in the building up of God's Kingdom. (One wonders how often this is the reality when one sees so many Catholics acting like total strangers to each other at a Sunday parish Eucharist!)
All those words of Isaiah, quoted above and applied to Jesus, are to be applied to each one of us as well. Our baptism is not simply some past event recorded in some dusty parish register; it is a living reality which is to be constantly deepened and enriched.
Let God our Father be able to say of us as he said of Jesus: "This is my Beloved; in this one I am very well pleased."

 

An Inner Assurance

"By Your Perseverance You Will Secure Your Lives"

(By Regina Siegfried, ASC)

For those given to a literal interpretation of Scripture, the Gospel reading for today can send them scurrying for safety. Perhaps they need to halt their rush for the exits to consider the present world situation instead of being consumed with fear about the end of the world. The wars, natural disasters, persecution of the innocent, and other dire scenarios in the Gospel account are happening right now. Consider Iraq, Israel, Palestine, forgotten African countries like Liberia and Darfur in Sudan. Contemplate the domestic calamities in our own city, walking past our doors, and perhaps even living within our homes. The world doesn't end; life works its way through what looks like the end as we know it. How does the gritty human spirit soar through and above the hard times when the literal end of the world might seem a relief?

The short passage from the first reading, a section from the prophet Malachi, paints an image of fire racing through the hollow stumps of stubble, consuming all in its path. Malachi, like Jesus, holds hope in the midst of suffering: "But for you who fear my name there will arise the sun of justice with its healing rays." Jesus promises safety in the midst of danger: "But not a hair of your head will be destroyed. By your perseverance you will secure your lives." We need to learn to look in unexpected places for these assurances of better days to come. Jesus typically sets up a scene and turns it upside down for its message of hope and new life. Strong faith in his message about the household of God and perseverance despite of and even because of life's hardships are some of the keys to securing our lives beyond the present.

Somber thoughts for a subdued season. But the liturgical cycle draws to another close. Its end-of-this-cycle readings encourage us to deeper faith, hope, and love for all creation.

Ponder:

• How do I deal with life's situations?

DO:

• Console the sorrowing.
• Bring in items for the Vincent Giving Tree.

The End is Near

(By Regina Siegfried, ASC)

The Church year, with the readings from Cycle C, draws to a close. The three readings for today remind us that the end is near. The rather gruesome and ghastly scene from the Book of Maccabees where seven brothers and their mother are martyred for their Jewish faith is about more than murder. These men and their mother proclaim that, although their end is near, "the King of the world will raise us up to live again forever." This clear statement about another life after this life is sharply contradicted in the opening passage from the Gospel: "Some Sadducees, those who deny that there is a resurrection," came forward to question Jesus. The seven brothers of the first reading are paralleled with the seven brothers in the Gospel. The similarity stops at the number, for the brothers in the Gospel story are a fabrication of the devious Sadducees.

The Sadducces seemingly can't move beyond the literal. Jesus, knowing that their contrived story was merely to trick him, reminds them that God is "not God of the dead, but of the living, for to him all are alive." Until the end is really here, we live in the light of the goodness and grace of God. Beyond that, we will know God in the fullness of the grace and goodness of God's own person.

As we watched the passing of the bright fall colors and as we the go through the closing of the Church year, we also remember our loved ones who now experience life beyond this one. When we've celebrated the feast of All Saints and All Souls, we know that the spiral of the liturgical year circles us another level deeper into our faith journey. The living and the dead are part of the Body of Christ. What binds us together is more than this life. When we keep the memories of our loved ones alive, they live on in us and in the Body of Christ which transcends endings and which spirals all of us into new beginnings.

Ponder:

• How do I want to celebrate this last month of the Church year?
• Whom do I hold dear in my heart and memories?
• Whom does our parish family cherish in our collective memory?

DO

• Sign the book of the dead. Remember them.
• Love the living.

"The Whole Universe is a Drop of Dew"

(By Regina Siegfried, ASC)

Vibrant but now fading fall colors, diamond stars in our galaxy, a rich and fruitful harvest are snippits of the universe in the drop of dew that the first reading from the book of Wisdom lyrically describes. God "loves all things that are" and loathes nothing God has made. The writer of the Book of Wisdom quickly moves beyond nature where God's "imperishable spirit is in all things" and into the human realm where the writer instructs us that God reminds us of our weakness only to forgive us. The generosity and love of God is more prodigal than the splendor of the "season of mists and mellow fruitfulness" that the poet John Keats rhapsodized in his ode "To Autumn."

The God who declares all creation "good," is the God of the Jesus who made that lesson clear to Zacchaeus in today's reading from the Gospel of Luke. Zacchaeus had two strikes against him. First, he was short in a crowd of tall people. Secondly, and more importantly, he was a hated tax collector. Tax collectors worked for the Roman government to gather oppressive taxes from the Jewish people. Although he was perceived as a traitor to his own people, Zacchaeus, nevertheless, still sought "to see who Jesus was." Whether this was from mere curiosity or the genuine interest, Zacchaeus probably nearly fell out of the tree when Jesus invited himself to his house. He gathered his dignity, scrambled down, and defended himself in the face of the grumbling crowd who murmured that Jesus intended to dine with a tax-collecting sinner like Zacchaeus. Jesus saw beyond the curiosity and into the heart of faith that Zaccheus had. Jesus put the Jewish crowd in their place when he said to Zacchaeus that "the Son of Man has come to seek and to save what was lost." Zacchaeus is as much a part of the "universe in a drop of dew" as anyone in the crowd. The righteous can continue to grouse; Jesus seeks those who are willing to believe.

All creation is good; all are welcome at the table of the Lord. The tax collector becomes symbol for all repentant sinners who rejoice in the company of the Body of Christ.

Ponder :

• Think about the "universe in a drop of dew."
• Think about the Zacchaeus in you, in our parish.

DO:

• Enjoy the fading colors of fall.
• Remember the deceased and sign the book of the dead.
• Donate to the Thanksgiving food collection.