Daily Scripture

Scripture:

Isaiah 6:1-8
Matthew 10:24-33

Reflection:

What does a 5^th century hermit cave dweller and monk have to do with us in the 21^st century?  We might ask that same question about a prophet who was caught up in the sway of a mystical vision nearly 3,000 years ago, or about a persecuted and cowering Mediterranean Christian community 2,000 years ago?  The answer lies in the words of Jesus in today’s Gospel: “It is enough for the disciple to be like the master” (Mt 10:25), meaning that we students, we disciples are challenged to learn obedience and radical trust in God from Jesus.

St. Benedict of Nursia (480-540), the Father of Western monasticism lived a hermit’s life in a cave for many years.  His holiness, however, so attracted followers that he eventually went to Monte Cassino where he founded a monastery.  There he wrote what came to be known as The Rule.  It was to shape monastic life in Western Europe profoundly until the middle of the 11^th century.  In fact, Benedict’s Rule has been the model for many religious communities even today.  The Rule is concise – barely 12,000 words.  Yet, unmistakably, obedience is its main emphasis.  But Benedict’s understanding of obedience did not mean heavy-handed authority or joyless commandments.  No.  Benedict saw obedience in relation to a transformation of the self within community, and a restoration of relationship with God.  Benedict’s monks were students called to a special way of life in order to imitate Jesus and to learn obedience and trust in God.

In today’s first reading, God called Isaiah to mission.  Isaiah’s apocalyptic-like vision revealed his sinfulness, and his unworthiness to be God’s choice as prophet to his community.  “Whom shall I send?  Who will go for us?” God asked.  Despite his inadequacies, Isaiah trusted in God, and like a good student, shouted, “Here I am.  Send me!” (1Is 6:8).

The evangelist Matthew wrote his Gospel, in part, to fortify and exhort his community in the throes of persecution and fear.  In chapter 10, the Matthean community read how Jesus called his rag-tag, mixed bag of disciples by name and sent them out with the words: “Proclaim the Good News!  The Kingdom of Heaven is near.  Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons.”  And Jesus added “Do not be afraid” (Mt 10:31).  God chose this early Christian community to imitate the teacher, Jesus, and, in obedience, to proclaim the Good News.

Returning to the questions at the beginning of this reflection, what do all these students have to do with us today?  Just this: like them, God chooses us, not because we are so holy or saintly, but precisely because we are broken, uncertain, inadequate.  God calls us by name, asking over and over, “Whom shall I send?”  Will we students learn obedience and trust from our teacher?  Will we go out to proclaim the Good News to the ill and despairing among us?  Will we heal the sick with compassion, raise those dead to hope with acts of kindness, and cast out demons of despair?  Do we, who today are caught in this pandemic moment, feel utterly inadequate to respond to God’s call?

God’s question, nevertheless, remains unchanged.  It echoes across the millennia: “Whom shall I send?”  God awaits our obedient and trusting response: “Send me.”

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

Scripture:

Hosea 14:2-10
Matthew 10:16-23

Reflection:

Many years ago, I was teaching at a religious conference with a friend. She came to me distraught and relayed that without warning a very prominent man at the conference pinned her against a wall and forcibly kissed her until she was able to break free and get away. I hugged her and listened as we tried to figure out what to do. It would be a big deal to report someone everybody knew and respected.

She decided to get advice from another person who also had a large role. He told her to stay silent because the guy had a reputation and she would just become a conference joke. We were shocked, but too young, naïve, and (we felt) unimportant to make more of it.

Many years later, after my friend married, had kids, and built a life for herself, the truth began to emerge. More than two dozen women reported incidents against that same man. Seeing that, my friend joined them. A newspaper reporter investigating it asked if they could use her real name, which could trigger repercussions, attacks, and potential loss of work. She asked me whether I would back her up and also give my name to corroborate her account. I told her I would do whatever she needed, including using my name, and we would weather the fallout together. So far, she has elected to use a pseudonym. The fear is palpable and the risk is real.

This is only one example to illustrate what Jesus points out: There is a cost to speaking up. In his time, the risk was being hauled before kings and being persecuted. In our day, internet trolls lurk everywhere. Judgment and condemnation abound. Our polarized society pounces and attacks anyone with whom they disagree. Respectful dialogue is buried under entitlement, power hunger, tribalism, and self-righteousness.

Unfortunately, this extends to our Church. It is difficult to have a civil discussion about women’s role, the LGBTQ community, racial disparity, abortion, communion, divorce, or a myriad of other issues facing us. Must we be caught up in division and polarization too? Must we join the attackers who refuse to engage in dialogue and exploration? Must we exclude those with whom we don’t agree? Must we stay “safe” in homilies rather than cause any discomfort in the congregation? In what ways have we become those that Jesus warned us against?

Just as importantly: In what ways have we personally been afraid to speak up against injustice? In what ways do we stay silent because it’s easier, we fear being attacked, we don’t want to be a “joke”, or the injustice being perpetrated doesn’t directly affect us in our lives? If we refuse to speak up, who will?

The incident with my friend and the ensuing 20 years of silence, in addition to all that is happening in our society and world right now, has seriously challenged me. I am looking hard at all the ways I have stayed silent and therefore complicit with injustices, bullying, prejudice, and polarization. I invite you to do the same. Let’s decide to get on Jesus’ side and speak up for what is right, even though it may prove costly to do so. We can weather the fallout together.

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:

Hosea 11:1-4, 8e-9
Matthew 10:7-15

Reflection:

Missionaries Should Wear Diamond Rings

Beginning yesterday we read for six days Matthew’s instruction on being a missionary. Jesus offers encouragement: “The gift you have received, give as a gift,” “When the hour comes you will be given what to say,” “He who welcomes you welcomes me,” money is not your goal, don’t be afraid, proclaim what you hear from the housetops! At times you will be offered the cup of cold water, or be invited to stay and eat a meal.

We also hear sobering observations: some are hauled into court and violence happens among family members. Like Jesus, you bring peace but also division.

God’s humor has no end. Imagine being a Christian missionary and then being called an atheist by pagans because you didn’t offer sacrifice to the gods!

We are missionaries, we are sent. Our moment is difficult. It deals with the virus pandemic, its resulting confusions and uncertainties. There are also painful expressions of hurt for what has taken root in our culture as acceptable yet is full of blind malice. The resulting upheaval for justice and equality for all men and women is frightening, both physically as gun violence soars, and armed people flashing weapons are common; and internally as values are challenged and discarded with no dialogue.

As missionaries, we go making the announcement, “The reign of God is at hand!”

Hosea today tells us to remember. God remembers as a mother would her tender love for Israel. She asks Israel to remember too; and stir up your love again.

I discovered a ‘missionary’ in the poet Gerard Manley Hopkins recently. Becoming a Roman Catholic while at Oxford, later a Jesuit in the mid1800’s, he brought division in his family. He knew privilege from his education and social class, but he also knew what it meant to be a victim when others’ decisions limited his freedom. In Dublin and Liverpool, he saw industrialization destroying the poor and the environment, both he loved, both were precious to him. He was a missionary in his prayer and speech that England would find her way to union with Rome. Hopkins was an ordinary missionary like us in the faithfulness of friendship and in pondering and mourning the many suicides of his companions from university days.

In The Wreck of the Deutschland, his first major poem he sees a dying nun as a symbol of confidence in God. She calls out, “Christ, come quickly”. In a poem only months before his death, when he was beaten up by discouragement, he uses the beautiful words, ‘immortal diamond’. Like Hosea he remembers, he remembers the nun, and says of himself, ‘across my foundering deck shone a beacon, an eternal beam…I am all at once what Christ is since he was what I am…is immortal diamond.’

Can we explain being a missionary? Shipwreck and hope, feeling lost, a sharper vision of what Christ’s love asks, a growing love that makes painfulness sharper. It is being Christ, it is that immortal diamond, ‘the reign of God is at hand.’

Father William Murphy, CP is the pastor of Immaculate Conception parish in Jamaica, New York.

Scripture:

Hosea 10:1-3,7-8,12
Matthew 10:1-7

Reflection:

The Kingdom of Heaven is the Law of Love

There is a spiritual battle in this world, and it is all about the law of love. It’s between the Lord’s way of life (poverty, humility, and service) and the world, with its laws and values of wealth, vanity (excessive pride in or admiration in one’s appearance and achievement) and pride (excessive concern for appearance). One leads to love, the other to death. What is your state of life? Will your heart become more a friend of Jesus and love? Will it be more poor, more humble, more dedicated to service? Allow the love of Jesus to take root in you.

In the first reading Hosea says to the people of Israel, “Sow for yourselves justice, reap the fruit of piety, break up for yourselves a new field, for it is time to seek the LORD, till he comes and rain down justice upon you.” It’s all about love. When compared to today’s Gospel it is the same message. Love of one another. Jesus has authority to call back the sinners, the repentant, to Himself and heal them too.

Jesus summoned his Twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits to drive them out and to cure every disease and every illness.” Reaching out to those who are hurt, and sick is what the disciples are doing. Jesus sent out these Twelve after instructing them thus, “Do not go into pagan territory or enter a Samaritan town. Go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Those lost sheep today are our fallen away Catholics. We can reach out to those who have fallen away. Jesus said, “The harvest is abundant, but the laborers are few.” We can offer gentle instruction to those who do not know how to start again to live their Faith. We can show them how to begin again and start receiving the sacraments, the gifts of grace which come to us through the apostles and their successors. This can be done by our Bishops and Priest, but often, it will be ordinary Christians who point those lost sheep in the right direction. It’s all about love.

The Lord sends us into spiritual combat. It is a fight to the death that he himself has undertaken, and one that we too are invited to identify as our own ultimate battleground, conscious that it is God’s war. For it is a war waged “against the enemy of human nature.” That is, in the language of Saint Ignatius, the Devil or Demon. It is also the war waged by  “the friend of human nature,” the Lord Jesus, who wants to win us for God and to recapitulate in himself all that is good in creation, in order to offer it to the Father, to the praise of his glory. The Law of love will always prevail.

What is at stake in this war? To me it is whether in my heart, as well as in the heart of the Church and of humanity itself, the Kingdom of heaven will be established, with its law of love and the Lord’s way of life: poverty, humility, and service. Or whether the kingdom of this world will triumph, with its laws and values of wealth, vanity, and pride.

It is very characteristic of St. Ignatius to have us contemplate the mysteries of the life of the Lord while at the same time inviting us, “to investigate and ask in what kind of life or in what kind of state his divine majesty wishes to make use of us. And if we have already chosen a state of life, we should reform it for the better.” This is not a question of fulfilling one’s responsibilities or positions of service but of something deeper and definitive: it is a matter of my state of life. And this should not be understood as an external form but as a vital principle of life. Again, I ask, will your heart become more a friend of Jesus? How can you become more like him, more poor, more humble, and more dedicated to service? In what state of life, or through what reform to your state of life, will the love of Jesus take definitive root in you? Does your heart have the law of love embedded in it? The Kingdom of Heaven is the Law of Love.

Deacon Peter Smith serves at St. Mary’s/Holy Family Parish in Alabama, is a religion teacher at Holy Family Cristo Rey Catholic High School in Birmingham, and a member of our Passionist Family.

Scripture:

Hosea 8:4-7, 11-13
Matthew 9:32-38

Reflection:

Two events in the last week make me wonder what this life business really all about. The first I was working in the courtyard of the condo where I live here on the north side of Chicago, weeding. I have been doing this for the last two weeks—the courtyard is rather large and has lots of weeds, we have no grass, but only trees and shade-loving plants and weeds, weeds, weeds. This particular morning a young couple who I did not recognize got out of their car with their baby. The man came over to me and started thanking me profusely and telling me that I made him feel guilty. Evidently, he’d been watching me these past couple of weeks. Anyway, I assured him, that this is what old retired people must do. It makes us feel more part of the community. I am just happy to be able to contribute to our common good. This led to more sharing, he introduced me to his wife. We got to know each other and I proceeded to really enjoy what I had been doing.

The second event also involved a conversation. A friend called on the phone to ask how I was enjoying our prayer time together. I assured him that this COVID-19, which brought on our new way of praying together, for me has been a true blessing. I rediscovered “my” prayer community, one that I really haven’t been a meaningful part of since the 1980’s when I left the northwest side of the city and moved into the city.

Only upon reflecting on these two events did I realize how essential for me are community and prayer.

Somewhere in the family archives, I think my brother Dave has it, is a picture of my parents on their honeymoon with my father a whip in his hand and my mother sitting next to him. They are in a horse-drawn buggy for two in front of the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island in the year 1934, the middle of the Depression here in the U S. This picture points to an anomaly. While my parents both came from families familiar and comfortable with horses and the era before the invention of the automobile. My father was the first one to drive a motor-driven milk wagon for the local dairy where his father was the vet who took care of the horses. My father was an early adopter with new technology, and yet very comfortable with the old ways as well.

People who know me, know that I have been a proponent for online since the early 2000s, largely due to my experience of working with boys with special needs who seemed to thrive online in comparison to face-to-face settings. Now, that the rest of the world seems to have awakened to this rather new technology (actually, I first participated in an online video conference in the early 1980s) I find myself going back to the horse and buggy era and enjoying it. I’m baking bread, working in the garden, and yes, sheltering in place.

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

Scripture:

Hosea 2:16, 17b-18, 21-22
Matthew 9:18-26

Reflection:

Today’s Gospel jars me from the temptation to accept a private, Jesus-and-Me spirituality.

At first reading, this section of Matthew’s Gospel appears to be to be two amazing miracles by a compassionate Jesus. But a deeper reading of the context and culture, however, reveal how prophetic the words and deeds are. And the challenge they present to me.

The Palestinian world of Jesus’ time was an honor culture. Men, to be accepted and have influence, focused on defending their status and entitlement. Women who stepped from their limited, powerless roles would be instantly shamed.

In this engrained patriarchal culture, women never asserted themselves socially, especially not in public life. They had no money or property, let alone influence.

For a woman who had been sick for 12 years to interrupt Jesus’ journey to cure the daughter of the male “official,” who enjoyed status and power in the town, was unthinkable.

Instead of publicly pleading with Jesus, she clandestinely came behind him and touched the tassel of his cloak, perhaps trying to avoid being shamed for asserting herself.

When Jesus realized what she had done, he slashed through the cultural mores and did the opposite of shaming her. He en-couraged her and raised her status with a simple wish: “Courage, daughter!” His strong words and the cure soundly condemned the unjust standards of his day. Simultaneously he put the powerless, ailing woman on the same level as the “official” and his daughter.

He recognized immediately the class-less, status-less, power-less essence of our relationship with him: faith.

He then moves on to visit the sick girl. Based on the faith of her father, not his position in the community, he dismisses the ridiculing crowd and raises the dead child.

Praying over these two stories I ask myself these questions:

*How strong is my faith in Jesus?

*Do I trust his wisdom over mine?

*Do I believe, by surrendering everything to Jesus, I will find fullness of life?

*What social expectations do I carry with me that keep me from freely giving all to Jesus?

*What social barriers to justice and equality do I work to dismantle?

This prayerful examination of conscience can shake my serene “Jesus-and Me” understanding of religion. As a result, I am free to be bold in every act of love and every effort to build a just world.

Jim Wayne is a board member of the Passionist Solidarity Network (PSN), and author of The Unfinished Man. He lives in Louisville, Kentucky.

Scripture:

Zechariah 9:9-10
Romans 8:9, 11-13
Matthew 11:25-30

Reflection:

See, your king shall come to you… riding on a donkey. –Zechariah 9:9

For my yoke is easy, and my burden light. –Matthew 11:30

I don’t know about you, but I definitely have a tendency to overthink things. Especially now in the time of Covid-19, when I have plenty of time to think, I find myself returning to events of the past day/year/lifetime where I feel like could have handled things much better.  It’s very easy to find my sins of the past. And I often find myself ruminating (chewing over and over again) on these perceived mistakes.

So why do I bring this up in light of today’s readings? Some scholars believe that at the time of Jesus there were 613 individual commandments that a good Jew needed to abide by in order to be in right relationship with God. Given the trouble I have with ten, I can’t imagine how hard this would be. But what does Jesus have to say about this?

First let’s look at the reading from Zachariah: “See, your king shall come to you; a just savior is he, meek, and riding on an ass.” As Christians, we see this as a prophecy, a foretelling of Jesus entering Jerusalem in a donkey. if you look up the symbolism of a donkey you’ll find in Wikipedia “Narrative turning points in the Bible (and other stories) are often marked through the use of donkeys — for instance, leading, saddling, or mounting/dismounting a donkey are used to show a change in focus or a decision having been made.” So, some change is indicated by Christ entering Jerusalem on a donkey.

Next, in the Gospel Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.” Jesus is encouraging us to make a change. For we must take off our current yoke to take up His. So, what are these yokes? I think the old yoke is not so much the 613 laws of the Torah or the Ten Commandments but the self-doubt and recrimination that comes from doubting our relationship with God. That voice that is constantly whispering in our ears that we are not good enough, active enough, worthy enough, to be loved by God.

And what is the yoke of Jesus? Love. Love God. Love your neighbor. And love yourself.

My prayer today is that I listen to my Lord and lay down the yoke of fear and sin and take up His yoke of Love.

Along with working as an independent teacher, Talib Huff volunteers and works at Christ the King Passionist Retreat Center in Citrus Heights, California. You may contact him at [email protected].

Scripture:

Amos 9:11-15
Matthew 9:14-17

Reflection:

Pandemics & Possibilities: Thinking Outside the Box

It’s July 4^th:  For citizens of the U.S.A., a time to both reflect on and celebrate the dynamics of our nation’s history.  And the liturgical Scripture selections for “ordinary time”, the Saturday of the 13^th week of the year, offer us reason to pause and reflect deeply on our faith as it impacts life today.

Our reading from the prophet Amos flows from his reputation as a prophet of both doom and hope!  Israel had been unfaithful to its covenant with God; they had been punished – thus Amos speaks of Israel’s restoration:  rebuilding the ruins, the “basics” of life restored, a sense of being “home”… a new age, a fertile earth – flowing from an abundance of God’s love.

Matthew’s Gospel pictures the disciples of John the Baptist questioning Jesus about the demands of fasting.  Jesus uses a variety of images – a wedding celebration, patching a piece of fabric, the care of new wine – to help them understand that, in Him, God is sharing a new image of God.  God’s love is fresh, new, abundant; God is forgiving, generous, loving.  Jesus challenges them to “think outside the box”.

Today we are invited to embrace the opportunities and challenges of life.  This time of the global “pandemic”, with catastrophic illness and death:  yes!  Social unrest and calls for a change of attitude and practice in the U.S.:  yes!  Contemporary “prophets” of doom and gloom, fanning fear with selfishness and mistrust:  yes.  Today, today:  Jesus invites us to have faith in Him,  to “think outside the box” and see the bigger / global picture, to accept and share God’s generous life and love, so powerfully revealed in His suffering and death on the Cross.

In keeping with July 4^th, Psalm 85 speaks of God’s gifts of peace, kindness, truth, justice, salvation – the needed message of hope and encouragement for the U.S. and our world this July 4^th.  Encouraged by the prophet Amos of old and one another’s example, may Jesus bring about new Life for our world!

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