Daily Scripture

Readings:
Amos 8:4-6, 9-12
Matthew 9:9-13

Reflection:
Today we reflect not just on the call of Matthew to join Jesus, but on the call Jesus makes to each of us.  Matthew, a tax collector in his day, would have most certainly been viewed as a sinner among other Jews.  Collecting taxes on behalf of the oppressive Roman government, Matthew no doubt violated the Sabbath and interacted with pagans and other outcasts in his work.  Jesus knew all of this, yet, without hesitation, chose Matthew, simply saying, "Follow me."    

When the Pharisees saw this, they attacked Jesus, questioning, "Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?" But this is the very reason for Jesus’ presence on earth.  (And once again the Pharisees miss the point!)  Our hearts are known to Jesus-our sins, our failings, our shortcomings.  Still, he calls us: "Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do."  Don’t think that this very specific comparison is made without meaning.  As a doctor heals the sick, Jesus comes to heal us and all the wounds of our sins.

The lesson here is not just in Jesus’ mercy for sinners, but in His call to each of us, "I desire mercy."  Jesus’ call was one of acceptance of all those on the fringes, all those who had been excluded.  We must ask ourselves, then; who have we judged unworthy of our own forgiveness?  Who have we shut out of our own lives by passing judgment on others?  To be able to love as Jesus loved, this is what we must be prepared for in following Jesus.  May we all have Matthew’s courage to answer the call.

Readings:

Amos 3:1-8; 4:11-12
Matthew 8:23-27 (378)

Reflection
In today’s gospel, we find the disciples once again faced with a test of faith.  It is important to look at this passage in the context of Matthew’s larger account.  The Twelve have just witnessed Jesus cleanse a leper, heal a paralyzed servant and drive out demons from the possessed-miraculous feats no doubt.  Crowds were most certainly following them, begging for Jesus’ healing touch.  But when the disciples find themselves in jeopardy on the unexpected, stormy waters, they wake Christ in a panic, "We are perishing!"  Let us remember that these are men who left their lives, their jobs, even their families behind to follow Jesus!

Matthew gives us no indication that the disciples doubted or questioned Jesus in performing any of these other miracles in Galilee.  Yet in the midst of their own crisis, their immediate reaction is terror.   We certainly should not think it a coincidence that this violent storm came along when Jesus was sleeping. Perhaps the storm came to remind the disciples-and all of us-that even when Jesus does not seem present, there is no reason to fear abandonment: "O you of little faith?" 

At the core of today’s reading, then, is a most fundamental question posed to us as Christians; simply put, do you trust in God?  Storms most certainly come into each of our lives.  Let us remember that even though the reaction of the disciples was fearful, ultimately they put their faith in Christ, saying "Lord, save us!"  In our own moments of suffering and doubt, our initial reaction may be to "wake" Jesus-to cry out for His help.  And while this reading shows us that our Lord will be there to calm the storm, let us remember to take the opportunity to awaken in ourselves our own belief, our own trust and our own faith in Christ.    

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

Reflection:
Today’s short gospel begins as a demoniac, who could not speak, was brought to Jesus who drives out the demon. The crowds are amazed when the mute man spoke. But the Pharisees–looking on– accuse Jesus of being the prince of demons, using evil powers of demons, to cure the man.

Jesus then moves on, going around to all the towns and villages in the area, proclaiming the Gospel of the Kingdom.  As he cures every disease and illness, Jesus is moved with pity for the crowd. He sees so many needs; so many are troubled and abandoned. They are like a sheep without a shepherd.  Jesus calls His disciples to look, to see the abundant harvest, to REALLY see the needs of those people and asks them to pray that the ‘master of the harvest send more laborers for his harvest.’

As each of us enters this gospel today in prayer, we are invited to bring our life – as it is- to Jesus in this story – to be the one who is healed and now able to speak.

Have you ever experienced a time when you could not or would not give voice to your real thoughts or feelings to another?  If so, take a moment to recall your experience…  What were your feelings and why?  (e.g… awe, fear of judgment, afraid to speak your truth or uncertainty about what you really think or feel…)

Take some time.  Talk freely to Jesus about your experience. Then, be silent in his   presence. Sense His love and compassion for you as expressed in this gospel.

What grace do you seek?

Now, you are able to speak freely and honestly.  Where and to whom will you go to tell this story of Jesus… Now, as you really are…  "You are sent to be laborers for this harvest." 

Sister Marcella Fabing, CSJ, is on the staff at Christ the King Passionist Retreat Center, Citrus Heights, California. 

Readings: 

Hos 2:16, 17b-18, 21-22
Mt 9:18-26 (383)

 Reflection:

Two stories of incredible healing are interwoven in today’s Gospel.  In the first, we learn that an "official" prostrates himself before Jesus and pleads for help, saying "My daughter has just died.  But come, lay your hand on her, and she will live."  Already, the story is extraordinary in that a synagogue leader has come to ask for Jesus to heal his daughter. 

Needless to say, temple rulers were not exactly big fans of Jesus!  Not only does this man come to Jesus openly in front of a very large crowd-a risky move for a temple authority-but he displays unwavering faith in the power of Christ’s very touch.   And what does Jesus do?  Without pause or question, Matthew tells us, "Jesus rose and followed him."

As Jesus is en route to the official’s home, a sickly woman quietly comes up behind Jesus with the plan of merely touching his robe: "If only I can touch his cloak, I shall be cured."  Matthew tells us this is a woman who had been suffering for twelve long years with hemorrhages.  Yet, she believes that brushing up against the just the fringes of Christ’s clothing will do for her what no doctor ever could. 

In that instant, we learn that she was cured.  But it was not the physical contact with Jesus that brought her healing.  Christ tells her, "Courage daughter! Your faith has saved you."  After this brief but powerful encounter, Jesus makes his way to the official’s home where mourners have already begun grieving for the dead girl.  Taking the girl by the hand, Jesus brings the girl back to the living.

Why are these two stories told together?  Of course, the magnitude of Jesus’ power to heal is obvious.  Perhaps the more subtle similarities are just as important.  Both of these individuals are desperate.  For the official, he has lost his child.  For the suffering woman, she has most certainly been told that she will die of her incurable condition.  Yet even in the midst of such agony, both believe Jesus is the answer.

Moreover, both of these people may have well believed they were somehow not entitled to Jesus’ help.  (This was a synagogue official and an unclean woman, remember.)  In fact, the woman literally tries to "steal" Jesus’ healing without him knowing.  We learn that salvation through Jesus is available to all the faithful.  And when Jesus seems interrupted along the way to answering our prayers, perhaps we need to look to those moments for patience, purpose and inspiration.

Readings:

Zec 9:9-10
Rom 8:9, 11-13
Mt 11:25-30 (100)  

Reflection:

In today’s Gospel, our Lord speaks plainly and openly to us, his children.  Indeed entire books have been written about these few lines and the many revelations that they hold.  Jesus speaks of his relationship and knowledge of "Father" in a way that suggests their intimacy and their oneness, and therefore, our Lord’s own divinity.  And though this may seem like a complicated idea to understand, this knowledge of the path to God is, in fact, not reserved for educated scholars.  Jesus tells us, ". . . for though you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, you have revealed them to the childlike."   

But it is the concluding portion of this passage where so much attention has been focused: "Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest . . . [f]or my yoke is easy, and my burden light."  Can this possibly be true?   We can certainly imagine so many of our burdens that we would like to unload-our bills, our difficult jobs, our failing relationships.  And, in truth, our Lord does offer respite from these things.  No, Christ may not be writing out our rent checks, but what about the strength we find in the face of suffering?  What about the friend who comes through for us when we thought all hope had been lost?  Our Lord’s divine help is always available to us. 

What may be the more radical concept to accept is that devotion to Christ should not itself be viewed as an encumbrance.  The literal meaning of a "yoke" is a device meant to harness two animals together, for example, in tilling a field.  When we put our faith in Christ, we are joining ourselves to Him.  In this way, Christ literally shoulders our burdens.  Our Lord promises us rest from the exhaustion of a life lived apart from Him.  How much more daunting is the yoke of sin?  Or perhaps to put it in more contemporary context-how much heavier is the burden of devotion to the almighty dollar?  Devotion to competition with our piers?  Or devotion to our own self-pride?

While the message is of great importance, the manner of its delivery is equally important.  Jesus makes this a call-a request or an invitation to follow him and lay down our troubles.  Simply put, we have a choice.  We can take the rocky road of total self-reliance, or we can follow Jesus.  And it’s not a choice that we may make one time.  We may continually find ourselves taking up the weight of self-indulgence (or whatever our personal burden may be) over our Lord’s offer of a much lighter yoke.  Remember that suffering and death were never a part of God’s plan for us.  With free will comes the ability to choose a path.  Let us choose the path of true freedom-devotion to Christ.

Scripture: 

Isaiah 10:5-7, 13b-16
Matt 11:25-27

Reflection

Today the Catholic calendar observes the feast of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel, patroness of the Carmelite religious order.

Mt. Carmel, a coastal mountain in northern Israel, is one of the most revered holy sites of the Bible.  There the great prophet Elijah contested with the priests of pagan gods to whom Israel had given its allegiance. (1 Kings 18 – 19).  Elijah’s great victory demonstrated that Yahweh alone was God and called Israel to repentance and renewed faith. 

His legendary deed inspired the foundation of the Carmelite Order, on Mt. Carmel itself, in the 12^th Century.  Several great Carmelite saints are familiar to us today:  St. Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, St. Therese of Lisieux.  As pillars of contemporary spirituality, each is a flesh-and-blood hero of faith.  Their lives echo the dynamism of commitment to God seen in Elijah’s mountaintop showdown.

Today’s Scripture readings reverberate with the power of faith. In Isaiah 26: 8 we read, "Your name and your title, O Lord, are the desire of our souls."  Faith touches the deepest, inmost recesses of the human spirit and psyche.  Faith claims and shapes us as nothing else can.  In Matthew’s Gospel (Mt.11:28) Jesus tells us, "My yoke is easy and my burden light."  The choice for faith, even when challenging, brings joy and vitality to our lives.

Today’s Feast leads us back to the life of Mary, Mother of Jesus.  May we live by her personal profession of faith, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done to me as you will." (Luke 1:38)  Let us follow her suggestion made at Cana‘s wedding feast, "Do whatever He tells you." (John 2:5)    May this day see our faith grow to embrace the challenges we face.

Fr. Jim Thoman, CP, is the director of St. Paul of the Cross Passionist Retreat Center, Detroit, Michigan

 

 

 

Readings:

Amos 9:11-15
Matthew 9:154-17

Reflection:

According to Catholic Bible scholars, prophetic books typically have three over-arching themes. They are God’s passionate purpose, God’s severe punishment and God’s enduring promise. God’s prophetic message always ends in hope. And the book of the prophet Amos is a perfect reflection of this.

Most of the Amos’ prophecy tends to chide Israel for its sin of self-centered greed and prideful show while proclaiming God’s passion for "the least, the lost and the last." However, as he nears the end of his prophecy, Amos focuses on God’s everlasting and enduring promise to Israel. It is this passage filled with expectant hope that the Church shares with us in today’s liturgy.

This poetic passage tells us much about what Jesus will later say about the Kingdom of God. Amos states the House of David will be rebuilt; adversaries will be converted; wine will flow down mountainsides and humans will hunger no more. In essence, everything will be provided to everyone in abundance!

And so when the disciples of John approach Jesus with their questions about fasting, Jesus, who embodies the Kingdom and performs the works of the Kingdom, responds using the image of a marriage feast. Who would think of crying at a wedding reception while everyone (including the groom) is still celebrating? Jesus the bridegroom is among them and he is celebrating something wonderful and new. It is the inauguration of the Kingdom where everyone, no matter how least or lost or last will taste of God’s loving abundance. However Jesus also makes clear that where he is not, where his presence is barred or his work distorted; nothing new can come.

How am I an instrument of making God’s loving abundance real today? Where in my life, my relationships, my work do I bar Jesus’ presence so that nothing new may come?

Does my faith life reflect God’s enduring promise and expectant hope?