Claire Smith

Scripture:

Ecclesiastes 1:2-11
Luke 9:7-9

Reflection:

A philosopher named Heraclitus in ancient Greece once stood beside a river and arrived at the thoughtful conclusion that, “You cannot step into the same river twice.”  His insight said that change was central to the universe.  Everything was changing just as the waters of the river changed constantly as fresh waters seep into the flow.  When I studied philosophy, my first reaction: this insight plus twenty-five cents would get you a cup of coffee (coffee was a lot cheaper when I studied philosophy).  Then again, perhaps this was a pretty perceptive principle recognized by observing nature.  In today’s reading from Ecclesiastes, Qoheleth observes the realities of nature and comes to an entirely opposite conclusion.  No matter where you look, no matter what you do, no matter what natural forces are at work, everything is always the same.  It is human vanity to think otherwise or pretend we are able to figure it all out.  Everything moves in a circle and arrives at the same place.

We also have Herod in the gospel today.  He is curious about Jesus and the happenings which have reached his ears but is basically content with questions rather than answers.  Maybe his curiosity will be satisfied and maybe not – either is acceptable.

How might we reflect on these two very different readings?  We might consider the possibility that they are inviting us to reflect more deeply upon our lives and their meaning while understanding and accepting that we will continue to live in the mystery of our covenant with God.  Qoheleth is speaking for an exiled Jewish community who have lived for a very long time in silence with God.  In exile, the divine voice grew softer and then non-existent.  They could not hear or see God in their ritual lives anymore so they looked to nature only to see realities moving in circles, never to lead anywhere in promise or in hope.  They could not find God there, they could not hear God speak and so they wondered where God had gone. All seemed meaningless.  To think otherwise was human vanity.

On the other hand, the gospel is teaming with meaning.  Everything and everyone is tinged with the electricity of possibilities.  The Gospel era is one of promises being fulfilled on a daily basis.  Jesus is making the entire collection of Hebrew Scriptures come alive with hope, expectation, love and possibilities of a more intimate life with the Father.  The atmosphere is heavy with Divine Presence.  Herod recognizes it but cannot make heads or tails out of the message.  He is curious but not willing to see and listen with the eyes and ears of one who reflects upon the meaning of his own life.  In waiting to see, Herod misses the boat.  Jesus is inviting all to embark on the pilgrimage to the Kingdom and Herod remains a bystander.

In our self-reflections, we might want to avoid the pitfalls of both Qoheleth and Herod.  By the grace of our baptism, our lives have forever been joined with the Lord Jesus in the journey towards the Kingdom.  We walk by faith rather than by sight.  Along the way, we are asked to listen to the divine voice as God directs our pathways in lives of love, compassion, caring, justice, humility and generosity.  Qoheleth was looking to figure God out.  He was looking to remake God into Qoheleth’s design for how things should be.  He found himself incapable of living in the mystery of God’s presence to humanity.  Consequently, he found himself going in circles.  We might admit that the temptation to join in Qoheleth’s thought patterns sometimes touches us when we struggle to see and hear God in the circumstances of our lives.  At the same time, we might find ourselves tempted to sit on the side lines like Herod rather than engage ourselves in the mystery of our life with the Divine Presence.  It takes energy to live with the dynamic mystery of God-with-us.  Qoheleth’s was sapped by the harshness of exile life while Herod held his energy in reserve with a wait-and-see attitude.  The true disciple is invited to remain energetically engaged in the mystery of God’s union with us.

In this moment of our lives, are we engaged?  Do we see the dynamism of life – that we are moving forward towards the Kingdom as energized disciples of the Lord Jesus?  Do we see that it is this union and this movement forward that gives true meaning to our lives and the circumstances we encounter even in those moments when we might be a little deaf or a little blind?

Perhaps we might take another look at the principle enunciated by Heraclitus.  Placing it in our faith context, we might appreciate the maxim that change – in this case movement toward a deeper union with the Lord – is of the essence of who we are.

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

Feast of St. Matthew, Apostle

Scripture:

Ephesians 4:1-7, 11-13
Matthew 9:9-13

Reflection:

St. Matthew recommends himself to us today because he represents what so many of us have had to do in the course of our lives: rework our relationship to the demands of our religious faith.  Few of us have an unblemished track record of fidelity to the faith into which we were incorporated by our baptism. Those of us who are concerned about this do well to reflect on the saint whose memory we recall today.

For we value the memory of the apostle St. Matthew. He had the privilege of being one of the first disciples called by Jesus Christ, not long after Peter, Andrew, James and John.  He might have been one of the better educated among this group, to the extent that his job as tax collector likely placed certain requirements on him that would not have been called for by the background of the other apostles, such as Peter and Andrew, for example.  And this seems somewhat substantiated by the way he organized his recollections, in later years, about Jesus in such a way that it made its way into that venerable collection of memories and recollections called gospels.  For we now refer to the gospel of Matthew, along with that of Mark, Luke and John.

And his gospel is noteworthy because it has the stamp of Jewishness about it, perhaps more so than the other three, because Matthew was likely quite intent on establishing his credentials as a loyal son of Abraham, given his occupation as tax-collector and thereby a collaborator, in some form or fashion, with the Roman occupiers of the land.  That would not have endeared him to his fellow-Jews, and probably tainted his reputation as he collected Jewish tax money on behalf of the Roman occupiers.  So he may have welcomed the invitation Jesus held out to him to join the ranks of this already well-known Jewish spokesperson. Matthew may have seen this invitation as a way of reintegrating himself with his Jewish background.

He is an instance of what our reading from the letter to the Ephesians addresses today: the theme of unity amid diversity.  For St. Paul, incarcerated in prison, writes on the theme of unity, urging the church in Ephesus “to preserve the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace”, and later on in that same letter Paul vindicates the already growing diversification in the church of Ephesus (apostles, prophets, evangelists, etc.), not as detrimental to the unity of the Christian faith they profess, but as contributing to it.  As a result, Matthew too may have felt vindicated by this variety in the church.

So it must have been a relief for him to leave his customs post at the invitation of this young popular leader, even to the extent of throwing a party for Jesus and His disciples, along with some of the crowd that had been the friends and associates of Matthew: tax collectors and sinners.  Jesus accepted his invitation and seemed quite comfortable with the table fellowship that developed.

So Matthew left his mark on the early beginnings of the church.  His gospel reflects the relationship of our early Christian church with the Jewish religious faith.  It is an important source for noting details of this relationship, and much credit for this goes to Matthew, who, in the process of purging any misgivings about his own Jewish background, serves to illustrate the example of an early relationship between Judaism and Christianity.

Fr. Sebastian MacDonald, C.P. is a member of the Passionist formation community at Catholic Theological Union, Chicago. 

Memorial of Saint Andrew Kim Taegŏn, priest and martyr and Saint Paul Chŏng Hasang, martyr, and their companions, martyrs

Scripture:

Proverbs 8: 1-7, 10-13
Luke 8: 19-21

Reflection:

Many of us are familiar with and inspired by the stories of heroic men and women who have lived remarkable lives of faith.  Their witness to Christ and to God’s presence in the world model for us various ways to be faithful disciples of Jesus.  The saints we celebrate today are just such wonderful people.  They are St. Andrew Kim Taegon, St. Paul Chong Hasang and their companions.  They were all martyred during the major persecutions of the Christian community in 19th century Korea.  St. Andrew is singled out from the group because he was the first Korean Catholic Priest and St. Paul Chong Ha Sang was an important lay leader and catechist during that time.  It would seem that the “companions” were ordinary, everyday Catholics rounded up by the government in its attempt to stamp out the Christian faith.  All were put to death in a most violent and public way.

By the time these Catholics were martyred, Christianity had been growing in Korea for more than seventy-five years.  It is believed that Christianity had been brought into Korea by some Christian Japanese soldiers in the latter part of the 18th century.   The Christian Japanese soldiers baptized the first Korean Christians and the Christian community began to grow quickly.  By the time the first foreign priest arrived in Korea in 1836 there was already a substantial Christian community flourishing there.  The Korean Catholic Church is the only known Catholic Christian community that first developed completely from the witness and work of lay Christians.

The rulers in Korea were not at all pleased to have this foreign religion thriving in their country.  At first they just discouraged it but soon enough outlawed this practice and began to actively persecute anyone who took it up.  As Christians were arrested, tortured and put to death the Church quickly moved underground

St. Andrew’s parents, members of the Korean nobility, were an important part of that early community and secretly remained faithful to their life with Christ.  Andrew, born in 1821, was baptized at fifteen and soon expressed his desire to become a priest.  He traveled to Macau to attend the seminary and was ordained in 1845.  He was the first Korean to become a priest and returned home shortly after his ordination to help organize the Church and bring the sacraments to the faithful.  He ministered in Korea only a year before he was arrested and put to death.

There were intense persecutions of Christians in Korea in 1839, 1846, 1866 and 1867 and 103 Christians were martyred for their faith.  We celebrate these heroic martyrs on this day.

May their faith and courage inspire us to live our lives faithful to the Gospel and have the strength to be fearless witness for Christ in our everyday lives.

 

Fr. Michael Higgins, C.P. is the director of Mater Dolorosa Passionist Retreat Center, Sierra Madre, California.

Scripture:

1 Corinthians 15:35-37, 42-49
Luke 8:4-15

Reflection

God’s word—God’s very being, God’s very life—is hidden away in each of us like a seed waiting to sprout, take root, and blossom into something truly good and beautiful. That is the message of today’s gospel, the well-known parable of the sower and the seed. Like any gospel, it’s good news because it says that the God who loves us and lives within us wants to come fully to life in each of us.

But, like any parable, there is much in this gospel story that makes us uneasy. Indeed, we may even protest that what Jesus narrates is horribly unfair because the seeds have no say in where they are sown; where they fall seems entirely at the whim of the rather careless sower. Some seeds are trampled before they even have a chance to grow. Some land on rocky ground; they struggle to live, but die from lack of moisture. Other seeds are flung among thorns where any promise of life is slowly choked out of them. Very few seeds find themselves in soil where they can grow and blossom and flourish as seeds are meant to do. We are prompted to ask: “Why didn’t the sower do a better job with the sowing?”

And yet, before we object too much, isn’t it true that we can see ourselves in each example of sowing? Don’t we sometimes “receive the word with joy” but “fall away in time of temptation”? And aren’t we sometimes like those that Jesus says hear God’s word but allow it to wither in them because of the “anxieties and riches and pleasures of life”? Perhaps the parable’s point is that just as we do not sow the seed, neither do we harvest it. We should, as Jesus teaches, embrace God’s word “with a generous and good heart,” doing all we can to nurture and care for it. But ultimately a fruitful harvest—God coming fully to life in us—is much more God’s work than our own.

Paul Wadell is Professor of Theology and Religious Studies at St. Norbert College in De Pere, Wisconsin, and a member of the extended Passionist family.

Scripture:

1 Corinthians 15:12-20
Luke 8:1-3

Reflection:

Luke introduces Mary Magdalene for the first time. She, who earlier in the Gospel had washed the feet of Jesus with her tears, and dried his feet with her hair. He cured her of several illnesses. Accompanying her is Joanna, the wife of Chuza, Herod’s financial steward. And Suzanna, of whom no more is known. What we do know is that they ministered to Jesus out of their resources, which implies that they had some wealth. We are told they “provided for” Jesus and the Twelve’s ministry. “Provided for” is the word used to serve. A rich theological concept. Mary Magdalene and Joanna will be mentioned as being at the foot of the cross and at the tomb. Some commentators think this passage is a prelude to the healing of Jairus’ daughter and the healing of the woman with hemorrhages.

Tucked away in this periscope are Luke’s favorite themes. One, the use of possessions and wealth, Two, the two groups who ministered with Jesus, the Twelve Disciples, and this group of women who out of their resources supported the ministry of Jesus and the Twelve. Three, the diversity of persons included in Jesus’ ministry. Luke tells us Jesus had the ability of taking the most diverse personalities and welding them together into a corps of learning and ministry.

This talent of Jesus is a hallmark for the Church even to today. Students of religion tell us the great contribution of the Church for the world today is that the closer and the more diverse the people we include in our embrace, the more like God we are. Robert Frost tells us that, “Fences make good neighbors!” The Gospel tells us that is not true. Fences separate us from one another. The fewer the fences we have in our lives, the easier it is for us to befriend one another.

Today, September 16, is the feast of St. Stephen of Hungary. He was a king dedicated to the poor. His feast day reminds us of a more recent Catholic leader, Vaclav Havel (1936-2011). He was a Czech President, poet, play write, mystic, etc. He composed a prayer which he called a “Credo.” It reads this way:  “I simply take the side of truth against any lie; I take the side of sense against non-sense, and of justice against injustice.” His achievements and admirers are diverse. Like Jesus, the diverse his followers, the more Christian he became.

Fr. Ken O’Malley, C.P., is the formation director and local superior at Holy Name Passionist Community in Houston, Texas.

Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross

Scripture:

Numbers 21:4b-9
Philippians 2:6-11
John 3:13-17

Reflection:

With their patience worn out by the journey.

How often do we feel that way, with our patience worn out by life’s and faiths journey.. Where do we turn in such times?   Today’s feast reminds us to turn to the cross.  For God so loved the world He gave His only son.  There is no greater love. He didn’t come to take away our suffering or challenges, He came to share in them with us, to be fully with us in life’s difficult moments.  In our times of struggle and strife, in difficulty and challenge may we turn to the Lord on the cross and allow His unfathomable love and mercy to pour over us.  In the cross we find our hope.

Steve Walsh is a retreatant at Mater Dolorosa Retreat Center in Sierra Madre, and a good friend of the Passionist Community.

Scripture:

1 Corinthians 12:12-14, 27-31a
Luke 7:11-17

Reflection:

The story of the widow of Nain, found only in Luke and is the first occurrence of restoration from the dead in this Gospel. According to tradition, Nain is located close to the Carmel mountain range and so we have a connection here with the prophet Elisha who performed a similar miracle in the same region in Shunem (2 Kings 4:8-37). Similarly, the story of the prophet Elijah, who raises the son of a widow in Zarephath (1 Kings17:8-24) may be also linked to the crowd’s reaction, “A great prophet has arisen” and “God has visited his people.” And, here is where Jesus’ actions and healing power is separated and distinguished from the great prophets. While both Elijah and Elisha had to physically touch, Jesus merely speaks his command while touching the coffin and the widow’s son immediately sat up. Further, in this story Jesus takes the initiative because he was moved with pity as we read over and over in Gospel stories. Compassion means to suffer with and Jesus clearly suffers with this woman.

Life for this widow was over; she would have no means of supporting herself in that culture.

Paul’s letter to the Corinthians frames our reflection; we are to understand and value the Body of Christ recognizing our Spirit—generated unity in diversity and care for each member. Jesus, through his cross rearranged our conventional order—the weakest or the least must be a priority within our body. His outpouring of compassion must be ours as well.

I remember when my grandmother, Kathleen, passed away. My heart was broken. She was my mentor and friend. I used to dream that she was brought back to life before our eyes and it was glorious. Then I would wake up to life without her and my grief returned. I would feel jealous of this widow in today’s Gospel story. In my naiveté as a teenager I would question God’s actions—why that widow? Wasn’t it unfair that the rest of us were not chosen—was God playing favorites? I’ve learned that this story is much deeper than my surface dwelling mighty deeds expectations and I wonder sometimes if this is the operational image we have of God. If my prayers are not answered in the way I expect then does God really love me? Is he even listening? Do I matter to him?

St. Paul places mighty deeds below apostles, prophets and teachers for a reason. He is inviting us to correct our lens so that we do not overvalue the spectacular and undervalue the more important gifts given by the one Spirit for the good of all. Jesus’ cross was real—it is real in mine and yours because we bear in our bodies his dying and rising—mystically, one cross for all. It isn’t about me being special apart from anyone else—together we are all special because we count as members in the one body.

Let’s strive to respond to this sacred gift of unity and divinity today.

May the Passion of Jesus Christ be Always in Our Hearts, Amen.

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

Scripture:

Exodus 32:7-11, 13-14
1 Timothy 1:12-17
Luke 15:1-10

Reflection:

Has an airline ever lost your luggage?  It’s happened to me.  It’s a terribly inconvenient experience, what with my clothing, toothpaste and toothbrush packed in that suitcase, not to mention other valuable items, all missing.  My business trip was disrupted.  I was distracted and anxious about my belongings.  I checked in with the airline’s lost and found department.  They promised to call the moment they found my luggage.  Being of little faith, I held out little hope.  But, find it they did!  I was never more relieved and joyful.

Those feelings and emotions come to mind when I reflect on the parables of this gospel.

In the first parable of the lost sheep, the shepherd represents God.  The shepherd astoundingly leaves an entire flock of sheep in order to search for a single lost one.  How impractical and reckless is that?  Yet, that is how much God, the shepherd, loves us.

But the second parable is even more astonishing.  Here, it is a woman – an ordinary, poor woman at that – who represents God.

Most of us refer to God almost exclusively as a male.  But Scripture makes no such exclusions.  Scripture also personifies Wisdom as the feminine character of God present to us.  So, then, who is this woman sweeping in dusty corners for the lost coin?  It is the Wisdom of God searching frantically for her lost currency.

And when the woman – this feminine God – finds the coin, she invites her friends and neighbors to celebrate with her.  In the Greek of Luke’s gospel, the words for friends and neighbors are both feminine.  After finding her coin, she calls together the women who are her friends and neighbors and says to them, “Rejoice with me because I have found the coin that I lost.”  She wants share her great joy with those close to her.  There is something maternal and warm in this image of the neighborhood women gathering to celebrate.

Together with the parable that evokes the biblical image of God as the loving shepherd, Jesus chose a story that resonates with the equally biblical image of God among us as Mother Wisdom.  Wisdom herself is doing the searching.  She is searching for something small but, to her, ultimately precious.  That coin is you and me.

This is a story about who God is, a God present in our midst, choosing to live in our home, lighting a lamp to pierce the darkness and searching, not for money, for but us – we who became invisible, lost in the dark corners of our lives.

Look closely.  Whether resembling a good shepherd or poor woman, it is God who searches until he finds us – the God of the lost and found.

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