Daily Scripture

Scripture:

Jeremiah 28:1-17
Matthew 14:22-36

Reflection:

“Take courage, it is I…do not be afraid.”

Jesus and the disciples had been ministering to the crowds, and it was now time to “move on”.  The disciples were to precede Jesus by boat to the other side of the sea while Jesus dismissed the crowds and spent some brief moments in prayer.  During their late-night journey by boat on the sea, the disciples were tossed about by the wind and waves – and their own experience of Jesus’ challenging ministry. Coming across the water, Jesus approaches them and their all-too-human leader, Peter; they think they’re seeing a ghost…  Jesus reassures them:  “take courage, it is I…do not be afraid”.  Their fears were calmed and they journeyed with Jesus as he ministered healing and teaching.  The result:  Jesus met the disciples’ fears, strengthened their faith – and Jesus’ mission continued!

Jesus speaks to our hearts today, inviting us to not be afraid as we courageously offer our lives in service of the Gospel message of love and reconciliation.  We may be tossed about by the winds and waves of contemporary life (e.g. violence, indifference, laziness, selfishness, etc.) and yet God continues to inspire us in the faith-filled lives of our spiritual leaders and fellow companions on the journey.  Let us prayerfully support one another.

Fr. John Schork, C.P. is the Vocation Director for Holy Cross Province. He lives at St. Vincent Strambi Community in Chicago, Illinois. 

Scripture:

Isaiah 55:1-3
Romans 8:35, 37-39
Matthew 14:13-21

Reflection:

During World War I, Isidore De Loor was a Passionist brother who had very simple duties and served as the doorkeeper of our Monastery in Kortrijk – some 15 kms from the front lines in nearby Ypres, Belgium. Thousands of people passed by the Passionist Monastery going to and from ‘the front’, some ill or wounded, some being evacuated, many civilians looking to go to field hospitals to visit the sick or seek a loved one who was lost or wounded.

Isidore tended to them. Feeding them, giving them time, shelter, and a kind receptive heart. Isidore himself had cancer and was to die from that illness only two years into the 4-year war. But his illness did not stop him, and his kindness and compassion shone forth for all to see.

He was a saint in the eyes of the local people; and even some thirty years after the war, when his body was moved from a the town graveyard to a new resting place in our own monastery church in Kortrijk, some 50,000 people came to line the roads and accompany the hearse from the cemetery to the monastery.

Even in the harshest of times, kindness and love are rarely forgotten – even with the advent of many years. I think that memory holds onto kindness because the love that was behind the kind act echoes and remains.

We see this dynamic in today’s gospel text. Jesus turns towards the people because they are needy, he instructs and heals and eventually feeds them – at the very time he had sought solace and solitude having just learned of his cousin John’s death. John has been beheaded by Herod; and the man who Jesus first preached with, who he had known since childhood and presumably had encountered numerous times over the course of his life – had been cruelly taken from him in such a violent, unjust way. Jesus only wants to go to a deserted place and find time to mourn, and yet he puts aside his own needs in order to serve others.

Despite his pain, Jesus’ concern is oriented to others. He sees their needs first and he responds by feeding them. This is courageous. Love itself is courageous. Perhaps that should not surprise us, for as the writer David Whyte reminds us, ‘the origins of the word ‘courage’ is found in old Norman French, Coeur, or heart. Courage is the measure of our heartfelt participation with life, with another, with a community, a work, a future’.

Traditionally when studying today’s gospel – the feeding of the crowd – we have focused our attention on the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and the feeding of all these people at a time and place where they felt lonely and hungry. But perhaps today, instead of focusing so much on the miracle itself, let us see its source – the generous, loving heart of Jesus revealed to us once again. He loved others even amid his own mourning and bearing the pain of loss.

Isidore followed such an example and lived it himself. Today’s gospel invites us to do likewise – Jesus even suggests this to us in the gospel text  – ‘give them something to eat yourselves’. So let us be about the master’s work, and through our loving sacrifices feed those entrusted to us.

Fr. Denis Travers, C.P., is a member of Holy Spirit Province, Australia. 

Memorial of Saint Alphonsus Ligouri, Bishop and Doctor of the Church

Scripture:

Jeremiah 26:11-16, 24
Matthew 14:1-12

Reflection:

Today is the feast of Saint Alphonsus Liguori, the 18^th century Founder of the Redemptorists and a great moral theologian.  He is honored as a “doctor” of the church, a title given to the most influential theologians in the church’s history.

The readings today are not selected specifically for this feast but are part of the sequence of readings we happen to encounter in the midst of this summer.  The first readings for many days now have been from the prophets: Amos, Isaiah, Micah, and now Jeremiah; the gospel readings are taken in sequence from the Gospel of Matthew.   Although the convergence is not by design, in fact, both these selections point to a very persistent and challenging motif of the Scriptures—the dangerous role of genuine prophets.

In the reading from Jeremiah, we learn in his own words that people want to kill him for speaking the truth to powerful leaders of Israel: “This man deserves death; he has prophesied against this city, as you have heard with your own ears.”  The threat does not silence Jeremiah.  He is fortified by the realization that what he says to his people is a message from God, even if the cost of delivering it is the loss of his own life.

Jeremiah is spared this time but not so John the Baptist, who also has the role of prophet many centuries later.  John spoke out against the excesses of Herod Antipas’ court, particularly his incestuous marriage with Herodias. In one of the most vivid stories in the gospels, Herod, a corrupt ruler, is infatuated by the dance of Salome, the daughter of Herodias.  The sotted king, overly lavish and vain in his promise to give her whatever she desires, falls into the malicious trap of Herodias who prompts her daughter to ask for the head of John the Baptist on a platter. And thus, the great desert prophet who announced the appearance of Jesus himself gives his life for telling the truth.

In Matthew’s Gospel, the fate of John anticipates the fate of Jesus himself.  Jesus, too, will lose his life for declaring the truth.  Powerful ruling elites and the Roman procurator will conspire to take the life of the Son of God.

We live in a time when telling the truth seems to be under assault in so many corners of our society.  Speaking the truth, especially “speaking truth to power,” as the saying goes, can be dangerous now as it was then.  Most of us will not have a dramatic, public role as a prophet, such as Jeremiah, John the Baptist, and Jesus himself.  But there are times when we, too, must risk speaking the truth—and living the truth—when it may be costly.  Sometimes we must exercise “tough love” when someone we care for is making a serious mistake in their lives.  Sometimes we have to speak up when innocent people are being maligned.  Sometimes we have to shut down, rather than pass on, false and hurtful gossip.  These, too, are prophetic moments that require the courage and integrity of a prophet.

Fr. Donald Senior, C.P. is President Emeritus and Professor of New Testament at Catholic Theological Union.  He lives at the Passionist residence in the Hyde Park neighborhood of Chicago.

Scripture:

Jeremiah 26:1-9
Matthew 13:54-58

Reflection:

Happy Friday in the 17th Week of Ordinary Time!

The Gospel today (Matthew 13:54-58) tells of Jesus in his own hometown.  The people said, “Where did this man get such wisdom and mighty deeds?  Is this not the son of a carpenter?”  And they took offense at him.  Jesus said, “A prophet is not without honor except in his native place and in his own house.”  And so Jesus did not work mighty deeds there.

Where does a prophet have honor?  Where is a prophet heard?  Not among kin or in familiar surroundings; not among those who lack faith.   God comes to us in the most unlikely forms and talks to us from the most absurd sources.  Or perhaps is it just us who believe that the forms and sources God uses are unlikely and absurd?

The paradox we live and know is that to have faith, we must be familiar with Jesus. But the very stumbling block for the people in the Gospel is the necessary stepping-stone to hear Jesus’ word and accept him.  It’s tough to live our faith in today’s society… Just think about the last time someone came to you and said “I’d like to take a few moments to talk to you about Jesus.” The fact is that if we take seriously our own commitment to live Gospel values, there will be times when we will be faced with misunderstanding, rejection, and ridicule.

All over the Bible, we see how God’s prophets faced rejection and resistance.  And think about your own experiences – Spiritual or Secular – Have you and/or your ideas ever been rejected when you tried to change something for the better?  How do you handle that rejection?  And if we try, I’d wager we all can recall theologians, saints, scientists, doctors, or others who were rejected for their ideas. But what about today? Who are our modern prophets of today?  They are met with rejection and hostility at every turn!

Do we dismiss the innocent yet authentic viewpoint of a young child?  Or the experiential wisdom of the aging parent?  What about the homeless, the gay, the black, the rich, the disabled, the convict?  God made all of these people.  Jesus, Godself, spent most of his time with tax collectors and sinners.  Any one of these people, and more, can offer us the most intimate encounter with the Great & Holy One, and yet, more often than not, we deny the graces and contact with God, just because we judge the messenger “unworthy.”

God works with even these people, as “unworthy” as they might seem.  And yes — God works with even us.  We are called, you and I, to “Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord.” No matter how hard or uncomfortable, we’re the Body of Christ in the world today.

Is it a challenge to “be the only bible some people will ever read?”  YES!

Is it worth it?  Well, I hear the retirement is out of this world.

Dear God, thank you for the gift of trusting us with your Word.  Please help us to never grow weary of sharing your love with all those we meet… especially ourselves. And please grant us the grace to recognize you, and accept you, no matter the vessel you use to reach us.  Amen.

Paul Puccinelli is Director of Liturgy & Music at St. Rita Parish in Sierra Madre, California, and a member of the retreat team at Mater Dolorosa Passionist Retreat Center.

Scripture:

Jeremiah 18:1-6
Matthew 13:47-53

Reflection:

“Like clay in the hand of a potter, so are you in my hand…”

When we think of a potter, we imagine an artist, someone who is taking clay and crafting something beautiful.

In a sense a parent is a potter, trying to raise a child to be good, honest and truthful.  In a sense a teacher is a potter, trying to not only form young minds but also to mold their hearts.  Often friends serve as potters, helping one another shape up and be better.

As a potter, what kind of tools can a parent, teacher or friend use?  Some use fear, threatening punishment.  Some use inspiration, e.g. holding up a saintly grandparent as a good example.  Some use knowledge, teaching values.  Some share experiences, offering insights.  Some use words of encouragement, building up another’s confidence.

One of the best tools a parent, teacher or friend can use, if they want to be a potter, is to lead a child or friend to a deeper spirit of gratitude.  There is transforming power in gratitude.  That is why our central act of worship is the Holy Mass.  At Mass we come to remember, and give thanks.  And it is this gratitude that transforms us.

It is a good practice to write down three things you are grateful for at the end of a day.  Then tomorrow write down three more things, than the next day write down three more things, and on.  Guess what will happen?

“Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life.  It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity.  It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend.  Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow.”  – Melody Beattie

That sure sounds like transformation to me.  God is the potter and we are the clay.  God used parents, teachers, friends, and others to assist him in shaping us into living a consistent attitude of gratitude.  Then, in turn, we become instruments in leading others in giving thanks.  And God’s kingdom becomes more visible – by our smiles.

Fr. Alan Phillip, C.P. is a member of the Passionist Community at Mater Dolorosa Retreat Center, Sierra Madre, California.   http://www.alanphillipcp.com/

Feast of Saint Martha

Scripture: 

1 John 4:7–16
Luke 10:38–42

Reflection:

“God is love, and whoever remains in love remains in God and God in him.”  –1 John 4:16

Growing up in California I would spend some of my time in our, very large Mission fig tree, that was in our backyard. It was very old and its branches were large enough to allow me to recline on them. I had one particular branch that was my favorite. I would climb up and lay back on the branch and watch the sunlight dance between the leaves. It was there that I would ask God many questions in my heart. The one most often asked was, “What is love?” Through my life I have continued to search for the answer and have found it in many ways. Through all of the adventures and experiences of my life I have found that it has many forms and these all come back to its center which is God. Sometimes it is very easy to show love and other times it is difficult. For me, the difficult times is where I really learned about the blessings and graces that come from love.

The first reading from 1 John is a beautiful reflection on love. God loved us enough to send his Son to forgive our sins and all he asks of us in return is to love him and to love one another. How difficult that is at this time in our world. This is one of those times when loving our neighbor as our self can be a challenge. Spending less time reading Facebook posts has helped me not be caught up in the politics of the COVID-19 Virus, Schools reopening, Masks verses no Masks, Riots and all the unrest that remind me of the 1960s and early 1970s. Instead, taking time to reflect as I tend my garden has been the equivalent of laying in my childhood fig tree to gain perspective on life. Once again, this has been a time when I am learning about the blessings and graces that come from love.

In the Gospel reading Martha and Mary are examples of the two types of Christian love. Love shown in the service to others and the love shown to God. This Gospel reading is really about balance. Martha is all upset because she has become so focused on her part that she has forgotten about the other part of serving others. Taking time to be with them and in this case taking time to be with God. Taking time for God to gain perspective on life is an important activity to put into our lives at this time. To find that balance of being Martha and Mary can bring balance back into our lives. With what seems like everything being topsy-turvy, it is balance that we desire. Look for your fig tree today and reflect upon the sunlight dancing through the leaves.

May you and your families stay safe and healthy during these days. Let us continue to pray for our families, friends, country and world.

Linda Schork is a theology teacher at Saint Xavier High School in Louisville, Kentucky.

Scripture:

Jeremiah 13:1-11
Matthew 13:31-35

Reflection:

The smallest things can produce the biggest outcomes – today’s gospel shares the parables of the mustard seed and the yeast. Both small, seemingly insignificant items, but items that produce a huge result – the mustard seed will sprout into “a large bush, and the birds of the sky will come and dwell in its branches” (as well as producing even more mustard seed) and the yeast will produce a result quite out of proportion to its size. When yeast is mixed with “three measures of wheat flour”, it produces enough bread to possibly feed one hundred people.

For us, here and now, the kingdom is a place we long for. Our world is different, illness and anger abide for so many reasons and in so many ways, and the peace and joy that were so easy to obtain are a little more difficult to find – unless you know where to look. But, we know that there is joy in the morning! We are breathing, we are alive, and we know that all of our little attempts of easing someone else’s pain, or doing what we can to make this world better, are the little mustard seeds of faith that keep us going.

We await the transformation that Jesus works in us every day. Be that little mustard seed, or  that teaspoon of yeast, to others. Be compassionate, stay formed in the word of God, and for the love of God, be kind to one another. It only takes a little bit of compassion, patience, love, tolerance, joy (insert your favorite word here) to make the difference in someone’s life. May God continue to bless and protect you all.

Patty Masson is a motivational speaker who resides in Spring, Texas.

Scripture:

1 Kings 3:5, 7-12
Romans 8:28-30
Matthew 13:44-52

Reflection:

Who doesn’t admire King Solomon whom we hear about in today’s first reading? We all know his cunning wisdom about the disputed child and ferreting out the true mother. But we don’t always remember his humble beginning as a leader—because it begins with him being humble:

“O Lord, my God, you have made me, your servant, king to succeed my father David; but I am a mere youth, not knowing at all how to act…. Give your servant, therefore, an understanding heart to judge your people and to distinguish right from wrong.” Solomon at that moment knows himself, what he is and what he is yet to be.

When growing up together with my eight brothers and sisters, we on occasion got into trouble. My father would impose a most impossible punishment. He handed us the Bible opened to 1 Corinthians 13:1-13 and told us to memorize the passage on love by the time he took his shower. And we did!

Much later in life, I realized that if I read this most famous of all New Testament passages as if these words referenced me, it would be a simple yet powerful examination of conscience.

The treatise begins by rooting all good deeds and talents in love:

“If I speak in human and angelic tongues but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away everything I own, and if I hand my body over so that I may boast but do not have love, I gain nothing.”

Then this little experiment gets interesting. Try this, wherever you see or read the word “love,” say “I.” Here, let’s try it:

I am patient, I am kind. I am not jealous, I am not pompous, I am not inflated, I am not rude, I do not seek my own interests or am quick-tempered, I do not brood over injury or rejoice over wrongdoing, but I rejoice with the truth. I bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, endure all things.

Now for the sake of conversation, put in the name of Jesus or some other names instead of “I.” Maybe a spouse, a friend, a parent, a teacher, even a political or church leader. What do we learn? It is humbling. This treatise on love is a call to be more loving in very concrete ways. But as Solomon learned, so can I. So can we.

Robert Hotz is a consultant with American City Bureau, Inc. and was the Director of The Passion of Christ: The Love That Compels Campaign for Holy Cross Province.