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Memorial of St. Barnabas, Apostle

Scripture:

Acts 11:21b-26, 13:1-3
Matthew 5:17-19

Reflection:

When I think of Barnabas, I remember the encourager.  The Jerusalem Church needed someone to send to Antioch, where many Gentiles were coming to Christ.  They dispatched Barnabas, “a good man, filled with the Holy Spirit and faith.”  Barnabas arrived in Antioch and immediately “encouraged them to remain true to the Lord with all their hearts.”

When I think of Barnabas, I remember the friend.  Many in the church feared Paul, the former Christian hunter and tormenter.  They shunned him.  Not Barnabas.  He befriended Paul and even invited him to join Barnabas in his Antioch mission.

When I think of Barnabas, I remember the compassionate man.  I was as fearful as Mark. Doubtful of my calling to the diaconate, I thought of abandoning my journey.  And I was as disparaging as Paul.  I saw only my failures.  But a holy deacon, Ernie Nosari, like Barnabas, saw my potential.  He believed in me, mentored me.  With patience and compassion, he helped to prepare me for an exhilarating diaconate adventure.

Remember us, Barnabas.  Take us to Antioch with you.  Teach us how to encourage those who want to know the Lord.  Introduce us to Paul, to those who feel shunned and lonely.  Take us on your next voyage with Mark.  Show us how to be compassionate to those who are discouraged.  Show us how to reveal, not the failures, but the potential in others.  And especially today, your feast day, Barnabas, show us how to be encourager, friend and compassionate.  Show us how to be “good, and filled with the Holy Spirit and faith.”

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

Fourth Sunday of Lent

Scripture:

Joshua 5:9a, 10-12
2 Corinthians 5:17-21
Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

Reflection:

We all know the story of the Prodigal Son, who essentially proclaimed his father dead, took his inheritance, and shamed his family and himself by how he chose to spend the money. Even the son’s return home was based more on the necessity of survival than it was on sincere repentance. (Interestingly, his father’s open-armed, joyous reception probably did more to generate remorse in the errant young man than did his time sharing slop with the pigs.)

We marvel at the forgiving nature of the father. We spend far less time exploring the resentment of the elder son. I suspect that is because we relate so easily to his feelings. He did everything right – obeying all the rules, living as the model child, and sacrificing his own needs for his father’s. He doesn’t want to see an undeserving sinner receiving the reward he feels is due to him. So instead of joining in this experience of unmatched love, dancing with his brother and celebrating the once-again-intact family, the elder son turns away, refuses his father’s love, and places himself outside the family. He is now no less prodigal than his younger brother. (Perhaps we should change the title to “The Parable of the Two Prodigal Sons”).

This story parallels that of the vineyard workers who were hired at various times of the day, yet all received the same pay. If we worked long hours in the heat of the day, or did everything right like the elder son, we’d be angry over the unfair disparity in treatment, too. We demand justice. No, we demand equity. We want what we believe we have coming to us.

When his son turned away in anger, it is obvious the father’s heart was broken again. Just as he had waited patiently at the window for his beloved younger son to return home, he now had to wait at the window for his elder son to return. If the boy was as stubborn as I can be sometimes, he may have waited for a very long time.

God’s love and forgiveness, as the father demonstrates, doesn’t obey human rules of equity. We can’t earn it, no matter what we do. God simply loves and forgives, freely and lavishly, undeserving though we may be. That is an easier truth to accept when I have done wrong; when I sin I want to be welcomed back like the younger son. It is far harder to accept when I believe I am right, yet I see “a sinner” garnering praise and attention that I crave for myself. This is especially true when I work hard to overcome a certain flaw or sin, only to observe someone else practicing that very sin to manipulate people or situations to their own advantage. I know the short road toward anger and resentment when it seems more rewarding to do wrong than to stay on the right path.

How long did the eldest son remain a prodigal? We don’t know. Yet the operative question is: How long will I? Can I stay true to my calling as a follower of Christ even when I see the “rewards” that sometimes accrue to those who don’t? Can I rejoice just as heartily when the love and forgiveness that God lavishes on me is poured out on others in ways I may deem unfair? Can I turn around and lavish love and forgiveness on those who have hurt me?

I freely admit I’m not there yet. I am still working to transform my ideas of self-righteousness and fairness. I need to keep this parable in front of me, so I can continually let go of all the ways I act like the elder son. God is waiting patiently at the window, waiting for me to turn and come home.

 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/.

Third Sunday of Lent

Scripture:

Exodus 3:1-8a, 13-15
1 Corinthians 10:1-6, 10-12
Luke 13:1-9

Reflection:

In Sunday’s Gospel reading (Luke 13:1-9), Jesus tells a parable about a barren fig tree. The owner of the fig tree is frustrated. The tree has been there for three years without bearing any fruit. He tells his gardener to cut it down: “Why should it exhaust the soil?” But the gardener says, “Sir, leave it for this year also, and I shall cultivate the ground around it and fertilize it; it may bear fruit in the future. If not you can cut it down.”

The parable is a parable of God’s mercy. Even though we may not bear fruit as much as we could, God is still willing to work with us and in us so that we may bear fruit in spreading the Good News and in sharing God’s love in Jesus Christ. Can God be that merciful? It is God’s choice to be so. When we hear the story of the call of Moses in our first reading from Exodus (3:1-8a, 13-15), Moses asks God what to call Him when the people ask, “What is his name?” God replies, “I am who am. This is what you shall tell the Israelites: I AM sent me to you.” The same God who is the Source of all being is the same One who freed the Israelites from slavery in Egypt, and is the same One who continues to show us mercy and love.

But this parable also presents us with a few challenges. It implies that even though God is merciful, we should not abuse our relationship with Him. We ought not to take God’s mercy for granted. As St. Paul says in our second reading from 1 Corinthians (10:1-6, 10-12), “Therefore, whoever thinks he is standing secure should take care not to fall.”

The parable also challenges us about our relationships with others. Unfortunately, human history is replete with examples of one group saying about another something similar to “Why should it exhaust the soil?” It has been too easy for people to consider others as non-productive or superfluous, or even as a blight on the earth. In our Gospel reading, people tell Jesus how Pilate desecrated the blood of Galileans he presumably had killed. Then Jesus mentions some others who were killed when a tower fell on them. Jesus is quick to point out that these things were not a punishment for sins. God does not punish us like that! So why does Jesus warn the crowds that unless they repent they shall perish as those victims did? I believe it is because while God does not punish us with the evil of others, or with the tragedy of an accident, He does let us at times suffer the consequences of our actions.

Using the parable of the fig tree, if we resort to violence, whether it is physical violence to the point of genocide, or systematic discrimination or oppression, it is very likely we will suffer some violence ourselves. In various situations in the world we see a thirst for vengeance that never seems to be satisfied, and so one atrocity is answered by another. When we engage in condemnation and violence, how can we hope to bear any fruit? I know that we can say that we have not participated in any genocide or outright oppression, but we need to examine how often we resort to our stereotypes and prejudices to make sense of certain situations. Just being content with what is can help perpetuate what we know is wrong. When we treat others in a way that dehumanizes them, we need to remember the mercy God has shown us. I would think most of us can recognize times in our lives when we have been just like the fig tree in Jesus’ parable! Thank God that God has been merciful with us!

May we trust in God’s mercy, and show mercy to others. May we open ourselves to God’s love in Jesus Christ, and may that love bear fruit in us.

Fr. Phil Paxton, C.P., is the local superior of the Passionist Community in Birmingham, Alabama. 

Scripture:

Galatians 5:1-6
Luke 11:37-41

Reflection:

Can you imagine being invited to someone’s home for an evening meal and then find yourself being criticized for the way you eat your food by the very host who welcomed you?  It might very well make you wonder why you were invited in the first place!

Our Gospel passage today presents a very interesting moment in the life and public ministry of Jesus.  Luke tells us that after Jesus had spoken, a Pharisee invited him to dine at his home.  As the Gospel reading yesterday portrayed for us, Jesus had just spoken to a large crowd of people and surely some of those in the crowd were Pharisees.  They heard him say that, “This generation is an evil generation; it seeks a sign, but no sign will be given it, except the sign of Jonah.”  If I was told that I was part of an evil generation how would that make me feel?  I am not so sure I would want to invite Jesus to my home for a meal unless I had some ulterior motive.  Yet, Jesus accepted the invitation, never wanting to miss an opportunity to set those so terribly bound by mere observance of the law free.  But his host missed the chance of a lifetime and could only fall back on criticizing Jesus because he did not observe the ritual of washing before the meal itself.  He missed the freeing love of Jesus who was there with him at table.  What a great loss!

Paul tells us in our first reading from Galatians that only faith working through love is what matters and that for freedom Christ set us free.  Today’s scripture readings are a wonderful reminder that we, like the Pharisee, can invite the Lord into our home, to welcome him as we gather around our table for a meal.  But the freedom he brings will only be ours if we are willing to welcome him in trusting faith and selfless love, something our Pharisee friend could not do.

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

Scripture:

Ecclesiastes 3:1-11
Luke 9:18-22

Reflection:

Jesus was praying in solitude Luke 9:18.   Through thousands of years of human history no one ever prayed like Jesus.   The word for prayer means desire for God.   What human and divine yearning for His Father was in the heart and mind of Jesus.   Before Jesus picked his apostles, He spent the whole night in prayer.

We tend to think we are too busy and have too many more important things to do than to spend much time to pray.  An important part of the Passionist charism is a deep prayer life.    St Paul of the Cross would spend the whole night in prayer before he would preach in the morning liturgy.   St Vincent, like Paul, was totally dedicated to mental prayer.   Not to appreciate the craving for God in these Passionist saints is to totally miss their spirit.   We can never realistically talk about Passionist spirituality without emphasizing the massive importance of time with God.

“As a man of great prayer, Paul of the Cross inculcated its importance most forcefully by word and example.  He wished his followers to pray without ceasing and desired our communities to become real schools of prayer, leading to a deep experience of God.”  Chapter 111  Constitutions

In Paul’s original idea of Passionist life he had hoped we could spend at least half of the year in solitude and contemplation. In his famous painting, the Angelus, Millet pictures a man and his wife stopping their word of harvesting potatoes to pray even though their sack, and basket are not yet filled.   Prayer is more important than life itself.   As a boy, I used to look at this painting in my grandmother’s house; now, I have the same picture some 75 years later in my office.  It is faded and a little worse for wear, but a wonderful reminder of an age-old truth in our Catholic Church.   Prayer is one of the most important tasks in our life.  “Pray  without ceasing.” 1 Th 5:17

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

Scripture:

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

Reflection:

In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus first asks His disciples what the people think of Him; who were they saying he was. The disciples give their answers, and then Jesus asks them, “But who do you say that I am?” And Peter, who so ften gets it wrong, gets it right. He says to Jesus, “The Messiah of God.” And after Jesus warns them not to tell this to anyone, He then says, “The Son of Man must suffer greatly and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed and on the third day be raised.”

In acknowledging Peter’s confession of Him as the Messiah, Jesus then tells them how He will be the Messiah: neither by military conquest nor by getting rid of corrupt leaders, but by sacrifice, even to the point of death, followed by resurrection.

For me, the Gospel readings for the last few days have highlighted the difference between the wisdom of the world and the wisdom of the Gospel, and we see this once again in today’s reading. That, I think, is one of the reasons Jesus doesn’t want the apostles to tell anyone that he was the Messiah. The people were expecting a different kind of Messiah, and even the apostles had trouble understanding what was going to occur, so perhaps Jesus didn’t want to get the people’s hopes up for something that wasn’t going to happen.

Understanding Jesus’ death on the Cross as an act of redemption helps us understand that God does not promise to remove all our difficulties, but instead, God promises us that He will get us through to the other side. Jesus did not only predict His Passion and Death, but also His Resurrection!

Can we live in hope, and thereby tell the world who we say Jesus is?

Fr. Phil Paxton, C.P., is the local superior of the Passionist Community in Birmingham, Alabama. 

Scripture:

1 Corinthians 9:16-19, 22b-27
Luke 6:39-42

Reflection:

I have served as a lector and taught lector training for decades.  I take proclamation of the word very seriously, with the aim of making it come alive so God can change people’s hearts.  I must admit, though, that I share one of Paul’s sentiments.  He fears he does not sufficiently live what he preaches.  Like him, I constantly have to ask myself how faithfully I live what I proclaim and how willingly I allow God to change my own heart.

Take the lessons of today’s readings.  Jesus tells us to take the beam out of our own eye before noticing the splinter in another’s.  I admit to too many times I have judged another person for a fault I myself carry.  In fact, psychologists tell us the characteristics that bother us the most in other people, if we look closely and honestly, are the same characteristics we fear in ourselves and which we struggle to overcome.  It’s just so much easier to criticize it in someone else, thereby deflecting attention from my own shortcomings.

Paul says that when he preaches, he is simply doing his job.  He expects no adulation or praise as a result, instead pointing to the gospel and to Christ.  How often have I wished to be like the grandstanding football players, who boldly act as if every tackle, pass, or touchdown were an impressive personal victory rather than a part of their job which could not have been achieved if it weren’t for the team?  (Imagine an Easter Vigil at which the neophytes emerge from the font dripping wet and scented with oil while the sponsors give a chest bump, pump their fists, point to themselves and yell “Yeah!!”) Can I let go of that all-too-human need for recognition and humbly join Paul in saying that when I proclaim scripture well, when I help people heal, when I teach a class or give a presentation, I am simply doing my job?

Paul also says to run the race well, constantly training and improving and keeping the goal in mind.  The “race” of which Paul speaks is not a sprint; it is an endurance event with multiple obstacles.  Yet I am sometimes woefully lacking in my commitment to the foundational training practices that allow me to stay on course.  How much time do I take out of my over-scheduled day for prayer?  What percentage of my stacks of required reading helps inform and challenge my faith?  When is the last time I went on a retreat, allowing God a more extended time to work within me?

And these are just a few lessons from one day of readings!  When I start listing all the ways I fall short of the scripture I proclaim, it gets discouraging.  I can feel like nothing more than the blind leading the blind, unsure whether I am even doing what God wants.

I believe Paul would counsel continuing to strive, yet concentrating on Christ rather than my own imperfections.  As today’s psalm says, God is the sun who sees and lights the path.  God is my shield and ever-faithful companion.  God withholds no good thing from one who acts with sincerity.  God is my ultimate home, my nest, my secure dwelling place.  Perhaps one day I will be able to stand before God and hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”  Hopefully I will also be able to reply, “You’re welcome; I was only doing my job.”

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/.