Claire Smith

Scripture:

Acts 2:36-41
John 20:11-18

Reflection:

In 2004, Oscar Solis was ordained an auxiliary bishop in the Archdiocese of Loss Angeles, the first Filipino-American bishop ordained in the United States.  Shortly thereafter, Bishop Solis accepted an invitation to have lunch with the leadership of my parish, St. Rita’s, in Sierra Madre, California. As it happened, I was seated next to him.  During our conversation, I noted what a great honor it is to be ordained the first Filipino American bishop in the United States.  I then asked him what kinds of qualifications are required to become a bishop.  Without hesitation, and with touching sincerity, he replied, “I wasn’t qualified.  But God does not call the qualified.  God qualifies the called.”

This episode brings to mind today’s gospel.  There is something similarly touching, even lovely, about Jesus making his first resurrection appearance to Mary Magdalene.  One would have expected Jesus to grant this honor to one of the disciples of his inner circle.  But no.  He picked Mary Magdalene.  “Go to my brothers,” Jesus said, and announce that I have risen. 

Jesus chose Mary Magdalene, even though her testimony would not be accepted because she was a woman, to make the greatest proclamation in the life of the church. 

This is the beauty evident throughout Scripture.  For some mysterious reason, God has a peculiar habit of choosing the unlikeliest of people to partner in his work.

• God chose Joseph to save God’s people from famine, even though he came from a family so dysfunctional that his brothers sold him into slavery.
• God chose Moses, a stutterer, and a murderer, to lead the Israelites out of Egyptian bondage.
• God chose Rahab, a Gentile prostitute, to aid the Israelites in conquering mighty Jericho.

The list goes on.  God has a habit of choosing broken, messy, sinful men and women to serve him.  And don’t forget the disciples, this ragtag bunch of feuding, uneducated, uninfluential, and hard-headed men.  Yet, Jesus called them – by name – to join him in his ministry.

Jesus called them by name.  In the same way, Jesus called Mary Magdalene by name.  And in that moment of grace, she recognized Jesus.  Since earliest times, the Eastern Church appropriately began calling Mary Magdalene the isapostolos, the one equal to the apostles, the apostle to the apostles, the first envoy, called to proclaim the resurrection.

Easter is the time when we are exhorted to join Mary Magdalene in the garden, and to encounter the Risen Jesus.  And by our baptism, Jesus calls us by name.  Despite our failings, our flaws, our faults, and our brokenness, we too are called to rise to new life and to testify to the Good News.

Admittedly, we are clearly, plainly, definitely, obviously, not qualified for such a ministry. 

That’s okay.  God will qualify us.

Deacon Manuel Valencia is on the staff at Mater Dolorosa Passionist Retreat Center, Sierra Madre, California.

Scripture:

Acts 2:14, 22-33
Matthew 28:8-15

Reflection:

My dad was a talented and competitive man. One downside: he always wanted to win the competition for the smartest and wisest person in the room, and I think he became incapable of admitting a mistake. He thought it made him weak, ineffective, and disrespected, so his goal was to always be “right”. Therefore, for most of my life, I’ve struggled with the well-learned lesson that being wrong or making mistakes was equivalent to being unlovable and rejected, a result that was worth avoiding at all costs.

Yet the inability to admit mistakes dug me deeper into trouble, resulting in the very thing I was desperate to avoid. When I tried to “explain” my mistakes or bend the truth so it didn’t seem so bad, others learned to discount what I said. When I tried proving I didn’t actually make a mistake, that the other person was the one who was wrong, I alienated people I wanted to attract. Every strategy I learned from my father made it harder to form close friendships or inspire trust.  

I’m always stretching in my ability to acknowledge failings and mistakes. I am human, made from dust, and still becoming who God created me to be. Inevitably, I will make mistakes and be wrong about things. That’s not a flaw; it’s a condition for my growth. So I humble myself, admit and even embrace my imperfection, learn everything I can from my mistakes, and thereby grow into the authentic person I am called to be.

Confronting this in myself serves to illuminate these attitudes and strategies all around me. So much of our political and religious discourse still centers on being “right.” We stop listening to anything contradictory to our chosen position because it could ultimately prove us “wrong”. And like the chief priests who were afraid to admit that Jesus was who he claimed to be or that he was raised from the dead, we have to lie, invent schemes and coverups (sometimes involving other people), or outright refuse to admit the truth. The pervasiveness of this attitude in our world and, yes, our church, is killing us. It does not generate trust, demonstrate authentic leadership, promote a just and stable society (or church), or bring the reign of God to this earth. Instead, it promotes and maintains the “reign” of those in power.

So, what can I do? As I continue working on myself, I also work to hold politicians, educators, and the Church I love to account. I am doing what I can to speak up with my voice, money, vote, and time. I am also engaging in respectful discussions with those who disagree with me. I do so not to convince them I’m “right”, but to honestly find out their thoughts and hold up nuggets that we share in common. What if we all did this? Could we build a better world, and be instruments of God’s reign? It’s worth a try.

Amy Florian is a teacher and consultant working in Chicago.  For many years she has partnered with the Passionists.  Visit Amy’s website: http://www.corgenius.com/.

Good Friday of the Lord’s Passion

Scripture:

Isaiah 52:13-53:12
Hebrews 4:14-16; 5:7-9
John 18:1-19:42

Reflection:

Often while I’m sitting and chatting with seniors and anyone else who will listen, I start thinking about death. I wonder why—what is this life business all about. Then I realize its all gift and is all I must do is say thanks, let go and give back to you God, our creator.  Thanks!

I keep the Living Wisdom for Every Day a compilation of Paul of the Cross’s writings edited by Passionists, Bennet Kelley on my desk and most mornings when I sit down to start my workday, I read the simple thought and prayer for the day as well as any holy cards, remembering a person(s) in my life who died that day. This morning, April 3, I’m reminded of Father Roger Mercurio, CP, who I first met when he assumed the responsibilities of Rector (Mayor in today’ job descriptions) of the seminary (milieu for planting seeds–farm) I attended as a teenager. Later he assumed the role of Pastor (shepherd of the flock or parish) where I grew up and for much of my life, served in some capacity or another. I’ll never forget the day I sat in his Pastor’s office welcoming him and joyfully recalling our time together when he tended me and many others as new seedlings. We remained fellow friends and laborers in the field ‘til the day he died April 3, 2001.

Creator, thank you so much for the rich loamy soil where you have planted me. I want to share the gifts you have so abundantly provided for me by giving them back and letting go trusting in You. Thank you for my loving and giving parents, Joe and Marion, for my brothers and sisters, Terry, Marianne, Rog, Dave, Tim and Dee. Thank you for my Passionist family, Thomas Moore, Roger, Germain, Tom, Peter, Regis Carl, Bill Gerard, I could go on and on…providing the soil  (humus—organic matter of life) and only hope that this great work as Thomas Berry, Brianne Swimme our scientists have so well shared, we go on. 

Dan O’Donnell is a Passionist Partner and a longtime friend of the Passionists.  He lives in Chicago.  

Scripture:

Exodus 12:1-8, 11-14
1 Corinthians 11:23-26
John 13:1-15

Reflection:

Passionist priest, Father Joe Mitchell, CP, says the most crucial act of redemption did not occur on Good Friday. The moment of redemption occurred in the Garden of Gethsemani the night before Good Friday when, in excruciating mental and physical agony, Jesus pleaded with his Father to let him escape the torture of the next 20 hours.

The brilliant French philosopher, Jean-Luc Marion, who has taught at the University of Chicago as well as the Sorbonne in Paris, says, “. . . Jesus is the one who says I will never do my will. When I speak it is not my words. Which is very strange for us because to be sincere, we assume, is to speak your own words, your thoughts. Jesus, however, says you can trust me because I never say what I think, but only what the Father thinks.  But what is really extraordinary is that Jesus is able to do the will of someone other than himself.  That is the most difficult thing we can ever do.”

That night at Gethsemani, tucked away from the handful of his sleepy disciples in a quiet corner of the garden, Jesus faces a life or death decision, alone before his Father. Until this moment the Gospels tell us Jesus carried out his Father’s will in service to others by healing, consoling, preaching, challenging the sinful ways of men in positions of power, and witnessing to others the ideal way we can live. He took on the evils of his day, including greed, dominance, violence, lies, ambition, and all other forms of selfishness, and he showed no signs of fear of reputation, status, or violence to himself. . . until the night of the Passover, his last Passover on earth.

By his acceptance of what the Father wanted of him that night he modeled what is expected of each of us, his disciples. We distinguish ourselves from all other people by our decision to surrender our wills to the Father’s will, as Jesus did.

Jean-Luc Marion continues, “I would say the ability to give up one’s own will is a very great strength for Christians. As long as they will only to achieve their own goals, they are really no different from anyone else.”

To model this surrender to our own wills, Jesus at the Passover meal before going into the Gethsemani garden, squats to the floor, grasps the dirty, calloused, stinky feet of each of his apostles and scrubs them clean. This humble act is to be repeated by each of us. We surrender our comforts, our ambitions, our projects, our quests for more and more, in order to connect lovingly to one another in service.

To celebrate this radical form of living, we Christians gather around a table, admit our weaknesses, accept forgiveness, listen to God’s Word and offer our entire lives to God’s will in the Sacred Eucharistic celebration. In response God transforms us, as the bread and wine are transformed, into one Body of Christ, glorifying God by our lives of self-surrender to what God wants.

In our illnesses, our limitations, or daily tending to family needs, spousal needs, community needs, we trust totally in God’s Providence to carry us where we need to be.

In the quiet moments, alone with our loving Abba (Daddy), we permit ourselves to be afraid, shaken and worried. But, in time, grace fills us. We surrender as Jesus did on the first Holy Thursday, and we are fully freed from all that is dark and limited in our lives.

God’s will be done.

Jim Wayne is a board member of the Passionist Solidarity Network (PSN), and author of The Unfinished Man. He lives in Louisville, Kentucky.

Scripture:

Isaiah 49:1-6
John 13:21-33, 36-38

Reflection:

Discipleship:  Called from birth…to give one’s life

We’re about the “holiest of weeks”, experiencing in and with Jesus the ultimate expression of Divine Love:  The Eucharist, His Crucifixion and death, and ultimately His Resurrection.  We pause these days and ponder the life-giving Good News of Love in Jesus Crucified, encouraged by our Holy Founder St. Paul of the Cross.

Today’s Scripture from Isaiah 49 chronicles the life and mission of the Suffering Servant of the Lord; no doubt this helps focus our prayer and activities in the person of Jesus.  Called from birth, a “sharp-edged sword…”, a servant of God’s restorative love — and a “…light to the nations, that salvation may reach to the ends of the earth…”  Such a “chronicle” encourages our prayer in the Responsorial refrain:  “I will sing of your salvation.” 

The Gospel selection from John 13 relates Jesus reclining at table with his disciples, having just washed their feet and setting the example for them to follow:  selfless service.  We hear that Jesus is “deeply troubled” by the coming betrayal of one of the disciples, prompting their confusion and sense of loss at the meaning of Jesus’ words.  Jesus states He is soon “going away” — and while unable to follow Jesus at that time, they will follow later…like Jesus, giving of themselves totally.  Peter protests that he will lay down his life for Jesus; we know “the rest of the story” and his threefold denial…and much later, his own martyrdom.  Yes, discipleship, the lived reality…

Jesus has touched our lives and called us to discipleship in our unique vocations and our unique locations.  He challenges us to follow his loving example:  to give of ourselves in helping share the Good News of God’s Love in our world of various and intense human suffering, of injustice and hatred, of sickness of mind and body, of little respect for human life and the life of “mother earth”.  We may even deny Jesus as we fail to stand up for what is right, when we don’t talk about our faith, when we assume the worst and fear change or sickness or aging or death.  Yes, discipleship, the lived reality…

As 21^st Century disciples, may these most holy days touch our hearts and give us new life and direction.  Jesus invites us to follow his lead:  yes, there is suffering and death in discipleship, but as Jesus’ Life proclaims:  Good Friday didn’t spoil the weekend…Jesus Lives!!  Jesus Loves!!

Fr. John Schork, C.P. serves as the Province Vocation Director and also as Local Superior of the Passionist Community of Holy Name in Houston, Texas.