Claire Smith

Scripture:

Genesis 3:9-15, 20 or Acts 1:12-14
John 19:25-34

Reflection:

Last month was my first Mother’s Day without my mom. She died on Christ the King Sunday – November 25 – last year. I believe, based on my own experience and that of many others, that no matter the depth of the relationship, when a mother dies, it leaves a void in the world that will never be filled in the same way again. Even people whose mother was abusive, unsupportive, or absent can have an unpredictably strong reaction when she dies. Perhaps some grief reflects the loss of a dream that someday they may have the mother they always wanted to have. Yet even beyond that, there seems to be a persistent thread of connection between a mother and her children.

In my case, I had a deep relationship with Mom. We looked a lot alike, thought alike, prayed alike, and at times considered ourselves soulmates. There were rough spots, for sure, but I always knew I could rely on Mom. We traveled a difficult journey through her illness with Alzheimer’s, the several falls and broken bones that sapped her strength, and her final two weeks in hospice, but it was grounded by the years of love upon which our relationship was built.

I miss Mom a lot. And with Dad having died, too (to use the words of Kelli Auerbach), I’d never understood how much my identity was entwined with being someone’s child. That tether is gone, as eventually are every one of our earthly tethers.

I think of what Jesus must have felt as he looked down from the cross and saw his bereft mother. Although he gave her to another’s care, and she to his, they both had to let go of the unique and visceral physical bond between them, and their hearts were breaking.

As wrenchingly difficult as these losses can be, the very severing reminds me of an enduring reality – there is one tether than I can never lose. My deepest identity, my strength, and the core of my being are inextricably entwined with being Someone’s child. God is my faithful, wise, patient, and everlasting source. I can only truly rest secure and at peace within that embrace.

And in fact, it is within that very embrace that I remain tethered to those I loved on earth. We all come from God, we all go to God, and we are united with God and each other in ways we barely begin to understand. I am confident that as I place myself in God’s presence in prayer, Mom is there too, along with all those who have gone before me. It’s not the same, and there are still things I must let go of. But if I allow myself to be open to it, it is real, sometimes visceral, true, and eternal. I am indeed someone’s child.

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/.

Scripture:

Acts 2:1-11
1 Corinthians 12:3b-7, 12-13 or Romans 8:8-17
John 20:19-23 or John 14:15-16, 23b-26

Reflection:

Come, Holy Spirit

Creative energy seems low in the area of liturgy these days. Perhaps things have just settled down from a more creative period? But creative energy is volcanic, it simmers, it finds crevices of expression. It feels like this energy is moving to Pentecost. Parishes are developing Pentecost Vigils using the readings in the lectionary. Many parishes are finding that programs to welcome practicing adults who have never celebrated the sacrament of Confirmation are enthusiastically received. Come, Holy Spirit Come, shed a ray of light divine!

The initiation sacraments are the Easter sacraments – Baptism, Confirmation and Eucharist. They weave us together in celebrating the dying and rising of Our Lord. It was necessary for Jesus to suffer, as Jesus told the disciples on the road to Emmaus. It seems that it is necessary for us to suffer to come to faith in the Risen Lord. John is the first Apostle to believe is the one who stood by the Cross closest to the act of Jesus’ love and suffering. Peter is humbled and crushed. Mary Magdalene tearfully mourns for Jesus. Paintings of Our Lord’s Ascension often show his wounded hands and feet as he ascends into heaven, a final glimpse of something so important. O most blessed Light divine, shine within these hearts of yours, and our inmost being fill!

Disciples are not to look heavenward but to turn their gaze to the Church, to the Body of Christ. The Body of Christ is a wounded body, the crucified of today. Peter will be far from Galilee and Jerusalem when he crosses into the new territory of Cornelius and the mystery of God’s grace. Paul hears in his dream, ‘Come help us’, and is sent by the Spirit to a new land, Macedonia. Pope Francis calls us to go the sheep, leave the comfort of the known, cross boundaries to reach those in need. We are called to the margins and to be with the marginal. You, of comforters the best; you, the soul’s most welcome guest; Sweet refreshment here below.

So our celebration of Easter ends on this the 50th day. As Jesus was sent by the Father we are now sent by Jesus, to go to the new territories to which the Holy Spirit will lead us. Our suffering and our wounds help us to believe. We go as witnesses of forgiveness and healing. Heal our wounds, our  strength renew; on our dryness pour your dew; wash the stains of guilt away.

Seven young people will be confirmed in my parish today, the youngest an eighth grader the other six in high school. In talking to each of them I fell from the youngest to the oldest God’s grace is very present. Where did these kids come from? They were not friends to start with, each responded to the invitation to be Confirmed. I realize they do not quite fit into my adult world, they experience a world differently than I do. I hear a mature sense of right and wrong, a listening to God in their lives, a care for others, a desire to do good. They are not self absorbed. Each one is unique but shares faith and with faith looks outward. On the faithful, who adore in your sevenfold gift descend. This celebration of Pentecost give us all virtue’s sure reward; give us salvation, Lord; Give us joys that never end. Amen. Alleluia! Come, Holy Spirit.

Fr. William Murphy, CP is the pastor of Immaculate Conception parish in Jamaica, New York.

Scripture:

Acts 28:16-20, 30-31
John 21: 20-25

Reflection:

In our reading from the conclusion of John’s Gospel, Peter sees the disciple whom Jesus loved, and asks Jesus, “Lord, what about him?” This is after Jesus has told Peter “by what kind of death he would glorify God.” Jesus answers, “What if I want him to remain until I come? What concern is it of yours? You follow me.” By Jesus’ response we see that Peter is probably not asking out of idle curiosity, but perhaps trying to compare himself with the beloved disciple; to see whether the beloved disciple is going to get some special treatment or a better prediction of his fate. Have you ever encountered anyone who did the same thing, always checking to see what other people get and how it compares to what they have received? Perhaps you have fallen into the same trap yourselves. I know I have.

Checking to see how much others have and how much we don’t, or trying to determine whether they should be loved by God or not, is not our purpose as disciples. If we follow Jesus, when we ask “What about him?” or “What about her?” or “What about them?” we are really asking “How can I help him?” or “What is her story?” or “Is there a way we can meet their needs?” We are to look at the choices we make and ask, “How does this affect others?

When we find ourselves asking, “What about him, or her, or them?” Jesus has answered our question by His Cross and the empty tomb: They are beloved by God. May we share Jesus’ answer with the world.

Fr. Phil Paxton, C.P., is the local superior at St. Paul of the Cross Passionist Community in Detroit, Michigan.

Scripture:

Acts 25:13b-21
John 21:15-19

Reflection:

There we—ten high school seniors, two guides and I—were, in a single file, meandering slowly, ever so slowly, taking one step at a time, on the teens and my first high-mountain ascent in the Rockies around Vail Colorado. It was rather early in the morning; the sun had risen about an hour earlier, when all of a sudden, I discovered we were in the middle of a garden planted by mother nature. I couldn’t believe it. There were flowers all around us where, up to this point, it was just tundra as we bushwhacked our way up and up. Despite knowing I would slow our progress, I stopped to take it all in—a garden in the wilderness near the top of the mountain.

Looking back, I realize my life has been a series of these high mountain ascents, with starting a teaching career in my mid-twenties, leaving that path and learning how to sell life insurance to rich people, returning to teaching in my fifties, all leading to this moment where I’m learning to retire, truly a misnomer—it’s more like learning to stop and smell the roses. I’m back on that high mountain ascent finding myself in the middle of a garden.

Having been blest with many gifted men and women as my guides all through my educational and life’s experiences, I have heard many times that I should “follow Jesus!” So, I tried, one slow step at a time, very seldom stopping to look around to see how that was working. As I sit and write this reflection, I realize that while I sometimes veered from that path, I believe today, that I can truly say I did my best to follow Jesus. I feel like Peter in today’s gospel selection who I suspect had no idea what Jesus was asking of him when he told him:

He said to him the third time,
“Simon, son of John, do you love me?”
Peter was distressed that he had said to him a third time,
“Do you love me?” and he said to him,
“Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.”
Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.
Amen, amen, I say to you, when you were younger,
you used to dress yourself and go where you wanted;
but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands,
and someone else will dress you
and lead you where you do not want to go.”
He said this signifying by what kind of death he would glorify God.
And when he had said this, he said to him, “Follow me.”  (JN 21: 17-19)

Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. Give me eyes to see and ears to hear today to follow you.

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