Claire Smith

Scripture:

Numbers 21:4-9
John 8:21-30

Reflection:

In our first reading from Numbers, the Israelites, out of frustration and exhaustion and impatience, complain against God and Moses, and God punishes them by sending saraph serpents who bite the people, and many of them die. The people repent, and ask Moses to intercede for them. And in response, God tells Moses to fashion a bronze serpent, mount it on a pole, “and if anyone who has been bitten looks at it, he will recover.”

In our Gospel reading from John, Jesus is again trying to tell the people who He is. Finally, Jesus says to them, “When you lift up the Son of Man, then you will realize that I AM, and that I do nothing on my own, but I say only what the Father taught me.”

When we reflect on Jesus on the Cross, can we believe that the love and sacrifice demonstrated there really come from God? Can we believe God really loves us that much? I ask the question because if we really do believe in God’s love for us, then we can look at Jesus on the Cross, and, like the Israelites in the desert bitten by the serpent, we, too, can “recover.”

We can recover from despair and anxiety. We can recover from anger and bitterness. We can recover from prejudice and hatred and fear. We can recover from weariness and apathy and complacency.

Jesus is I AM for us. Jesus is God’s love revealed to us. May we look upon Him and see His love and sacrifice and be healed.

Fr. Phil Paxton, C.P., is the local superior of the Passionist Community in Birmingham, Alabama. 

Scripture:

Daniel 13:1-9, 15-17, 19-30, 33-62 or 13:41c-62
John 8:12-20

Reflection:

The disciples approached Jesus and said,
‘Who is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven?’
He called a child over, placed it in their midst, and said,
‘Amen, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children,
you will not enter the Kingdom of heaven.
Whoever humbles himself like this child
is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven.
And whoever receives one child such as this in my name receives me.’  -Matthew 18:1-5

This morning entering the local restaurant where I was meeting a friend for our regular Friday morning breakfast, I passed a booth with a mother and two young children, three and five years old, or something like that. The youngest, a little girl, caught my eye, so I waved and smiled. Immediately, her older brother joined in on the meeting and I waved at him too—a delightful encounter. I winked at mom and then on to securing a booth and waiting for my friend.

Such an encounter often reminds me of my first-year English class where we read and discussed George Eliot’s “Silas Marner, The Weaver of Raveloe”. George Eliot was the penname of Mary Anne Evans for women wouldn’t be considered serious novelists in 1861 when it was published. Briefly, the plot is a marginalized weaver in the early 1800’s finds a child at his front door, takes the child in and raises the little girl all the while trying to find her parents. The child grows up, the parents are eventually discovered, but the young lady stays with the poor weaver. The poor weaver in the process gets involved in the community, gives up his infatuation with money, and reenters the life from which he earlier fled because of false accusations made against him. All this because of a child, a needy child, a needy abandoned child.

Jesus, help me heed your above admonition to your disciples in today’s gospel selection to receive the needy, child or adult, into my life and trust in your promise that truly I am receiving you.

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

Fifth Sunday of Lent

Scripture:

Isaiah 43:16-21
Philippians 3:8-14
John 8: 1-11

Reflection:

In Paul’s letter to the people of Philippi, the remarkable apostle to the Gentiles captures what I feel in moments of deep connection to Christ.

These moments can come when I spend extended time in prayer. But I also feel this connection in surprises, like when the entire family stands around the dining table before a holiday meal to hold hands in thankful prayer, or when I am absorbed in a beautiful Sunday Mass, or sit in my garden and pull weeds, feeling the cool breeze wash my face in the sun light.

There are other times when I experience a great chasm between Christ and me. Without warning, these occur when an idea, a worry, an object, a feeling, or another person, becomes more important than my love of Christ. I am then beholden to “rubbish”, in Paul’s words.

Ignatius, in his profound Spiritual Exercises, tells us an indifference sets the stage to experience to Christ’s presence in our lives:

In our everyday life . . . we must hold ourselves in balance before all created gifts insofar as we have a choice and are not bound by some responsibility. We should not fix our desires on health or sickness, wealth or poverty, success or failure, a long life or a short one. For everything has the potential of calling forth in us a  more loving response to our life forever with God. Our only desire and our one choice should be this: I want and I choose what better leads to God’s deepening life in me.

One remarkable Jesuit spiritual director, the late Mike Brophy, SJ, called this “poised freedom.” We are free to meet Christ every day in people, places, and events.

Jesus reveals his own poised freedom in today’s Gospel. The top-flight Jewish leaders want to catch him messing with Mosaic law to justify his expulsion from their faith community. Bringing to him a woman caught in adultery, Jesus is Mr. Cool. He bends down and doodles in the dust. It is like playing with one’s cell phone while someone is trying to get your attention on a life-or-death issue.

Jesus is confident, at peace with himself. The men in authority don’t ruffle him, nor does the legal issue at hand disturb his inner serenity. He doodles. He waits. He makes a comment at the right moment. He is totally aligned with his Father’s will. He experiences poised freedom.

Cultivating poised freedom in ourselves requires the total commitment to Christ of which Paul speaks. It is something that grace alone permits.

To ask for this grace is appropriate during this time of Lent.

I certainly welcome moments when Christ breaks into my life with surprises. But entering periods of prayer with a detached mind can make space for grace to elevate daily routines to be foretastes of heaven.

Pull away from all that distracts you today. Place yourself in the presence of God. Experience poised freedom that gives you peace and joy. It is there for the asking.

Jim Wayne is a member of St Agnes Catholic Community in Louisville, Kentucky, a Passionist parish. He served in the Kentucky House of Representatives for 28 years, is the author of the award winning novel, The Unfinished Man, and is a clinical social worker.