In our readings this 14th week of the year from Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus calls for laborers for a harvest: “The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest.” He gathers twelve disciples following that call. When we think of laborers in the vineyard we think of priests and religious. They are certainly needed for the harvest in our own church.
But they’re not the only laborers needed for God’s great harvest. What about laborers for places where priests or religious will never be? And what about the harvest itself, where does that happen?
I’m sure at one time or another you have overheard people at a restaurant or on a bus or at some gathering discussing religion. “What do you think of the pope?” “Do you think there’s life after death?” “Do you think Jesus is really God?” Often the questions go unanswered or wrongly answered because there’s no laborer there to speak the truth.
The harvest is waiting in a lot of places..
Jesus spoke about the laborers for the harvest as he moved from town to town in Galilee and saw “troubled and abandoned” crowds, Matthew’s gospel says. We need to ask for laborers among crowds like those of today. Maybe we need to recognize there’s a harvest not far from where we are, “troubled and abandoned,” at a table nearby.
Thus says the LORD: When Israel was a child I loved him, out of Egypt I called my son. The more I called them, the farther they went from me,Sacrificing to the Baalsand burning incense to idols.
Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk, who took them in my arms; I drew them with human cords, with bands of love; I fostered them like onewho raises an infant to his cheeks; Yet, though I stooped to feed my child, they did not know that I was their healer.
My heart is overwhelmed, my pity is stirred. I will not give vent to my blazing anger, I will not destroy Ephraim again; For I am God and not man, the Holy One present among you; I will not let the flames consume you.Hosea 11:1-4,8-9
Today’s reading from Hosea reminds us why we read the Old Testament prophets. In an extraordinary way they capture the image of God in simple human terms, whether it’s the love of man and woman or parents for a child.
“When Israel was a child I loved him.” And God’s love is no abstract love. “I taught him to walk, I took him into my arms. I raised him to my cheeks, I stooped to feed him.”
The prophet describes God’s love through the simple “human cords and bands of love” a parent has in raising a child. How easily we forget those “bands of love” by which we were brought up. We forget them, and we also forget the myriad ways God has been with us.
We may forget, but God does not forget. God’s love is like a mother and father who cannot forget, the prophet says:
“ My heart is overwhelmed, my pity is stirred. I will not give vent to my blazing anger,I will not destroy Ephraim again; For I am God and not man, the Holy One present among you; I will not let the flames consume you.”
Commentators say the Book of Hosea, the 8th century Jewish prophet we’re reading at Mass in the 14th week of the year, is one of the most difficult books of the bible to understand. Its language and its references are often obscure. But one part of Hosea’s story you can recognize in any television soap opera or romantic novel today: It’s a story of marital infidelity, a broken marriage.
Hosea had trouble with his wife, whose name is Gomer. He was very much in love with her; they married and had some children. But Gomer’s not satisfied with Hosea and her family and she leaves them. She wants something else– romance, freedom, new things to see and to do, a new life. Who knows what?
So Hosea is heartbroken and crushed when she leaves him. He doesn’t understand why it’s happened, he’s bewildered and angry and feeling rejected.
Yet he still loves her and tries to win her back. He wants to renew the love they had for each other. Eventually, Gomer comes back, but we’re not really sure if she will stay. What we do know is that Hosea wants to have her back and have their love renewed.
Hosea’s story is an example of God’s relationship to humanity. God loves the world and its people. Yet, we can be unfaithful. But God’s relationship is like the marital relationship, or as we also see in the Book of Hosea, the relationship of a father or mother to their children. God always wants us back.
You can hear the yearning of Hosea for his wife and the love of God for his people in Monday’s reading:
Thus says the LORD:
I will allure her;
I will lead her into the desert
and speak to her heart.
She shall respond there as in the days of her youth,
when she came up from the land of Egypt.
On that day, says the LORD,
She shall call me “My husband,”
and never again “My baal.”
I will espouse you to me forever:
I will espouse you in right and in justice,
in love and in mercy;
I will espouse you in fidelity,
and you shall know the LORD.
(Hosea 2:6, 17-18,21-22)
Hosea is a wonderful prophet paired with Jesus’ call for preachers for the harvest, which also read from Matthew’s Gospel this week. God always wants us back.
“Hail Holy Queen, mother of mercy, our life, our sweetness and our hope.” Why is Mary called “mother of mercy?” First of all, because she knew she had received the mercy of God which, like the oil poured on kings and priests, gave her power “to fulfill what is beyond human capabilities.” (Anthony Bloom)
Her cousin Elizabeth declared her “blessed among women and blessed is the fruit of your womb.” Mary’s responded: ‘The Lord who is mighty has done great things to me, holy is his name.” She knew God’s mercy was a work in her to restore the human race. (Luke 1, 43-48)
How, then, was Mary merciful? How did she do what Jesus taught “Be merciful as your heavenly Father is merciful?” How did she live a merciful life? How did she do those works of mercy that tradition ascribes to the merciful person: • Feed the hungry • Give drink to the thirsty • Clothe the naked • Shelter the homeless • Visit the sick • Visit the imprisoned • Bury the dead
• Admonish the sinner • Instruct the ignorant Comfort the sorrowful Bear wrongs patiently • Forgive all injuries • Pray for the living and the dead
The scriptures say hardly anything about her. “Do whatever he tells you.” she says at the marriage feast of Cana. She had no teaching of her own, but always points to the teaching of her Son. The mystery of the Incarnation says that Jesus took his human nature from Mary, his mother. Can we say he who became like us became like her and Joseph, the man who raised him as a child and into his adult years? From Jesus we can tell what Mary was like, a woman of mercy, and her first school was Nazareth. Now she is a teacher in the church.
The rosary is a prayer we say with Mary, the Mother of Jesus, who leads us into the presence of God and the mysteries of her Son.
“Hail Mary, full of grace” the angel said to her, inviting her to become the Mother of God. (Luke 1:28 ) Mary helps us know Jesus Christ as she did.
“Blessed are you among the women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus” her cousin Elizabeth said to her when she came to visit. (Luke 1:42) Mary is ready always to visit with us.
“Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death” we say to her. In the rosary, as we slowly repeat the words of her prayer and reflect on the mysteries of her Son. Mary helps us see our lives with faith and the promise of life to come. The mysteries of the rosary are our mysteries too.
The School of the Rosary
Tradition suggests we remember certain mysteries of Jesus while praying the rosary: the Joyful, luminous, sorrowful, and glorious mysteries. The rosary has been called a “School of Mary”, for she knows the mysteries of Jesus well and can teach them to us.
The Joyful Mysteries are found mostly in Luke’s Gospel 1-2.
The Annunciation of the Angel to Mary
The Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth
The Birth of Jesus
The Presentation of Jesus in the Temple
The Finding of Jesus in the Temple
The Luminous Mysteries are events in Jesus’ ministry found in all the gospels:
The Baptism of Jesus
The Wedding Feast at Cana
The Proclamation of the Kingdom
The Transfiguration of Jesus
The Last Supper
The Sorrowful Mysteries are events in his passion and death described in the gospels:
The Agony in the Garden
The Scourging at the Pillar
The Crowning with Thorns
The Carrying of the Cross
The Crucifixion
The Glorious Mysteries follow his resurrection, founds in the New Testament.
The Resurrection of Jesus
The Ascension of Jesus into Heaven
The Descent of the Holy Spirit
The Assumption of Mary into Heaven
The Crowning of Mary Queen of Heaven
As we say prayers on our rosaries, Mary quietly, gracefully, as a mother and wise friend, leads us into the presence of God and helps us see the mysteries of faith with her eyes; she knows them better than any scholar or follower of Jesus.
How to Pray the Rosary
There are many ways to say the rosary and reflect on its mysteries. The single beads of an ordinary rosary represent the Our Father, the prayer Jesus taught us to say. The series of ten beads represent the Hail Mary and the mysteries of Jesus Christ. The crucifix on the rosary reminds us to say the Apostles’ Creed, for the rosary is a prayer of faith.
The rosary is not a rigid prayer demanding it be said strictly word by word. It’s a prayer meant for us personally. It welcomes us as we are, unsure, joyful, sorrowful, looking for hope for what’s ahead.
Mary, the Mother of Jesus, is a woman who welcomes us as we are. “Pray for us, O holy Mother of God, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ. “
When to Pray the Rosary
The rosary can be an everyday prayer for some, and occasional prayer for others. On Sundays it can be a prayer for recalling the mysteries of the resurrection of Jesus; on Friday’s for recalling the mysteries of his passion and death.
Every week, day by day, the joyful, luminous, sorrowful and glorious mysteries can be remembered in the prayer..
The rosary is a prayer for Advent, when we remember we live in a waiting world, a world Mary knew so well. The Christmas season recalls the birth of Jesus in detail, the flight into Egypt, the slaughter of the Innocents, the return to Nazareth and the hidden years. “The Word was made flesh,” St. John writes. Mary received the Word as her only Son.
The seasons of Lent and Easter offer further revelations of God in Jesus Christ. Mary went up with him and his disciples from Galilee to Jerusalem. She was there when he was crucified; she stood beneath his Cross. Then, she witnessed his resurrection and the beginnings of his church. She understands the scriptures that speak of him.
Every month of the year a feast of Mary occurs on our church calendar, reminding us of her continual presence in the unfolding plan of God.
The Rosary is a beautiful prayer. It brings wisdom to us as our lives unfold with their joys and sorrows, contradictions and questions. “Hail Mary, full of grace.” “Pray for us, O holy Mother of God, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.”
We’re reading from the Prophet Amos this week at Mass. His message to 8th century Israel is “one of unrelieved gloom,” one commentator says. Free from wars, Israel was far from gloomy. Its rich were getting richer and enjoying the “good life”, at the expense of the poor. The religious authorities said nothing. The only voice raised was the voice of a poor, uneducated farmer who cultivated figs, Amos.
Amos spoke for God: “I hate, I spurn your feasts…I take no pleasure in your solemnities…Away with your noisy songs! I will not listen to the melodies of your harps.” Destruction awaited a people unconcerned about the poor.
Still, God offers mercy to his people as we hear on Saturday in one of Amos’ most beautiful passages, echoes of which inspired Martin Luther KIng’s “I Have a Dream” speech:
“On that day I will raise up
the fallen hut of David;
I will wall up its breaches,
raise up its ruins,
and rebuild it as in the days of old…
Yes, days are coming,
says the LORD,
When the plowman shall overtake the reaper,
and the vintager, him who sows the seed;
The juice of grapes shall drip down the mountains,
and all the hills shall run with it.
I will bring about the restoration of my people Israel;
they shall rebuild and inhabit their ruined cities,
Plant vineyards and drink the wine,
set out gardens and eat the fruits.
I will plant them upon their own ground;
never again shall they be plucked
From the land I have given them,
say I, the LORD, your God.” (Amos 9,11-15)
A beautiful definition of mercy. God comes to humanity at its worst, in its sham, its blindness, its evil, and raises it up again. Mercy does not depend on merit. It’s God loving us in spite of ourselves.
We see mercy best as it’s exemplified in the Passion of Jesus. In spite of hypocrisy and injustice, God offers his love to heedless humanity and the promise of a kingdom.
For this week’s homily, please watch the video below.
We’re reading two miracle stories that Mark puts together in his Gospel.
The story of the little girl from Capernaum, who dies and rises from the dead is obviously the most spectacular. There are so many interesting details in this story. A little girl is dying. Her father, an official of the Synagogue named Jairus went to Jesus to ask that he put his hands on her and make her well. Before Jesus gets to the house, followed by a large crowd, the girl has died and word comes: it’s no use,
But Jesus tells them to have faith, the child’s not dead, but asleep, and they ridicule him. Jesus goes into the house with the girls’ father and mother and some of his own disciples. He takes the dead girl’s hand and says “Talitha koum” , Aramaic, the language Jesus spoke, which means “Little girl, get up..” ” The girl, a child of twelve, gets up and walks around.. Jesus says not to tell anyone, and then he says to them, give her something to eat.
The main lesson of the story is that Jesus has the power to raise us from the dead, yet you can hear in the crowd the human reaction. No, it’s not possible. This is a resurrection story.
Besides that big lesson, there are so many beautiful little details. “Talitha koum.” “Little girl get up. “Give her something to eat.”
Then, there’s the other story Mark wants us to hear. He interrupts the dramatic story of the little girl to tell us about a woman– she has no name– who has had hemorrhages for twelve years and spent all her money on doctors. Obviously she’s poor, broke and stressed out. She pushes through the crowd that’s on the way to Jairus’ house and touches Jesus cloak and is cured.
Jesus recognizes her and calls for her. “In fear and trembling” she approaches him. “Daughter,” Jesus says to her, “ your faith has saved you. Go in peace and be cured of your affliction.” To Jesus the woman is his “daughter,” like the daughter of Jairus. The woman who comes in the crowd, even if she seems like a nobody, is also someone dear to him.
Maybe Mark wants us to be aware that she represents the many ordinary people God loves and the many simple cures God works for them. You don’t have to be the daughter of a synagogue official. Someone known in the church. The power of Jesus goes out to all kinds of people in the crowd. Every one of us is known to him.
I read somewhere recently that the picture of the woman touching Jesus’ garment was one of the most popular pictures in the catacombs in Rome where early Christians buried their death. I wonder if her story reminded them that Jesus loved ordinary people too.
After the 2nd Vatican Council they published a catechism and the Vatican ask the publishers of the catechism to put the picture of the woman touching Jesus’ garments at the beginning of the section on the sacraments. The sacraments as the garments of Christ. When we touch them his power goes out to us.
It’s so simple, isn’t it? “Do to others what you would have them do to you. This is the law and the prophets.” (Matthew 7:14) They call it the Golden Rule, because it can be so broadly applied. Though it’s found among the teachings of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount, it’s not only a Christian, or Catholic rule. It could apply to any religion, Moslem, Buddhist, Hindu, or for people with no religion at all.
It’s a rule that stands out among all the teachings of Jesus.
It’s more than a rule for individuals, a norm for personal conduct. If it were adopted by the community of nations, it would bring peace to our world, fairness to the way we live together. It would bring equality to our present unequal world. How could the strong exploit the weak, if they did to others what they would have them do to them?
“How would you like it if someone did that to you? How would you like it if someone thought that about you? How would you like it if someone wished that happen to you? It’s a rule so simple, yet we shy away from it from making it our own.
“Do to others what you would have them do to you.”
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