The highest good is prayer and conversation with God, because we are in God’s company and in union with him. When light enters our bodily eyes our eyesight is sharpened. When a soul is intent on God, God’s inextinguishable light shines into it and makes it bright and clear. I am talking, of course, of prayer that comes from the heart and not from routine: not the prayer that is assigned to particular days or particular moments in time, but the prayer that happens continuously by day and by night.
Indeed the soul should not only turn to God at times of explicit prayer. Whatever we are engaged in, whether it is care for the poor, or some other duty, or some act of generosity, we should remember God and long for God. The love of God will be as salt is to food, making our actions into a perfect dish to set before the Lord of all things.
Prayer is the light of the soul, true knowledge of God, a mediator between God and men. Prayer lifts the soul into the heavens where it hugs God in an indescribable embrace. The soul seeks the milk of God like a baby crying for the breast. It fulfils its own vows and receives in exchange gifts better than anything that can be seen or imagined.
Prayer is a go-between linking us to God. It gives joy to the soul and calms its emotions. I warn you, though: do not imagine that prayer is simply words. Prayer is the desire for God, an indescribable devotion, not given by man but brought about by God’s grace. As St Paul says: though we cannot choose words in order to pray properly, the Spirit himself intercedes for us in a way that could never be put into words.
If God gives to someone the gift of such prayer, it is a gift of imperishable riches, a heavenly food that satisfies the spirit. Whoever tastes that food catches fire and his soul burns for ever with desire for the Lord.
The scripture readings at daily Mass during Lent are arranged differently than they are for the most of the year. For most of the year the readings are consecutive. There is no attempt to harmonize the first readings and the gospel readings.
In Lent the first reading and the gospel complement each other. Our first reading today from Isaiah is a commentary on Matthew’s gospel where Jesus teaches his disciples the Our Father. (Matthew 5: 14-17) In this 1st week of Lent our readings contain Jesus teaching on prayer.
Isaiah adds an interesting dimension to Jesus’ teaching on prayer.
Thus says the LORD: Just as from the heavens the rain and snow come down and do not return there till they have watered the earth, making it fertile and fruitful, giving seed to the one who sows and bread to the one who eats, so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth;
It shall not return to me void, but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it. (Isaiah 55:10-11)
Isaiah says that God’s word comes from the heavens like rain and snow, watering the earth, making it fruitful, giving seed to the sower and bread to the one who eats. “It shall not return to me void, but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it.”
Prayer is a gift from God in heaven, whom Jesus tells us to pray to. God wishes to speak to us, to communicate with us, to share divine life with us his children, as “our Father.” The gift is like rain and snow, mysteriously given,, yet in some way sure to come and effective. Prayer begins, not with us, but with God desiring friendship with us.
It’s a gift that, like rain and snow, falls upon the whole earth. It falls on all people, on the publican who wonders if he belongs in the temple at all, on Queen Esther, the fallen-away Jewess whom we remember in Thursday’s reading this week, or the people of Nineveh who we remember on Wednesday. It falls on the just and the unjust. Prayer is a gift given to all.
Lent is a time for renewing our intimacy with God in prayer. It’s an intimacy drawing us to be like him. It’s a seed we’re given to cultivate, a valuable gift of God, our Father in heaven. Let’s care for it:
Our Father who art in heaven. ,hallowed be thy name, thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven .Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
“What prayer could be more a prayer in the spirit than the one given us by Christ, by whom the Holy Spirit was sent upon us? What prayer could be more a prayer in the truth than the one spoken by the lips of the Son, who is truth himself? It follows that to pray in any other way than the Son has taught us is not only the result of ignorance but of sin. He himself has commanded it, and has said: You reject the command of God, to set up your own tradition.
So, my brothers and sisters, , let us pray as God our master has taught us. To ask the Father in words his Son has given us, to let him hear the prayer of Christ ringing in his ears, is to make our prayer one of friendship, a family prayer. Let the Father recognise the words of his Son. Let the Son who lives in our hearts be also on our lips. We have him as an advocate for sinners before the Father; when we ask forgiveness for our sins, let us use the words given by our advocate. He tells us: Whatever you ask the Father in my name, he will give you. What more effective prayer could we then make in the name of Christ than in the words of his own prayer?” St. Cyprian, On the Lord’s Prayer
Today’s the feast of St. Polycarp. Some years ago, I visited Izmir in Turkey where Polycarp, a revered Christian bishop, was martyred about the year 155. The city was then called Smyrna. Now predominantly Muslim, there’s a small church of St. Polycarp in the city and up the mountain is the ancient agora and the ruins of the stadium where Polycarp was burned to death by the Romans.
The account of his martyrdom, sent to other Christian churches by the Christians of Smyrna, is one of the most interesting documents of the early church. Polycarp was an old man, 86. As a child he knew John the Apostle and was a friend of Ignatius of Antioch, another early bishop martyred for the faith. He was also a teacher of Irenaeus, who became bishop of Lyon in Gaul.
The old bishop went to his death peacefully and heroically, the account indicates:
“When the pyre was ready, Polycarp took off all his clothes and loosened his under-garment. He made an effort also to remove his shoes, though he had been unaccustomed to this, for the faithful always vied with each other in their haste to touch his body. Even before his martyrdom he had received every mark of honour in tribute to his holiness of life.
There and then he was surrounded by the material for the pyre. When they tried to fasten him also with nails, he said: “Leave me as I am. The one who gives me strength to endure the fire will also give me strength to stay quite still on the pyre, even without the precaution of your nails.” So they did not fix him to the pyre with nails but only fastened him instead. Bound as he was, with hands behind his back, he stood like a mighty ram, chosen out for sacrifice from a great flock, a worthy victim made ready to be offered to God.
Looking up to heaven, he said: “Lord, almighty God, Father of your beloved and blessed Son Jesus Christ, through whom we have come to the knowledge of yourself, God of angels, of powers, of all creation, of all the race of saints who live in your sight, I bless you for judging me worthy of this day, this hour, so that in the company of the martyrs I may share the cup of Christ, your anointed one, and so rise again to eternal life in soul and body, immortal through the power of the Holy Spirit. May I be received among the martyrs in your presence today as a rich and pleasing sacrifice. God of truth, stranger to falsehood, you have prepared this and revealed it to me and now you have fulfilled your promise.
“I praise you for all things, I bless you, I glorify you through the eternal priest of heaven, Jesus Christ, your beloved Son. Through him be glory to you, together with him and the Holy Spirit, now and for ever. Amen.”
When he had said “Amen” and finished the prayer, the officials at the pyre lit it. But, when a great flame burst out, those of us privileged to see it witnessed a strange and wonderful thing. Indeed, we have been spared in order to tell the story to others. Like a ship’s sail swelling in the wind, the flame became as it were a dome encircling the martyr’s body. Surrounded by the fire, his body was like bread that is baked, or gold and silver white-hot in a furnace, not like flesh that has been burnt. So sweet a fragrance came to us that it was like that of burning incense or some other costly and sweet-smelling gum.”
One small incident occurred on our visit to Izmir I still remember. It happened during our visit to the Church of St. Polycarp, which is today the only Christian presence in a Muslim city. The custodian asked us to sign our names in the visitors’ book and as I did I noticed many signatures in Korean. When I asked about them, the custodian said the church is a favorite pilgrimage destination for Korean Catholics.
Somebody must have told Polycarp’s story in Korea and it must have impressed them there. A missionary priest or sister, perhaps? Heroes inspire us, old heroes as well as young. Who knows? But we need more Polycarps.
Here’s how Polycarp answered the judge who urged him to renounce his faith and live:
“I have been a servant of Christ for eighty-six years and no evil has come near me: how can I now speak against my king who has saved me?”
“’Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?’…Amen I say to you as long as you did it for one of the least, you did it for me.” Matthew 25, 31-46 Readings
Jesus was tempted to be a messiah of another kind, a messiah marked by ” power, success, and dominion and not by the total gift on the Cross, not by the messianism of gift and selfless love.” (Benedict XVI)
You don’t need to be hungry, thirsty, or sick; you don’t have to die. You can be above all that, Satan said to him. You can have all the kingdoms of this world. You can be a privileged religious leader who tells God what to do. One who receives instead of gives.
“Away with you, Satan,” Jesus says and he leaves the Jordan Valley. He goes, not to Jerusalem, center of religious and political power, but fo Galilee to give to those who “live in darkness and the shadow of death.”, to those described in today’s gospel as “the least:” the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, the stranger, the sick, the prisoner. Jesus identifies with them.
“You shall love your neighbor as youself,” Moses teaches in today’s first reading. We must follow him. How? The readings this week tell us–by prayer. “When did we see you?…” they say. Prayer helps us to see. Remember how much prayer was a part of Mother Teresa’s ministry to the poor. She saw in “the least” “Christ in disguise.” She saw because she was a woman of prayer which gave her eyes to see. Duk Soon Fwang in her painting of the saint befow has tears from her eyes giving life to an abandoned child.
There’s a grace in this season for seeing the least this way. Let’s ask for it
Lord Jesus Christ, may I see you in my neighbor, especially those “in disguise.” those in need who may seem unlike you.
May I love you in my neighbors, and find you in the least of them. Amen.
I ask myself who gave me the gift of life? I breathe, I know things, above all I know God and can hope for the kingdom of heaven and the sight of glory, however darkly as in a mirror I see it now.
I’m a child of God, one with Christ. Where did I get this; who gave it to me? I look at the world around me. Who gave me eyes to see the beauty of the sky, the sunlit universe, the countless stars, the harmony of living things?
I feel the rain nourishing the earth bringing food to us all. I have family, friends. Who gave them to me? Can I see how generous God is to me and not be generous to all creation? How can I misuse the gifts I have been given?
God sends down rain on the just and the unjust. The sun rises on all creation. Birds have the air; fish have water. God gives abundantly. How can I say it’s only mine that’s meant for all?
Lent always begins with two stories from the gospel. On the 1st Sunday of Lent we follow Jesus Christ after his baptism into the desert where he’s tempted by Satan for forty days.
The 2nd Sunday of Lent we follow him up the mountain where he reveals his glory to his disciples. His transfiguration.
This year we listen to these two stories from the Gospel of Matthew.
The two stories are highly symbolic. Jesus is the new Adam. The first Adam was banished from Paradise to a desert land. Jesus, the new Adam, enters that desert to lead humanity back to Paradise. He breaks the hold of Satan, who tempted the first Adam in the garden.
When Jesus goes up the mountain with his disciples and is transfigured before them he shows them the glory they will share through his resurrection after his death on the mountain of Calvary.
Lent is a time when we “grow in understanding” of these mysteries of the death and resurrection of Jesus.
Grant, almighty God, through the yearly observances of holy Lent, that we may grow in understanding of the riches hidden in Christ and by worthy conduct pursue their effects. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, for ever and ever. (Collect, 1st Sunday of Lent)
On the 2nd Sunday of Lent we follow him up the mountain where he reveals the glory that awaits us. Lent is a time of revelation, the prayer that begins this season says. Jesus reveals his glory to us as well as to the disciples who accompanied him then.
Now is a time to “grow in understanding”of the Paschal Mystery. We know so little of the mystery we celebrate. The riches are “hidden in Christ” and not immediately obvious. We must pursue them humbly, dig for the treasures hidden in the field, find Jesus Christ in the desert world we live in.
This is not just an intellectual effort either. By “worthy conduct”, good deeds, patient love for others, we uncover the “riches hidden in Christ”.
All our efforts mean little, though, unless the Almighty God grant it, “Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, for ever and ever. Amen.”
O God, who have commanded us to listen to your beloved Son, be pleased, we pray, to nourish us inwardly by your word, that, with spiritual sight made pure, we may rejoice to behold your glory. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, for ever and ever. Amen. (Collect, 2nd Sunday of Lent)
The Transfiguration of Jesus is a strongly visual mystery. Jesus is revealed in glory on the mountain. Yet, we are told to “listen” to God’s beloved Son. His words we hear within will give us the spiritual eyes we need to behold his glory.
What about our eyes that long to see? The stories of Abraham who is told to search the starry skies and look at the land he has been given tell us the treasures of the natural world can nourish our desire to see more, namely, the glory revealed in Jesus Christ, God’s Son. Now we listen, then we shall see.
Jesus saw a tax collector named Levi sitting at the customs post. He said to him, “Follow me.” And leaving everything behind, he got up and followed him.
It’s hard to imagine a more unlikely apostle than Levi, also called Matthew. Tax collectors like him, agents of a feared and hated government, were despised by ordinary Jews because they belonged to a profession considered greedy, unfair and unclean. They were unwelcome in the synagogues and temple. No good Jew wanted anything to do with them.
Yet Jesus called Matthew and ate with him and his friends. Jewish leaders in Capernaum were outraged: “Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?” Jesus’ answer is the answer of a merciful God. “The healthy don’t need a physician, but the sick do.”
There are no incurables whom God won’t cure. Tax collectors are God’s children and belong to God’s family as anyone else does. The call of Matthew is a lenten reminder that God doesn’t reach out to a favored few; he reaches out to the whole wounded world. So should we.
When St. Paul of the Cross, the founder of the Passionists, preached missions in the 18th cenury in the towns of the Tuscan Maremma, he set up a platform in the village square to speak to all who came by. The crucifix he held high in his hands was a sign of God’s mercy offered to all and denied to none. Bandits were common in Tuscan Maremma, and Paul brought many of these “unofficial Tax-collectors” back into society. Jesus wanted them to be saved.
“I rejoiced that our great God should wish to make use of so great a sinner…I tell my beloved Jesus that all creatures shall sing his mercies.” (Diary)
Lord, who are the tax collectors I wont eat with and the sick I won’t heal? Let me see them and welcome them as you did.
The Stations of the Cross, one of the most popular devotions to the Passion of Christ, follows the final earthly journey of Jesus. His journey begins at the Garden of Gethsemane and ends at Calvary where he was crucified. Then, he was placed in a new tomb in the garden. The Stations are found everywhere in the Catholic world in churches, shrines and country pathways.
The devotion grew in the high middle ages and became especially popular in the 18th century inspired by the preaching of St. Leonard of Port Maurice (+1771). St. Paul of the Cross and the Passionists encouraged the devotion.
The devotion is a journey, a pilgrimage, and promise of a passage from this life to a risen life. The Passion of Jesus is a book of life that reveals the wisdom and power of the Cross.
Like other devotions, the Stations of the Cross is not limited to set words or actions. It’s a meditational prayer. Like the four gospels it opens our minds to see the Passion of Jesus in different ways.
The Stations of the Cross offer a message of hope in Jesus who died and rose again. It’s a prayer for children and for all ages. It leads to the mystery of the Risen Jesus who conquered death and brings life.
The first video above describes the history of the devotion. The video for children can also be found on the internet.
For further information on the Passion of Jesus Christ, see www.passionofchrist.us in PassionistPray.org
The disciples of John approached Jesus and said, “Why do we and the Pharisees fast much, but your disciples do not fast?” Jesus answered them, “Can the wedding guests mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them?The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them,and then they will fast.” (Matthew 9,14-15)
The disciples of John and the Pharisees seem to measure fasting in terms of quantity and a neat little list they consult. Like the Pharisee in Jesus’ parable of the Pharisee and the Taxcollector they have it down to numbers, “I fast twice a week, I pay tithes on all my income.” (Luke 18:24) Fasting twice a week, paying tithes takes care of it. The job is done.
Lent is meant to unsettle us, not to make us smug. Our reading from Isaiah warns against that kind of rote fasting and dangerous self-satisfaction. It’s not a matter of numbers or how many times you bow your head to the ground, the prophet says. In fact, like the Pharisee in the temple we can miss what’s really important– mercy, an unsettling gift.
This, rather, is the fasting that I wish: releasing those bound unjustly, untying the thongs of the yoke; Setting free the oppressed, breaking every yoke; Sharing your bread with the hungry, sheltering the oppressed and the homeless; Clothing the naked when you see them, and not turning your back on your own.
Fasting should come from seeing the needs of others and doing something about it– not “turning your back on your own.” Jesus Christ saw the needs of others and did something about it. He saw everyone as “his own” and turned to them.
He is the “Bridegroom” with us this holy season. May we see our world with his eyes and his heart.
Open our eyes, O God, to the gift of your Son, Jesus Christ,
The Word who made the universe,
The Savior sent to redeem us.
Give us grace to rejoice in his presence these days of Lent
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