Tag Archives: Jesus Christ

Bread and Wine

After the homily at every Sunday Mass, we pray the Creed, that sweeping summary of what we believe as Christians.  We say it before we bring the bread and wine to the altar because it helps us understand what we’re doing. It begins:

We believe in God the Father Almighty,

creator of heaven and earth,

of all that is seen and unseen.

Bread and wine are symbols of the heavens and the earth– the world God has made. They represent the totality of God’s gifts found in creation which we acknowledge as we bring them to their Creator:

“Blessed are you, Lord God of all creation, through your goodness we have this bread to offer, which earth has given and human hands have made. It will become for us the bread of life.” “Blessed are you, Lord God of all creation, through your goodness we have this wine to offer, fruit of the vine and work of many hands, it will become our spiritual drink.”

These simple gifts stand for all the gifts that come from an almighty God, a kind Father, the generous One who made the heavens and earth, the Maker “of all that is seen and unseen.” They point to a God, beyond our minds grasp, a good God, who is with us always; a loving God who is our friend.

They  represent God’s promise of life everlasting.

The prayers at Mass address God, the Creator. “All life, all holiness comes from you,” (3rd Eucharistic Prayer) “All things are of your making, all times and seasons obey your laws,” (P33) “In you we live and move and have our being. Each day you show us a Father’s love.(P34)

At Mass we approach God, Maker of all.

As Creator, God doesn’t act alone, but shares power with his creation. Our prayers at Mass recognize that: “You formed us in your own likeness, and set us over the whole world in all its wonder. You made us the stewards of creation to serve you our creator and to rule over all creatures.” (P33)

As “stewards of creation” we have an important role in the world, but we’re not the only power in our universe.  Creation itself has rights and a role in God’s plan. As we come to know the story of our own universe, we’re amazed at its mysterious development, its complexity and its beauty. It’s charged with the glory of God, and so for all our importance, we’re  meant to be respectful participants in its story.

That’s the vision of faith our Mass offers. But is it true? Our experience of life can sometimes tempt us to doubt it. Is God really the creator of us all? Does God really care? Why do bad things happen? Why do people do what they do? Why do we die? Why is there suffering? Why is there injustice. Questions like that raise doubts. Then too, preoccupation with ourselves also can weaken our vision of faith. We think we are the creators of the world and its gods.

The Mass tells the story of creation, but also the story of salvation. The Creed reminds us that God sent his only Son to be our Savior. In the mystery of the Mass, Jesus Christ is sent into the world. He comes into the bread and wine, just as he came into the womb of Mary.  Listen to the words of one of our prayers.

“Father, you so loved the world,

that in the fullness of time you sent your only Son to be our Savior.

He was conceived through the Holy Spirit,

and born of the Virgin Mary,

one like us in all things but sin.

To the poor he proclaimed the good news of salvation,

to prisoners, freedom,

to those in sorrow, joy.

In fulfillment of your will

he gave himself up to death,

but by rising from the dead,

he destroyed death and restored life.

And that we might live no longer for ourselves but for him,

he sent the Holy Spirit from you, Father,

as his first gift to those who believe,

to complete his work on earth

and bring us the fulness of grace.”

The prayer goes on to ask God, the Father, to send his Holy Spirit upon the bread and the wine, as he did on Mary.

“Father, send your Holy Spirit to sanctify these offerings,

Let them become the body and blood of Jesus Christ our Lord

as we celebrate the great mystery

which he left us as an everlasting covenant.” (4th Eucharistic Prayer)

Our Mass is a creation story and a story of salvation.

Being Apostles

It may be a good thing that we know so little about the apostles of Jesus. The gospels say very little about them, who they were or where they went or what they did. On the other hand, knowing little about them makes us reflect more on their mission–they were apostles.

We certainly don’t know much about Simon and Jude, whose feast we celebrate today. Cyril of Alexandria, in today’s Office of Readings, speaks about the mission of the apostle which we share in, as members of an apostolic church.

The apostle follows Jesus. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” Jesus says in the Gospel of John. “Once he said: I have come to call not the righteous but sinners to repentance,” Cyril says. “And then at another time he said: I have come down from heaven, not to do my own will, but the will of him who sent me. For God sent his Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him.”

Like the apostles, we are not just created to exist here on earth, we are sent. We have a mission. We are not just to take from this world, we are to give. Jesus told his apostles ” to heal those who were sick whether in body or spirit, to seek in all their dealings never to do their own will but the will of him who sent them, and as far as possible to save the world by their teaching.”

That’s what he tells us to do too, as his followers.

Praying the Lord’s Prayer

You wont find any prayer in scripture that isn’t found in some way

in the Lord’s Prayer, St. Augustine writes to Proba, a woman looking

for advice about how to pray.

The words of prayer are teachers of prayer, a school of prayer,

and no prayer is more important than the Our Father

for leading us into union with God.

“Teach us to pray,” the disciples of Jesus ask him and gave them

this prayer as their norm.

It’s a norm, Augustine tells Proba, ” So when we pray we are

free to use different words to any extent, but we must ask the

same things: in this we have no choice.”

The saint is recommending a meditative way of praying the Our Father,

a prayer that easily becomes one we say by rote.

Sometimes it’s good to leave long prayers for a simple rest in this one.

http://www.cptryon.org/prayer/teach.html

The Prayer of Abel

“Look with favor on these offerings and accept them as you once accepted the gifts of your servant Abel.” (1st Eucharistic Prayer)

In a homily, St. Ambrose explains why God accepted Abel’s gifts and not Cain’s. His gifts were a prayer from his heart.

He brought them to God prompted by the same gratitude that caused the Samaritan to give thanks to Jesus after being cured of leprosy. Gratitude is always at the heart of the Eucharist.

Abel’s gifts were the result of true prayer, according to Ambrose, who summarizes what true prayer is: “Jesus told us to pray urgently and often, so that our prayers should not be long and tedious but short, earnest and frequent. Long elaborate prayers overflow with pointless phrases, and long gaps between prayers eventually stretch out into complete neglect.

Next he advises that when you ask forgiveness for yourself then you must take special care to grant it also to others. In that way your action can add its voice to yours as you pray. The apostle also teaches that when you pray you must be free from anger and from disagreement with anyone, so that your prayer is not disturbed or broken into.

The apostle teaches us to pray anywhere, while the Saviour says Go into your room – but you must understand that this “room” is not the room with four walls that confines your body when you are in it, but the secret space within you in which your thoughts are enclosed and where your sensations arrive. That is your prayer-room, always with you wherever you are, always secret wherever you are, with your only witness being God.

Above all, you must pray for the whole people: that is, for the whole body, for every part of your mother the Church, whose distinguishing feature is mutual love. If you ask for something for yourself then you will be praying for yourself only – and you must remember that more grace comes to one who prays for others than to any ordinary sinner. If each person prays for all people, then all people are effectively praying for each.

In conclusion, if you ask for something for yourself alone, you will be the only one asking for it; but if you ask for benefits for all, all in their turn will be asking for them for you. For you are in fact one of the “all.” Thus it is a great reward, as each person’s prayers acquire the weight of the prayers of everyone. There is nothing presumptuous about thinking like this: on the contrary, it is a sign of greater humility and more abundant fruitfulness.”

Learning like children, part 2

Sometimes you hear that religious formation is nice, but other things are too. It’s  more important that kids take ballet lessons or learn to play soccer. There’s not time for everything.

Think about that. What’s one of the most important issues of our day? I think health care might be one of them. Where do children learn about health care, an issue that will affect them all their lives?

From parents? In a social studies class in school? From a talk show on the radio or television?

I think our own religious tradition has a lot to say on this matter. Look at Jesus. The gospel says clearly that he reached out to those in need, and taught his followers to do the same. It was one of the most important lessons he taught. He cured the sick and sent them home again. The gospels we hear every Sunday tell stories again and again of his concern for those in need.

We don’t have to go back to the times of the bible, however, to see his teaching.  Look at the strong tradition our church in this country has in health care. There are over 2,000 Catholic health systems, facilities and related organizations in the United States now.  Almost 13% of the hospitals in the United States are sponsored by the Catholic Church.

It was especially for the needs of the poor that so many of them were begun. Think of great Catholic figures who founded these hospitals and charitable works. Mother Cabrini, for example, an Italian immigrant woman who came to this country in 1889 and by the time of her death in 1917 had founded 67 institutions for the poor, among them a number of hospitals.

They say that when she went to visit a bishop looking for money in one of the many cities where she wanted to founded a hospital,  the bishop said to her, “Mother, what am I going to tell the bankers.” She said to him, “You talk to the bankers, I’ll talk to God.”

I think our children should learn about health care from Jesus Christ, from Mother Cabrini, from Mother Teresa rather than from some loud-mouth on the radio. They need to learn about this more than they do ballet or soccer.

The Mystery of the Cross

Mark’s gospel (Mk 8, 27-35) describes a journey that Jesus and his disciples made from the town  of Capernaum on the Sea of Galilee– an area predominantly Jewish– to the villages of Caesarea Phillipi, about 25 miles to the north.

The town of Caesarea Phillipi and its surroundings stood at the foot of Mount Hermon where many of the sources of water for the Jordan River and the Sea of Galilee were located. In Jesus’ time it was also a gentile region where Roman and Greek gods were honored and, as its name indicates, Caesar and Roman power proclaimed.

As he often does, Jesus uses what’s at hand to teach. Here in a center of Roman power he asks, “Who do people say that I am?” His disciples name powerful Jewish figures:  John the Baptist, who stood up to King Herod, and Elijah, the fearless prophet who stood up to King Ahab and his notorius wife, Jezebel. Some compared Jesus to them.

However, Peter, speaking for the disciples, goes beyond these Jewish heros. “You are the Christ,” he says, more powerful than the prophets and certainly more powerful than the figures honored at Caesarea Philippi. Jesus is the Messiah come to lead Israel to its high place above the nations.

In response, Jesus tells him he is a suffering Messiah, who will be rejected by the leaders of his own people, will suffer death and rise again. The scriptures had announced a Messiah like this: “I gave my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who plucked my beard; my face I did not shield from buffets and spitting.” (Isaiah 50)

When Peter rejects this description of the Messiah and tells Jesus to abandon it, Jesus calls him “Satan,” someone who thinks like human beings and not like God.

We’re not far from Peter’s thinking, human beings that we are. The mystery of the cross is hard for us to accept, whether we see it in Jesus or in ourselves or in the unfolding events of our time.

We celebrate the triumph of the Cross tomorrow, September 14th.

Let’s Go To Mass

I have been working on some simple explanations of the Mass in video form and here’s the latest. You can get it on Vimeo; it’s based on the miracle of the loaves and the fish.

The first video in the series you can also find on Vimeo, same place.  I reworked it lately. That’s what you have to do: work and rework.

In the future I hope to do instructions on how you pray at Mass, where do the scriptural readings come from, the Mass and the Cross of Jesus, its history, and so on.

Who knows, maybe they will get done.

What’s Enough?

Schnorr_von_Carolsfeld_Bibel_in_Bildern_1860_193

Jesus’ miracle of the loaves and fishes, the subject of our gospel readings for the last two Sundays at Mass and next Sunday’s readings as well, has been on my mind these days.  The disciples’ complaints “We don’t have enough!” when they’re asked to feed the crowds echo the complaints of the Jews who journey through the desert from Egypt to the Promised Land. “We’re all dying of famine; at least in Egypt we had plenty to eat,” they say. (Ex. 16, 2-4)

The complaints aren’t only about food. They touch upon a deeper hunger for something beyond food and drink.

The psalms express that deeper hunger so beautifully. “Like the deer that yearns for running streams, so my soul is yearning for you, my God.”  “My soul is thirsting for the Lord, when shall I see him face to face.” The same sentiment is there in the wonderful words of St. Augustine: “Our hearts are restless, until they rest in you.”

Often, though, we’re looking for a more immediate god.

The flamboyant black evangelist “Rev. Ike,” who promised people they could get all the money they wanted through positive thinking, died July 28th in Los Angeles. “Close your eyes and see green,” he said, “Money up to your armpits, a roomful of money and there you are, just tossing around in it like a swimming pool.”

He wasn’t ready to wait. To the thousands crowding his United Church Science of Living Institute in Washington Heights, New York City, he would say:  “How many here gave a $100 in the collection? Stand up for a blessing. How many $50? Stand up and get blessed. How many $20, $10,  $5?  How many gave nothing? You get a special blessing. Bring me something next week.”

“Change makes your minister nervous in the service,” he would tell his congregation. His own high life style exemplified the “gospel” he preached.

We may smile, but his pitch isn’t far off from what appeals to us. In a softer version we’re told to look for the gifts all around us, maybe not just money, but friends, health, family, love and so on.

But what then?

The Feast of the Transfiguration we celebrate today has it right:

“Let us be caught up like Peter to behold the divine vision and to be transfigured by that glorious transfiguration. Let us retire from the world, stand aloof from the earth, rise above the body, detach ourselves from creatures and turn to the creator, to whom Peter in ecstasy exclaimed: Lord, it is good for us to be here.” (Anastatius of Sinai)

Mercy, divine and human

St. Caesarius of Arles has some thoughts on mercy in today’s readings:

There is earthly and heavenly mercy: that is, human and divine. What is human mercy? Exactly this: to have care for the sufferings of the poor. What is divine mercy? Without doubt, to grant forgiveness of sins.

Whatever human mercy gives away on the journey, divine mercy pays back when we arrive at last in our native land. For it is God who feels cold and hunger, in the person of the poor. As he himself has said: As much as you have done for the least of these, you have done it for me.

What God deigns to give on heaven, he yearns to receive on earth.

Loaves and Fish

Christ_feeding_the_multitude

The miracle of the loaves and the fish is one of the most important miracles in the New Testament. All four gospels recall it; Mark mentions it twice. The miracle takes place as a crowds follow Jesus into a desert place and he blesses them with nourishing bread and a meal of fish. They’ve come from their homes, from different towns–some a distance away; they’ve made an effort to see him. Now they’re  tired and hungry.

Some may have come just from curiosity or just followed someone else, but Jesus doesn’t  act to satisfy curiosity. People were hungry and needed food.

John says people came “because they saw the signs he was performing on the sick.” Some of them were sick or brought their sick with them.

Mark’s gospel says the miracle happened because, on seeing the crowd, Jesus’ heart went out to them. “He had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd, and so be began teaching them many things.” (Mark 6,34)

“Sheep without a shepherd.” They’re looking for direction, for meaning in their lives, for a sense of who they are and what they’re about. And Jesus offers them a shepherd’s care and a teacher’s wisdom.

But they’re hungry. We shouldn’t  forget the first reason Jesus gives the crowd bread and the fish. His gospel is practical; feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, care for those in need. And what he did, he tells those who follow him to do:  “What do you have, go and see?”

Let’s not forget the practical demands of this story. At the same time, we know that the hunger Jesus addresses is more than physical hunger. All of us are looking for  more than physical food; our hunger is also for the “true bread from heaven that gives life to the world.”

Unlike other miracles Jesus worked, the miracle in the desert benefits, not just one person, it benefits all.

And so, when we come to the Eucharist, we come together to a place where “the hand of the Lord feeds us; he answers all our needs.” (Psalm 145) We come to Jesus whose heart goes out to us.  Once again, he  takes bread and gives thanks. “This is my body,” he says. “Take and eat.”  This is the cup of my Blood,” he says. “Take and drink.”

And we are satisfied; we receive our Daily Bread. And from what we have, we give to others.