Today our reading from Acts of the Apostles recalls an historic conversion.
“Saul, still breathing murderous threats against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest and asked him for letters to the synagogues in Damascus, that, if he should find any men or women who belonged to the Way, he might bring them back to Jerusalem in chains. On his journey, as he was nearing Damascus, a light from the sky suddenly flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” He said, “Who are you, sir?” The reply came, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. Now get up and go into the city and you will be told what you must do.” (Acts 9)
The statue of Paul at the entrance to the ancient church of St. Paul Outside the Walls in Rome is one of my favorites. Paul’s portrayed as an old man, clothed in a heavy traveler’s cloak, bent and tired from coming a long way. He holds a great sword firmly in hand, but he’s not a military man. It’s the sword of faith he’s holding, a symbol of the faith that won hearts and banished darkness.
He has “fought the good fight” and “kept the faith;” his earthly journey’s ended. Pictures on the church doors recall his final hours, when Paul died decapitated by an executioner’s sword not far from this spot, after a period of imprisonment in Rome.
Did he review his own life then? I’m sure Paul wondered at the mystery of it all, especially the time a blinding light threw him from his horse on the way to Damascus, and then those hard journeys to towns and cities where he labored hard to bring faith in Jesus to so many. I don’t think he spent much time fighting old battles, though. Like those he had with the rival teachers who invaded his turf in Corinth.
When it’s all said and done, it’s not our judgment that counts at the end. It’s God’s judgment that counts.
Looking higher up on the façade of that great church that bears the apostle’s remains, we can see Paul the Apostle, pictured in the light of glory, his traveling days done. With Peter, a fellow disciple, he sits at the feet of Jesus Christ, the Risen Lord whom he loved so much. “Who are you, Lord?” Paul once cried, thrown to the ground. Now he knows, granted the grace, unmerited like all others, to see Jesus face to face.
I discovered on Google books an old study of plants and trees by Richard Folkard, an English botanist. (Plant Lore, Legends and Lyrics, London 1884) It’s a treasure of information.
Folkard says that from earliest times people saw religious meaning in plants, flowers and trees. He writes especially about how they were seen in medieval times.
“In the dark ages the Catholic monks , who cultivated with assiduity all sorts of herbs and flowers in their monastic gardens , came in time to associate them with traditions of the Church , and to look upon them as emblems of particular saints . Aware , also , of the innate love of humanity for flowers , they selected the most popular as symbols of the Church festivals , and in time every flower became connected with some saint of the Calendar , either from flowering at the time of the saint’s day , or from being connected with the saint in some old legend…
But it was more especially upon the Virgin Mary that the early Church bestowed their floral symbolism … The poetry no less than the piety of Europe has inscribed to her the whole bloom and colouring of the fields and hedges. The choicest flowers were wrested from the classic Juno , Venus , and Diana , and from the Scandinavian Bertha and Freyja , and bestowed upon the Madonna , whilst floral offerings of every sort were laid upon her shrines .
Her husband , Joseph , has allotted to him a white Campanula , which in Bologna is known as the little Staff of St. Joseph . In Tuscany the name of St. Joseph’s staff is given to the Oleander. A legend recounts that the good Joseph possessed originally only an ordinary staff , but that when the angel announced to him that he was destined to be the husband of the Virgin Mary , he became so radiant with joy , that his very staff flowered in his hand…
A Catholic writer complained that at the Reformation the very names of plants were changed in order to divert men’s minds from the least recollection of ancient Christian piety A Protestant writer of the last century , bewailing the ruthless action of the Puritans in giving to the ” Queen of Beauty ” flowers named after the ” Queen of Heaven , ” says :’Botany , which in ancient times was full of the Blessed Virgin Mary , is now as full of the heathen Venus .’ ”
Folkard reminds us that the monks were good catechists. That work of theirs is largely ignored today. If you consult Wikipedia’s listings of trees and plants, there’s hardly a trace of that Catholic tradition. I wonder if we shouldn’t mine that tradition again as we try to enhance our care of the earth. Clover .spearmint, foxglove, lupine, campanula, marigolds, cowslip, Lady’s mantel, Lady’s bedstraw are more than a genus and species. They once spoke of the mysteries of God.
We began reading from the 6th chapter of Luke’s Acts of Apostles last Saturday, which describes a social problem that never disappears. Some newcomers to Christianity are being treated unfairly. “As the number of disciples continued to grow, the Hellenists complained against the Hebrews because their widows were being neglected in the daily distribution.”( Acts 6:1)
If we substitute “Immigrants” for “Hellenists” a more familiar situation emerges in this story. New-comers are not treated fairly in this story. Probably the poorer song them especially.
The “Hebrews” were the first followers of Jesus, mostly Jews from Galilee. They’re Jewish Christians at home in the Jewish world; they fit into the religious and political Judaism of the time in spite of the friction that came from following Jesus of Nazareth.
They’re the establishment.
In every age immigrants, once they gain a little footing in their new home tend to speak out for their needs. The Hellenists, led by Stephen, began to speak out. Stephen’s fiery words seem to be only about religious matters, but he’s also criticizing the closed world of Judaism.
Is it also the closed world of early Jewish Christianity as well?
Stephen’s criticism cost him his life and initiated the Jewish reaction that led to the expulsion of many of the Christian Hellenists. They become immigrants again but, as Luke notes, they bring the gospel to new peoples.
How did Christianity spread early on? Certainly not to the apostles and genius of Paul alone. The Acts of the Apostles this week reminds us there were others, like the deacon Philip, who brought the gospel to Samaria. (Wednesday)
Then, there’s the Ethiopian official Philip baptizes. He surely brought the gospel to Africa. (Thursday) There were many others, not just apostles, but immigrants like Stephen, who fulfilled a divine plan they hardly understood.
We are in the midst of an age of massive immigration, due to wars, climate change, religious discrimination and other issues. We tend to see these issues only in social or political terms.
This week’s readings from Luke remind us there’s more. God’s plan is also being fulfilled in many other ways.
The Cross flowers at Easter time. There’s a flowering cross brimming with life in the great apse of the church of San Clemente in Rome. Its branches swirl with the gifts God gives. It brings life, not death. Humanity is there, signified in Mary and the disciple John. We are there in the doves resting on it. Creation itself is there, drawing new life from it. The hand of God makes it so.
The sacraments offered in this sacred place bring life-giving graces to us.
An early preacher Theodore the Studite praises the mystery of the cross:.
“How precious the gift of the cross, how splendid to contemplate! In the cross there is no mingling of good and evil, as in the tree of paradise: it is wholly beautiful to behold and good to taste. The fruit of this tree is not death but life, not darkness but light. This tree does not cast us out of paradise, but opens the way for our return.
“This was the tree on which Christ, like a king on a chariot, destroyed the devil, the Lord of death, and freed the human race from his tyranny. This was the tree upon which the Lord, like a brave warrior wounded in his hands, feet and side, healed the wounds of sin that the evil serpent had inflicted on our nature. A tree once caused our death, but now a tree brings life. Once deceived by a tree, we have now repelled the cunning serpent by a tree.
“What an astonishing transformation! That death should become life, that decay should become immortality, that shame should become glory! Well might the holy Apostle exclaim: Far be it from me to glory except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world!”
San Clemente, Rome
See Children’s Prayers here for a children’s version of the Easter Tree.
The candles at Tenebrae lead to another reflection. The 15 candles stand for Jesus, his twelve apostles and the two disciples from Emmaus. As 14 candles are extinquished, we remember those who left him on Good Friday and fled.
Mary, the mother of Jesus, is not represented in the Tenebrae candles. She never left her Son. She stood by his cross on Good Friday and buried him in the garden.
Where did she go after his death and burial on Good Friday? Likely to Bethany, along with the other women from Galilee who came up with him for the feast. Likely, she was welcomed by the friends of Jesus, Mary, Martha and Lazarus. Did Lazarus, raised from the dead, offer her hope? Still, his death was so unlike that of her Son.
Would Mary have the same questions of God as Martha had of Jesus? Why? This was a day the piercing sword foretold by Simeon the temple struck most deeply into her heart. This was a day her faith was so fiercely tried.
In our calendars, Saturday is a day we remember Mary. We remember her today and ask her to pray that we may believe in the promises of Christ.
At the cross her station keeping, stood the mournful mother weeping, close to Jesus till the last.
Readings Those listening to Jesus in the temple area claim to be “descendants of Abraham.” (John 8,31-42) They’re children of Abraham. They have a splendid temple to worship in and ancient traditions to live by, and so they ask: “ Why should we listen to this man? We have Abraham.”
But “If you were the children of Abraham you would be doing the works of Abraham,” Jesus says. Abraham was a nomad who found God’s promises revealed from place to place. He discovered God’s plan in time. So must we.
John’s gospel was written well after the temple and Jerusalem itself were destroyed by the Romans in 70 AD. Jews and Jewish Christians at this time, “descendants of Abraham”, were in a time of radical transition. Many may have longed for the restoration of ancient structures now gone and the surety they found in them.
Jesus reminds them, and us, that Abraham, “our father in faith,” ventured on paths unknown.
Does their time sound like ours ? We’re called to have Abraham’s faith, a mystic faith. In our first reading today from the Book of Daniel three children thrown into the fiery furnace in Babylon, their land of exile, sing in the flames. They have Abraham’s faith.
Is God telling us to do that today? Sing in the flames and God will lead us on to the beautiful unknown.
Two centuries ago, St. Paul of the Cross urged those who sought his advice to hold on to the Unchanging One we meet “in spirit and truth.” God will be our guide..
“Jesus will teach you. I don’t want you to indulge in vain imagery over this. Freely take flight and rest in the Supreme Good, in God’s consuming fire. Rest in God’s divine perfections, especially in the Infinite Goodness which made itself so small within our humanity.” (Letter 18)
O God, you are my God,
For you I long.
My body pines for you,
Like a dry, weary land without water. (Ps 63)
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?
Dear brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!
Continuing in our reflection on the Dogmatic Constitution Lumen gentium (LG), today we will look at the second chapter, dedicated to the People of God.
God, who created the world and humanity, and who wishes to save every man, carries out his work of salvation in history, choosing a real people and dwelling among them. For this reason, He calls Abraham and promises him descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and the sand on the seashore (cf. Gen 22:17-18). With Abraham’s children, after freeing them from slavery, God makes a covenant with them, accompanies them, cares for them, and gathers them together whenever they stray. Therefore, the identity of this people is given by God’s action and by faith in Him. They are called to become a light for other nations, like a beacon that will draw all peoples, the whole of humanity, to itself (cf. Is 2:1-5).
The Council affirms that “All these things, however, were done by way of preparation and as a figure of that new and perfect covenant, which was to be ratified in Christ, and of that fuller revelation which was to be given through the Word of God Himself made flesh” ( LG, 9). Indeed, it is Christ who, in giving His Body and His Blood, unites this people in Himself and in a definitive way. It is a people now made up of members of every nation; it is united by faith in Him, by adherence to Him, by living the same life as Him, animated by the Spirit of the Risen One. This is the Church: the people of God who draw their existence from the body of Christ [1] and who are themselves the body of Christ; [2] not a people like any other, but the People of God, called together by Him and made up of women and men from all the peoples of the earth. Its unifying principle is not a language, a culture, an ethnicity, but faith in Christ: the Church is therefore – according to a splendid expression of the Council – the assembly of “all those who in faith look upon Jesus” ( LG, 9).
It is a messianic people, precisely because it has Christ, the Messiah, as its head. Those who belong to it do not pride themselves on merits or titles, but only on the gift of being, in Christ and through Him, daughters and sons of God. Above any task or function, therefore, what really matters in the Church is to be grafted onto Christ, to be children of God by grace. This is also the only honorary title we should seek as Christians. We are in the Church in order to receive life from the Father unceasingly and to live as His children and brothers and sisters among ourselves. Consequently, the law that animates relationships in the Church is love, as we receive and experience it in Jesus; and her goal is the Kingdom of God, towards which she walks together with all humanity.
Unified in Christ, Lord and Saviour of every man and woman, the Church can never turn inwards on herself, but is open to everyone and is for everyone. If believers in Christ belong to it, the Council reminds us that “All men are called to belong to the new people of God. Wherefore this people, remaining one and unique, must extend to the whole world and to all ages, so that the intention of God’s will may be fulfilled, who in the beginning created human nature as one and wants to gather together his children who were scattered” (LG, 13). Even those who have not yet received the Gospel are therefore, in some way, oriented towards the people of God, and the Church, cooperating in Christ’s mission, is called upon to spread the Gospel everywhere and to everyone (cf. LG 17), so that every person may enter into contact with Christ. This means that in the Church there is, and there must be, a place for everyone, and that every Christian is called to proclaim the Gospel and bear witness in every environment in which he or she lives and works. Thus, this people shows its catholicity, welcoming the wealth and resources of different cultures and, at the same time, offering them the newness of the Gospel to purify them and to raise them up (cf. LG, 13).
In this regard, the Church is one but includes everyone. A great theologian described it thus: “The unique Ark of Salvation must welcome all human diversity into its vast nave. The only banquet hall, the food it distributes is drawn from all of creation. The seamless garment of Christ, it is also – and it is the same thing – the garment of Joseph, with its many colours”. [3]
It is a great sign of hope – especially in our times, traversed by so many conflicts and wars – to know that the Church is a people in which women and men of different nationalities, languages and cultures live together in faith: it is a sign placed in the very heart of humanity, a reminder and prophecy of that unity and peace to which God the Father calls all his children.
This 3rd week of Lent is an important week for people entering our church and participating in its sacraments. It’s a school for catechumens seeking Baptism; others are receiving sacraments. Three readings this week are especially important: the story of the Samaritan woman, the story of Naaman the Syrian, and then, Luke’s account of Jesus visit to Nazareth.
The Samaritan woman, who meets Jesus at Jacob’s well, is an important teacher for those approaching the church and its sacraments. It’s a story so important that the liturgy recommends this gospel be read in place of another gospel this week, if it’s not read on Sunday.
Like the Samaritan woman, we are people of our own time and place, with our prejudices and deep desires. Like her, Jesus leads us gradually to a new understanding of who we are and what we are called to be. Like her, he promises us living water.
What does “living water” mean? Baptize in living waters, the early baptismal rituals say. They forbid baptism in stagnant water. Why? Stagnant water goes nowhere. Living water brings us to all life, to all creation, to a greater life. It’s not a water that restricts; this water makes us grow.
For the Jews the Jordan River was living water. Entering the Jordan at his baptism Jesus empowered it with new life. His Spirit entered the waters. Just as water once flowed out in four rivers over the whole world – according to the Book of Genesis – the waters of the Jordan flowed out over the world after Jesus was baptized.
Monday’s reading recalls Naaman the Syrian. Like the Samaritan woman, he was not a Jew. He came somewhat skeptically to the waters of the Jordan to be cleansed of his leprosy. Not only was he cleansed of leprosy, but he came to new knowledge: “Now I know that there is no God in all the earth, except in Israel.” Like the Samaritan woman, Naaman received the gift of faith.
The stories of Naaman and the Samaritan woman are great stories for reflecting on the mystery of the church, baptism and the sacraments.
Why do we catechize and baptize people entering the church and her sacramental life during Lent? Because Lent leads to the mystery of the death and resurrection of Jesus. Living water came from his side at his death. Blood and water from his side gave life to the Church and her sacraments.
During this third week of Lent, the gospel of the rejection of Jesus at Nazareth is also read. (Monday) The story is important because it presents “the scandal of the Incarnation.” Jesus was rejected at Nazareth as the carpenter, Mary’s son. Those who enter the church and participate in her sacraments will face a similar “ scandal of the Incarnation.”
The church is a complex reality, Pope Leo said in a recent address, it is a reality of saints and sinners. We have to live in that reality.
Jesus enjoined them, “Watch out, guard against the leaven of the Pharisees and the leaven of Herod. … Do you not yet understand or comprehend? Are your hearts hardened?… Do you have eyes and not see, ears and not hear? Do you still not understand?”
(Mark 8:14-21)
Harsh words of Jesus to his disciples. They occur, not early in Mark’s Gospel, but as they prepare to go up to Jerusalem, after many miracles Jesus has done and many times he has taught. Yet they do not understand.
Is this still true for his disciples today? Mark’s Gospel reminds us how much, like them, we don’t know.
How should we guard against the leaven of the Pharisees and the leaven of Herod? I suppose that means the corruption that can take place in religion and in politics. We live in an imperfect world.
If Mark is writing in Rome –and I think he is– he would have to be careful about criticizing the government, especially in the wake of Nero’s persecution. Mark writes more of the scribes and pharisees who oppose Jesus. He speaks less about Herod; he has to be discreet.
So every time I hear about Herod and the Herodians in Mark’s Gospel I hear him talking about Nero and Rome’s rulers. His description of John the Baptist’s death and the absurd circumstances that brought it on– Herodias’ vindictiveness, Herod’s care for his reputation, the cowardly compliance of his court– are not limited to that event from the time of Jesus. Mark is alluding to Nero’s cruel attack on the Christians of Rome who, like John, were innocent.
When he tells the story of the passion of Jesus Mark is also telling the Christians of Rome their story. Jesus was there with them. Jesus is there with them.
Let’s not stop at the early Christians of Rome, however. He’s also talking to us in our world.
The Victor's Place 