Category Archives: Passionists

God’s Forgiveness

Time and place are tools that help us understand the gospels. On our lenten journey, we are in Jerusalem with Jesus. From the 4th week of Lent, John’s gospel, describing what Jesus did in the Holy City, is the preferred source for our Mass readings on Sundays and weekdays before Easter.

Unlike the synoptic gospels which present him making a single journey to Jerusalem, John’s gospel indicates that Jesus went often to the Holy City, as one would expect. He’s more than a dutiful Jew visiting the temple to celebrate the Jewish feasts, though. He’s more than a simple Galilean peasant from Nazareth caught in a random attempt by the city’s leaders to squelch a possible revolution. In John’s gospel, he is the Word made flesh, the Savior of the world, replacing the temple and its worship; he’s God’s presence on earth. “I am.”

Going to Jerusalem to celebrate the feasts was essential for Jesus’ mission. During the Feast of Tabernacles, the Feast of the Dedication of the Temple, and the Feast of Passover he makes startling claims before the Jewish people and their leaders. The false witnesses who testify later at his trial before the Jewish Sanhedrin are not far from the real claim he made; he came, not to destroy the temple, but to be its replacement.

Jesus’ meeting with the Samaritan woman (3rd Sunday A), which John describes at length, takes place as he returns from Jerusalem after driving out the buyers and sellers from the temple during the feast of Passover. He is the purified temple and all will be drawn to him. The Samaritan woman and her neighbors who welcome him stand for all the outsiders called to worship “in spirit and in truth.”

The temple was the place where sin was forgiven. Today’s reading about the woman caught in adultery (Monday, 5th week) takes us to the temple area and reminds us that Jesus, the Lamb of God, takes away the sin of the world. He is a sign of God’s mercy to the woman standing before him, and to all of us. His forgiveness is far beyond the forgiveness of the scribes and pharisees who would stone the woman to death, according to the Law of Moses.

God’s forgiveness goes far beyond their forgiveness–and far beyond ours too.

The Courtyard of the Gentiles

Last week Pope Benedict addressed people attending the opening of the Courtyard of the Gentiles before the great cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris. It’s a space he hopes will be created throughout the world before our important Christian buildings to meet the world which Jesus invites into his temple. As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, Benedict sees the incident of Jesus cleansing the temple as a symbolic preparation for the entrance of the Gentiles to this holy place. “Come, let us climb the Lord’s mountain, to the house of the God of Jacob, that he may instruct us in his truth and we may walk in his ways.” Isaiah 2, 2-5  Here are the pope’s words:

“I am grateful to the Pontifical Council for having taken up and extended my invitation to open a number of “Courts of the Gentiles” within the Church. This image refers to the vast open space near the Temple of Jerusalem where all those who did not share the faith of Israel could approach the Temple and ask questions about religion. There they could meet the scribes, speak of faith and even pray to the unknown God. The Court was then an area of separation, since Gentiles did not have the right to enter the consecrated area, yet Jesus Christ came to “break down the dividing wall” between Jews and Gentiles, and to “reconcile both to God in one body through the cross, thus putting to death that hostility in himself”. In the words of Saint Paul, “He came and proclaimed peace…” (cf. Eph 2:14-17).

At the heart of the “City of Light”, in front of the magnificent masterwork of French religious culture which is Notre Dame, a great court has been created in order to give fresh impetus to respectful and friendly encounter between people of differing convictions. You young people, believers and non-believers alike, have chosen to come together this evening, as you do in your daily lives, in order to meet one another and to discuss the great questions of human existence. Nowadays many people acknowledge that they are not part of any religion, yet they long for a new world, a world that is freer, more just and united, more peaceful and happy. In speaking to you tonight, I think of all the things you have to say to each other. Those of you who are non-believers challenge believers in a particular way to live in a way consistent with the faith they profess and by your rejection of any distortion of religion which would make it unworthy of man. Those of you who are believers long to tell your friends that the treasure dwelling within you is meant to be shared, it raises questions, it calls for reflection. The question of God is not a menace to society, it does not threaten a truly human life! The question of God must not be absent from the other great questions of our time.

for full text.

Be interesting to have a Court of the Gentiles before all our Christian institutions.

Ash Wednesday Thoughts

We should be humble in mind, putting aside all arrogance, pride and foolish anger. Rather, we should act in accordance with the Scriptures, as the Holy Spirit says: The wise person must not glory in his wisdom nor the strong one in his strength nor the rich one in his riches. Rather, let him who glories glory in the Lord by seeking him and doing what is right and just. Recall especially what the Lord Jesus said when he taught gentleness and forbearance. Be merciful, he said, so that you may have mercy shown to you. Forgive, so that you may be forgiven. As you treat others, so you will be treated. As you give, so you will receive. As you judge, so you will be judged. As you are kind to others, so you will be treated kindly. The measure of your giving will be the measure of your receiving.”

St. Clement of Rome

Sharing in Paul’s Conversion

Today, the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul, the liturgy invites us, not to look on Paul from a distance, but to share the mystery of his life. So I  can say:

“Victor, my grace is sufficient for you; my power is made perfect in weakness.” “God’s grace in me has not been without fruit; it is always at work in me.”

By looking on Paul simply as a distant historical figure or a Christian hero we diminish what we share with him.

Here’s how St. John Chrysostom sees him:

“Paul more than anyone else, shows us what we really are, and in what our nobility consists, and what we are capable of. Each day he aimed ever higher; each day he rose up with greater ardor and faced with new eagerness the dangers that threatened him. He summed up his attitude in the words: I forget what is behind me and push on to what lies ahead. When he saw death imminent, he bade others share his joy: Rejoice and be glad with me! And when danger, injustice and abuse threatened, he said: I am content with weakness, mistreatment and persecution. These he called the weapons of righteousness, thus telling us that he derived immense profit from them.

“ He boasted of constant beatings, abuse and cursing as though he were taking trophies home on a triumphal procession, giving thanks to God for it all. The only thing he really wanted was always to please God.

“He knew himself to be loved by Christ. Enjoying this love, he considered himself happier than anyone else; were he without it, it would be no satisfaction to be the friend of principalities and powers. He preferred to be thus loved and be the least of all, or even to be among the damned, than to be without that love and be among the great and honored.

“Paul set no store by the things that fill our visible world, any more than someone sets value on the withered grass of the field. As for tyrannical rulers or the people enraged against him, he paid them no more heed than gnats. Death itself and pain and whatever torments might come were but child’s play to him, provided that thereby he might bear some burden for the sake of Christ.”

 

Called by Name

Last weekend I was over at our monastery in Jamaica, Long Island, to participate in a program: Called by Name. It’s for young men who might be interested in joining our community.  No one came. Maybe the weather had something to do with it, but I don’t think it had that much.

Afterward,  three of us who were there to offer some input sat around and talked about vocations to the priesthood and religious life; our conversation gradually went beyond those callings to the whole question of vocation itself.

The word “vocation” comes from the latin word, “vocatio,”  meaning a call, an invitation. The first vocation we have is God’s call, God’s invitation to life in this world. We have been invited to life on earth by God, and he calls us to do certain things in our time here. We have been called by name, individually. The human family has a collective destiny here on earth, but each of us has something to do.

Then, God invites us to another world, we’re called to another life when our years here are done.

It’s important to remember this, because we tend to believe that we choose life and everything involved in it, and God has nothing at all to do with it. That’s not so; God has invited us to live, and our happiness depends on how we accept the call we have received.

One of the priests I was with last week told us the story of his own vocation. He’s a young priest, who was raised in a Catholic family that gave him the best of everything.  “But I didn’t know what I wanted to do in life,” he said, so his parents persuaded him to study to be an engineer.  It’s a good job, good pay. So he studied and got an engineering degree and landed a good job. But he said he wasn’t really happy with his life; he felt it wasn’t what he was meant to do. Finally, after praying about it and discerning about it, he became a priest. This is where he belongs, he told us.

Our call by God is not just a one-time call. God calls us over a lifetime It’s important to remember this. A vocation unfolds over the years.  I decided to become a priest 52 years ago. But I have to answer God’s call today. God’s call is ongoing, so I must ask continually: “What do you want of me now, Lord? Let me hear your call.”

The tragedy that’s just occurred in Tuscon may remind us of the on-going nature of a vocation.  A congresswoman goes out for an ordinary meeting with her constituents, her assistant goes along in her company, a federal judge in her community stops by to say hello, a husband and wife join the group, a little girl interested in politics also joins them. You never know the consequences of your life.

That day they had to live their lives in exceptional circumstances.

I suppose that 9 year-old Christina Taylor Green was one we noticed particularly in the tragedy. It wasn’t just because she was so young, but because she was so alive with so much promise, so much spirit. There was so much of a calling in her. She seemed to be someone our world needs.

She makes us aware that vocation is a mystery. It’s important to remember that too. So much of it is in God’s hands. That’s why we must pray about it. In the Our Father we say  “Your will be done,” We must try to know God’s will, to hear what God is calling us to do now, and to accept it.  “Here I am, Lord, I come to do your will.”

That the theme of today’s scripture reading at Mass. Our first reading from the Prophet Isaiah says that that we called from the beginnings of our lives, from the womb, to serve God. That call from God goes on to the end of our lives. It’s not something small or negligible that we’re called to do. “I will make you a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach the ends of the earth.” We have a role to play in the mysterious plan of God.

Every few months, a man from California calls and asks for 1,000 or 2,000 little leaflets that we distribute from our place in Union City. It’s a leaflet entitled “Be With Me Today, O Lord.” He gives them out to kids in school and puts them in the back of churches. It’s a simple little reminder that God calls us. We have a vocation.

“Today is new unlike any other day, for God makes each day different.

Today, God’s everyday grace falls on my soul like abundant seed though I may hardly see it.

Today is one of those days Jesus promised to be with me, a companion on my journey, and my life  today has consequences unseen, my life has a purpose.

“I have a mission…I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. God has not created me for naught…Therefore will I trust him. Whatever, wherever I am I can never be thrown away. God does nothing in vain. He knows what he is about.”

May all I do today, begin with you, O Lord. Plant dreams and hopes within my soul, revive my tired spirit: be with me today.

May all I do today continue with your help, O Lord. Be at my side and walk with me; Be my support today.

May all I do today reach far and wide, O Lord. My thoughts, my work, my life–make them blessings for your kingdom; let them go beyond today, O God.

Maybe someone will hear that message someday and say, “I think God is calling me to be a priest.” I hope so.

Looking Back, Looking Ahead

The Passionists have daily reflections on the Mass readings and I was the reflector for today:

The final days of the year are days for looking back and looking ahead.  It’s a favorite time for pundits and experts of all kind to take their seats on radio and television talk shows to measure the times.  They mostly see the past and future through the lens of politics and economics. Power and money explain it all, they say.  But do they?

Our readings for today advise measuring things differently. “Children, it is the last hour; ?and just as you heard that the antichrist was coming,? so now many antichrists have appeared.” A grim assessment isn’t it? St. John’s 1st Letter seems to paint the times dark and haunted by evil spirits.

Yet, the opening words of his gospel that follow look beyond the darkness, beyond time and space, to the beginning of it all.

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came to be through him, and without him nothing came to be. What came to be through him was life, and this life was the light of the human race; the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

The Word of God, Jesus Christ, brings to the world life and light, and darkness cannot overcome him. That’s something to remember as commentators throw up their hands trying to make sense of the world today. Or, more personally, when we hear ourselves thinking we’re going to be overcome by the dark.

The Word became flesh and has made his dwelling among us. “From his fullness we have all received, grace in place of grace.”

Window on the World

The window in my room faces west to a slice of Union City that includes the old monastery church and parking space, some city athletic fields, a crowded  block of houses along 21st Street and a few big oak trees that somehow have survived the urban sprawl.  It’s a wonderful window for taking in the world.

Earlier this morning, Jose reached into the van carrying some neighborhood people to work to bless them, anticipating the morning sun that blesses everything now. A  few minutes ago, a flock of pigeons momentarily touched down on the wires along the street, thenflew away. I can’t figure out their unpredictable ways.

I leave the tiny figures of Mary and Joseph and the Child on the window sill all year because they seem to complete the picture.  Keep your eyes fixed on examples of faith, St. Ambrose said yesterday in his commentary on the Visitation.  Mary saw it in Elizabeth and Elizabeth saw it in Mary. Joseph certainly had eyes of faith too.  The Child is so small.  Only eyes of faith can see him–and everything else as well.

Genealogies tell us who we are

We may stumble over the names in Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus, our reading for today’s liturgy, but  Pope Leo the Great says in our Office of Readings, the genealogies tell us who he is. “To speak of our Lord, the son of the Blessed Virgin Mary, as true and perfect man is of no value to us if we do not believe that he is descended from the line of ancestors set out in the Gospel.”

I reflected about this gospel elsewhere today, but here’s what Leo says about it:

“No doubt the Son of God in his omnipotence could have taught and sanctified us by appearing in a semblance of human form as he did to the patriarchs and prophets, when for instance he engaged in a wrestling contest or entered into conversation with them, or when he accepted their hospitality and even ate the food they set before him. But these appearances were only types, signs that mysteriously foretold the coming of one who would take a true human nature from the stock of the patriarchs who had gone before him. No mere figure, then, fulfilled the mystery of our reconciliation with God, ordained from all eternity…The divine nature and the nature of a servant were to be united in one person so that the Creator of time might be born in time, and he through whom all things were made might be brought forth in their midst.

For unless the new man, by being made in the likeness of sinful flesh, had taken on himself the nature of our first parents, unless he had stooped to be one in substance with his mother while sharing the Father’s substance and, being alone free from sin, united our nature to his, the whole human race would still be held captive under the dominion of Satan. The Conqueror’s victory would have profited us nothing if the battle had been fought outside our human condition.”

So that’s where the battle and the victory takes place today, in our human condition, where our names are found.

Seeing God

Here’s why I like St. Ireneaus:

“The prophets foretold that God would be seen by us; as indeed the Lord himself confirmed: Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

But at the same time God is great and unspeakably glorious, so that no one shall see God and live, for God can never be completely understood. But God is loving and kind and omnipotent, and so he gives the sight of God, the greatest gift of all, to those who love him. Even this was foretold by the prophets: For those things that are humanly impossible, are possible with God.

We don’t see God by our own powers; but we see God when it pleases him that this should be so. God decides who should see him, and when, for God is powerful in all things. He was seen in the past prophetically, through the Spirit, and now by adoption through the Son; and in the kingdom of heaven he will be seen as a true father. The Spirit prepares humanity for the Son of God, the Son leads it to God, and the God gives it the gift of incorruptible eternal life, a life that everyone receives who sees God.”

 

Love in Ruins

 

The playwright Stephen Sondheim in a recent interview on The Newshour said that playwrights should listen to their audience and know who they are and what kind of world they live in. Preachers have to do that too.

You can see St. Peter Chrysologus of Ravenna, in a homily today in the Office of Readings, doing that. He’s describing a fearful world falling into ruins. It’s the Roman Empire coming apart as barbarian tribes invade it in the late 5th century.

The bishop of Ravenna uses biblical images, not current events, to describe what’s happening. It’s a deluge, like that experienced by Noah in his time. But notice how he sees God working lovingly through it all:

“Thus, when the earth had grown old in evil, God sent the flood both to punish and to release it. He called Noah to be the father of a new era, urged him with gentle words, and showed his trust in him. He instructed him about the present and reassured him about the future. God did not just issue orders but shared in the work of shutting into the ark all that was to be born into the world in the future. Thus by sharing in love he took away servile fear, and he protected with shared love whatever their shared labour had saved.”

So God works lovingly, and not at a distance, but side by side with Noah as the deluge goes on, taking away his fear.

It’s a world such as Abraham experienced, unsettling, calling for change. But a loving God is also at Abraham’s side as he journeys into a strange world:

“Thus God called Abraham out of the heathen world, lengthened his name from ‘Abram’, and made him our father in faith. He accompanied him on his journeys, protected him in foreign lands, enriched him with possessions, and honoured him with victories. He made promises to him, saved him from harm, accepted his hospitality, and astonished him by giving him the offspring he had despaired of. Abraham was favoured with so many good things and drawn by God’s sweet love so that he would learn to love, not fear: love, not fear was to inspire him to worship.”

Mosaics in the ancient churches of Ravenna often feature Abraham.

The bishop of Ravenna goes on to describe Jacob wrestling with a loving God and Moses called to lead a people into a new land. The God who works in ruins and challenges does not lead to fear and despair but love and promise.

As we discover God in the deluge, on the journey, in desperate situations, we say with Moses: “If I have found favor with you, show me your face,”  the bishop says. “Love cannot accept not seeing the thing that it loves. That is why the saints counted whatever they deserved as being nothing if it did not mean that they could see the Lord.”

Experiencing the mystery of the cross, finding a loving God in our sufferings, leads us to seek the face of God.

Peter, the bishop of Ravenna , spoke golden words, that’s why he was called “Chrysologus.” The Empress Galla Placida, who had her share of suffering and exile, heard him speak and probably gave him that title. He’s one of the patrons of preachers. They say he was always afraid of boring people when he spoke. Would that we were all fearful of that!