Readings The lenten readings from John’s gospel for today and the next week of lent (chapters 7-10) describe Jesus‘ activity in Jerusalem during the eight- day Feast of Tabernacles, the popular autumn feast that brought many visitors to Jerusalem to celebrate the grape harvest and pray for rain. Water was brought into the temple courtyard from the Pool of Siloam and lighted torches were ablaze during the celebration.
Arriving late for the feast, Jesus taught in the temple area and revealed who he was, using the images of water and light. His cure of the blind man, in the 9th chapter of the gospel, is a sign of the light he bestows on a blind world.
Yet, some don’t see. Those hearing him are divided; some want him arrested, some believe, some question his Galilean origins and his upbringing as a carpenter’s son. How can he be the Messiah, a teacher in Israel?
From Nazareth to Jerusalem Jesus met unbelief. Why didn’t all see and believe? People doubted him then; they doubt him now. Even his disciples are slow to believe. “How slow you are to believe…”Jesus says to the two on the way to Emmaus.
But the Word continues to teach in our world and instruct disciples weak in faith. His mission is not ended. That’s why it’s important to stress the great miracles that dominate John’s narrative: the meeting with the Samaritan woman that brings her to faith, the cure of the paralyzed man at Bethseda, the cure of the man born blind, the raising of Lazarus. They tell us of God’s pursuit of humanity, despite its blindness and deafness.
Saints like Paul of the Cross knew that. However fierce the opposition, the Word of God, Jesus Christ, brings light and life.
“All the works of God are now attacked by the devil, now by human beings. I now have both at once. Don’t be dismayed when contrary factions and rejections arise, no matter how great they are. Be encouraged by the example of St. Teresa who said that the more she was involved in enterprises for the glory of God, the more difficulties she experienced.” (Letter 1180)
The Lord is my light and my salvation, Whom should I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life, Of whom should I be afraid?
Lent is a time for us to face up to how very much our God loves us. This is who our God is. Because of this, Lent is also our time to face up to to the hurt that we give to Our Beloved One whenever we behave in unloving ways. We can begin by looking at the commandments that our Church teaches us and examining our conscience. In the Gospel for Wednesday of the Third Week of Lent our Lord warns us: “Whoever breaks the least of these commandments and teaches others to do so will be called the least in the Kingdom of Heaven.” Ouch! I look at the Ten and see how I fall short in fulfilling them, and at times provide a bad example for those around me. I am certainly one of “the least”. Sadly I am not alone. So many of us are in the same boat. And yet Our Lord still includes us in His Kingdom. The least, but still there. Like Fr Victor says, Our Lord has not given up on us!
How can we help God get us out of that hole? Perhaps we can begin by approaching our Creator with humility and trust. In the powerful Gospel for Saturday of this same week, we hear Jesus’ parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector. The attitude of the Pharisee immediately places him next to me as one “of the least!” He has been trying to be “good”, and he feels joy and comfort in the presence of God, especially in his House. This is good. So many of us Christians walk into Mass full of hope and gratitude. But oh! That cardinal sin of pride, the failure to love our neighbor as ourselves!
The tax collector seems to have the better attitude, full of shame, contrite, totally surrendering to the judgement of God. He knows that he certainly is one of the “least”. I’ve always said, “I want to be like him,” in all prayer, specially during the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Today, though, Fr Victor pointed out that this tax collector so far has failed to know how incredibly great is the Love God has for him. This is what our Lord Jesus came to teach. At least the tax collector has a glimmer of belief in the mercy of God. It’s a good beginning, and God exalts him for that.
Sometimes at Mass I feel like the Pharisee, satisfied with my efforts and full of gratitude for God’s Love and presence in my life. The Celebration of the Mass seems like such a joyful time and I wonder why so many fellow worshippers have such long faces! I should know better, because there are times when I walk into Church with that same unhappy mood! All I know is that I am still one of “the least” and I’m not proud of it. I wonder how far down the list I am? Does God keep lists? Who is the least of the least?
I was sitting at the Monastery Chapel thinking about these things and my eyes suddenly looked up to the crucifix up front, and I began to cry. My beloved God chose to become the Least of the least upon that Cross, taking on the pride of the Pharisee, the corruption of the tax collector, my unworthiness, the misery of of those with long faces at Church, and the viciousness and brutality of His time and mine.
Why would God do this? The answer to his mystery is beyond all comprehension. But I do know that the main reason is the incredible love that God has for me and every person on Earth, no matter how far down the list we are.
May the Passion of Jesus Christ be always in our hearts.
Commentators find it hard to establish the time and place the Epistle to the Hebrews was written. Most say it was written for early Jewish Christians trying to figure out their relationship to the religion of their ancestors.
I wonder if Jewish Christians in Rome would be especially among those for whom the letter was written. Rome is one of the places commentators say it might have originated..
The Jewish Christian community of Rome was a large community attached to Jerusalem and the temple, even Jews who had embraced a new faith. They would have been onlookers as Titus marched triumphantly into the Rome carting the spoils and slaves in chains from the Jewish wars and the destruction of the temple in 70. Afterwards, they would have watched the Colosseum bring built with the gold from the temple. Less than 5 years before some were singled out as renegade Jews and blamed by Nero for the great fired that had destroyed the city.
As we read the words from the Epistle to the Hebrews today I wonder if we hear words written especially for them.
“Let us hold unwaveringly to our confession that gives us hope, for he who made the promise is trustworthy.We must consider how to rouse one another to love and good works. We should not stay away from our assembly, as is the custom of some, but encourage one another, and this all the more as you see the day drawing near.” Hebrews 10:19-25
It would be a hard time then for Jewish Christians in Rome “to put your light on a lamp stand,” as we read in today’s gospel . It was a time for laying low, “staying away from our assembly.”
Faith has to be professed in season and out of season. It’s never to be hid under a bushel.
Mark’s gospel today describes the arrival of Mary his mother and some of his relatives from Nazareth. (Mark 3: 32-35) They’re outside a house crowded with people gathered around Jesus, some looking to be cured, some to listen to what he has to say. Jesus and his disciples don’t even have time to eat, Mark says.
His family come because they want to take him home; some think he is out of his mind . (Mark 3:20-21) When people tell him ‘Your mother and your brothers and your sisters are outside asking for you.’ Jesus said to them in reply, ‘Who are my mother and my brothers?’ And looking around at those seated in the circle he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.’” (Mark 3: 32-35)
Jesus sees people of faith as his family, his mother, brother and sister. He considers us who believe in him his family.
But we continue to ask: Why does his own family think he is out of his mind?
His mother Mary is with them. What does she think?
The gospels, Matthew 13:54-58, Mark 6: 1-6, Luke 4:16-30 all point to Nazareth as a place where Jesus is rejected. Luke’s gospel sees the rejection of Jesus at Nazareth in the harshest terms. They are ready to hurl him from the hill after the claims he makes in their synagogue. His visit to Nazareth is headed for violence, but a violence postponed, and no one takes his part. ( Luke 4:16-36 )
Mary lived there. What was it like for her? What was it like to be with family members who thought her son was mad? What was it like to be day after day with people who didn’t believe in her son? No one from Nazareth is among the 12 disciples Jesus chooses. The rejection of Jesus by the people of his own town, his own family and relatives, was a sword that pierced her heart.
We might say Mary’s faith was strong and kept her secure, but was it a faith that knew everything? Did it save her from questioning?
I wonder if we can see Mary’s appearance at Lourdes and Fatima in some way related to her own experience at Nazareth. She appears in places when the faith of ordinary people is severely challenged by a world increasingly hostile to belief.
She knows how to believe when everyone else does not. We welcome her today to be with us.
The Book of Revelation has an important place in the church’s evening prayer. A selection occurs every Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday evening through the four week cycle of the Liturgy of the Hours. It’s the last prayer of the evening.
The selections are not grim passages about battles fought against Babylon and the enemies of God, but rather invitations to share in the heavenly triumph of Christ. They bring us before God’s throne and the Lamb who was slain to offer praise with all the saints who have gone before us. From this world, which can be so small and constricted, so frightening and dangerous, where we can become so self-absorbed and unsure, we come into the welcoming presence of God, who calms the fear of darkness and death.
O Lord our God, you are worthy to receive glory and honor and power. For you have created all things; by your will they came to be and were made. Worthy are you, O Lord to receive the scroll and break open its seals. For you were slain; with your blood you purchased for God men of every race and tongue, of every people and nation. You made them a kingdom, and priests to serve our God, and they shall reign on earth. Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power and riches, wisdom and strength, honor and glory and praise. Glory to the Father and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit:as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be for ever. Amen. ( Tuesday Evening)
At the end of the day, we visit heaven; we go into the night listening to the songs sung there. Prayers from Revelation offer the promise of future life.
“Amen, I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all the other contributors to the treasury. For they have all contributed from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has contributed all she had, her whole livelihood.” Today’s gospel image of the generous widow emphasizes the attitude of biblical stewardship that is not based on surplus but on sacrifice. Most of us live this kind of stewardship. We call our offertory collection a “sacrificial offering.” Biblical stewardship goes far beyond the material because something behind that spirit of giving comes from having values, namely the values of sharing, support, and trust. Sharing is not a programmatic gift. It comes from seeing our parents and grandparents sharing a home, their love, shelter, food, and themselves with us so we could grow into generous human beings. Jesus is not advocating financial irresponsibility; he is asking for the freedom to give out of love, not out of calculation.
The early Church put a great emphasis on the care of widows and orphans. It wasn’t a safety net that gave the widow in today’s gospel the strength to give, it was the church that she knew as a family that cared with compassion for those who were in the greatest need.
I remember when I was in Jamaica, West Indies, we had a group from a parish in Pennsylvania visiting. We went to see a woman in a very rural area. She told us that some of her crops from her small plot of vegetables were stolen. We spent an hour with her and as we were leaving, she handed us a bag of beans from her garden. The visiting pastor was speechless and immediately protested knowing her garden was depleted because of a theft. But she smiled, “Father, you cannot come to my home and not receive a gift to take back to your home.” He took the beans and was shocked but said, “I just met the widow from the gospel.” He witnessed the living gospel.
May our eyes be open to those generous hearts who renew our hope in the way God provides and never tires of giving himself to us in his Son whose sacrifice is the ultimate act of generosity.
It’s good to be reminded in these days following our contentious election on Tuesday that “ our citizenship is in heaven.” Paul tells that to the Philippians in today’s reading, but we should hear it too.
But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we also await a savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. He will change our lowly body to conform with his glorified Body by the power that enables him also to bring all things into subjection to himself.
Therefore, my brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, in this way stand firm in the Lord, beloved.
We ‘re citizens of heaven; we belong somewhere else. We’re temporary, not permanent residents here. In that place “ the Lord Jesus Christ will change our lowly bodies to conform to his glorified Body by the power that enables him also to bring all things into subjection to himself.” (Philippians 3:17-4:1)
The responsorial psalm today tells us that even now we’re standing within the gates of a heavenly Jerusalem, the destiny of the tribes of the Lord. Our destiny.
St. Augustine wrote “The City of God” as barbarian armies sacked Rome and were invading North Africa. The world is coming to an end, some were saying, and they blamed Christianity for the critical times. But God is at work beyond human time and events, Augustine wrote.
Go rejoicing to the city of God and the house of the Lord, we hear today. There is something beyond the politics of today at work.
It’s so easy to see a world out of control these days, and to believe that nothing can be done. We’re going nowhere.
The Letter to the Ephesians, read this week at Mass, says that’s not so. It’s written, not just to the church at Ephesus, but to other churches as well, commentators says. So it’s written to our church too.
A great plan of God is at work from “the foundation of the world,” a plan for the “fulness of time,” a “mystery made known to us” in Christ Jesus, our Lord. We have this “word of truth” this gospel of our salvation, from Jesus himself. The Spirit he promised is the “first installment of our inheritance.”“First installment,” That’s what we working with now, It may not seem like much but it gets us where we’re going.
It promises more than we think or expect. “May the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation resulting in knowledge of him. May the eyes of [your] hearts be enlightened, that you may know what is the hope that belongs to his call, what are the riches of glory in his inheritance among the holy ones, and what is the surpassing greatness of his power for us who believe, in accord with the exercise of his great might, which he worked in Christ, raising him from the dead and seating him at his right hand in the heavens, (Ephesians 1)
Every Monday of the four week cycle of the Liturgy of the Hours we read Ephesians 1, 3-10 at evening prayer, a reminder to see the day, however small and confusing it may be, as part of the great unfolding plan of God in Christ, our Lord.
Paul, an Apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, to the holy ones who are in Ephesus and faithful in Christ Jesus: grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavens, as he chose us in him, before the foundation of the world, to be holy and without blemish before him. In love he destined us for adoption to himself through Jesus Christ, in accord with the favor of his will, for the praise of the glory of his grace that he granted us in the beloved.
In Christ we have redemption by his Blood, the forgiveness of transgressions, in accord with the riches of his grace that he lavished upon us. In all wisdom and insight, he has made known to us the mystery of his will in accord with his favor that he set forth in him as a plan for the fullness of times, to sum up all things in Christ, in heaven and on earth.
As the Synod on Synodality proceeds in Rome, we can all participate as the listening Church, the Bride of Christ, sitting at Jesus’ feet like Mary of Bethany (Luke 10:38). Enveloped in his peace, we can attune our hearts and minds to the Spirit of truth sent to us from the Father by the Son (John 15:26).
In a world of distracting noise, the Lord invites us to listen to his voice in Sacred Scripture, the Holy Mass, the Liturgy of the Hours, and personal prayer. Heard in the silence of the Spirit, the ancient words resonating from centuries past speak to the present generation with striking relevance. May the Lord grant us “ears to hear” his voice amid the din of the latest buzz (Matthew 11:14).
In a recent passage from the Office of Readings (October 11, 2024), St. Vincent of Lerins, a fifth-century French monk, seemed to jump out of the pages to address the Synod in Rome during its second week. In his vision, the organism of the Church grows and matures like a child to an adult, but preserves her essential form. Human skeletal structure, facial features, limbs, and organs develop with maturity but do not evolve into another species. The Body of Christ, the Church, in its heavenward journey also grows in the Holy Spirit into the perfect image of the Incarnate Son of God and not a distortion (2 Corinthians 3:18). May the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of the Church, guide her sons and daughters in the Spirit to her Son, who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.
From the first instruction by Saint Vincent of Lerins, priest
The development of doctrine
Is there to be no development of religion in the Church of Christ? Certainly, there is to be development and on the largest scale.
Who can be so grudging to men, so full of hate for God, as to try to prevent it? But it must truly be development of the faith, not alteration of the faith. Development means that each thing expands to be itself, while alteration means that a thing is changed from one thing into another.
The understanding, knowledge and wisdom of one and all, of individuals as well as of the whole Church, ought then to make great and vigorous progress with the passing of the ages and the centuries, but only along its own line of development, that is, with the same doctrine, the same meaning and the same import.
The religion of souls should follow the law of development of bodies. Though bodies develop and unfold their component parts with the passing of the years, they always remain what they were. There is a great difference between the flower of childhood and the maturity of age, but those who become old are the very same people who were once young. Though the condition and appearance of one and the same individual may change, it is one and the same nature, one and the same person.
The tiny members of unweaned children and the grown members of young men are still the same members. Men have the same number of limbs as children. Whatever develops at a later age was already present in seminal form; there is nothing new in old age that was not already latent in childhood.
There is no doubt, then, that the legitimate and correct rule of development, the established and wonderful order of growth, is this: in older people the fullness of years always brings to completion those members and forms that the wisdom of the Creator fashioned beforehand in their earlier years.
If, however, the human form were to turn into some shape that did not belong to its own nature, or even if something were added to the sum of its members or subtracted from it, the whole body would necessarily perish or become grotesque or at least be enfeebled. In the same way, the doctrine of the Christian religion should properly follow these laws of development, that is, by becoming firmer over the years, more ample in the course of time, more exalted as it advances in age.
In ancient times our ancestors sowed the good seed in the harvest field of the Church. It would be very wrong and unfitting if we, their descendants, were to reap, not the genuine wheat of truth but the intrusive growth of error.
On the contrary, what is right and fitting is this: there should be no inconsistency between first and last, but we should reap true doctrine from the growth of true teaching, so that when, in the course of time, those first sowings yield an increase it may flourish and be tended in our day also.
Reference
The passage from St. Vincent of Lerins can be found in the Office of Readings for Friday of the 27th Week in Ordinary Time.
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.”
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