Claire Smith

Scripture:

Isaiah 55:10-11
Matthew 6:7-15

Reflection:

Hidden in Plain Sight

The Lord’s Prayer, as we know, contains seven petitions:

Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come
Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread
Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us
Lead us not into temptation
But deliver us from evil.

But, the Lord’s Prayer has a word hidden in plain sight, or word with a concealed meaning. This word appears only twice in the entire bible, in Matthew’s prayer here, and in Luke’s version of the Our Father, Lk 11:3.

That strange word is a Greek word, epiousion, and unfortunately it is mistranslated as “bread” — give us this day our “daily bread.”

If this word is strange and curious, it is because the gospel writers needed to create a new word to describe something new — the communion bread of the Last Supper, the Eucharist.

Epi, means over, above. And ousios, means essential or substantial. Thus, a more accurate translation and meaning would be “super substantial bread.” In his Vulgate (Latin) translation of the Bible, St. Jerome translates epiousion as panem supersubstantianem.

This is no ordinary bread to which the Our Father refers. No.

Give us today our super substantial bread clearly echoes the Eucharist. In the Eucharist, the confected bread looks like ordinary “daily bread.” But as we Catholics know — with the certainty of faith — that underlying the substance has been changed. And the reality hidden in plain sight by the accidental veil of plain bread is the real presence, body, blood, soul, and divinity of Jesus Christ.

This mysterious coined word, sits right in the middle of the seven petitions. The first three petitions are heavenly, transcendent petitions. The last three petitions are earthbound. And the word, epiousion binds the heavenly and the earthly, just as the Eucharist is the super substantial

bread of the Messianic banquet, which we celebrate, that unites us, the mystical body of Christ, with God, the angels and saints.

Whether we call it a word hidden in plain sight, or a word with a concealed meaning is of little matter. The epiousion, the Eucharist remains for us our super substantial bread that nourishes us daily.

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

Scripture:

Leviticus 19:1-2, 11-18
Matthew 25:31-46

Reflection:

Justice, mercy, honesty, and self-sacrificing service – these are the themes of Christian discipleship throughout Scripture, and very pointedly today. The reading from Leviticus gives an entire list of “shall nots” – we are not to lie, cheat, steal, show partiality, or harbor hate, and we are not to “stand by idly when your neighbor’s life is at stake.”  The section ends with a “shall”: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself. I am the LORD.”

Jesus reiterated this command to love your neighbor, calling it the Second Greatest Commandment (after loving God with everything you’ve got.) To describe the neighbor whom we are to love and whose life we are to defend, Jesus used the Good Samaritan parable, illustrating that everyone, even a person of different ethnicity and social class, is our neighbor, and we are not to “stand idly by” watching their suffering. In today’s Gospel, Jesus emphasizes that theme again in the Last Judgment narrative. Whatever we do to others (positive or negative), and especially what we do to the least and most marginalized, we do to Jesus himself. As Pope Francis recently taught, our responsibility to love others doesn’t end at our own doorway or family circle; it is universal.

It is starkly clear: We have a God-given mandate to feed hungry and thirsty people, care for the oppressed and outcast, welcome strangers in our land, clothe those without clothing, serve those without support (scriptural examples are widows and orphans but there are many others in our time) and care for even criminals in prison. None of these commands ever say it’s OK to judge whether recipients are “worthy” of our aid or can do anything for us in return. No, we are to give freely and generously, recognizing that we are all neighbors to each other. To put it bluntly, we are to live as Jesus did. Wow! Those are tall orders!

It’s especially challenging to live out these non-negotiable mandates of discipleship, as many people worldwide revert to padding their own interests and pocketbooks at the expense of others. Those whom Jesus commanded us to love are largely going unloved, underserved, and suffering, and their plight is only getting worse. As people of faith, we can’t “stand idly by”.

Of course, if anything is going to change in my world, I have to change myself first.  So in what ways am I looking after my own interests, failing to work for better treatment for those who have no voice, or even perpetuating the injustices? How often am I standing idly by while others are suffering and in need? And what can I do about it this Lent?  Can I give more to organizations that serve the hungry, immigrant, oppressed, war victims, and imprisoned? Can I write Congressional representatives to insist they pass laws reflecting Gospel justice? Can I become more involved in activities here in my own community that advocate for and serve these marginalized people? How can I join with others to make our voices heard?

I wish I had the answers as I search for effective ways to act. I don’t. But I won’t give up. I’m determined to stand up for Gospel values, the mercy of God, the service that Jesus lived for, and the values that he died for. Jesus stands in front of each of us right now, dividing us into sheep and goats. To which side will he send me? To which side will he send you?

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/.

First Sunday of Lent

Scripture:

Deuteronomy 26:4-10
Romans 10:8-13
Luke 4:1-13

Reflection:

Our Desert Journey Begins

Our first Sunday of Lent always brings us to the desert where Jesus is tempted. On Ash Wednesday our foreheads were marked, ‘Remember man that you are dust and unto dust you shall return’, sobering words spoken to Adam by God as he exits the garden. But no more can we wash the meaning of the ashes from our forehead than can we forget that the dirt to which we shall return is so beautifully molded by God, delightfully fashioned into our individuality and uniqueness. We are God’s treasure. The artist of Chartres cathedral who fashioned the image of Adam sleeping in God’s arms tells us this without using words. He reminds us of the promise of God’s love for each of us, a love rich in fidelity and abounding in kindness. His carving says that it is after the fall when God leaves the garden to check on his children; God picks up Adam, God picks up Eve, and He hugs them and loves them as they sleep.

We are in the desert with Jesus. Like the ashes it also has a beautiful symbol full of hidden hope and love. Deuteronomy shows both sides of the desert: Abraham is a wandering man in a foreign land, an alien, but God surprises him with descendants like the sand of the seashore and the stars of the sky. He becomes a nation! Egypt  became a place of suffering, a desert for Israel, but God led them out and they passed over from death to new life! Miriam with her tambourine led Israel in a dance, ‘Let us sing to the Lord; he has covered himself in glory’. And in the long Exodus journey to the promised land, a desert journey, there awaits a land flowing with milk and honey.

The desert is fertile.

None of us could see the ashes that were placed upon our foreheads, could we? We could see our neighbors, our family, the strangers we passed on Wednesday. Paul says today there is no distinction between Jew or Greek, indeed, no distinction between any  of us at all, ‘man, woman you are dust and to dust you shall return’. God’s creative and saving love is for all, our ashes are not only for ourselves, we share them together.

We have gone into the desert to begin our journey and to passover with Our Lord from death to the life of the Risen One, the one who will be the First Born from among the dead. The desert will become a place transformed, the closed gate to the Beautiful Garden will be opened, a place perhaps to pause and stare as our journey led by the Good Shepherd continues on to its end at the banquet table in our Father’s house?

Be attentive on the Lenten journey that Our God is a God of consolation. Love does not disappear, hope is always with us, the desert brings forth life. The tempter of our human nature who even uses truth to bad purpose as we hear in the gospel, deals in desolation, making hope and love seem out of reach. Speak to Jesus on the journey through our desert these days. Humbly ask the one tempted in the desert for protection from desolation in our deserts. Let us break out the tambourine on occasion, let us laugh with Sarah and the holy ones who have gone before us and those who surround us. Let us help each other to know God’s consolation in our midst, even in the desert.

Fr. William Murphy, CP, is a member of Immaculate Conception Community in Jamaica, New York.