Claire Smith

Scripture:

Deuteronomy 26:16-19
Matthew 5:43-48

 

Reflection:

The Kindness and Goodness of God

That you may be children of your heavenly Father, for he makes his sun rise on the bad and the good, and causes rain to fall on the just and the unjust. Mt 5:45

I have been long moved by these words of Jesus.   He reflects the gentle and kind manner which His Heavenly Father deals with humans!  Kindness is a beautiful virtue which makes present the gentle presence of God.   Kindness means to give when help is needed, but has no demand of justice.   We speak too much of justice when a far truer word is benevolence!

Some years ago I had to get my picture taken for my driver’s license.  In jest I told the lady: “Do me justice young lady!”  Without a smile she said:  “It is not justice you need but mercy!”   What a hard and cruel world we would live in if we were given strict justice!  The gentle rain and life giving sun would never be felt if we lived in a strict atmosphere of justice!  Most of us would be quite shocked at what a sorry mess we would be in if God would give us what we deserve.   God owes us nothing not even life itself.

We are creatures of God’s kindness.  Every breath and heart beat we take is a pure gift of God.    The Biblical idea of the word justice is not so much a “quid pro quo” but doing the right thing to another.   The last thing most of us need is justice when we face the final judgment.  What we need is a “God Who is rich in mercy because of His great love for us.”  He is rich in mercy which is the source of hope for those of us who are very poor indeed!  St Anselm remarked about a thousand years ago “without mercy there is no way by which we can be saved”!

Fr. Bob Weiss, C.P. preaches Parish Missions and is a member of the Passionist Community in Louisville, Kentucky.

Scripture:

Ezekiel 18:21-28
Matthew 5:20-26

Reflection:

In our first reading for today, God speaks through the prophet Ezekiel about repentance and conversion. God is willing to give life to those who turn away from sin and start following God’s commandments. God will not hold their past against them. This is good news for us! God does not hold our past sins against us! For our part, we are to turn away from doing those things that take us apart from God.

But then comes a more difficult part to hear. For the one who turns away from being virtuous, and begins doing evil, God will not remember their virtuous deeds, and they “shall die.”

Most of us, I think, do virtuous deeds, but we also sin. We strive to do better, but we’re not perfect. But if we were to strive doing evil, not only would God have forgotten our good deeds, so would we! We would have put aside our relationship to God to choose something else. We would have chosen death.

In reflecting on words like this I find that I need to remember that we are not locked in to how we live with regard to sin and virtue. There are always opportunities, especially during Lent, for us to repent and turn back to God.

In our Gospel reading, Jesus challenges us to extend the mercy God has shown us to one another. Not only are we to refrain from actually killing someone, we are to refrain from getting angry. We know too well how people let their anger build up to the point of doing violence. Jesus also connects our repentance toward God to our reconciliation with each other: “…if you bring your gift to the altar, and there recall that your brother [or sister] has anything against you, leave your gift at the altar, go first and be reconciled with your brother [or sister], and then come and offer your gift.”

When we choose to turn back to God, we choose life. When we choose reconciliation and forgiveness, we choose life. May we, “with the help of God’s grace” always choose life.

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

Memorial of the Chair of Peter

Scripture:

1 Peter 5:1-4
Matthew 16:13-19

Reflection:

There is a story of a man who could find very little meaning in life.  He was something of a drifter who moved from town to town.  One day he stumbled into a small village at the base of a very high mountain.   Completely confused, he looked at the winding pathway up the mountain and saw a long line of people stretching from the top of the mountain almost to the bottom.  Upon inquiry, he discovered they were all going to the top of the mountain where a very Holy Man lived in an ancient monastery.  They were looking to the Holy Man to gain the wisdom to a wholesome and holy life.  The drifter decided he needed this wisdom and got in line.  Others, before and after him, had brought food and water for the days long journey up the mountain.  They readily shared with him until all ran out.  By then they had bonded,  so the drifter volunteered to go back to the town for supplies as long as the others saved his place in line.  This routine repeated itself several more times as they neared the top of the mountain.  The drifter had grown muscular and lean with his trips up and down the mountain carrying supplies.  More importantly, he found that he was more concerned about the men and women around him than he was for himself.  It was at this juncture that it came his turn to see the Holy Man.  He approached the door, knocked twice and waited anxiously.  An old man with frazzled hair and beard in a rough woolen garment answered the door and asked what he wanted.  He said he was here to see the Holy Man.  The old man said, “Come with me.”  The drifter followed the old man down several long corridors and finally stood before a large door.  The old man led him out, said goodbye and was about to shut the door when the drifter said he needed to see Holy Man to obtain the wisdom of a wholesome and happy life.  The old man replied, “I am the Holy Man.  You have seen the Holy Man.  Everything you need to know about a wholesome, happy life you learned as you made your way up the mountain.  Go and be happy.”

The moral of the story is sometimes you stumble into the very person and set of circumstances that you need and you don’t even know it until one day, in a moment of clarity, it all makes sense.  This is what today’s feast is all about for Peter.  As a disciple, Peter has followed Jesus about day in and day out.  He has heard Jesus teach and preach the Kingdom.  He has seen Jesus make the blind see, the deaf hear, the lame walk, lepers made clean, and even the dead return to life.  All the while, these were individual, isolated wonders to Peter’s mind.  Then one day – the very day of this gospel passage – all of this came together and made complete and absolute sense allowing Peter to exclaim, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.”  Life would never be the same for Peter after this moment.  To be sure, there would be hardships;  there would be ups and downs;  there would be sin and forgiveness; there would be everything that constitutes a fully human life for Peter.  Life, however, would always be, from this moment on,  wholesome and happy.  He had made the journey up the mountain and had seen the Holy Man – the Messiah – and life would be forever changed.

The change came in the commission Jesus gave Peter as the rock upon which He would build His church.  Peter had learned shepherding as he made his way around with the Lord Jesus.  He had learned the secret to the wholesomeness and the happiness of life.  Now Jesus commissions Peter to bring that learning to others, to believers, to all of God’s People.  This is precisely what Peter is doing in our first reading today.

Perhaps today is our day for an enlightening moment.  Perhaps Peter is saying to us, “Have a seat!!!  Sit for a while in my chair.  Through my eyes, see Jesus as our Messiah.  Through my eyes and ears, see and hear in the life of Jesus the fulfillment of the Messianic prophesies.  Through my eyes, see the expanse of Church history proclaiming Jesus as Messiah and bringing wholesomeness and happiness to all seeking the wisdom of life from one who has been there.  From the Chair of Peter, we discover the fundamentals of our belief and our apostolic responsibility to make that faith known through the wholesomeness and happiness of our own lives.

Fr. Richard Burke, CP, is a member of St. Paul of the Cross Province.  He lives at St. Ann’s Monastery in Scranton, Pennsylvania.

Scripture:

Jonah 3:1-10
Luke 11:29-32

Reflection:

Seeking ‘signs’ seems to be a natural need in the average person. We all seek signs that we are going in the right direction (be in a journey or relationship) – signs to reassure us, to direct us, to convince us and to draw us on to further investment of self, trust or time and effort. We seek sings that give us a sense of ‘feedback’ – signs that tell us that what we are doing or what we are trying to convey to another is ‘working’, i.e. that it is being heard or being understood.

Sometimes it is not us looking for a sign, but giving them! We all give signs to another that we are thinking of them, that they mean a great deal to us, that we are supporting them.  Sometimes such signs are akin to sending ‘a messenger’ – we telegraph signs of our interest in another before we dare to approach them and convey this same message by word of mouth. Films love to portray this theme especially when it concerns developing relationships – think of the dilemmas and dynamics of adolescents contemplating asking a member of the opposite sex for a ‘date’. They signal their intentions by all sorts of means to the one they desire (and look in turn for signs that their own ‘signals’ are being received and reciprocated) – all before acting!

So we need not be surprised that in our gospel passage today we meet this dynamic in the crowds who were attracted to Jesus. They had not yet ‘let go’ of this same need for some kind of reassurance or even ‘proof’ that what Jesus was saying and offering, was indeed true and would justify them making any act of faith or belief in the vision he presented.

But Jesus was offering and still does offer us a new kind of relationship between God and humankind, a relationship that is based on a new dynamic – one that does not lend itself to signs and proofs.

Jesus presented a vision of God as a Father who wanted to enter into a new, deeply personal and everlasting way of being with us. The relationship with God that Jesus spoke of was a freely offered gift to us, something unmerited by our efforts.

Yes, such a vision and hope did ask of us a fundamental surrender and a leap into the unknown; it was a gift that required assent on our part, and yet was underpinned by the promise of God – a promise that God would be faithful to us eternally.

Jesus not only revealed God’s essential nature (love) and offered the relationship possibility to all, but he also modelled the human response to God in the face of such an offer. By his own life, example, fidelity and living out of the relationship itself he enabled those touched by his Spirit to see both God’s love offered and fully responded to.

So if there is to be any ‘sign’ of God’s desire to be with us, any ‘sign’ of God’s faithfulness to us and any ‘sign’ of God’s love for each of us, we only need to took to Jesus and especially to his passion, death and resurrection.

And if we wish to see any ‘sign’ of what it means to enter into such a relationship, again we only have to look to Jesus as our model and perfect example of our own capacity to fully give ourselves to God.

While the death of Jesus might seem a “Jonah-like sign of contradiction” (in that it turns human images of success on their head), when viewed through the lens of the resurrection it becomes the greatest sign of God’s love for us. Truly the only sign we will ever need!

 

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:

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

Reflection:

Behold, now is a very acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation. 2 Corinthians 6:2b

When I read the readings for today’s Mass, I was reminded of the Joni Mitchell song, Both Sides Now, made popular by Judy Collins in 1970, my ordination year. I remember incorporating it into our youth retreats. What beautiful lyrics and what a haunting melody! It was a song whose message led us into the temptation of looking at love and life as an either/or reality: illusion (unreal expectations) or real life (our weak humanity). It led to a dualistic view of life. If one chooses to live a life of illusion, one does not live a real life. The song concludes: “It’s life’s illusions I recall, I don’t know life at all.”

The readings for today’s Mass invite us to look at life, Eternal Life, from both sides, from the side of what not to do and from the side of what to do and to choose them both! God does not put before us an either/or reality, a reality that leads to failure and despair. Rather, God shows us a different path. In the words of St. Paul in 1 Corinthians 12:31b, we read: “I shall show you a still more excellent way.” The more excellent way, it turns out, is the way of love!

The struggle between choosing the good and what is evil is not a theoretical struggle. It is an everyday struggle, with everyday examples. Let us look at what the first reading is telling us not to do: steal, lie, defraud, curse, give scandal, scapegoat others for our own faults. These “do nots” are very explicitly stated in the first reading.

What happens to us when we see wrong-doing in ourselves and in others? Do we give up? Do we collapse? Do we tolerate our sinful humanity in ourselves and in others? We now arrive at the very reason why we have Lent in our Church calendar!

The more excellent way to live is to denounce sin and accept grace!

I remember having a conversation with a “lapsed” Catholic who had a conversion in another faith community. The reason he left the Catholic church, he told me, was because we Catholics never preached about sin, and especially about his sinful behavior. He drank without moderation, he slept with anyone who accepted his advances, he stole, he cheated and so forth. I tried not to be too defensive. But I did remind him of readings like the ones we have in today’s Mass. Maybe he wasn’t ready to hear them. Have we become blind and deaf to the reality of sin in our lives?

Do we really not know what it means to give food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, visit the imprisoned? Do we really not know the Jesus who is sick and dying, who is hungry, who is without shelter and who is afraid and shivering, people who may be living within our parishes and communities? I think we do. We may even know some by name. However, that doesn’t mean that sometimes we don’t feel helpless and powerless to help, but I believe that we know this Jesus.

Let us not be led astray by those who have turned their back to the Jesus of the Gospel. Let us choose the more excellent way, the Way of Love. We’ve looked at Life from both sides now and we choose Love!

Fr. Clemente Barrón, C.P. is a member of Christ the King Community in Citrus Heights, California. 

Scripture:

Genesis 9:8-15
1 Peter 3:18-22
Mark 1:12-15

Reflection:

Repent and follow the gospel…

 Lent is upon us, each year with the first Sunday of Lent we remember that following his baptism, Jesus enters the desert where he is tempted for 40 days.  This year we hear Mark’s version.  In usual Markan form, he doesn’t say much, he doesn’t give us much detail – like Sargent Friday in Dragnet, Mark gives us just the facts!

 At our baptism, we became a new creation, clothed ourselves in white and accepted our mission as disciples!  Oh, that it would be that easy!  But life happens, we too are tempted, we too meet wild beasts and angels on our life journey.  We too find ourselves in the desert – for 40 days or 40 years…

But Lent is a season to journey in the desert WITH Jesus.  Lent is an opportunity to look honestly at ourselves, what are our strengths, our weaknesses; where do we succeed at our efforts to love as Jesus loved and where do we miss the mark, where do we need to ‘reboot’ and start over.  Often, in our efforts to look honestly at ourselves, we default to judging, criticizing, guilt and shame.  But Lent reminds us to ‘take Jesus with us’ Jesus doesn’t judge or criticize, he simply invites us to ‘name it, and claim it, and allow him to transform it’.  Lent reminds us, “to stick to the facts” and don’t go down the rabbit hole of unhealthy guilt and shame.

On Ash Wednesday we were ‘marked’ with ashes and heard one of these two phrases:  you are dust and to dust you shall return or Repent and follow the gospel.  The kingdom of God is at hand…Lent invites us to ‘let go’ of whatever it is that keeps us from building the Kingdom of God.  What ‘facts’ does Jesus want to show you this Lent?

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

Ash Wednesday

Scripture:

Joel 2:12-18
2 Corinthians 5:20-6:2
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18

Reflection:

It is a human desire to want meaning in our lives and our deaths. We want to make a difference, and to leave a legacy behind. I remember riding in the car from the church to the cemetery on the day of my husband’s funeral, and I was shocked that people were going about their daily lives – shopping, gardening, and playing in the yard. I thought the world should stop, that flags should be lowered to half-mast, and everyone should note the death of this wonderful man.

After John died, our friends and colleagues were determined to make sure he did not “die in vain.” I’ve heard that phrase used so often, as we build memorials or foundations, rally to win a game or a season in their memory, or place their name on a building or street. In this case, John and I had done a lot of work with high school youth. So the town’s Jaycees created a scholarship in John’s name that would be given annually to a high school senior who showed outstanding service to others. I was deeply touched; especially when the first scholarship was awarded to a young woman we were particularly fond of who had truly stood out.

Yet, it has now been 35 years since John died, and 29 years since I moved away from the town. Neither the young people who receive the scholarship today nor most of the people giving the scholarship have a clue who he was or what his life meant. As I think about all that happened then and since, I’ve come to see that our lives are indeed lived in vain if all we leave behind are scholarships, awards, and recognitions with our names on them. Our lives and deaths are never in vain if we touch people’s hearts.

The young people John touched were forever changed by him, and that is how he lives on. I am a different person because John loved me, and that is how he lives on. His son is a funny, gracious, caring man, and that is how he lives on. Even though John’s life was far too brief, he did not live in vain, in ways that are more meaningful than any recognition or scholarship.

We are told today not to receive the grace of God in vain. While some of us may be called to do so, that doesn’t mean we have to proselytize on the street corners, or even work for the church. It doesn’t mean we have to lead fund-raising drives or be in the news. It certainly doesn’t mean we need to ensure we garner attention and praise for our service or our faith practices.

In fact, more often than not, it means we lead quiet lives focused on being fully transparent instruments of the grace we have received. It means we rend our hearts, not our garments, and allow God to change and mold us. It means we pray constantly, give alms, and love without measure. It means we consciously look for the divine in every person, even those who are different from ourselves, and that we treat each one with the dignity and respect due to Christ himself. It means we receive our “recognition” in smiles, hugs, and the knowledge that the love we give will be given to someone else in return.

As we begin Lent today, perhaps we can refocus on what it truly important, and renew our commitment to serve. May we live each day conscious of our privilege and responsibility as children of Love itself, and allow God to form us through this holy season, so we may not receive the grace of God in vain.

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:

Leviticus 13:1-2, 44-46
1 Corinthians 10:31-11:1
Mark 1:40-45

Reflection:

Today’s gospel is a story of risks, reversals and joyful disobedience.

In the times of Jesus, lepers were outcasts, condemned to live in isolation, ostracized from family, community, worship, marginalized even from hope.  Levitical law also required them to remain a safe distance from the general population in order avoid spreading their contagious disease.  Some believed that leprosy was God’s punishment for sin.

But the leper in today’s gospel is strikingly bold.  He disobeys Levitical restrictions and comes so close that Jesus can touch him.  “If you choose,” he tells Jesus, “you can make me clean.”  Without hesitation, with compassion, boldly, even recklessly Jesus touched the leper and said: “I do choose.  Be made clean.”  Immediately, the leprosy left him.  He ordered him to tell no one about this miracle, but to present himself to the priest to confirm that he is clean.  The man disobeys.  He does not go immediately to the priest.  He does not remain silent to the miracle.  Instead, he went out and proclaimed it everywhere.

By contrast, Jesus reversed places with the once leprous man.  Jesus, who had traveled freely everywhere, now was forced into isolation to avoid the crowds.  He now was forced to the margins.  In other words, Jesus took the place of the man he made clean.  Love always says and does what is necessary and works out the consequences later.

There is another reversal to consider.  By touching the leper, Jesus should have been contaminated.  However, it is not the leper who is contagious, but Jesus.  The leper does not transmit his disease to Jesus, but Jesus whose contagion of love transformed the leper to wholeness, making him clean, medically, spiritually and socially.  The Franciscan spiritual writer, Richard Rohr, says “pain that is not transformed is transmitted.”  Jesus lovingly touched his isolation and pain, and transformed him.

We are called imitate the leper’s bold faith and Jesus’ loving touch.  Like them, It demands of us that we risk crossing barriers and boundaries of convenience and comfort zone in order to reach out to the other, the one living in pain or loneliness.  Such faith and love begin with the words:  “I do choose.”

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