Claire Smith

Scripture:

Amos 7:12-15
Mark 6: 7-13

Reflection:

Throughout our lives we are called to many things, universities, jobs, sporting teams, etc. To be a disciple of Jesus is to experience a call, it is to be sent on a mission in partnership with others, a mission expressed in terms of living the Gospel. Before before anyone can preach, teach, heal, or drive out of demons as we heard in today’s Gospel they must be in the word.

So what is your call? Sometimes our lives become so full of white noise and static we miss what God calling us to do, what God is calling us to be. Our lives become too complicated and we allow ourselves to be pulled in too many different directions. Have you ever tried to listen to a radio station with static? There is a message that has gotten your attention and you strain to hear it but this static noise and other voices are coming through the speakers, then you fine tune the dial and the voice or the music becomes clearer and you can focus on the message.

Well every once in a while we need to do a little fine tuning of our lives and ask ourselves, am I tuned into the Gospel or am I allowing the noise and busyness of life to water it down? In other words, am I orienting my life to the truth of the Gospel or am I orienting the truth of the Gospel to fit my life? St. Augustine once said, “If you believe what you like in the gospels, and reject what you don’t like, it is not the gospel you believe, but yourself.”

God is calling us; let us ensure that we are on the right frequency so we can hear him.

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

Scripture:

Isaiah 6:1-8
Matthew 10:24-33

Reflection:

It is always valuable to take a few moments to look over the Scripture readings for each celebration of the Holy Eucharist.  Sometimes I find that there are short sentences that suddenly jump out at me as if I had never read them before!  There are several in our readings for today that do just that.

The Alleluia verse is the first: “If you are insulted for the name of Christ, blessed are you, for the Spirit of God rests upon you.”

After living as a disciple and even as a priest in our Catholic faith for many years, I cannot remember a single moment when I have ever been insulted in the name of Christ.  I am sure there are times when individuals may have distanced themselves from me because of who I am, but I have no recollection of anyone ever actually insulting me, at least not to my face!  But our Alleluia verse tells us that if, indeed, this should ever happen we would, in fact, be blessed.  And not only blessed but even have the Spirit of God resting upon us.  While I may fear being insulted, I certainly long for the Spirit of God to rest upon me!  Perhaps the challenge inherent in this is that I may need to witness my faith more radically than I do at the present time.  Perhaps I live my faith too cautiously!

This challenge to a more radical witness is also found in our first reading from Isaiah.  There is an amazing vision of the Lord, the Holy One, seated upon his throne.  Along with this great vision come words that I must remember in simple ways every day: “Here I am Lord, send me.”  God reveals himself to us all in great and small ways each day.  And our response to this intimate revelation can be nothing less than an awareness that to know the Lord also means to realize that we are sent forth in His holy name, as well!  Send me Lord, send me!

And lastly, in our beautiful Gospel passage from Matthew we are reminded that we are even more precious to God than all the birds of the air!  Not a single sparrow falls from the sky without the knowledge of our heavenly Father.  We should not be afraid to go forth and witness our faith for we are “worth more than many sparrows.”

Brief and concise sentences are found in our readings today and each of them is packed with challenge and assurance.  We need both!

Fr. Pat Brennan, C.P. is the director of Saint Paul of the Cross Passionist Retreat and Conference Center, Detroit, Michigan.

Scripture:

Hosea 11:1-4, 8e-9
Matthew 10:7-15

Reflection:

“Provide yourselves with no gold or silver, not even with coppers for your purses.” The way Jesus sent his disciples out made them totally dependent on the hospitality of others. When one avails themselves on another for their time, conversation or “breaking bread” we are drawing out a gift from that person, namely some form of hospitality. When I worked with “at-risk” young adults on the streets, or in public high schools, people usually were not expecting to “give of themselves in a hospitable way.” It could have been a “learning” for someone who had little confidence in themselves, and they stayed away from others, sometimes with hostility. For such a person isolated and alone, it was like “someone approached them, a stranger, asking them for some space, time, or attention.”

Jesus suggested that his disciples would look for a house where they could stay, “to seek out someone worthy.”

At the end of each Sunday Liturgy at Our Lady of Lourdes in Birmingham, Alabama, the people are deliberately and intentionally sent forth “with their mission” to seek out someone worthy. The difference between a “parish of convenience” and a “mission parish” is that those sent forth from a mission parish have a deliberate and intentional purpose in mind with regards to sharing the Good News during the course of the week with whomever crosses our paths.

God is never absent from any place in the world. Hospitality is the first sign of God’s presence.

Fr. Alex Steinmiller, C.P., is the administrator at Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic Church in Birmingham, Alabama.

Scripture:

Hosea 10:1-3, 7-8, 12
Matthew 10:1-7

Reflection:

“Jesus summoned his Twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits, to drive them out and to cure every disease and every illness.” Matthew 10:1

Jesus “sent out,” (apostello), these Twelve to proclaim that “The Kingdom of heaven is at hand” (Mt 10:7).  This is an urgent calling.  The coming Kingdom is imminent, about to break through at any moment, and there is work to be done.  This includes the driving out of unclean spirits.  This pressing message and mission was not the exclusive work of the first apostles only.  No.   It is ours, too.

And where do those unclean spirits reside?  Look around.  They haunt us, possess us everywhere.  They look like greed.  The United States, along with the other 10 percent of the wealthiest nations, consume nearly 60 percent of the world’s resources.  Or like gun violence.  In the first six months of this year alone, the United States suffered through 154 mass shootings (involving at least four victims), more than any other country in the world.  Or the slaughter of innocents.  More than 900,000 unborn children were aborted last year.  Tough numbers to swallow as we sip our $5 latte while more than 14 million children go to bed – and to school – hungry.

St. John Paul II called these unclean spirits the “structures of sin,” sin beyond individual wrongdoing, and yet sin in which we have corporate responsibility.  And just as Jesus “sent out” the Twelve, so too did John Paul II prophetically send us out to drive out unclean spirits.  How?  By taking action; by doing something, however insignificant it may seem, by resisting, correcting, or countering that structural sin, that unclean spirit.

Christ sends all of us.  No exceptions, no excuses.  We begin at those places where the world touches us, and where we touch the world most immediately, in those places where it hurts.  God’s creation is innately good.  But this world is broken and in crucial need of mending.  We are sent out not only to fix those damaged places, but to improve upon it, to bring it closer to the harmonious and loving condition in which God created it.  Only as we work to heal our small part of the world, will we make real the words Jesus summons us to proclaim: “The Kingdom of heaven is at hand!”

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

Scripture:

Hosea 8:4-7, 11-13
Matthew 9:32-38

Reflection:

I recently read a fascinating chapter by Bryan Stevenson in his book Just Mercy. Bryan says:

“I guess I’d always known but never fully considered that being broken is what makes us human. We all have our reasons. Sometimes we’re fractured by the choices we make; sometimes we’re shattered by things we would never have chosen. But our brokenness is also the source of our common humanity, the basis for our shared search for comfort, meaning, and healing. Our shared vulnerability and imperfection nurtures and sustains our capacity for compassion.

We have a choice. We can embrace our humanness, which means embracing our broken natures and the compassion that remains our best hope for healing. Or we can deny our brokenness, forswear compassion, and, as a result, deny our own humanity. . . .

So many of us have become afraid and angry. We’ve become so fearful and vengeful that we’ve thrown away children, discarded the disabled, and sanctioned the imprisonment of the sick and the weak—not because they are a threat to public safety or beyond rehabilitation but because we think it makes us seem tough, less broken… We’ve submitted to the harsh instinct to crush those among us whose brokenness is most visible. But simply punishing the broken—walking away from them or hiding them from sight—only ensures that they remain broken and we do, too. There is no wholeness outside of our reciprocal humanity. . . .

Our country is so polarized, and I see it as I travel. Just a few examples: People participating in peaceful rallies are spat upon, called names, and accused of defending criminals. Regardless of where you stand on issues, is this the best and most Christian way to debate its merits?

I talked to a young woman who was walking down the street wearing a hijab when it was ripped from her head by a group of young men who taunted her, called her a terrorist, and told her to go back to her own country. But she is a law-abiding, tax-paying citizen born and raised in the U.S. and no longer feels safe in her own community. Does the Church call us to condemn those of other faiths, abuse them, and cause them to fear us?

A professional woman told me that she thinks all the people demanding their rights are crazy. She says she has never experienced discrimination or gender bias, she had to work hard to achieve the success she has, and so she believes that everyone else is making it up, looking for a handout, lazy, or too sensitive. She said it does no good to talk to people like a single mother trying to make ends meet, a teenager who lives in a section of town dominated by gangs, or any of the others who claim injustice. Would Jesus fail to stop, listen, and truly hear the cries of the poor and marginalized whose experience is different than one’s own?

Finally, and most disturbing, the desperate people presenting themselves at our borders are categorically labeled as murderers and rapists who infest our country. There is no compassion for what would compel them to undertake such a perilous journey with uncertain outcome, nor recognition that immigrants (whether legal or illegal) who commit crimes make up only a tiny fraction of that population. Would Jesus dehumanize entire classes of displaced people and refugees, tear their families apart, and deport them without a hearing?

When Jesus looked at the crowds, the Gospel says, “His heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.” Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest.” Regardless of where you are on the political spectrum, so much of what is happening is against established Catholic doctrines, and as followers of Jesus Christ we need to speak out.

As always, I have to begin with myself. It is so much easier and more expedient to dismiss those who disagree with me and have nothing to do with them or to accuse them of acting under the influence of Satan, just as Jesus was accused of doing. It is infinitely easier to turn away those who are struggling, mistreated, living in poverty, or on the margins than it is to work to correct the societal problems that got them there. It is easier to dehumanize refugees and migrants than to look in their eyes, hear their stories, and enact just immigration laws.  It is easier to stay safe and make sure I am not a target of hateful speech than it is to speak truth to power. But Jesus calls, and I am reminded that all that is necessary for evil to triumph is for enough good people to do nothing.

Can I be a laborer for God’s harvest? Can you? What specific actions can I take this week to protest against injustice, call out bad behavior and unacceptable tactics, and shine a light on unethical practices? Let’s work for a harvest of justice and peace, let’s join together as a prophetic voice, and let’s do it now!

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:

Hosea 2:16, 17b-18, 21-22
Matthew 9:18-26

Reflection:

Summer Concerts of Faith and Hope

We can imagine our readings today as a summer concert full of feeling. A romantic melody captures the joy of Hosea hearing once again the words of his estranged wife, “My Husband”. We move on then to a lullaby that plays the themes of the Beatitudes in Matthew. We are in touch with our ‘Jewishness’, reminded of the teachings handed down from Moses to a Chosen People. We are the light of the world, we follow Jesus who has fulfilled the Law and did away with nothing. We care for the poor, fast and pray; we forgive and we make ours Jesus’ words: what you want people to do to you, so also do to them.

This is relaxing, thoughtful music indeed. But the heart of our concert strikes out in  modern, stark music that tells the story of two of Jesus’ miracles. They are familiar tunes made popular by Mark. Everyone hums them all the time. But Matthew is different. Where Mark bubbled over as he told of two women to whom the miracle of being life givers was stripped away and then restored, Matthew leaves us stripped! Gone is the restoration of their gift, gone too is the lovely, ‘give the girl something to eat’, with the joy of feeding her and her contentment, and the certainty that she is going to grow strong. No, for Matthew his music is, let’s see….a harp and saxophone for the woman with the hemorrhage and a french horn and a banjo for our young girl. The music tells of faith, salvation and resurrection. Indeed, after twelve long years of suffering the woman can say to herself, ‘if I touch his garment I will be healed’. How the sax answers the harp, ‘Your faith has returned your health’. And the french horn of Jesus’ voice overcame the laughter of the mourners, and the fun of the banjo played as Jesus took her hand and the girl arose. And played a bit more so we could imagine what the parents and disciples of Jesus then did.

Our concert is quick! But we end with two new melodies to carry with us.

Perseverance. Like the people we meet who benefit from the miracles of Jesus – twelve long years, a child’s death, two blind men, a demon, the list is as endless as every person. A drum roll reminds us that all of the miracles of Jesus find their full meaning in the miracle of the Paschal Mystery, Jesus’ passion, death and resurrection. We all need salvation. We need resurrection. We need our faith in Jesus.

We end with our opening music of the love story of Hosea that now introduces Mary, Mother of Hope. Today is a feast celebrated in Passionist communities. Its origin goes to the early days of the congregation when Thomas Sturzzieri, CP carried with him a picture of Mary, Mother Hope wherever he conducted parish missions. This devotion to Mary grew in Passionist spirituality and this picture became popular in the monasteries.

On notes of love we remember today’s miracles. We ask for faith. We see our mother, a model of hope, who gentles our perseverance with hope. She brings her love and understanding as a mother to those areas that await Jesus’ miracles.

Quiet.

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