Daily Scripture

Scripture:

Ezekiel 1:2-5, 24-28c
Matthew 17:22-27

Reflection:

In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus makes the first prediction of his coming passion and death late in Chapter 16.  This prediction bewilders, confuses and frustrates his disciples resulting in the occasion in which Peter took Jesus aside rebuking him saying: “God forbid, Lord!” No such thing shall ever happen to you”.  Of course, Jesus, in turn rebukes Peter telling him to “Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me.  You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.”  This interchange is followed directly by Jesus’ discussion of the conditions of discipleship, involving each of his followers to take up their own crosses to follow him.

Shortly thereafter in Chapter 17, Jesus presents the second prediction of his passion and death.  He tells his disciples: “The Son of Man is to be handed over to men, and they will kill him, and he will be raised on the third day.”  The verse then describes the disciples as being “overwhelmed with grief”.  However, there is no additional discussion about the second prediction.

Rather, the Gospel turns immediately to a discussion in Capernaum between Peter and the collectors of the temple tax (distinct from Roman taxes) about whether the teacher pays the temple tax.  Obviously, to fulfill the prophesy of his own passion and death, the Jewish authorities have begun to bait Jesus and his followers.  However, since his time had not yet come, Jesus thwarts the temple tax collectors’ devices by instructing Peter to “go to the sea, drop in a hook, and take the first fish that comes up. Open its mouth and you will find a coin worth twice the temple tax. Give that to them for me and for you.” 

It is not uncommon for certain species of fish to ingest shiny objects off of a lake bottom or the seafloor.  In this passage, Jesus knew the precise moment in time and place when a certain fish would appear with an ingested coin that would be worth twice the temple tax.  While this clever diversion by Jesus forestalls the Jewish authorities attempts to build a case against him, it in no way relieves the anxiety, confusion and frustration that the disciples had begun to experience in the wake of his two recent predictions. 

Thereafter, in Chapter 20, Jesus makes his third prediction about his passion and death.  The disciples can no longer wonder about what the implications of these bold predictions are.  By this point no one, except Jesus, wants to return to Jerusalem, even for the Passover celebration.  But the disciples have all been challenged, after the first prediction, to deny themselves, take up their crosses and follow him.  What choice did they have?  What choice do we have?  Will the disciples return to Jerusalem with him?  Will they celebrate the final Passover, and then witness the horrific persecution and death that their master is to endure?  Will we be in their midst?.  Will we follow him every step of the way no matter how gut-wrenching and traumatic the experience is?  Will we stand with his mother, his beloved disciple and the other women at the foot of the cross?  If not, why not?  We know it is coming.  We know it is our path to eternal glory.  We only need to pray for the faith, the courage and the stamina to walk the walk and talk the talk.  It will not be easy.  However, by invocation, the Holy Spirit will see us through just as he did for the disciples in that upper room.  So let us pray fervently for the determination to keep moving forward no matter the anxiety, confusion and frustration that we are sure to encounter along the way.  The joy at the end of the journey will be eternal.          

Bill Berger has had a lifelong relationship with the Passionist Family.  Bill and his wife, Linda, are currently leaders of the Community of Passionist Partners (CPP’s) in Houston, Texas.

Scripture:

1 Kings 19:4-8
Ephesians 4:30-5:2
John 6:41-51

Reflection:

The Jews mumbled about Jesus because he said, ‘I am the bread of life that came down from heaven.’

To understand today’s gospel, part of the Bread of Life discourse, we must hear its echoes in two key themes. 

First, the allusion to the grumbling Israelites in their 40-year wilderness trek, sustained by manna from heaven, is parallel to the Jews grumbling near Capernaum after they have seen Jesus feed the 5,000.

Second, Jesus, the bread of life that came down from heaven, alludes to the evangelist John’s majestic prologue to his gospel: “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” (Jn 1:14). 

By way of background to today’s gospel, Jesus earlier had fed the 5,000 who were in a deserted area after he had taught them (Jn 1:1-15).  But the Jews had failed to see the significance of the miracle.  Jesus had offered to meet their deepest needs, but they were more concerned about their bellies.  Thanks to Moses, “Our fathers ate manna in the wilderness,” they reminded Jesus.  Can you do as much as Moses?

This exchange between Jesus and the crowd recalls how the Israelites in the wilderness grumbled for food until Moses fed them manna.  They were sustained by the manna until they reached the Promised Land.  Jesus corrected them.  It was not Moses, but God who gave them bread from heaven.

“I am the bread of life,” Jesus declared to the crowd.  “Your ancestors ate the manna in the desert, but they died.  I am the living bread that came down from heaven so that one may eat and not die” (Jn 6:48-50).

Those gospel themes—grumbling in the wilderness and Jesus as the bread of life that came down from heaven—should resonate in our own lives.

We too are challenged throughout our lives to walk the long walk in the wilderness.  Will we grumble and complain?  Or will we place our radical trust in God who will sustain us in difficult times?

Can we see that God in Jesus feeds us every day, even and especially in our wilderness moments?  The manna that God gives us is the Body of Christ in the Eucharist.  This food will nourish us as we journey through our lives until we arrive at our true home, the Promised Land, the kingdom of God.

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

Scripture:

2 Corinthians 9:6-10
John 12:24-26

Reflection:

Whenever I’m going through a difficult time, I have trouble maintaining focus in my contemplative prayer practice. I recently became increasingly frustrated – and guilty – over my failures to still my thinking brain. I tried mightily to sit in silence. But my mind persistently wandered away as I worked to make sense of things, figure out issues in my life, and find answers. I let God in, but usually it was to beg for help, guidance, and strength. My inability to focus was like the disciples in the Garden, and I imagined Jesus asking if I couldn’t just stay with him for a while and pray.

Then I realized the problem was my insistence on remaining in charge. I wanted to make sense of it myself, and then make my own decision on what to do. Yes, I begged God for help, but I wasn’t really listening to that still voice inside because my own voice was too loud. I was clinging to the life I knew, the solutions I knew, and the strategies that worked for me in the past. Like the grain of wheat that needed to die, I was encased in the hard seed shell of my own workings under the guise of prayer.

Somehow, and only eventually, the Spirit penetrated my shell anyway and challenged me. Instead of begging God to guide me, could I admit that God already was? Instead of proclaiming my trust in God, could I sit quietly in true trust without having to say anything myself? Could I deeply let myself be loved for a few minutes, knowing that God is working in me in ways I don’t even understand? Could I let go of control, what I “knew”, the things of life that I loved, and my need to figure it out, and let God be God in me? Could I die to myself and get out of God’s way?

My prayer since then has been different. My mantra is trust. In fact, when my mind wanders and thoughts pop up, I repeat “trust” over and over, giving my mind something to focus on while I sink below it into God’s presence. It’s hard to explain in logical ways.  Yet I know the experience of letting God draw me downward, into a peaceful embrace that needs no words, thoughts, or decisions. It feels like “doing nothing”, but God is never doing nothing. In mysterious ways, I am being changed. When I end my prayer time and return to life, I don’t have immediate clarity but I am more content with that. I trust that God is working, and in God’s time, I will see the path to take.

So every day I sit and practice contemplative prayer again. As Thomas Keating wrote, the only way I can “fail” is to not show up. If I show up, God works. My tight little seed shell is cracking open. I am letting go, allowing myself to “lose” aspects of life that I love. In the process, new life is emerging and I am growing in good ways.

To what are you clinging that keeps you from fully trusting God? Can you join me in devoting more time to sitting in God’s presence in a prayerful stance of surrender? Can you refuse to cling to yourself and your present life, to “let go and let God”? Let’s try it 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:

Nahum 2:1, 3:3:1-3, 6-7
Matthew 16:24-28

Reflection:

Teresa Benedicta of the Cross (Edith Stein),
a Very Good Professor.

Every August 9th I have a conversation with Sr. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, OCD, (Edith Stein). We never run out of things to talk about. I look in the book with today’s mass prayers and I see under her name the words, “Virgin and Martyr”. So, I’ll ask her, “Edith (less formal) how do you like your titles, virgin and martyr?”

Know that she is a great conversationalist. Intelligent! She earned a doctorate, (diploma finally awarded when women were permitted to receive them). Her mentor was Edmund Husserl, founder of the school of Phenomenology. Husserl chose her over Martin Heidegger to be his assistant. Heidegger would become a great philosopher and influenced the Catholic theologian, Karl Rahner.  How interesting, Edith, that your dissertation is on ‘Empathy’. In the rarified air of your philosophical studies, it is us, men and women, that interest you.

Edith is an open, grounded woman; she listens and reads not just books, also people. A married couple who were friends suffered the death of a loved one. Edith witnessed how their faith affected their sorrow, giving them hope and trust. This couple opened the door for you, Edith, and you followed that grace to become a Catholic.

I am going to venture that gratitude is an expression of your Virginity; gratitude to be one of the People of the Covenant, the Chosen People. And gratitude for God’s love calls you to follow Christ in a life of charity and hope. You, of course with gratitude you remember meeting your name sake, Teresa of Avila, OCD, whose writings you devoured and then were consumed by her mystical love. Did you feel an invitation to walk with her? Great thinker that you are, Edith, Teresa must have turned a key to open your heart to the depth of the sea that is full of the feelings of God’s love for you?

“What do you think, Edith, of being among the likes of Agatha, Barbara or Cecilia?” You may not have through about that? Like today’s Gospel, we follow Jesus each day and take up the cross in our daily world. The daily cross was yours in the gender discrimination of your profession, the anti-Semitism that followed you, the pain of your mother when you became Christian, and the infamous Nazi genocide. You told a visitor after you were arrested, “I never knew people could be like this…and I honestly had no idea of how my brothers and sisters were being made to suffer”. You said your security is not to stand firm under your own power, “rather it is the sweet and blissful security of the child that is lifted up and carried by a strong arm.” “What did not lie in my plans, lay in God’s plans.”

Your beautiful intellect leads to your final book, “The Science of the Cross”. The

meaningless horror of the concentration camp led to your martyrdom. In the end we see a heart that embraced God, along with those who suffered with you on your final journey. My conversation ends in reverent silence. Theresa Benedicta of the Cross, OCD, Virgin and Martyr. A woman of gratitude, one of the Chosen People, you

abandoned yourself to the mystery of God’s plan. With love as much as intellect gently lead and accompany us more deeply into the mystery of the Crosses we carry daily.

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

Scripture:

Jeremiah 31:31-34
Matthew 16:13-23

Reflection:

Listening and reflecting again today on Matthew’s gospel, we ponder how Peter boldly and filled with faith proclaims Jesus as Messiah, and after Jesus affirms Peters’ response, Jesus generously gives Peter more inside information which Peter just finds too difficult to hear. We’ve probably heard this gospel numerous times. 

It amazes me to see how fast Peter can go from such a proclamation, “You are the Messiah” to a Peter who takes Jesus aside and begins to rebuke him. Why? Part of it is that Peter feels threatened. This revelation which Jesus speaks to Peter simply doesn’t fit into Peter’s plans. And Peter has just proclaimed this man to be the Messiah! What is it like when the messiah doesn’t fit into your plans? What is it like for you when you feel like you are being led down a path which you certainly don’t want to go?

I suspect that many of us who read these daily reflections have had similar experiences in our faith journey. We have had those experiences where we come to know Jesus in a profound and intimate way. Soon after this experience, however, there is a request or even a challenge which is put before us. Somewhere in our mind we question, “Certainly Jesus you didn’t mean for this to happen? Or you couldn’t possibly be asking me….?” 

Ultimately, I call this purification. It’s the stripping away of the expectations of who we want Jesus to be so we may be attentive to whom Jesus actually is. It frequently can be a painful reality. But in all of scripture, God never conforms to our personal desires. The divine always emphatically insists, “I am God”, sometimes with a silent implication back to the human who is wrestling with the relationship, “and you are who?” A perfect example of this is the conclusion of the Job story, and we see it again here with Peter. It is difficult to go through this purification. The gift in all of this is that as we do, we understand the divine much better! 

Paradoxically, today’s gospel reflection needs to end with the beginning of today’s gospel. It is only after going through this process of purification that we can most authentically answer Jesus’ question, “Who do you say that I am?” 

On this journey of faith, Jesus you are the one who keeps purifying us, challenging us to re-examine the questions of who you are to us. In doing so we continue to discover our selves and our lives anew in your divine light.

 Fr. David Colhour, C.P., is the Provincial Superior of Holy Cross Province. He resides in Chicago, Illinois.

Scripture:

Jeremiah 31:1-7
Matthew 15:21-28

Reflection:

Then Jesus said to her in reply, ‘O woman, great is your faith!
Let it be done for you as you wish.’ And her daughter was healed from that hour.  -Matthew 15:28

As a child growing up, my mother always threatened to send me and my brothers to Montefiore, a Reform School where “Bad Boys” were sent to make them “good boys”. Although we had never seen “Montefiore”, we did pass “The Chicago Parental Home” a home for boys that failed at Montefiore. There we would see boys working out in the fields, hoeing and working in their gardens. That sight along with the threat of Montefiore was enough to keep me and I believe a lot of boys doing what they were told to do.

Fifteen years later, I found myself entering “Montefiore” as a novice High School English teacher. When given the choice by the Board of Education of three different positions, I chose “Montefiore” because it paid the most–it was a 48-week school rather than the regular 38 weeks. I remember driving up to the school, wondering where the bars were. The school looked just like any other public school built in the 60’s. (This was the third location of Montefiore that originally opened in 1929 to help deal with the influx of Catholic and Jewish immigrants who had been pouring into Chicago seeking jobs and an opportunity to live a normal life).

I won’t bore you with all the details of my healing, but suffice it to say, it began with that original encounter and continues to this day. I learned that first day, that Montefiore not only looked like any public school, but except for special population, boys from 10 to 16 years of age and the shops which appealed to many of that population, it acted like any other public school in the ‘70’s. There, the three “R’s” were taught along with all the other expected subjects.

God, forgive my mother and all the other mothers and teachers who foisted their fear of being different onto their boys. I believe they meant well. Forgive me, for letting fear of the other, or feelings of superiority/inferiority isolate me and keep me from being spontaneous. Help me have faith like the woman in today’s Gospel selection, faith that You, God, don’t make junk, You only make beautiful, gifts of life that show up in all different forms, shapes and colors. Help me build community today and create safe places where all Your creation can come together in peace, joy and love.

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

Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord

Scripture:

Daniel 7:9-10, 13-14
Mark 9:2-10

Reflection:

The two great prophets, Moses and Elijah just couldn’t get a break. Both were called by the Almighty to engage in life, to face life’s tragedies and evils head on. Both wanted with all their might to do the opposite.

Moses, God’s mouthpiece to the Hebrew people, got rejected by his own people in a dramatic way. Remember that Golden Calf? Since he didn’t receive the glowing response he expected, he wanted to forget his mission, to blend back into the faceless masses and live out his life with as little stress as possible. But no, God had other ideas. He wanted Moses to ascend Mount Sinai a second time and keep faithful to his mission (Exodus 33: 18 on).

Elijah didn’t fare much better. For all his troubles trying to do God’s will, he became a wanted man by the authorities of his day. He schemed to get out of there. But in his attempt to runaway he is met by guess who? Yahweh. Yahweh sent him right back into the struggle (1 Kings 19: 11 on).

Both men experienced Yahweh on a mountain at pivotal moments of discouragement in carrying out their missions.

They both endorsed the teaching that the way to life is the cross. In the sections of Mark’s Gospel that immediately precede the description of the transfiguration, Jesus tries to get this essential point across to the thick-headed apostles. Jesus rebukes them for not “getting it.”

His clear message… often diluted by those of us who, like the apostles, want a Jesus who will comfort us, provide security, consistency, and the justification to blend into our consumer- addicted, pleasure-seeking, individualistic culture… is that there is no union with a Loving God without the cross.

At Transfiguration Peter, ever the concrete thinker, wanted heaven on earth. He wanted a set of three tents to hide out with his three heroes. But the Almighty crashes in with the words, “This is my beloved Son.  Listen to him.” It is a dismissal of Peter’s limited desire for security. If I listen to Jesus’ words about the cross, I lose security as our culture defines it. I surrender my entire will to a loving God who has been drawing me to himself from day one.

After the resurrection, in Peter’s letter which we read today, we are told, “You will do well to be attentive to it (the prophetic message of the cross that is altogether reliable), as to a lamp shining in a dark placed, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in our hearts.”

In the midst of our daily tasks we may grow weary, despondent, and feel that life is but a series of routines we must endure. In such a dead space, darkness can fill our souls. We may react the way Moses and Elijah reacted, wanting to escape to a self-soothing space, away from our personal crosses.

Jesus is calling us out of this dark place. He wants us to be faithful to our responsibilities, to cause Good Trouble (as the late John Lewis said), to stand up to evil, whether in the political world or the private worlds of family, neighbors, community, or parish. He wants us to protect our earth, to solve differences peacefully, to forgive, to share, to live simply, to welcome all.

In our private, quiet time with God today, perhaps we can examine our lives to determine if we are engaging in life the way God wants us to engage, even when that means accepting the severe pain and overwhelming fear that comes with the cross.

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

Scripture:

Jeremiah 28:1-17
Matthew 14:13-21

Reflection:

What is the mission of the Church? Back in my student days, I had a teacher who asked this question a couple of times a semester. After giving us some time to share our answers, he would catch us and confuse us even more by stating that the church doesn’t have a mission. And then he would clarify, “The mission has a church.” 

I’ve thought of this numerous times.  It is frequently neglected in all church circles from small faith communities, to parish councils, to diocesan presbyteral gatherings.  The mission has a church. Here in the US, we are more accustomed to strategies, planning and goal setting.  We do so in order to fulfill the mission, yet we neglect to realize that our mission isn’t always the mission of Christ or the mission of the Gospel.  When we start with the wrong point, we will never get the right answer.   The mission has a church. This is something to ponder this day. And it is very applicable when we listen to today’s Gospel.

Truthfully, it would be easier to write about the beauty of Jesus’ miracle as he feeds the five thousand in today’s Gospel.  Yet it is the disciples in this story that resonate within me this day.   This version has some precious insights to Jesus who sees the crowd, seeing their brokenness, seeing their sick, seeing their hunger, seeing their need and responding from what he sees.  What do the disciples see? Matthew says they see a deserted place. And they see their incompleteness.  In their human compassion they ask Jesus to dismiss the crowd so they can go eat.  But the crowd isn’t being held there against their will.  Any of them can leave as they choose.  Obviously, there is something deeper and more profound holding the crowd around Jesus.

As we grow in faith we realize that faith in Jesus, like all growth, moves through different stages.  Early on we find an attraction of who Jesus is. Jesus has a way of seducing us and inviting us in.  And as we get to know Jesus more and more, the authority, peace, presence, availability and the numerous other characteristics we find in Jesus become quite familiar to us.  We are no longer as captivated on what initially drew us to Jesus.  This doesn’t mean we have lost faith in Jesus, we have just moved to a new level of relationship with Jesus.  As we mature in our faith, Jesus begins to ask more of us.  Recall Jesus’ words to Peter at the end of John’s Gospel. “Peter do you love me?”  Jesus begins to ask more of us, just like he does in the Gospel today, “Give them some food yourselves.”  And it was hard for the disciples to see they had something to give.  They are to use their eyes, their hearts and their gifts.  But first they had to open their eyes and hearts.  That is the conversion we all face today.  Isn’t it more convenient for us to keep our eyes shut, accuse others, or resist to invest ourselves?  It is so much easier to sit back and allow someone else to do the work. 

I will ask again, what is the real mission of the Church?  It certainly isn’t about asking God to fulfill our wishes.   The underlying theme for today’s gospel is about being the hands and heart of Jesus.  St. Teresa of Avila’s famous prayer flows from this attitude.  “Christ has no body but yours, no hands, no feet on earth but yours…” 

Personally, I will be the first to say that the challenge doesn’t get easier.  Jesus will continue to invite us into greater sacrifices and deeper suffering.  And like Teresa, I echo her attitude, why would anyone say yes to this?  The answer is that it is not about any of us individually; it is about Christ.  It is the mission on which our church was founded.  And the greatest surprise is when we dig deep into ourselves and give of ourselves, we see Jesus’ glory in the simplicity of taking, blessing, breaking and giving.  Standing back in awe and amazement, we pray; Not only is your presence with us Lord, you are absolutely amazing! 

Fr. David Colhour, C.P. is the Provincial Superior of Holy Cross Province. He resides in Chicago, Illinois.