Claire Smith

Scripture:

2 Timothy 4:10-17b
Luke 10:1-9

Reflection:

“He appointed seventy-two disciples whom he sent ahead of him to every town and place…tell them the Kingdom of God is at hand for you”.

 He sent 72, a richly symbolic number in Scripture – Genesis numbers the nations of the earth at 72.  The mission of the Christian is to all the world and the message of the Christian mission is not our own message – but Christ’s message – and Christ’s message was about the Kingdom of God – his Father’s kingdom, his Father’s world, his Father’s vision.

We received our mission at Baptism – a question for us is have we grown into that mission?  Or perhaps HOW have we grown into that mission?  Or maybe Are we ready to accept that mission?  How and to whom are we willing to share our mission?

 Pope Francis, in his exhortation Gaudete et Exsultate, reminds us that we have each been given a mission, “planned by the Father to reflect and embody, at a specific moment in history, a certain aspect of the Gospel”.  A question for each of us is which aspect of the Gospel have I been called to embody and reflect?  How well do I know the Gospel – what facet do I need to embody here in my little corner of the Kingdom?  What facet do I need to put flesh and bones on today in the 21^st century?  With whom am I called to share with?  With whom am I called to partner with in spreading the mission?  Who are the crucified in my neighborhood, workplace, community?

In his book, Reading the Clouds, Anthony Gittins talks about learning to read the clouds and that as Christians “Committed to the inclusive and boundary-breaking mission of Jesus, we are called – each of us in some fashion – to go beyond familiar people and places” (122).  In Mt 25, Jesus tells us that whatever we do to the least of these, we do to him.  How and to whom are we going to go and spead the word that the Kingdom of God is at hand, shake the dust when necessary, and share Peace – God’s Peace.

Faith Offman is the Associate Director of Ministry at St. Paul of the Cross Passionist Retreat and Conference Center in Detroit, Michigan.

Memorial of Saint Teresa of Jesus, Virgin and Doctor of the Church

Scripture:

Galatians 4:22-24, 26-27, 1-5:1
Luke 11:29-32

Reflection:

“I die a daughter of the Church”, these are the words of Saint Teresa of Jesus, Virgin and Doctor of the Church whom we celebrate today. These words “I die a daughter of the Church,” were spoken from her death bed and are words that we should hold dear as we journey through life as Catholic Christians. Through the struggles we endure, the joys we experience and the lessons that we learn, we should all strive to utter these words at the end, “I die a daughter/a son of the Church.” Saint Teresa of Avila, a Carmelite became one of the most important figures in all of the Church for her Catholic spirituality. Her works were many, her best known: The Life, The way of Perfection, The Mansions and The Foundations, contain a doctrine which encompasses the whole of the spiritual life. As we reflect on her today we should also reflect on our own lives spiritually in relation to the life that God has called us to, we should reflect on the struggles that Saint Teresa of Avila experienced and how she endured to become a Doctor of the Church. We should consider our lives from the perspective of our last days, working through our burdens, struggles and joys in light of our role as Catholic Christians in order that we too, in our last days, may consider the whole of our legacy as daughters and sons of the Church, as daughters and sons of Christ.

Today Jesus points us to an evil generation, who seeks a sign, but the only one given is the sign of Jonah and it is one of great theological importance. Jonah was a disobedient prophet who rejected his commission from God to go to the capital city of Nineveh, an enemy of Israel to warn them to repent or face imminent doom. Because of his disobedience Jonah was cast into the sea and swallowed by a great fish where he remained for three days, upon being rescued he changed his ways and obediently carried out his mission and the Nenevites repented, saving their city and its many citizens because there was something greater than Jonah at work here. And there is something greater than Jonah, something greater than Solomon and something greater than the great Saint Teresa of Jesus at work in each of our lives. It is the great Redeemer Himself, Jesus Christ who is always at work in our lives, who wants no more than for us to be sons and daughters of His Church and He always offers His graces which are sufficient for us to rise above the evils of our own generation.

Deacon James Anderson is the Administrator at Holy Name Passionist Retreat Center in Houston, Texas.

Scripture:

Wisdom 7:7-11
Hebrews 4:12-13
Mark 10:17-30

Reflection:

In our second reading for Sunday (Hebrews 4:12-13), the author writes: “Indeed the word of God is living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword, penetrating even between soul and spirit, joints and marrow, and able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart.” As I was reflecting on that, I wondered whether the truth of James’ words had to do with whether we let the word of God penetrate our hearts and our minds.

A case in point is our Gospel reading for Sunday (Mark 10:17-30). A young man comes to Jesus, kneels down before him, and asks, “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” If I were Jesus, I would have been relieved. Here was not some scribe or Pharisee trying to trip Jesus up, or see if He knew what He was talking about. This was someone who sincerely wanted to know what to do. Even before Jesus answers with the Ten Commandments, I think this man knew there was more to it than obeying the letter of the Law. So Jesus looks at him with love and says, “You are lacking in one thing. Go, sell what you have and give to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” And the young man goes “away sad, for he had many possessions.”

And then Jesus says something that astonishes everyone: “How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” And when He looks at the faces of His disciples, He says it again: “Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle that for one who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” The disciples are astonished because it was widely believed that the rich were rich because they were blessed by God. This belief held even though there were prophets like Amos and Isaiah who spoke out against those who got their wealth by injustice to their workers or cheating the poor and vulnerable. And there are people still today who preach a “prosperity gospel”, perpetuating that same belief. How hard it is to let the word of God really penetrate our hearts!

Is it sinful to be rich? Following the prophets, it seems that depends on how one gets rich. For me, Jesus’ words speak to the difficulty of letting go of what is not of God. Can we let go of our material possessions in order to live the Gospel? The young man couldn’t. It’s not easy. But besides material wealth, there are many other things we can hold onto that get in the way of following Jesus, even things that could be good in themselves.

Sometimes we want to hang onto power. I know most of you who are reading this do not consider yourselves powerful in the eyes of the world. But sometimes we can get caught up in trying to control the people around us. Sometimes we want to hang onto status, or to people’s good opinion of us. I always like “applause.” In our U.S. society, there seems to be a lot of emphasis on winning. It carries into politics, sports, and business, where some will do anything to win, and declare others as losers. But as I said, there are other things that are good, but are also things of which we can make idols. In our first reading from the book of Wisdom (7:7-11), the writer says, speaking about wisdom, “Beyond health and comeliness I loved her, and I chose her rather than the light.” We can even cling to health and youthful looks at all costs.

It is hard to let go of what gets in the way of following Jesus whole-heartedly, which is why I think it’s easy to accept the Word of God when we don’t let it penetrate very deep. To open ourselves more fully to God’s word, we need grace. And Jesus promises that to us: “For human beings it is impossible, but not for God. All things are possible for God.” And when Peter says, “We have given up everything and followed you;” Jesus responds with a promise that the disciples will be given a “hundred times more,” as well as “persecutions” (we can’t avoid the Cross) and “eternal life in the age to come” (but we will get to the Resurrection).

To let go is not to lose! That is hard for us to believe, since we seem to buy into a mindset that declares that there has to be winners and losers, and we give into the fear that if you have more, then that means I have less. We need not walk away sad, but continue to strive to do God’s will. We are called to let go and to trust in the love that God has for us in Jesus Christ.

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

Scripture:

Galatians 3:22-29
Luke 11:27-28

Reflection:

My husband, Pat, and I just recently returned from a trip to Spain. While there, we were blessed to visit Montserrat, a Benedictine Monastery built centuries ago on the beautiful mountains in the outskirts of Barcelona. It was in the Basilica in a small side chapel of the Holy Cross, I encountered the painting above and on September 15^th the feast of Our Lady of Sorrows. From that time, she has captured my heart in new ways. The painting is titled, “The Pieta of Montserrat” the artist remains unknown to me.

So, it seems fitting that I should share this as I reflect on today’s Gospel from St. Luke. “Blessed is the womb that carried you and the breasts at which you nursed.” V.27 Does she look like she feels blessed?

She certainly doesn’t resemble the usual idea we have of Mary, the Mother of Jesus. There is not much serenity visible—at least, not to me. She could be any mother as she holds the lifeless body of her son and today I mourn her pain and the pain of every mother-and father—who have experienced her pain in their lives. In her face, I see every face, every beloved child of God for whom her Son gave his life. For in her pain, we see His pain, his rejection and our own.

Yet, we know the end of the story, don’t we? And this is most definitely NOT the end of the story. Jesus words to the woman in the crowd offers another insight to what may happen to those who “hear the word of God and observe it.” V.28 For most of us, however, we may not experience such a cross as we diligently “take us our cross(es) daily” and follow him. I observe no anger in her face, maybe a little bit of confusion or even shock as she holds her pain. When Jesus took on our sins—the sins of all humanity—did he also take on the hate and the anger of humanity? O, sweet Jesus, thank you!

Mary holds all the ugliness life has to throw at her and observes the word of God in her Son. Who while he was alive preached mercy, compassion and especially love. Yes, she is blessed, but it comes at the cost of dying to herself and believing—trusting that God’s got this darkness under control.

Etty Hillesum (who was a 27 year old Jewish woman who died in Auschwitz), in the book, “An Interrupted Life and Letters from Westerbork,” writes as she observes life in the Nazi holding camp for Jews.

“And I also believe, childishly perhaps but stubbornly, that the earth will become more habitable again only through the love that the Jew Paul describes to the citizens of Corinth in the thirteenth chapter of his first letter.” P.256

I’m so moved by her words. If one person can come to that inspiration and act on it; we are all capable! In today’s world of polarization and anxiety I hear the message of hope in these simple verses. Let us remember that we are all truly one—as Paul tells us in our first reading—and we all belong to God.

Thank you, dear Mother of Sorrows for shining your light through the generations, always offering love and peace.

Jean Bowler is a retreatant at Mater Dolorosa Passionist Retreat Center in Sierra Madre, California, and a member of the Office of Mission Effectiveness Board of Holy Cross Province.

Scripture:

Galatians 2:1-2, 7-14
Luke 11:1-4

Reflection:

The early church faced quite a dilemma. The apostles believed that Jesus had come to renew Judaism. They therefore required any non-Jewish followers to convert to Judaism and abide by all the Jewish precepts, dietary laws, and traditions. They didn’t count on God and the Spirit inspiring Paul to reach out to the Gentiles, those shunned “others” who had been harshly judged and excluded for centuries, yet who clearly accepted and were formed by the message of Jesus. Once it became clear what was happening with the Gentiles, the leadership of the Jewish disciples had to make the tough choice of whether this faith was one of inclusion or exclusion. They had to decide who “belonged,” and especially what standards or requirements must be maintained by followers in order to be true to Jesus.

After much discussion and many meetings, the leadership (headed by Peter and James) decided for inclusion. Gentiles did not need to become Jews. They did not need to be circumcised. They were not required to follow all the dietary restrictions of Judaism. They were accepted just as they were, and could be baptized and fully incorporated into the community of believers. Other than professing to follow Jesus and live his teachings in community, the single required standard for all believers was care for the poor.

With this decision, the doors were opened. All were welcome, without exception. No one was excluded, dismissed, or prevented from full membership in the community, no matter their heritage, nationality, or upbringing.

That kind of inclusive welcome is certainly rare in our world today. So many faith traditions are defined not so much by who is welcome but by who is “out”, with boundaries largely based on human-made laws, standards, requirements, and restrictions. We have not yet achieved the vision Jesus dreamed of – that all may be one. In fact, sometimes it seems that we are farther from it than ever.

Unfortunately, this situation is mirrored in the rest of society as well. Political parties marginalize or exclude anyone who doesn’t toe the line on every aspect of official party policy, and members refuse to collaborate or even have conversations with someone who holds another party affiliation. In our public and private discussions, they too often immediately devolve into who is “right” and who is “wrong”, with no common ground or grey area allowed. Some people are committed to separating the races, preferring areas and even countries dedicated to protecting and welcoming only one race.

I could go on with examples. It seems that societal life in our world is increasingly dependent on excluding those deemed “other”, while building a supposedly comfortable and safe cocoon filled solely with those who are alike in every way possible.

Is this what Jesus preached? Is this how Jesus lived? How can anyone profess to be Christian if they are committed to exclusion, denigration, labeling, closed-mindedness, and oppression? This applies especially when those getting cast aside are the poor, the refugee, or those living on the margins of society – the very ones that Jesus reached out to in love. Jesus prayed that God’s will be done on this earth just as it is in heaven. We pray that too, at every Mass and whenever we pray the Lord’s Prayer. But if we only give it lip service, ignoring and excluding our brothers and sisters of other countries, races, faiths, and cultures, then we are like white-washed tombs.

I don’t know the answers on a national or global scale. I do know that change often bubbles up from the bottom. So what can each of us do to be faithful followers of Jesus? How can we fund, work for, and be part of organizations fighting for rights and social justice for all people? How can we reach out to those we encounter every day in a welcoming, inclusive, love-filled way? Can we vote for candidates who truly uphold Gospel principles in their lives and their policies, and who are willing to work with others for the common good?

The leaders of the early Church led the way to inclusion. Can we follow that example, in the name of Jesus? Perhaps if we can join together to call out what is happening and stop the condemnation, judgement, and exclusion, then God’s kingdom can actually come. Perhaps we can get closer to Jesus’ vision and the reign of God on earth.

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:

Galatians 1:6-12
Luke 10:25-37

Reflection:

(Please keep the Passionist Congregation in your thoughts and prayers over these days and throughout this month of October. We began our General Chapter in Rome two days ago and are working now to plan and prepare for the years ahead. Thank you, Denis Travers, CP)

But to focus on today our liturgical readings take us to one of the most loved stories that Jesus told – that of the Good Samaritan.

We are all too familiar with the story and its main characters. The Traveller who foolishly attempts to journey unaccompanied on one of the most notorious and dangerous roads of the time. The Robbers who act with violence to deprive the naive traveller of his goods and who nearly take his life as well. The Priest and then the Levite who adhere to rituals whilst overlooking the great commandment to love their neighbour.

But I want to speak about another character – one who offers us the chance to meditate on our own loving. Especially when our love for another is often unseen and hidden and yet is vital to that person’s well-being.

I am not referring here to the Samaritan, but to the Inn Keeper – the one who imitates and continues the compassion of the Samaritan! He is an unobtrusive character in the story, yet one whose actions are essential to the working of the parable.

The Inn Keeper’s role is almost unnoticed in the story. He does not rescue the traveller, but he is the one charged with the day to day care of the injured man. His role is not so widely acclaimed, but it is essential to the Samaritan’s strategy – for without the Inn Keeper there is no ongoing care for the wounded man, there is no one to trust with the money left behind (and no one to extend credit). Without his care there is no continued treatment of the wounds, no daily nourishing provision of conversation and food, no company for the wounded traveller and no point of reference for the Samaritan upon his return visit to the area.

The love shown by a parent, partner or friend is so often the same. So many times in life our call to love another is not seen in dramatic deeds, but rather goes on quietly in the background gently accumulating years of faithful and caring service to those we love.

Indeed much of our most compassionate work will be unseen (sometimes even by the recipient and certainly by the wider public). Yet this approach to people we love – and especially to those who need our assistance – is one of the most deeply valued aspects of Christian life and service. We are called to be generous with others as God is generous with us.

This is often loving from the level of the ‘heart’ – wherein resides that inner life and goodness given by God and which was explicitly identified in our baptism. Our capacity to love as God has first loved us is reactivated every time the call of Jesus is whispered in the depths of our hearts. In response to this call we manifest our true nature as one created in the image and likeness of God by our determination to respond in a kindly, sympathetic manner to those who are ‘wounded’ by life. We are called on often in life to release, and act from, our capacity to be a neighbour to those who are in need.

Let’s pray that throughout our Christian life we allow our own inner goodness to be manifested in our gentle sympathy and love for others.

Indeed this parable teaches us that sometimes the worst times can become beautiful memories – and thus through the risk-taking of the Samaritan and the ongoing generosity of the Innkeeper, the wounded traveller’s life goes from a moment of horror to an experience of deep compassion and loving care.

Of course and ideally, we are both the Samaritan and Innkeeper – since in this parable both can model for us what ‘loving our neighbour’ (or loving as a neighbour) can look like.

Fr. Denis Travers, C.P., is a member of Holy Spirit Province, Australia.  He currently serves on the General Council and is stationed in Rome.

Scripture:

Genesis 2:18-24
Hebrews 2:9-11
Mark 10:2-16 or 10:2-12

Reflection:

In my first month of teaching one of my homeroom students brought in an underground newspaper published on 8 ½ x 14” mimeographed paper with a front-page editorial that he had written. He gave it to me and asked me what I thought. I studied it for a couple of minutes (it wasn’t very long) and then gave him my honest opinion. “This is terrible!” He didn’t care for my appraisal and responded: “You just don’t like what it says.” I told him, I had no idea what he was trying to say at which point he began verbally explaining what he wanted to write.  I stopped him and suggested that I would teach him and his class how to write a good editorial and then we could discuss this further. The following week, I presented a unit on how to write a good editorial.

Not long after that, my “problem” student returned with the latest edition of the underground rag and sure enough—he had learned how to write a good editorial, only this time it was all about the school we were part of. I guess I told him he should write about something he actually knew about. Anyway, to the total chagrin of my fellow teachers, the student had managed to spread the paper all over the school. Need I say, this student didn’t have anything good to write about the school? My fellow teachers quickly decided that I was the real author of this editorial and the best way to deal with me was to isolate me at the lunchroom or faculty meetings, by immediately vacating any table I dared to take a seat at. Those actions really didn’t bother me. I had no intention of sticking around anyway—I continued to hope that I would find another position in the paper industry where I could make some real money.  Eventually, the principal hired a woman teacher who at first probably didn’t know better, but she would gladly sit with me at lunch—she had the same responsibilities I had with the high school students, only with the grammar school students.

After about six months of continuing my search for another position selling fine papers to the printing and graphic arts industry, I settled into my teaching position realizing that I actually liked teaching.  As I look back at that time, I also understood that what I liked most about teaching was all the learning I was doing. I was learning about myself, about young teenage boys who had come from a much different environment, and yet, not so different in many respects, than I did. I was learning that what some people identified as “bad” was really not that at all—needy maybe, but not bad. I was learning that maybe doing what I liked doing was more important than making tons of money.

I wonder if that isn’t the very quality of children (the ability to learn and change) Jesus was referring to in today’s gospel selection when he tells his disciples:

“Let the children come to me;
do not prevent them, for the kingdom of God belongs to
such as these.
Amen, I say to you,
whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child
will not enter it.” (MK 10:14-15)

Then again, maybe it’s not that at all. Maybe it’s children’s ability to stay in the present moment, not lamenting the past or worrying about the future, just trusting in the world around them one day at a time.

Maybe it’s both?

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