Daily Scripture

Scripture:

1 Kings 8:22-23, 27-30
Mark 7:1-13

Reflection:

Some of us remember many years ago, when Catholics were called to observe meatless Friday every week.  Schools, public and Catholic, would serve grilled cheese sandwiches.  The main dinner course at home was fish sticks.  Even restaurants featured meatless Friday specials.  We abstained from meat as a kind of penance and sacrifice to remind us of the passion and suffering of Lord on the cross on Good Friday.  But sadly, over time, many forgot the purpose and meaning of meatless Friday.  No meat? No problem.  How about a feast of salmon steak or grilled trout?  Meatless Friday became for many an empty ritual.  And so, in the late 1960s, Pope Paul VI allowed bishops to end that discipline.  Catholics were now to choose their own meaningful abstention or sacrifice.  (Interestingly, the bishops in England and Wales in 2011 restored meatless Friday.)

Something similar happened with the Jewish ritual of hand-washing and purification of vessels.  It originated to express a deeply felt reverence and love for God.  But by Jesus’ time, the meaning was forgotten.  The Pharisees continued imposing and expanding the rule, even though it had degenerated into an empty and oppressive ritual.

They were scandalized that some of Jesus’ disciples ate their meal with unclean hands.  The phrase in the Greek is literally ate breads, linking this dispute with the miracle of Jesus feeding the 5,000 who ate breads in Mk 6:35-44.  The Pharisees were angered, even though the crowd in the wilderness had no opportunity to wash their hands.  They challenged Jesus on this breach of ancient tradition.

Jesus responded by calling them hypocrites, literally stage actors, whose outward apparent piety disguised their empty hearts and empty ritual.  Jesus was not rejecting tradition per se.  Rather, he was rejecting their human tradition and their hypocrisy in how they practiced these traditions.

Like the Pharisees, we too may risk turning meaningful traditions — and disciplines — into empty legalistic and oppressive ritual.  Whether it is the ritual washing of hands for the Jews of Jesus’ day, or in our day Friday abstention, or even the way we celebrate at Eucharist — do we merely consume bread and wine, or are we transformed by the body and blood? — today’s Gospel reminds us that rituals and liturgy have the power to transform us only when our hearts are grounded in God’s love — especially when we, who are in the wilderness, are in need of God’s cleansing grace.

 

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

Scripture:

Isaiah 58:7-10
1 Corinthians 2:1-5
Matthew 5:13-16

Reflection:

I wonder if there is a mathematical formula that adds together the amount of ‘wintery mix’, very cold weather, and resulting inconveniences, and then projects how out of sorts one can feel? I participated in the application process for the Passionist Volunteers International this week. The Volunteers give a year after college to work in Jamaica, West Indies, assisting in various ways to further the Passionist mission with the poor. Before being invited to a discernment weekend, their applications are read and reflected upon. It wasn’t thoughts of warm, sunny Jamaica that I found up lifting and renewing, but the energy and desire of these young people to use their gifts to help others in need. They shared similar goals: to know other cultures and better society, to share in Christian community, nourish a spiritual life, and to learn.

Today’s gospel is part of the Beatitudes. It follows the nine familiar blessings and calls disciples of Jesus to be the salt, the light and the city on top of the mountain. The Beatitudes are rooted in the Old Testament as we hear from the first reading of Isaiah. Then building on Jewish tradition Matthew tells those following Jesus how to live in the present moment, and to look to the future when the Kingdom of God will come in fullness. There is energy, hope and also suffering.

The followers of Jesus are called Blessed or Happy. They bring to the world the Light who is Christ, they show the One who is Himself the Temple, a New Jerusalem, and they are salt. In living the Beatitudes their actions show Christ to the world. Because Christ is seen in them they show the Father’s love and give Glory to the Father as Jesus does.

Suffering is not pushed under the rug in the Beatitudes. Paul also tells us that when he preaches he speaks only of Jesus Christ, and him crucified. After his eloquent but unsuccessful preaching in Athens he came to Corinth a discouraged man. What could he say to these people? Human wisdom was not enough. No, it was the power of God at work in the mystery of Christ’s apparent failure that was important. There was the mystery that reveals the greatest love and must be preached.

As the cross is present also in the Beatitudes, I think of the young people who shared their life stories and described their personalities and gifts. Sometimes weaknesses were acknowledged, some fears hinted at, and despite such giftedness or because of it, there will be new challenges to growth and conflicts. The mystery of the Cross will be present. It can be no other way if they go as the followers of Christ. More important than their best gifts and eloquence will be how they will let God work through them, and that may not be their first choice. We should pray for them because what they do is very courageous.

The Volunteers will be commissioned publicly one day in the future and go forth to work among the poor. ‘You are the salt of the earth; you are the light of the world; you are a city set atop a mountain’. I am so happy to have met those young people and to know what they want to do. The gospel invites each of us to be like them, to live the Beatitudes and bring their transforming life and hope into our world.

 

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

Scripture:

1 Kings 3:4-13
Mark 6:30-34

Reflection:

Today’s readings are rich with meaning and contain much for us to treasure.  Certainly Solomon’s humble plea for a compassionate heart is one that we should regularly imitate in our prayers;  and Jesus’ care for the hungry multitudes in the Gospel inspires us, as His disciples, to reach out, evangelizing and caring for those in need.  But I am struck by the first line of the Gospel:  "The Apostles gathered together with Jesus and reported all they had done and taught." 

Our lives are so busy, so filled with activities – some worthwhile and important, and others- not so much.  Our prayer is often about asking or about getting away from it all: finding quiet time, escaping the hustle and bustle to bask in God’s love.  And this is surely a good thing.  Retreating from the world and materialism and the things that encumber our lives is necessary for our spiritual being and growth, and coming to God with our needs is always a beautiful prayer.    But, we are, after all, called to be to be about Christ’s work in all that we do.  I wonder if we made reporting all that we have done part of our daily prayer, if it wouldn’t help us to be better disciples.  In the business world, regular reporting of activities is a wise operational function.  Maybe it would also be a good idea for our spiritual life.

I wonder what the Apostles said when they gathered together with Jesus and shared what they had done.  Did they perhaps talk about  the supper they had eaten with a village family and how they told them of the Messiah or did they let him know about a crying child they tried to comfort or did they maybe relate how a ripped sandal had prevented them from travelling as far as they had planned.

What would you say if you reported to Jesus ALL that you have done this day?  Maybe the very fact that we are reporting might help us make better decisions about what we do, about how we use our time and resources.   As they say, "Couldn’t hurt."

 

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

Memorial of Saint Scholastica

Scripture:

1 Kings 8:1-7, 9-13
Mark 6:53-56

Reflection:

It happened again today. I received a religious email promising that if I forward it to a certain number of other people, God would do something amazing in my life. I did not forward it. God continues to do amazing things in my life.

A speaker at a conference recently told about his visit to Portland. Going into Starbucks the morning after he arrived, he almost literally had to step over a homeless woman with a red scarf around her neck. The next morning at Mass, he approached the table for Communion and the minister offering him the Body of Christ was the same homeless woman, red scarf still in place.

Ever since antiquity, when Solomon built a temple as the one and only home where God would dwell, we have tried to control God and God’s actions according to our own specifications and human-made images of the Divine.  Although I do not create or forward those email chains, I am essentially doing the same thing when my prayers dictate to God what I want done (or express my frustration that God is failing to comply).  How often do I speak of my "prayer life" as if it were a separate and more God-centered reality than my daily life, instead of looking for God in every mundane moment (and person)? Far too often I tuck God away in my pocket, conveniently ready to pull out when I am in need. I avoid God’s challenging voice or refuse to listen when I know I need to change something I’d rather hang onto. I have misjudged a person, believing he or she has nothing to teach me, only to discover a vibrant and trusting faith that leaves me in awe. I can only wonder how many opportunities and graced experiences I’ve missed because God wasn’t acting as I expected or telling me what I wanted to hear. Perhaps I would miss Jesus standing right in front of me because he wasn’t behaving according to my ideas.

Repeatedly I discover that God is wiser than I am, refusing to be neatly defined, put into a box, or contained within a building or an institution. God is God and I am not, and my challenge is to maintain an open heart to the expansive, unpredictable ways of the God of surprise.  I’m not very good at it yet. I tend to be a control freak, and old patterns are hard to change. Although it formed the basis of my faith, in some ways my Catholic upbringing isn’t always helpful, centered as it was on maintaining narrow parameters that defined how God acts, declared who is acceptable, and promoted endless ways we should condemn and exclude people. But I know I need and want to keep changing.

My prayer today is that I can take down the walls of all the boxes I built for God and shatter my every concept of where God is to be found. I pray that I can continually become more comfortable with the sure knowledge that I am not in control and never will be. I pray that God will act in my life in the ways I most need instead of in the ways I expect. I pray that God will send me to whomever I can serve, regardless of how they are viewed by others, and soften my heart to receive the gifts God wants to give me through them.

I also pray for our Church, that we may whole-heartedly follow the Gospel-centered example of Pope Francis and become an ever-brighter beacon, drawing people not to a predictable God that we can define and contain, but to the God of surprise, joy, challenge, sacrifice, and pure love.  May we all see warm, inclusive red scarves wrapped around each person, and reverently approach the Body of Christ dwelling within.

 

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.amyflorian.com/.

Scripture:

Sirach 47:2-11
Mark 6:14-29

Reflection:

As a high school Passionist seminarian, I had great hopes of saving the world. I wanted to be like David so beautifully described in our first reading for today.

 

"He made sport of lions as though they were kids,
and of bears, like lambs of the flock.
As a youth he slew the giant
and wiped out the people’s disgrace…" Sirach 47: 3-4

I got my first hint that that dream might be a bit challenging when I got a response back from a letter I had sent to my older sister Marianne who had just gotten married. She wrote back that she could handle her own marriage, thank you, and that I’d best concentrate on being the best seminarian I could be and not intrude in others’ lives, especially lives of people that I had no inkling of what they were about. I didn’t keep that letter, but I remember the advice to this day.

I did keep a letter she wrote four years later. I was in the Novitiate then and thinking about leaving. In that letter she told me: "Furthermore if you might decide actually you are selfish and the priesthood is no place for you–forget about the married state too."

It’s hard for this old man, and I imagine even harder for the young man in the novitiate to hear today’s first reading and not want to conquer the world, to save it and be a hero like David. My sister’s letter taught me that it’s me I have to conquer. I am the enemy.

Today, I try to do this by giving thanks as David did further in the reading, accepting the life, gifts and the faults I’ve been given and making the most of them. Maybe, but probably not, many years after my demise, someone will say like they said of David: "Remember that Dan, he conquered the enemy, he slew Goliath; he showed the way. What a great guy!"

 

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

Scripture:

I Kings 2:1-4, 10-12
Mark 6:7-13

Reflection:

First Book Kings begins with the death and burial of King David. David’s end is Solomon’s beginning, his reign as the new King of Israel, David’s son and builder of the first Temple in Jerusalem. Solomon is recognized for his wisdom, wealth and power, but also for his sins of idolatry and turning away from Yahweh which will lead to the kingdom being divided. The main prophet during this time will be Elijah. Look forward to some old stories of triumph and tragedy during the next two weeks.

At the end of November, in an 85-page document, Pope Francis wrote, "I prefer a church which is bruised, hurting and dirty because it has been out on the streets, rather than a church which is unhealthy from being confined and from clinging to its own security." In today’s Gospel the Twelve are sent out with power and authority to do what Jesus has been doing: preaching the Kingdom, calling people to repent, liberating people from compulsions, and healing the sick. Jesus wanted the Twelve to get their hands dirty by being out on the streets. By word and deed they acted on what they preached and made the Kingdom a reality in people’s lives.

When Jesus spoke of power and authority, he did something often ignored. He linked power and authority with love and humility. The "world" often seeks power for selfish gain. The "world" desires to keep its hands clean and be above the mess. Jesus teaches us to use power and authority for the good of our neighbor.

The Church is to be on the streets to help alleviate what ails the world; the Church is to be on the streets to heal; the Church is to be on the streets to evangelize, challenging the world with different values, attitudes and lifestyles.

A man worked at a firm and constantly complained about it to his friends, neighbors, family and associates. He complained about the place to anyone who would listen. When his oldest son grew older, the dad offered to see if he could get his son a job at the company. The son replied, "Dad, why would I want to work at such an awful place?" Feeling hurt, the father asked, "Why would you think it is such an awful place?" The son replied, "Because the people are the place and you are not happy." The people are the place. If we want people to become Catholic, if we want people to grow in their relationship with Jesus Christ, then we need to be the place.

Are we active in the Church or just spectators watching from the sidelines? Are we inviting people to a new life, or are we keeping our hands clean. Are we a healing force in the world or are we shaking our heads instead of shaking hands? If we do not let the love of God flow through us in active service, then how will anyone know what God’s love is like? If we do not work to heal others of their pain, then how will others ever know the healing power of Jesus?

Dirty hands can point to a healthy Church.

 

Fr. Don Webber, C.P., is Provincial Superior of Holy Cross Province and resides in Chicago.

Scripture:
2 Samuel 24:2, 9-17
Mark 6:1-6

Reflection:
"What mighty deeds are wrought by his hands!
Is he not the carpenter, the son of Mary, and the brother of James and Joseph and Judas and Simon?
And are not his sisters here with us?"
And they took offense at him."

"Local boy does good" is writers’ shorthand for a story about a locally-known, but previously insignificant, fellow making it big. This is just the sort of news that was being spread about Jesus in his hometown. "What mighty deeds are done by his hands!" But then the mood of the crowd turns. Why is this?

As a teacher, I am often asked to share my insights on a child’s behavior with his or her parents. It is usually the case that when I tell a mother or father how their child has been behaving, they look incredulous and exclaim "Why doesn’t he act like that at home?" They often express surprise at how well mannered and helpful their child has been to others.

This sometimes happens between spouses as well. One is told how lucky they are to have such a nice person as their spouse, while thinking, "yes, but you should see the mess they leave in the bathroom." It is almost human nature for us to hold those closest to us to a higher standard of behavior then people that we don’t know as well.

Jesus’ friends and family recognize the reports of His great and mighty deeds. But they just can’t accept the fact that this fellow that they know and grew up with, has accomplished all of this. And this doubt hinders his ability to work mighty deeds. It seems we do the same when we hold those around us (especially those we love) in low esteem. We hinder them. We keep them from being all who they can be. It can be a challenge to see someone we know so well with fresh eyes. To look at them the way a stranger does. Or even better yet, to see them as God does.

Today I pray that I see those in my  "native place" as they truly are. A beloved child of God, capable of mighty deeds.

 

Talib Huff is a volunteer and presenter at Christ the King Retreat Center in Citrus Heights, California.

Scripture:

2 Samuel 11:1-10, 13-17
Mark 4:26-34

Reflection:

"To what shall we compare the Kingdom of God…"

In today’s Gospel we have two parables where Jesus uses two different images about seeds to express the mystery of God’s kingdom. 

When our three children were each in their early years of school, they all were involved in that somewhat universal school project, you know the one, where you plant a seed in a little container, water it, put it on the classroom windowsill, and by the end of the school year it’s sprouted and grown. It’s a great lesson about patience and about how things work.
It’s also a lesson about the kingdom of God. Jesus uses seeds today to tell us what His kingdom is like and how we are called to be of service.

In the first parable, the seed is sown by the farmer and he simply waits for harvest time. The cycle of growth follows its own secret rhythm; how it happens the farmer does not know.

In the second parable, Jesus compares the kingdom to the little mustard seed that grows into the largest shrub so that the birds of the air can shelter and nest in it.

So what can we learn from these two kingdom parables about seeds?  Well, several things.

The first is that the kingdom of God has a life of its own – with or without us.  The farmer scatters the seed; but it grows into fullness on its own – even while he is asleep. 

Our faith is a mysterious gift of grace from God… a gift that God brings to fullness within us.  Faith is not something that we can manufacture within ourselves. God first put it on our hearts.  As we pray and try to be of service to God’s people, in response to that seed of faith, God continues to bring our faith into greater maturity. 

In the second parable, Jesus gives us that familiar comparison of the kingdom of God and a mustard seed that starts out so very, very small – yet ends up as the largest of plants.

Obviously then, we see that God can do much with very little. Each and every one of us can be used as instruments by God to accomplish great things for the kingdom.

Maybe we don’t want to think that way because if we do then we have to accept our responsibility to nurture that seed and to spread our faith. No one can exclude him or herself by claiming that our faith is insufficient.  It only takes faith the size of a mustard seed. Others of us may not want to think this way because if we do, then we have to honor and reverence each and every human person who searches in any way for God. We have to put aside our differences and quit judging. Who knows, God may very well take someone whose faith is tiny and use that person to do great things, maybe for even greater things than he uses us !! Thinking this way requires a lot of humility on our part.

There are a lot of those mustard seeds out there – lots of them dropping to the ground awaiting an opportunity to grow.  Our challenge is to nourish, and not judge, those whose faith is small…

 

Deacon Brian Clements is a retired member of the retreat team at Mater Dolorosa Retreat Center in Sierra Madre, California.