Daily Scripture

Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe

Scripture:

Zechariah 2:14-17
Luke 1:26-38

Reflection:

On this feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the patroness of North America, we have an opportunity to reflect upon the significance of our Blessed Mother’s presence, now, in our midst. As she appeared in the midst of the people of Mexico, and in the earliest times, in the midst of the disciples gathered in one room, as Pope Francis puts it in Evangellii Gaudium, “she joined the disciples in praying for the coming of Holy Spirit (Acts 1:14) and thus made possible the missionary outburst which took place at Pentecost.” “Without her,” he goes on to say, “we could never truly understand the spirit of the new evangelization.” (#285)

The Spirit of the new evangelization and what urges me to look to Mary, is the interplay of justice and tenderness, of contemplation and concern for others.

We seek to make our hearts “homes” for others as Mary did in accepting motherhood, birthing the savior of the world.  Catholicism was very, very young in taking root among the indigenous people of Mexico. Catholicism had the greatest challenge of all, to combat genocide. The Spanish conquest and it’s insatiable, and, unstoppable appetite for gold, was leaving the indigenous no alternative but to be enslaved, or die, with disease or starvation. God would send His Mother who would say to Juan Diego, “Let your heart not be troubled…Am I not here, whom am your Mother?”

Let us take time to day to identify, with gratitude how Mary continues to “birth Jesus into the world” through us, as other disciples.

Fr. Alex Steinmiller, C.P. is president of Holy Family Cristo Rey Catholic High School, Birmingham, Alabama.

Third Sunday of Advent

Scripture:

Isaiah 35:1-6a, 10
James 5:7-10
Matthew 11:2-11

Reflection:

Today we celebrate Gaudete Sunday – “Rejoice!” Sunday.  We light the rose candle on the wreath.  The priest and deacon wear rose vestments, signifying the Church’s joy because our God draws near.

The gospel provides us with the reason for our rejoicing: our salvation, our liberation is at hand.  We are called to rejoice, even in the midst of our darkness.  Within the darkness of his prison, within the darkness of his doubts, John the Baptist has his disciples ask Jesus: “Are you the coming one, or should we look for another?”  Jesus may not have been quite the messiah that John and others were expecting.  Otherwise, why, John wonders, is he wallowing in prison instead of doing God’s work?  Why, we might also wonder, is God not fixing our problem?  What kind of God is this?

How does Jesus respond?  Go back, he says, and don’t tell John what I am saying; tell him what I am doing.  Don’t tell John what I am claiming; tell him what is happening.  “The blind regain their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them.”

We may not have the physical ailments Jesus mentions; that isn’t the point.  The point is that these acts are miraculous not only in their physical healing, but in their ability to heal our deepest needs, our darkest doubts.  Perhaps most importantly, Jesus is speaking about a life lived in him, in liberation from that which keeps us from being fully alive, fully mature disciples, fully aware of God’s grace and love.

Jesus may not be the kind of messiah we expect, but he is the messiah we need.  At every Mass during the Communion rite, in the words of John the Baptist, the priest proclaims to us who the Messiah is, and the life-giving food we need: “Behold, the Lamb of God; behold him who takes away the sins of the world.  Blessed are those called to the supper of the Lamb.”

That proclamation is reason enough for rejoicing.
Deacon Manuel Valencia is on the staff at Mater Dolorosa Passionist Retreat Center, Sierra Madre, California.

Scripture:

Sirach 48:1-4, 9-11
Matthew 17:9a, 10-13

Reflection:

It took us a long time to understand clouds because we could only see them from one perspective – the earth. But when I fly in a plane, I get an entirely different view. I see layers of all different sizes and shapes, as varied from each other as the species of trees are on the ground. They appear to be solid, as if one could bounce on these soft, cottony masses or fall asleep cushioned on a billowy blanket.

As we gained sight and perspective on these layers and types of clouds, we learned that despite appearances, they are not solid at all. We began to classify them, understand the conditions under which they occur, and see how they interact with the weather patterns we experience across the globe. (We also learned the turbulence it causes when a plane flies through them!) I can no longer look at clouds from the ground in the same way, knowing there is depth, substance, and a well-coordinated cascade of meteorological activity within them. My old view had to die in order to accept this new and more accurate reality.

With so many things in our world, we think they are one way because our sight is limited. As we discover more, we have to stretch our understanding, let our old views die, and adapt to ever-new realities. Too often we don’t allow that same process to occur with God. Elijah, John the Baptist, and Jesus all called us to repent and turn to God. But to what God are we turning?

Although God cannot be contained, neatly defined, or explained in human terms, the Bible gives us many images of God, all predicated on the biblical writers’ “sight” at the time. The problem occurs when we get stuck on ideas of God that are based on century- or millennia-old perceptions and we cling to them ferociously, instead of recognizing that God is forever showing us new views and teaching us more about the depth, behavior, and impact of the divine Spirit and will. We say God is a mystery, but God is not a mystery because we simply can’t understand. Rather the mystery of God is something we are constantly understanding better, even as we realize that we will never have the whole picture in this life.

Certainly, any view we have of God has to include the Incarnation. When Jesus came, at last we were literally able to “see” God.  He gave us a glimpse of the view from the divine side and opened endless depth, showing us a God of love, inclusion, compassion, creativity, forgiveness, and faithfulness. But many people of his day didn’t “see”. They refused to let their traditional laws and images of God die, to the extent that they killed the messenger who challenged them. Even the disciples interpreted what Jesus said in light of what they knew, what they could see, and what they already believed to be true. Jesus was correcting them up to and including his dying breath.

I believe that if Jesus were walking on the earth right now, he would still be correcting us. He would teach us to put to death all views of a judgmental, exclusive, narrow-minded God whose love we have to somehow earn and who is waiting with bated breath to condemn us to eternal hellfire. He would tell us to stop dividing the world into good guys and bad guys (always counting ourselves on the “good” end, of course) and instead work for a better world for everyone. He would point out that God created, formed, knows, and loves each and every person in all the diversity of humanity, and longs to draw us all into the divine embrace together. And he would remind us that we are “God with skin on” to the world – the face, hands, eyes, and hearts that embody the mystery of God so all may see and better understand.

As we approach the celebration of the Incarnation, I need to do a better job ensuring that I am not blocking the sight of others who are looking for God. What image of God do I convey in my words, my eyes and facial expressions, my attitudes and beliefs, and my actions? To what extent do those I encounter on the street, in the store, and wherever I go see judgment, narrow-mindedness, exclusion, and condemnation? To what extent do they see acceptance, unconditional love, forgiveness, and a glimpse of the infinite God? What do I need to let die in myself in order to more fully birth Christ?

Come Lord Jesus. Help me be an instrument of sight, committed to making the world a better and more just place, and being a window enabling everyone I encounter to know more of the mystery of 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:

Isaiah 48:17-19
Matthew 11:16-19

Reflection:

Let us Dance to the Pipes, and Join with Compassion the Sad

I have found the continuous reading of Scripture at daily Mass an enriching way to open the treasure chest of God’s Word. Smaller units in a chapter work together to show the meaning of the prophets or gospel writers.

Advent is the season when the treasure chest of God’s Word is thrown open. We began with an apocalypse, reminding us of the passing world. We can imagine our early ancestors who waited in darkness expecting ‘they knew not what’. And we listen to our feelings as the short days of winter are upon us, days of bleakness and for many less social interaction – it is on this darkness from the treasure chest of God’s Word that a bright light shines upon us.

We have a different type of continuous reading to help us break open the Word of God. Our readings are specially chosen to guide us through the days of Advent. It is an invitation to our prayerful imaginations and an appeal to an imaginative approach to God’s Word. We have so much around us these days of anticipation to fuel our prayer and bring to life God’s Word.

As we approach the end of the 2nd week of Advent this Friday, we come to an end of a  journey. We began by hearing of a beautiful, safe highway, that will lead the nations together to God. Even where young men grow weary and fall, if we who hope in God we will be renewed and fly as if we had eagles’ wings. We will run and not grow weary, walk and not grow tired. We hear the words of the Lord says to us, ‘Fear not, I will help you’.

On this day’s journey Isaiah tells us that God leads and instructs us. Vindication and prosperity in every way will be ours if we follow. But some do not follow the leader, they do not dance to the joyful music, others are not sad when a song of mourning is sung.

Our Advent journey leads each of us in new pathways where God invites us to go. God’s music plays through us as did the breath of God’s spirit through Mary, the hollow reed of God. We are prophets of hope serving a waiting world. We know the Lord of the Dance who came down to earth and at Bethlehem had his birth. True, one can dance alone, but God chooses not to! Father, Son and Holy Spirit are caught up in the great dance of the Mystery of Love. So, may each Christmas card, each party, each Advent prayer or work be a shared dance of hope with those with whom we share life.

In this time of joy some songs are sung in a minor key. Sorrow and suffering are with us. A beautiful poem from Medieval England says that those who die at Christmas time go immediately to heaven! Words from the middle ages, a time that sounds as if it was very hard to get in to heaven. But compassion for our brothers and sisters unable to rejoice at a Christmas time due to the sadness of death, overcomes the ‘rules’, and the strength and clarity that a Savior is with us moved the popular theologian in all of us in those past day to say to the sorrowing, be at peace, the Savior reigns.

Let us sing and dance as we follow God’s lead on our Advent’s journey.

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

The Immaculate Conception
of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Scripture:

Genesis 3:9-15,20
Ephesians 1:3-6,11-12
Luke 1: 26-38

Reflection:

Today we celebrate the Feast of the Immaculate Conception when we remember that Mary was free from original sin from her very conception We set aside this day to commemorate this tenet of our Faith and to honor Mary in her complete holiness.

Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord.
May it be done to me according to your word.”
Then the angel departed from her.

This verse from today’s Gospel reading tells us of Mary’s encounter with the Angel Gabriel.   In the last few years, we have heard this referred to as Mary’s “yes”.  But we should remember that before Mary said yes she expressed if not a hesitation, at least astonishment.  She wondered, how can this be?  It is important to note that she asked this because it means that she was aware of what the angel was telling her and what she was being asked to do.

As she asked this, she must have been thinking of what it would mean to her to be pregnant.  What could happen to her and to her family if Joseph rejected her?  Being an unmarried mother in those days would have been unbelievably difficult.  She could have been stoned to death, and her family would have suffered greatly.  People were not seen as individuals as they are now, but members of their extended family, and what an individual did reflected on the whole group. Mary’s family would have found it very hard to believe that there was no human father; and her pregnancy could bring dishonor to all of them.

And this is why her acceptance of God’s Will takes on such importance.  She knew that she was being asked to walk a journey she had never anticipated; to change all her plans; to become someone new.

Yet she said “yes” .    And throughout the life of Jesus, she continued to say yes.  When Simeon predicted her sorrows, when Jesus was lost, when she saw her Son crucified and when she held his body.   For Mary, it was always the yes of acceptance.

God honored Mary by filling her with holiness, free of original sin.  Mary honored God by saying yes throughout her life, continually repeating “May it be done to me according to your word.”

What of us?  Do we accept the will of God in our lives?  Can we accept our lives as Christians no matter what it may mean?  Can we say, may it be done according to your will?  Can we live our lives according to God’s Word, according to the message of the Gospel?

Mary Lou Butler is a long-time friend and partner in ministry to the Passionists in California.

Scripture:

Isaiah 40:25-31
Matthew 11:28-30

Reflection:

My father used to jokingly muse: “I work and work and work and is all I get is kids!” He was born to Irish immigrants in 1911 and did what most of the Irish immigrants of his day did, worked hard and had kids. By working hard I mean he would leave the house at 4:30 am six days each week and often not come home ‘til after 5:00 pm. After dinner and a short period he retired for the day around 8:00 pm to start the routine all over the next day.

He had five boys and two girls. He centered his life on his family and while I never doubted my father’s love for us, he really showed that love when he retired and each Sunday his grandchildren would come over to spend the day with grandpa. He died Christmas Eve his favorite day of the year, 1986. I think Isaiah must have been thinking of my dad and the many men like him in his day when he wrote what we read in today’s first scripture selection:

“They that hope in the LORD will renew their strength,
they will soar as with eagles’ wings;
They will run and not grow weary,
walk and not grow faint.”  (IS 40:31)

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

Scripture:

Isaiah 40:1-11
Matthew 18:12-14

Reflection:

“A voice cries out…”. We don’t know who is obeying the order to “speak to the heart of Jerusalem,” but centuries later we associate that voice with John the Baptist, who announces the coming of the Savior.

The voice says what we long to hear, “Comfort, give comfort to my people.”

Will we hear that voice that offers love, reconciliation, peace and justice? The way to hear the voice is to quiet down. Will Rogers said, “Never pass up the opportunity to shut up!” Listening takes “shutting up” time. Friendships survive not only because there are words that need to be said, but also because the two companions can dwell in the silence that connects them.  Good friends can talk, but silence can be a deeper experience and expression of their trust, ease, and commitment.

Advent is a special season that calls us into silence. Ironically, there is so much going on the weeks before Christmas: shopping, cards to mail, gifts to select and wrap, meals to plan, special events to attend, a house to clean and a tree to decorate. It seems there is no room, no time to quiet down. We need to struggle to find ten or fifteen minutes to be in silence.

Larry Gillick, S.J., in his reflection on the readings of Sunday, said, “We are invited by the season of Advent to almost hold our breaths as God does a fantastic athletic act of leaping from eternity into time, from heaven to earth, from Spirit to Flesh, and from mystery to history. We are invited to stand still as the Divine Artist begins painting and sculpturing our image within His.”

We can fully appreciate this truth only in the silence of our heart. If we remain too busy, we’ll miss those words of comfort being announced from the high mountain that God is in love with creation and the words of Jesus that the Father desires no one to be lost.

Fr. Don Webber, C.P., is the director of the Holy Cross Province Office of Mission Effectiveness and resides in Chicago.

Scripture:

Isaiah 35:1-10
Luke 5:17-26

Reflection:

Who has the authority to forgive sins? This was a dilemma in Jesus’ day.  The understanding of sin in first century Jewish culture was for one to miss the mark in their relationship with their divine creator.  As an archer could miss the target, so too sin was missing the mark of where they should be focused.  Therefore,  no human person could make the appropriate amends.  Only God could.  For Jesus to forgive a person’s sins many thought was absolute blasphemy.   For God alone can forgive sins.   Notice that today we have Luke’s version of the event.  Unlike Matthew and Mark’s versions of the event, Luke specifically places this in the context of Jesus teaching.   Luke clearly states that he is teaching the Pharisees and teachers of the law.   Luke places the healing experience in the center of the teachable moment.  And with this, the blind are capable of seeing as they exclaim, “We have seen incredible things today”.

I’m thinking about this gospel because this past week parishes and Catholic schools have been hosting a plethora of penance services as we are in the Advent season.   In listening to our children,  I’m convinced that if I asked any of the little children who can forgive sins they would start with themselves.  “I can forgive sins”.   Some are quite good at it.  They do it regularly.   And I’ve noticed the littler they are, the better they are at forgiving.  Just last month on All Saints day I neglected to see the little second grader across the sanctuary who was supposed to do the greeting.  When I sat down for the Liturgy of the Word there she was, still waiting to do her greeting.  After mass I went up and apologized to her and she just looked at me and compassionately said, “That’s OK”.  And it was easier for her to forgive me than it was for me to accept her forgiveness.   Why is it the older we become the more difficult it seems to be to forgive?    I can conceive with some of the grudges and resentments I’ve seen people hold for so many years that only God and God alone could break through that mark which had been missed.

More meaningful to me than forgiveness of sins is Jesus’ desire to prove his authority.  Luke states, “That you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins—”  And his next actions state the authority he has as both word and deed complement each other.  I believe there are many times in ministry we need to claim that authority.  Recall when Jesus sends out the twelve and the seventy two,  they are asked to do some pretty remarkable things and they can’t do them if they don’t claim the authority with which Jesus empowered them.  Or how about the times we are asked to do some of the corporal works of mercy:  whether it is visiting a prison, a nursing home,  or even parishioners who are shut-ins?  Somewhere deep inside you call upon this authority of Jesus to tell yourself this is the right thing to be doing even when your comfort zone is being threatened and stretched.  And Jesus proves his authority.   And sure enough, when you call upon that authority, the presence of the risen Christ is with you.  And you relate to Christ in a more mature way.

Perhaps as we delve deeper into the darkness of the season, we light more candles on our Advent wreath and   can find ourselves empowered by that light of Christ to claim the authority already invested to us.

 

Fr. David Colhour, C.P. is the pastor of St. Agnes Parish in Louisville, Kentucky.