Daily Scripture

Scripture:

Hosea 14:2-10
Mark 12:28-34

Reflection:

If there is one thing all of us are pretty good at, it’s losing our way. We know that orienting our lives toward God and following Christ on the path of discipleship is the only true way to life, but inevitably—and, sadly, sometimes quite consistently—we try our luck with other paths no matter how many times they leave us sad and empty, disappointed and depleted, and surely less alive than we were before.

Lent is a season that is crafted with wayward souls in mind because the heart of the Lenten message is to turn to God that we might live. And it’s the message that pulsates in today’s first reading from the prophet Hosea. Like ourselves, the Israelites had once again wandered away from God in the endlessly misguided attempt to find security and strength, meaning and fulfillment, in something other than God, whether alliances with other nations like Assyria or their own frantic efforts (“the work of our hands”). Not surprisingly, rather than prospering, they have “collapsed through their guilt.” And yet, rather than giving up on them, God, like an anguished and abandoned lover, pleads for them to return, promising, “I will heal their defection, I will love them freely.” The passage overflows with images of renewal and restoration, of reconciliation and reunion. It really is as if the dead have come back to life.

Today’s gospel offers hope for the wayward as well. It’s the well-known gospel passage in which one of the scribes asks Jesus, “Which is the first of all the commandments?” and Jesus responds that we are to “love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength,” and we are to “love your neighbor as yourself.” We usually think of laws and commandments as repressive and restrictive, not liberating and life-giving, but in these two pithy commandments Jesus shows us the only absolutely trustworthy path to life. 

So that’s it. Letting God love us and loving God in return, letting others love us and loving them in return. If we do those things well, people will be able to say of us, “That person really lived!”

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

Scripture:

Deuteronomy 4:1, 5-9
Matthew 5:17-19

Reflection:

…I have come not to abolish but to fulfill…

It seems that Jesus was forever being accused of breaking the law – healing on the Sabbath; why do you not wash your hands as the law proclaims?;  how is it that you and your disciples pick the wheat on the Sabbath?… The law in those days stemmed from the Ten Commandments, the Pentateuch and the whole of Scripture.   The Law was really more about principles than about rules and regulations.  Principles to help guide life in community.  Scribes and Pharisees made it their business to reduce the principles to rules and regulations that they could enforce them.  In fulfilling the Law, Jesus was getting back to the principles of respect and reverence.  Reverence for God and God’s day, respect for parents, neighbors, life and truth.

This reverence and respect is rooted in mercy and love.  The mercy and love we experience from God, modeled in Jesus and called forth in every one of us to share in community.

Lent is an opportunity for us to reconnect with the principles of life – of love – and of mercy.  It is a season inviting us to something deeper – we are called to live the Ten Commandments through the lens of the Beatitudes.  To be deeply present to God and to one another,   Lent is a time to allow God to lift us out of our old ruts, help us refocus and reframe our lenses so that we can be channels of healing, opportunity and possibility.  So that we can accompany and companion those tempted to shrink from their crosses.  So that we can walk with deeper reverence, respect and compassion.  The fulfillment of the law that Jesus promised.

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

Scripture:

Daniel 3:25, 34-43
Matthew 18:21-35

Reflection:

The Hard Grace of Knowing Sin

In Luke’s gospel, after preaching to a crowd on the shore of Lake Galilee, Jesus tells Peter to put out into the deep and cast the nets. Despite fishing that night and catching nothing Peter does what Jesus asks. Seeing the nets filled to the breaking point Peter falls at the knees of Jesus, saying, “Leave me Lord, I am a sinful man’. Peter is credited of sinning when he denied knowing Jesus during his passion. Without judging Peter, whatever lingering guilt he must have felt seems to be addressed by Jesus when in John’s gospel after the resurrection Our Lord invites an affirmation of Peter’s love.

Acknowledging our sin during Lent we pray to be forgiven and to forgive. We will also pray to know our sin. That seems where we should begin. What a challenging grace to ask for, to know our sins, to be able to say like Peter, ‘I am a sinful man, I am a sinful woman’. That is a very healthy grace. In its pure form we may only be able to take so much of it. Like vanilla when we are baking, it smells so good, a little bit adds wonderful taste, too much will be overpowering and not good.

This grace of knowing sin is given of course when God wants us to have it. For some saints it was their special grace. These penitents talked to God a lot about their sin and the sin of the world in prayer, growing in God’s love through this grace. All of us can profit from this grace when God gives it to us, but it may not always be so strong. We may draw upon this experience remembering and being moved by it later. This seems to be what happens in the sacrament of reconciliation, when we are not overcome by sin but want to celebrate God’s forgiveness preparing for Christmas or Easter or while making special spiritual exercises? Sometimes God’s grace just moves us to be aware of sin and celebrate forgiveness.

Knowing that we are sinners lets us claim as our own the prayer we hear in the book of Daniel today, ‘Do not take away your mercy from us…with contrite hearts let us be received…those who trust you cannot be put to shame…do not let us be put to shame,  but deal with us in your kindness and mercy.

In the parable of Matthew I would like to know if the King had an experience of mercy? I suspect yes. We do not know how our debtor ran up a huge debt nor how he would propose to pay for it in the future. What does one do in such a situation? Get prostrate and beg is the best idea. He sees reality and does the only thing one can do. Adam and Eve take note! Our debtor received mercy.

Something is wrong however. How could he have forgotten his experience mercy? Did he forget his sin? All of those around are upset. They go to the king because they appreciated mercy, they were sinners, and something really went wrong with this man’s behavior. He should know and do better. Amen. Oh oh, no second chance this time!

Putting on our seat belt and crash helmet, let us ask for the grace of knowing our sin.

Then we can humbly welcome the mercy of God’s promise and we grow in love. May our experience of God’s mercy be so good, a remembered grace, that we share it.

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

Scripture:

2 Kings 5:1-15ab
Luke 4:24-30

Reflection:

Our Gospel story picks up midway through the fourth chapter of St. Luke. The final part of Jesus’ interaction with the people in the synagogue in his hometown of Nazareth. He has just announced that the prophet’s words are fulfilled “in their hearing (v.21).”

The people go from praising his gracious words to saying, who are you to teach us; we know who you are, the son of Joseph. In other words, an ordinary member of the community—nothing special. Similarly in our first reading from the second book of Kings, Naaman the Syrian hears that healing will come by a simple washing seven times in the Jordan. He is deflated and prepared to travel home without doing this ordinary thing. Ordinary is irrelevant in both stories. However, Naaman listens to reason from his servants and is cured. Jesus’ reasoning did not garner the same response. In pointing to the truth that a prophet is not accepted in his native place, his words caused “fury.” Fury is described in the dictionary as “wild or violent anger.” He reminds them of times when prophets healed outside the chosen people. It was not only about them but anyone who heard and believed. Perhaps, they were not ready to listen to his inclusive message of salvation for all.

The irony of this scenario is that Jesus “passes through their midst and went away (v.30).” I have often wondered how this could happen; how could he have escaped their fury? I understand this story foreshadows Jesus’ ultimate fate, and it was not yet his hour, as the gospel of St. John would offer. However, I believe their fury blinded them so much that Jesus could slip away. Did they feel put down and disrespected by Jesus? Might that have caused this eruption? Sometimes the truth is hard to take, and anger is triggered. That is our human condition. The “act and not react” principle is not always easy to follow. Can you relate?

The important thing—I believe—is to accept our transgressions and move on in hope. Otherwise, our anger may blind us from our life’s gifts. It isn’t who we are. We are children of our Father, made in his image and breathing his breath from the beginning of creation. God is in our breath, the most fundamental—ordinary—thing we must do to live.

The spiritual writer Paula D’Arcy says, “God comes disguised by your life.” In similar language from Irish poet Patrick Kavanagh, “God is found…in the bits and pieces..in the pots and pans.” As we observe the ordinary moments in our lives, may we notice the extraordinary miracles arising from each one. Today and every day. Blessings on your journey.

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:

Exodus 17:3-7
Romans 5:1-2, 5-8
John 4:5-42

Reflection:

Last week, as we reflected on Jesus’ words, “Do not be afraid,” one of the fears mentioned was “Do not be afraid of God revealing you to yourself.” In our Gospel reading for this Sunday (John 4:5-42), we see that Jesus revealed a Samaritan woman to herself, and then revealed Himself to her, and how all that led to great conversion.

An important point that Scripture scholars point out is that Jesus meets this woman at Jacob’s Well, in a Samaritan town, at noon. Noon is not the usual time of day when people went to the well, but as we see later on, this woman probably went to the well when no one else was there to avoid the dirty looks and back-biting that she usually got from the other townspeople.

So perhaps she was startled to see another person at the well, who she can tell is a Jew. And then, to her astonishment, Jesus speaks to her, and asks her for a cup of water! Remember, Jews and Samaritans had no use for each other. So, the woman remarks on this, and she and Jesus have an exchange that goes beyond getting a drink of water to Jesus speaking of a different kind of water: “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again; but whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst; the water I shall give will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” And so the woman asks for this kind of water, so she wouldn’t ever have to go to the well again.

And here is where Jesus reveals her to herself. He tells her to ask her husband. She replies, “I do not have a husband.” And Jesus tells her that she speaks truthfully. She has had five husbands, and the one she is with now is not her husband. There has to be something in the way that Jesus said what He said, because what happens next is truly remarkable. Instead of getting offended, or angry, she stays and recognizes that Jesus is a prophet, and when Jesus tells her that, instead of focusing on a specific place, people will “worship the Father in Spirit and truth,” the woman speaks about the coming of the Messiah, and Jesus tells her that He is the Messiah.

Now here is another remarkable occurrence. The woman goes to the rest of the townspeople, the ones she avoided by coming to the well at noon, and tells them about Jesus, and could He be the Messiah! And the people listen to her testimony! The people in the town ask Jesus to stay, and then many more people begin to believe in Him.

It’s a remarkable thing! Does this remarkable set of events have anything to say to us? This set of events tells me a few things. If you’re thirsting for something that no one or no thing seems to be able to satisfy, go to Jesus. As He did with the woman at the well, He will confront you with the truth, but He is not here to condemn you. He is here to save you. And if you want to give witness, you don’t have to memorize the Bible or Church law. You can simply say, “There is someone who knows what I have done and still loves me.”

And as far as being church, we can be like the gossipers, convinced of our own righteousness, and pass judgment on others, or we can be like what the townspeople wound up being, willing to listen to someone’s story, and be willing to accept their conversion, as we hope others will accept ours. We can live out the words of St. Paul in our second reading (Romans 5:1-2, 5-8): “And hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” We can be messengers of God’s love in Jesus Christ, bringing hope and compassion to a hurting world. We can help bring down the barriers we have created for ourselves, just as Jesus did with the Samaritan woman, and indeed, the whole Samaritan town.

May we not be afraid and let the living water of Jesus’ love satisfy our thirst, and may we share this living water with others.

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

Scripture:

Genesis 37:3-4, 12-13a, 17b-28a
Matthew 21:33-43, 45-46

Reflection:

I do a lot of public speaking and check LinkedIn frequently. One speaker (whom I’ve met) posts regularly on her plentiful national keynotes, active social life, and musical competence. I realize I’m only seeing a snippet of who she really is, yet I can’t help sometimes feeling jealous of her success, talent, and popularity.

That’s called social media envy, and it’s a real danger. Young people spend hours daily on Tik-Tok, Instagram, etc., constantly comparing their lives to others. Everywhere, they see what they wish they had – possessions, likability, beauty, accomplishments, and more – and they try to imitate “influencers” to gain it for themselves. Their perceived “failures” can cause depression, low self-esteem, bullying, suicide, and violence.

It doesn’t require social media, of course. The persistent sin of toxic envy and jealousy has been with us from the beginning when Adam and Eve acted out of “knowledge envy” and Cain’s jealousy at Abel’s perceived status drove him to murder. Look at the biblical story of Joseph and his brothers, and the Gospel about the envious vineyard tenants. While I’m not going to kill anyone of whom I’m jealous, the sin is destructive.

Think about it for a moment. Of whom are you jealous? Who has the life, spouse, money, car, job, vacation, ability, faith, popularity, confidence, sense of humor, or talent that you wish you had for yourself? Would you gladly trade places with them, giving them your life and living theirs? Remember that would require letting go of your own baggage but also of what and who you love. It would require taking on their baggage and what and who they love. Are you so sure they’re happier than you inside? Are they loved for who they are or for those characteristics everyone envies? Do they know the security you seek, or do they feel they have to constantly prove themselves or put on a front to be accepted?

The truth is, we’re all imperfect human beings, with a complicated mix of good, bad, beautiful, and ugly running through our veins. The most genuine, big-hearted, loyal people I’ve met are those who stop comparing themselves against others and wishing for what someone else has. As Socrates said: “He who is not contented with what he has would not be contented with what he wished to have.”

Perhaps this week we can pray for the grace to realize and accept the fullness of what we already have, to live in gratitude for the abundance of our gifts, and rest in the sure and certain knowledge that we are totally, completely loved by God.

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:

Jeremiah 18: 18-20
Matthew 20: 17-28

Reflection:

Service

My main reason for becoming a Deacon in the Catholic Church was to serve. I often wonder if it came down to me sacrificing my life for the Church, would I be willing to die? That is the ultimate sign of love. I cannot be 100% sure I would do that until the moment the situation is at hand. I pray that I could. In the Gospel, Matthew quotes Jesus as saying, “Such is the case with the Son of Man Who has come, not to be served by others, but to serve, to give His own life as a ransom for the many.”—Matthew 20:28

Most people recognize they have an inner desire to serve others. Millions are serving the poor, the sick, children, the elderly, the homeless, etc. At Christmas time, many people are even more conscious of their need to serve. However, service has a tendency to get out of hand. It feels good to serve, but it also hurts to serve. For example, Jeremiah was not only unappreciated for his service to God’s people, he was even “repaid with evil” (Jer 18:20).

After Jesus challenged His apostles to become servants, He called them to become the slaves of all, even to giving their lives for others (Mt 20:27-28). Thus, service for the Lord shifts from our choice to His leading, transitioning to a godly slavery and the cross of Calvary.

Therefore, although we have an inner desire to serve, we also have a strong inner desire not to serve, to limit service, to abort service before we have to suffer and die to ourselves.

Will you drink of the cup (Mt 20:22) of crucified service, and even to serve as a slave of the Lord? Will you let God’s love crucify your flesh and selfishness? (see Gal 5:24) With Jesus, come to serve (Mt 20:28). Come to the cross.

Deacon Peter Smith serves at St. Mary’s/Holy Family Parish in Alabama, is a retired Theology teacher from Holy Family Cristo Rey Catholic High School in Birmingham, a retired soldier from the US Air Force, and a member of our Passionist Family.

Scripture:

Isaiah 1:10, 16-20
Matthew 23:1-12

Reflection:

For they preach but they do not practice.
They tie up heavy burdens hard to carry
and lay them on people’s shoulders,
but they will not lift a finger to move them. -Matthew 23:3-4

Who should I trust? Whom should I follow? Should I obey the rules of grammar that I was taught, exemplified in the second question leading this paragraph, or should I follow contemporary usage, grammatically expressed in the first question? Should I pay my bills online, handing over my data to people and institutions I will never meet, or should I just do business with people I know, meet on a regular basis in my neighborhood and trust?

This growing up business is not easy, I know, I’ve been at it for 77 years now. I believe I have been blessed with a family and community I knew and trusted as exemplified in my father’s words to me when at thirteen years old, I left home to enter the seminary in a school 300 plus miles from our Chicago home: “Dan, I am happy to see you take this step, and I will continue to support you. Just know you will always be part of our family and you’re welcome back in our home if you change your mind.” Eventually, I did change my mind and return home. Back home, my father asked me what I planned to do. When I told him I wanted to go to college, he looked at me in disbelief and asked: “What, don’t you want to make some money?”

I took all this love and support for granted because that was the home and the family in which I grew up. This family went way beyond our front door, and included our neighbors, some of whom attended the same church we did, some to another. That neighborhood and family also included the Passionist’s monastery whose seminary my father gladly sent me and never regretted. Most of us shopped and supported the same businesses most of which were run by neighbors. If not there, my mother would take the Chicago Northwestern Train (today’s it’s the Metra) downtown, about 11 miles from home, often bringing one or more of us along, to shop at the more sophisticated and exotic merchants like Marshall Fields, Weiboldt’s, Sears, and Goldblatts department stores.

Okay, okay, I hear you: “The world of love and care you experienced as a child is gone forever, and there is no utopia. Be careful, Dan.” God, thank you for the many gifts you’ve given me, and help me identify You in my world as suggested in today’s scripture from Matthew as well as in the words of my mother and Ralph Waldo Emerson: “What you do speaks so loudly, I can’t hear what you are saying.”

Dan O’Donnell is a Passionist Partner and a longtime friend of the Passionists.  He lives in Chicago.