Daily Scripture

Scripture:

Acts 4:32-25
1 John 5:1-6
John 20:19-31

Reflection:

The power of the death and resurrection continues to unfold for us in this Sunday’s readings. As Ps 118 repeats again and again, "His mercy endures forever." What is more amazing than that "the stone which the builder rejected has become cornerstone." The Resurrection is the great reversal.

Defeat has become victory, not only for Jesus, but also for us. We need to remind ourselves day after day that "the victory that conquers the world is our faith". What is the core of our faith? It is that "Jesus is the Son of God".

In the Acts of the Apostles we see the amazing effects of this faith. "The community of believers was of one heart and mind, and no one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they had everything in common." This is the garden of Eden time for the church. It couldn’t last. Soon enough the widows of the Greek speaking converts would complain about the unequal distribution of the food. Maybe what we have to hold on to today is the possibility of such an unselfish community.

Finally in John’s gospel we have the account of the first two Sundays after the death of Jesus, Easter and the following first day of the week. Jesus appears to the disciples as he had earlier promised: "Where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them" (Mt 18:20). Whenever Jesus comes he imparts his Spirit, "he breathed on them". Lord, may I not be like Thomas who missed this experience of meeting you. May I always come to the community gathering on the first day of the week. Thomas had a second chance. "His mercy endures forever."

 

Fr. Michael Hoolahan, C.P. is on the staff of Mater Dolorosa Passionist Retreat Center, Sierra Madre, California.       

Scripture:

Acts 4:13-21
Mark 16:9-15

Reflection:

In today’s reading from Acts, the religious leaders of the synagogue did not trust that God would reveal things about Godself to ordinary, uneducated people rather than working through the structures and hierarchy set in place for such purposes.  They did not believe these folks could have something valid to teach them about God, or that they could be instruments of God’s work. 

Unfortunately, these scenarios seem to run threadlike through the ages of our Church.  Too frequently, revelation is not trusted unless it comes through "proper" channels and from the top.  Whether originating in science, theology, or the sensus fidelium, the more unexpected and incisive something is, the greater the difficulty believing and accepting it.  Rather than shake up current beliefs, we rely on the past and revert to it for comfort and security.

Before being too quick to condemn these leaders, though, we must remember the Gospel reading, in which the disciples themselves didn’t trust a woman who said she’d experienced the Lord nor believe she could bring a message from God to them.  Further, they refused to believe two people from outside their ranks who encountered Christ.  They resisted any other channel than personal experience and direct revelation (which thankfully was eventually provided to them). 

It is reassuring to note that Jesus did not condemn the disciples for their hardness of heart and lack of faith.  In fact, after pointing it out, he sent them forth again to spread the gospel.  Their admonishment most likely served them well when they found themselves on the other side of the coin.  When the leaders of the synagogue refused to believe them, perhaps they felt a sense of compassion.  Having known the experience personally, having wrongly dismissed the revelations of others, they faced the opposition with greater calm and with the simple determination to press on without being deterred.

In truth, all of us have areas where our hearts have become hardened.  How often have I failed to believe because I don’t judge the source to be "worthy"?  How often have I dismissed those with less formal knowledge or experience as having little to teach me?  How many times have I engaged in a "discussion" about faith that is really an exercise in defending my own position?  How frequently have I missed a word from God because it was coming from an unexpected person or in a situation I didn’t anticipate?  Yet all things and all people can be used by God to bring new life if we are open to the surprising ways that God reveals Godself.

This, then, becomes my prayer through this Easter season:

May we open ourselves to God’s Spirit, who tries so hard to roll away the stones keeping us imprisoned and deaf to the life God offers.  

May we nurture the faith and honor the experience of those in our lives, discovering and learning from the gifts they hold. 

May we let go of our expectations and images of how God works, so that God can transform us in ever-new ways.  

May we open the murky tombs of our souls to the unexpected, so God can delight us with insights, grace, and yes, resurrection.    

And finally, like the disciples, in spite of our unbelief and hardness of heart, may we be worthy messengers, commissioned to go out and spread the gospel to the world.

 

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:

Acts 4:23-31
John 3:1-8

Reflection:

As I write this reflection Easter has just passed, and today’s reading brings me back to the conversation my family had over Easter brunch.

 

For decades, members of my family have gathered for Christmas and Easter, as well as baptisms, first communions, marriages, and funerals. Like most families, we have laughed and cried together, kidded enthusiastically, debated passionately, and on those rare occasions in the past, gone home mad because we just couldn’t agree about politics.

But never do I remember us talking about God. Until this Easter. In response to a particularly evocative homily, we started to talk about our beliefs, doubts, questions, and experience of a Supreme Being, prayer, and the soul.  It became a very intimate sharing. We had the great good fortune to speak our hearts in an atmosphere of trust. Neither the struggling agnostics nor the believers among us were in danger of verbal harm; judgments were tempered out of love.

It was, for me, an experience of the Holy Spirit in our midst, enlivening and drawing us closer.

When I was a kid, like most children I had a pretty solid, albeit immature, picture of God and Jesus. The Holy Spirit was harder to understand. A bird? Who and what was the Holy Spirit all about? I knew that we believed in a Trinity but one of those "Persons" was a greater mystery than the others.

I didn’t really understand then that the Holy Spirit is the life-breath of the Church, and animates our spiritual family.  In today’s first reading we see the early Christians moved to speak their truth with boldness, the room itself shaking in a cosmic "yes" to their desire. And what we know from Jesus, and later, St. Paul, is that we are all invited into this new life, this new family, born of water and Spirit. We are never too old or too broken because: "What is born of flesh is flesh and what is born of spirit is spirit."

In our own intimate way on Easter Sunday, my family was pushing beyond our familial connection and reaching out to one another in spirit. We were more than children, parents, sisters, nieces, nephews or aunts; we were fellow spirits, journeying to find wholeness, seeking God, absorbed in Mystery. I saw each person in a new light. That was a moment of grace, I believe, sharing the way we did. It was the gift of the Resurrection, the breath of the Holy Spirit, urging new life on a sunny Sunday afternoon.

 

Nancy Nickel is director of communications at the Passionist Development Office in Chicago, Illinois.

Scripture:

Acts 3:11-26
Luke 24:35-48

Reflection:

Some years ago I heard a homily on Easter Sunday that began with a line that stays with me still. The priest said, "None of us has trouble believing in the Crucifixion; we know that humans do terrible things. But we have such a hard time believing in the Resurrection, forgetting, perhaps, the astonishing things that God can do."

The Gospel begins with a scene that feels very familiar to me and perhaps to everyone who has suffered the loss of a loved one – sitting together among family or friends, collecting like precious treasure the shared moments of life which feel so scattered in the harsh reality of death.  Bound by their experience and love for Jesus, how comforting it must have felt for the disciples to recall every detail of His fleeting life, and how pressing the need to preserve the memory of the journey they traveled together so it would not be lost forever.

The disciples’ hearts must have almost stopped when, lost in a reverie of the past, Jesus literally stands before them, wishing them "peace," allowing them to touch his flesh, asking them for nourishment for his body!  This is neither a distant God nor a dead man walking. This is a God of life, love and incredible intimacy. This is Jesus among us, compelling us not to look backward or toward the sky for God, but to look to the One who is in our midst, to the Jesus right before our eyes who is wounded, hungry and battered but who can also rise victorious to a new life.

Easter Sunday, of course, has passed, but Resurrection remains, and today’s readings for me are a reminder that, whether we can believe it or not, God’s astonishing work continues and we are today’s witnesses to the transforming power of His love.

 

Nancy Nickel the director of communications at the Passionist Development Office and she lives in Chicago. 

Scripture:

Acts 4:1-12
John 21:1-14

Reflection:

Pasta and Wine, that was the menu that advertised the Sunday-evening dinners of Ronda Giangreco, a wife, a journalist and a chef from Northern California. After being diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis (MS), Ronda decided to take on an old hobby of hers, her love for cooking and gathering people, in order to deal with this threatening disease. An e-mail blast went out to her closest friends. Little by little the guest list grew from 8 to 160 to her weekly evening dinners.  As treatment progressed and complications came about, her commitment to the Sunday Dinners was tested. One Sunday, after a bitter and unexpected visit to the ER, and with only four hours left, she was still able to pull it off. Dinner was served and her guests were taken care of. She was determined to cope with MS one week at a time. During her 52-week commitment of evening dinners, the table became more than just a meal for Ronda and for many of her guests. The simple act of serving a meal became a healing-balm not only as Ronda tried to adjust to living with MS but also for her guests who were dealing with losing homes due to the financial downturn, divorce, or other unfortunate situations.

In a very ordinary way Jesus also comes to his friends who have gone back home after the trauma of the Cross. As they did what they knew best, fishing, Jesus advises them and feeds them. The disciples would not dare ask him who he was for they knew it was he, Jesus, who had invited them to the table many times before.  As described by John the Evangelist, in such a plain and yet elegant setting, Jesus serves loaves and fishes on the shore of Sea of Tiberias (Sea of Galilee) as another Eucharistic Meal. In this encounter, as it has been before, the disciples are invited to the table as they are, with their fears, doubts, hopes and labor. Here, they are met by a compassionate meal presented to them by their Rabbi. In this humble and familiar way Jesus turns the ordinary of their life situation into a life’s mission. No longer will they be catchers of fish, now they will catch people by doing what Jesus did, by announcing the Good News of the Coming of God’s Reign and by inviting others to the Table where their life will be transformed.

Since 400,000 Americans suffer the devastating effects of MS, Ronda Giangreco, just like the Disciples, has seen the ordinary of her life be transformed into a life’s mission.  Ronda decided to share her experience of coping with MS in a book now titled "The Gathering Table: Defying Multiple Sclerosis With a Year of Pasta, Wine & Friends" and through her website (thegatheringtable.net). Her story is compelling and inspiring. She is hoping to travel around the Country to encourage those suffering with MS to find the healing power of "Coming to the Table".

As we continue to live in the splendor of Easter, we dare ask ourselves: How are we transformed by the table(s) that we share?  How do we invite others to the table? Which table(s) have we overlooked or ignored in our ministry or in everyday life?  Has the table become just a superfluous routine?

 

Hugo R. Esparza-Pérez, C.P. is member of Holy Cross Province currently working in Mexico.

Scripture:

Acts 3:1-10
Luke 24:13-35

Reflection:

Who were the two travelers on the road to Emmaus – Cleopas and that other unidentified person?  Were they friends, or brothers, or husband and wife?  We don’t know.  I like to think the reason one of them remains unnamed is to allow us to insert our own name into the story.  It was Cleopas and Manuel, or Cleopas and you on the road to Emmaus.  And why not?  They were just like us.  They had the same concerns we do – in the midst of everyday life, keeping body and soul together, keeping out of trouble, trying but failing to stay strong in the face of shattered hopes and broken dreams.

Bible scholars tell us that this episode, this theological masterpiece, with its liturgical language – he took; he broke; he gave – is a description of the Eucharist.  It is in the Liturgy of the Word that the hearts of the two travelers were set on fire with understanding of Jesus; that in the breaking of the bread, they saw Jesus; that having been fed on the Word and the Bread they were sent on mission to proclaim the Good News of the Lord’s resurrection.

And yet, perhaps the Good News embraces another, more commonplace, truth.  The truth is that, like the two travelers, we often walk in the wrong direction.  We walk away from Jerusalem, away from Calvary.  We walk in the direction of Emmaus, wherever that mysterious city may be, seven miles distant and straight into darkness.  We are deliberately going the wrong way.  It’s a bad habit we inherited from our first parents who, in their sin of disobedience, went the wrong way, into the hiding place of darkness. 

Perhaps the Good News, the central truth of all Scripture, beginning with Moses and the prophets, as Jesus taught the two travelers, is that God always takes the initiative in seeking us out – even when we insist on walking in the wrong direction.  He walks with us, yet never forcing himself on us.  He simply waits patiently for Manuel or you to say the words: "It’s getting dark.  Stay with us."

 

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

Scripture:

Acts 2:36-41
John 20:11-18

Reflection:

My father is very ill as I write this reflection. He was in the hospital for a month, was out for three days, and back in again for over a week. This may well be a cycle that finally wears his body down until he goes home to God. I am grieving that soon my dad will no longer be physically present on this earth. I will not see the twinkle in his eye, nor partake of his marvelous "Grandpa malts" (the merits of which he proclaimed by saying "They may not be in first place, but they’re way ahead of whatever is in second!") When I visit Mom, the house will be achingly lonely, and she will struggle to let go of her husband of 63 years.

Many people will say, "You’re lucky he lived such a long life. You should be happy he is no longer suffering. He’s in a better place. Just think of all the memories and stories you can treasure. Now you have an angel in heaven to watch over you. " And on it will go, as well-meaning folks offer platitudes they believe are comforting. They aren’t.  Yes, I am glad he lived 84 years, but I wanted him to live 94 years – it’s always too soon when it’s someone you love.  Yes, I’m glad he’s no longer suffering and I am grateful he is with God, but I am sad that he is not with me or my siblings or my Mom. Gratitude and even faith do not erase the grief, nor should they (although they do allow us to keep it in perspective, to maintain hope while we heal).

We could learn lessons from the Gospel today. Notice that when the angels saw Mary Magdalene, they did not say "Stop crying. You should be glad that Jesus is going to the Father." Instead, they asked her to tell them of her grief: "Why are you weeping?"  Jesus did the same. He didn’t admonish her for her emotion or talk her out of what she was feeling. In fact, he didn’t even reveal his own identity until he first asked her to tell him about her tears and took the time to listen.  When I am grieving, I would rather have one person who asks good questions and deeply listens to what I need to say, than have 100 people tell me how positive and grateful and upbeat I "should" feel. Non-judgmental listening is the greatest gift we can give.

As Mary told the angels and Jesus of her grief, her eyes were so filled with tears she did not recognize Jesus. That, too, happens with me. Sometimes all I can see is my sadness and loss. I cannot see Jesus standing right in front of me. In the gospel, Jesus was able to literally speak to Mary and lift the veil. Jesus is no longer physically here to speak to me in a human voice, except through you. Can you listen to me, hear my cries, and be the embodiment of Christ so I don’t lose sight of God? Can you hold me in prayer when I am too bereaved and tired to pray myself?

Finally, Jesus tells Mary not to hold onto him. When my dad dies, I have to learn to let go of a person I once thought I could not live without, and learn to live without him. Like all the people I love, my dad is a transient and precious gift that I only have for a little while. It is time to let go, to free him to go to God. Yet like Jesus, the letting go is not complete. Mary and the other disciples built the early Church by keeping the memory, stories, and lessons of Jesus alive, even as they grieved his physical absence. Because of the paschal mystery, I know and believe that all of us – the living and the dead – are deeply connected in ways we do not understand.  Though the physical bond is broken, our spirits are entwined forever.

I will not forget, nor "put this behind me and get on with life." Rather, I will remember and carry Dad in my heart for as long as I live. I am a different person because he loved me, however imperfect that love may have been. I keep the lessons, the spirit, the stories, and the love, and rather than leaving them behind, I take them with me into a future enriched by Dad’s memory. 

May God grant Dad peace as he prepares to leave this world behind and, hand in hand with Jesus, journey into paradise.

 

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:

Acts 2:14, 22-33
Matthew 28:8-15

Reflection:

Fifty Days of Conversation with the Word

In the past four days we have drawn so close to Our Lord and Mary. We felt their pain and perhaps wept. We searched the motives, looked into the hearts of the apostles and the women of Galilee. After the intense days of the Passion, a quiet Saturday, a small number gather for a Vigil. In the darkness the Redeemer, the Risen One symbolized by the lighted Easter Candle, enables us to proclaim, "O happy fault and sin of Adam". In that hour of darkness we see the Scriptures of the Old Testament in the light of the New. The vigilers witness to Jesus, the First Born from among the dead. That quiet, joyful celebration that welcomes new believers to the font, sends the first joyous ‘alleluias’ that build to louder celebrations on Sunday as our belief that the Lord has Risen is affirmed by renewing the vows of Baptisms.

All of that happened in the past four days! Now it is Monday and we are celebrating the fifty days of Easter. What is left for us to do? Have we exhausted all of our feelings?

It is the Scriptures that fuel our celebration. Set before us these days is the Risen one and the community that grows around Him. Blended with the practical life situations and people of Acts we hear the mystic John: the Good Shepherd, The Vine, Jesus Bread of Life and reflections of Jesus at the Last Supper.

Although we have our daily work, schedules to fulfill, families to love and tend to, for Our Risen Lord these are no more obstacles to his presence being with us than were the barred doors of the upper room when he wanted to be with his disciples. Indeed our ears may be more anxious to hear the words of Jesus than the disciples who would soon doze and then scatter. If we are grieving like the disciples walking to Emmaus or if we are as agitated as Peter who gathers his companions to go fishing in the darkness, Jesus comes in His Word to enkindle fire in our hearts, to be with us and our friends in confusing times.

It is interesting to see the reactions of the people who meet the Risen Lord and those who receive the message that we hear Peter proclaim today. Their reactions are not hysterical or shocked; at times they are profound, deliberate. Matthew tells us Mary Magdalene and the other Mary are afraid but joyful, and even take hold of Jesus feet to do him homage.

In our Easter days we are given the gift of God’s Word. Jesus is present to us in that Word. May we then continue the intimacy we have experienced during the days of the Passion and continue to share our hearts with the Risen One who approaches His friends eagerly. Paul will share his missionary desires with Jesus. Peter must have asked for help in his confusion of gathering Jew and Gentile at one table. We will hear the words of Stephen, words probably like those of many others who will follow his example, so great is their love for Jesus. Let us welcome the Risen Jesus in his Word these fifty days. As the Word he will talk with us, invite our sharing, and be present with us.  

 

Fr. William Murphy, CP is pastor of St. Joseph’s Monastery parish in Baltimore, Maryland.