Claire Smith

Scripture:

1 Samuel 16:1-13
Mark 2:23-28

Reflection:

Pope Francis, in his weekly audience, continued his series on virtues and vices. His brief address concerned gluttony. Pope Francis notes the stark contrast between John the Baptist and Jesus pertaining to food. John the Baptist ate what could be found. Scripture tells us his food was honey and locusts. In the Gospel of Luke, the evangelist puts much emphasis on the ministry of table fellowship. The picture of the plump, stout Jesus that greets you at the back of our Passionist Community at St. Vincent Strambi reminds me of this.

Pope Francis desires that we reflect on our relationship with food. Many Passionist brothers have talked about partaking in sumptuous feasts on solemnities and high feasts. I myself have celebrated such great feasts with my Passionist brothers. During my novitiate on Christmas Eve, the novices and local community spent hours at the table feasting, dancing and singing karaoke.

Christ called his disciples to celebrate the bridegroom while he is present. The day will come when he is not present. When this moment arrives, the disciples can fast and perform other penances. Christ calls us to celebrate food and the company of others. Christ fulfills the law and its precepts. He also emphasizes balance. The Sabbath was created for humanity; humanity to rest just as God rested on the seventh day.

We thank God for His many gifts and pray we may act responsibly in the enjoyment of God’s food and other gifts.

Fr. Phillip Donlan, CP, is the Associate Director of Ministry at Christ the King Passionist Retreat Center, Citrus Heights, California.

Scripture:

1 Samuel 3:3b-10, 19
1 Corinthians 6:13c-15a, 17-20
John 1:35-42

Reflection:

Today’s readings are introductory pieces that will tell of punishments rendered by God for sins. In upcoming verses and chapters of the Bible—Old and New Testaments—the Philistines devastatingly defeat the Israelites for the sins of Ely’s sons, and we destroy our own temples by committing sins against our own bodies and may deserve punishments that sacrifices and offerings will not pay for.

Paul asks us to “glorify God in your body” because “you have been purchased at a price.” Our bodies “are members of Christ.” “The immoral person sins against his own body.” “Your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you.”

So, let’s reflect on destroying our own temples. When we chip away at the structure of our bodies, we are not doing God’s will. We are not saying “Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will.” We are not glorifying God in our bodies.

Two of the seven deadly sins might come to mind. Gluttony and lust have physical consequences on our bodies and, unfortunately, can also sometimes be difficult to define on the spectrum that begins with natural needs but can move darkly to venial and even to mortal sin.

Our bodies are the proving ground through which we can help build God’s kingdom or flaunt irreverence toward that same kingdom. We can be grateful or disgraceful. We can become strong or weak. Gluttony quite literally destroys the body. Lust destroys, among other things, trust. Lust can break our most solemn promises to our mates and make life much more difficult for our children, God’s children.

Since the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, we no longer sacrifice animals. Instead, yes, we do have a sacrament that offers us forgiveness for our sins. We might even try our hardest to atone for past sins. But, in addition to that, are we starting each day praying something like, “Am I about to do the Lord’s will? Am I tuned into obedience? Do I see doing God’s will as a delight? Is God’s law in my heart? Am I glorifying the Lord in my body?”

Jack Dermody is the editor of the CrossRoads bulletin for the Passionist Alumni Association and a member of the Migration Commission for Holy Cross Province. He lives in Glendale, Arizona. 

Scripture:

1 Samuel 9:1-4, 17-19; 10:1a
Mark 2:13-17

Reflection:

“Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. I did not come to call the righteous but sinners” (v.17).

In these two simple verses, Jesus invites the reader – you and me –to ask ourselves the questions: Am I sick or am I well? Am I righteous, or am I a sinner? Reflecting on the text, I couldn’t help but feel that Jesus’ use of righteousness in this case seems negative, pointing to the inability of the Pharisees to see truth. Yet, several verses in the Old and New Testaments offer righteousness as a virtuous trait. One of these examples is in Paul’s First Letter to Timothy; he encourages the community to “ ..pursue righteousness, devotion, faith, love, patience and gentleness” (6:11). Webster’s dictionary defines righteousness as “holiness, purity of heart, uprightness” …etc. If all this is true, what do we make of Jesus’ answer to the Pharisees? Perhaps it is not so much a negative comment on pursuing holiness and purity of heart as a lack of recognition that we are all sinners as we strive for those virtuous traits.

What strikes me is how I immediately react negatively to the Pharisee’s question. Does the question have to be a criticism of Jesus’ actions? Given the Torah (Law), dining with “tax collectors and sinners” would make the observant Jew ritually unclean.  To better understand, it is always good to question matters of faith; perhaps it was an earnest question. However, it is even better to recognize the truth of Jesus’ answer. True righteousness and purity of heart without the taint of power to protect should see truth.

The readings today offer an opportunity for reflection on human motivation and behavior. The First Book of Samuel speaks of the election of Saul as God’s chosen king to lead the Israelites. God called Saul. Samuel will be the last in a long line of judges in Israel. A new era begins that will ultimately herald the birth of the Messiah from the line of King David.

Sadly, as a result of his behavior, Saul’s reign is short-lived, and he would be succeeded (ousted, really) by David. Saul, it might be said, started righteously and was very successful because of this trait. He then wanted power for himself, and it ended badly for him.

In our gospel, Jesus called “Levi” the tax collector, a person considered a sinner. Yet, the sinner recognized Jesus as righteous, and the text tells us that he left everything immediately and followed him. Here is the beginning of righteousness.

In reality, Jesus is the final statement on righteousness in his behavior because he was motivated by love to the end. Unlike Saul, he kept his heart pure and true. As his followers, we do no less.

To return to my original questions. Yes, I am both well and sick. I am righteous and a sinner all at the same time. The trick is recognizing our need for our divine physician to heal and forgive us. We make sure that happens by safeguarding our relationship with Jesus.

May this New Year dawn brightly and herald a new day of righteousness in Christ Jesus for all. Amen.

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:

1 Samuel 8:4-7, 10-22a
Mark 2:1-12

Reflection:

“When Jesus returned to Capernaum after some days, it became known that he was at home.  Many gathered together so that there was no longer room for them, not even around the door, and he preached the word to them.” 

The story of the paralytic being lowered through the roof of a house in Capernaum has always been intriguing from several perspectives.  First-century roofs in Galilee were typically flat consisting of timber beams of sycamore or cypress wood set atop the walls of a structure about 6 to 8 feet above the floor.  The timber beams supported branches or reeds mixed with thick layers of earthen “plaster” that had been dried to form a waterproof barrier above the structure. 

Hearing of Jesus’ return, a group assembled to bring a paralytic to him in the hope that Jesus would heal the man.  It takes four men to carry him, with others obviously involved.  Credit this group of friends and neighbors for their faith, their charity, and their zeal in trying to alleviate the paralytic’s suffering. 

Realizing that they cannot get near Jesus because of the crowd, they resort to the unthinkable.  Some of them climb to the top of the roof, somehow tear open the beamed, thatched roof, somehow hoist the man on his mat to the top of the roof and somehow lower him on his mat into Jesus’ presence.  Mark leaves us wondering how long it took to open the roof, lift the paralytic to the top of the roof and then lower him into the inside of the house.  Nor does he reveal if Jesus continues preaching amidst all of the commotion. 

Then Jesus, seeing their faith did the unthinkable himself.  “Child, your sins are forgiven.”  How surprised the entire crowd must have been at these words.  They came, hoping for a miracle.  Instead, Jesus forgives the man’s sins.  What is this?  This isn’t what we struggled so laboriously with the paralytic for.  It was only when the scribes challenge Jesus words that he reveals his true identity.  “Why does this man speak that way? He is blaspheming.  Who but God alone can forgive sins?”  Jesus retorts: “But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority to forgive sins on earth” – he said to the paralytic, “I say to you, rise, pick up your mat, and go home” He rose, picked up his mat at once, and went away in the sight of everyone.  They were all astounded and glorified God, saying, “We have never seen anything like this.”

This gospel passage challenges us to wonder, when we or others are suffering or in need, do we more often pray for a healing miracle before praying for the forgiveness of our sins.  Isn’t Jesus trying to show us that the greatest gift that God can bestow on us is the forgiveness of our sins even before the alleviation of our sufferings?  That’s what he did for the paralytic.  First, he said “Child, your sins are forgiven.”  Then he said, “I say to you, rise, pick up your mat, and go home.”  Perhaps the gospel is encouraging us to rethink the priorities of the things that we pray for.

Bill Berger has had a lifelong relationship with the Passionist Family. Bill and his wife, Linda, are currently leaders of the Community of Passionist Partners (CPPs) in Houston.

Scripture:

1 Samuel 4:1-11
Mark 1:40-45

Reflection: 

In today’s Gospel of Mark, Jesus dramatically begins his public ministry in Capernaum where he has established his residence.  It is there on the Sabbath in the synagogue that Jesus astonishes all those assembled by the unique authority of his teaching.  His authority comes out of his “exousia,” a Greek word that means out of his own essence, his own being.  In other words, Jesus taught with a powerful divine, God-driven authority, and not like the scribes.  They gained their authority of previous, respected scholars and teachers in their interpretation of the Torah.  Jesus further demonstrated his authority by healing a man in the synagogue who was possessed by an impure spirit.

Soon after, Jesus comes across a leper who begs to be healed.  This healing will provide additional evidence of who Jesus is and the greatness of his authority over temporal powers, the scribes, and malevolent spiritual powers, the impure spirit.  In the process of healing the leper, however, Jesus also will reveal a glimpse of what kind of Messiah he would be.  Not the kind of heroic, triumphant warrior king Messiah who would free Israel from the hated Romans who occupied their land.  Jesus would reveal himself to be a suffering Messiah.

The leper begs Jesus, “If you want to, you can make me clean.”  Jesus responds, “I do will it.  Be made clean.”  Jesus further instructed the leper to show himself to the priest, who would officially verify that the man is clean and may now rejoin his family and community.  In addition, Jesus strictly warned the man not to tell anyone about who healed him.

In his absolute joy, however, the man healed of leprosy disregarded Jesus’ directive and proclaimed to all who would listen that it was Jesus who healed him.  The irony is that it was a disobedient man who was among the first to preach the good news about Jesus.  Consequently, Jesus is hampered rather than enabled to continue his ministry.

A further irony is that the leper who was once forced to live on the margins of the community is restored to community life.  Jesus, who had moved freely among the villages, was now forced to live as an outcast on the outskirts of the village.  These two men, in effect, traded places.  Jesus finds himself suffering a leper’s isolation.

Within such irony, Mark wants his community – and us – to look closely because therein lies the Good News.  Just as the healed leper traded places with Jesus, so too has Jesus traded places with us. On the outskirts of Jerusalem, Jesus would suffer on the cross in order to heal us of our “leprous” sins and restore us to eternal life in God. 

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

Scripture:

1 Samuel 3:1-10, 19-20
Mark 1:29-39

Reflection:

My grandson sent me a picture from the San Diego Zoo of two young tiger cubs chasing each other and tussling with delight. One of my comments back to him and his parents was that I wish I had that kind of energy, but I’m afraid that’s long gone! Still, no observer could help but smile watching their freedom and joy in just being tiger cubs and doing what tiger cubs do. That is, after all, the will of God for them. They don’t need to “find” God’s will to obey it. They just allow the depth of who God created them to be to bubble up to the surface and be exuberantly expressed.

Jesus committed his life to allowing the depth of who God created him to be to bubble up and be expressed. To do so, he regularly went into the wilderness to pray, to be with God, and to be reminded of who and whose he was. Then he returned to the world to live his deepest identity, using his gifts to preach, heal, and serve as many people as he could.

I find that I’m too often more like Samuel than like Jesus. I don’t have an easy time hearing God’s voice. Even when I hear it, I so readily doubt what I’ve heard. “Hmmm, is someone calling me? Who could it be? What do they want? Are they sure they have the right person?” I look around, puzzled, and then I go back to bed. That doesn’t do much good, though, does it?

Having spent Advent concentrating on building a path straight to my heart for God, I’ve learned that’s only the beginning. Once I let God in, I have to let God teach me how to more clearly hear that divine voice. I have to take time in prayer to keep myself grounded in my deepest identity as God’s beloved child. Then I need the courage to live that identity in the world, even when others don’t understand or actively object. Like all of creation and Jesus himself, the will of God for me is to become ever more who I was created to be. God’s will is written right into the cells of my being and lives in the depths of my heart.

So it’s a constant back-and-forth process on that path – sitting still long enough to truly hear the ever-present voice of God calling my name, and then going back to the world to follow that voice. I need to decrease the amount of time I’m asking, “God what should I do? What is your will?” Instead, I need to listen to the deepest part of me and then step out in faith, trying always to freely and exuberantly use the gifts that God has given me to live out who I am. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll even find that I have more energy when I cooperate with my core identity in God rather than fighting against it. I might even learn to be as fully “me” as those cubs! Care to join me?

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:

1 Samuel 1:9-20
Mark 1:21-28

Reflection:

Here Begins the Gospel of Mark

We begin our daily reading of Mark’s gospel today: 1:21-28. The celebrant can include Monday’s gospel, the calling of the fishermen to maintain the fullness of the story. The ‘very beginning’ of the gospel was heard this year on the 2nd Sunday of Advent, with the opening verse: “Here begins the Good News of Jesus Christ, the Son of God”.

Imagine if you were a first century Christian and gathered where the gospel of Mark was known and read, and someone came to you asking why you believe in Jesus. You might give him the gospel and say, I believe Jesus is the Son of God and he brings the good news of hope and salvation. You can read the story of Jesus, here, in the writing of Mark. Perhaps Mark’s gospel could be used in that way; opening the book may open the door that will lead to faith.

But the gospel is more. It makes Jesus present to the community that celebrates around the table of the Eucharist. This Word of God gives life to the community that finds meaning in its written words through the Holy Spirit.

The first verse tells us simply, ‘Jesus is the Son of God’. It seems to say it all.

As we read the Gospel of Mark, we see Jesus named as the Son of God used when he dies upon the Cross. A Roman soldier, the centurion in charge, declares, ‘Truly this man was the Son of God’. How could he know that? He may well have heard of Jesus reputation, witnessed a dignity in him, certainly witnessed the ugliness of those mocking and showing hatred, yet feelings of compassion or respect for this crucified man would not account for declaring him, ‘Son of God’.

It is in the silence, the surprise of grace, that just as in God’s plan the Baptist would prepare us for the Lord’s coming, so a Roman soldier will prepare us for Jesus Victory. The soldier and we who read Mark see Jesus in death emptied and a poor sharer like us in our human condition of death. God’s grace turns that awful reality into the silence of the empty tomb. Jesus who spoke to Abba in the Garden of Gethsemane and died feeling abandoned by the Father is not abandoned, but raised to new life, Son of God.

In today’s gospel we hear the first of several times when Jesus is identified as ‘the holy One of God’, known by the unclean spirits, the demons. They are silenced by Jesus.

No one can say that Jesus is the Son of God until the solemn pronouncement by the soldier at Jesus death. This is part of the beautiful writing and plan of Mark.

Even we who know from the very beginning the ‘secret’, we need the silence that Jesus calls forth from those who know. Why? Because we need to ponder the mystery, to ask for the grace that the words generously invite us to receive, to walk with the Word made flesh guided by the sacred word that we read. This is what Mark invites us to do as we once again take up his Gospel and accompany Jesus through his written word. For the grace to drink deeply and receive refreshment from the Well of God’s Holy Word in this year ahead, we pray.

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

The Baptism of the Lord

Scripture:

Isaiah 42:1-4, 6-7 or Acts 10:34-38
Matthew 3:13-17

Reflection:

The Commissioning of Jesus

Today’s feast of Our Lord’s Baptism brings Christmas season to its end, but Matthew’s account of Jesus’ baptism gives us a beginning, a ‘commissioning’. “This is my beloved Son.” A lovely description says these words are ‘a daughter of a voice’, that is, an echo of a word spoken in heaven.

This daughter of a voice is often taken to mean the revelation of Jesus as the uniquely loved and chosen by the Father. But Fr. John R. Donahue, SJ, explores these words spoken from heaven at Jesus’ Baptism as the commissioning of Jesus. Both Mark and Luke say, ‘You are my beloved Son’, so is a slight difference from Matthew’s, “This is my beloved Son”. In this difference Fr. Donahue hears a presentation and commissioning rather than the words of the intimate love between Father and Son. How does he come to hear this and what does it mean for us?

In the first reading from Isaias the Church understands Jesus to be the one who will “establish justice upon the earth” (Is. 42:4). God speaks to Israel through the prophet saying, I have grasped you by the hand, I formed you, and I set you as a covenant, a light for the nations. Israel is in exile, but God loves them so much, that rather than being angry with them God approaches them with gentleness. God reaches out to take the hand of Israel and pulls them from darkness and despair into God’s own light and hope.

A tiny spark or smouldering ash will flare up and become the new ardent fire of love. Humble, broken, fragile Israel will open the eyes of the blind, free prisoners, lead those hidden in dungeons out of darkness. Isaiah tells Israel they are: uniquely loved and chosen. The one who does this is a suffering servant.

“I have called you for the victory of Justice”. Jesus continues the mission of the suffering servant of Isaias. He will show us how to be just before God and with one another. This is my Beloved Son being sent now to speak and bring to life the parable of the last judgment that Matthew gives at the end of his gospel: come blessed of my Father to receive your reward, for what you have done to the least, for the suffering, and to those on the margins, you have done to me.

I recently took part in a discussion where each person was asked to name where they encountered people on the margins. My response was ‘when celebrating Baptism’. Often a parent or both parents present their child to be baptized with fear and trembling. They are uncomfortable and unfamiliar with the church, a marriage irregularity or no marriage is usual, there is a fear of the unknown – what do we need to do now that we are here? Will we encounter anger or be yelled at? It is so sad that such a beautiful moment is lost. Or maybe and hopefully it is a beginning, a life-giving moment, not only for the child baptized. Parents and godparents, the community, we are commissioned to renew our lives and faith in the mystery of Gods’ grace. To us is the child’s baptismal candle entrusted so it will be kept burning brightly and this child can go forth in life as a child of light, alive with everlasting life.

With Matthew may we celebrate Jesus’ commissioning by remembering our own commissioning. Let us give our beloved daughters and sons the grace of faith, with them love as Christ those on the margins and share light and Good News, and to be suffering servants working to establish justice on our earth. We are the adopted sons and daughters of God, other Christs, who share Jesus’ commission.

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