Daily Scripture

Scripture:
Genesis 2:18-25
Mark 7:24-30

Reflection:
At first glance, today’s readings seem an odd coupling.  What does God’s creation of humans and their subsequent joining as one flesh have to do with the Syro-Phoenician woman begging for her daughter’s healing?   Allow me to offer my thoughts. 

Love is a creative and generative force.  Choosing to unleash it, God’s loving power flowed out into human form and created a "we" that did not previously exist.  Another entity (God plus humanity) came into being.  This new entity, this new "we", was larger and more significant than either "me" by itself.  Yet God’s love was so deep and so complete that it desired more.   God chose to make the "we" visible by becoming incarnate, truly becoming "bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh".  As one of us, God was willing to undergo anything for our sake, including the worst type of death imaginable in that day.  God demonstrated in clearest terms how love acts when it is enfleshed.

Humans are created in the image of God and are called to follow, to be visible images of the creative and generative force of God’s love.  This force draws us to each other, and often prompts the deepest commitment possible this side of death.  When humans commit themselves to each other in love, whether in pairs or in community, they create a "we" that is greater and different than the "me’s" that came together.  There is an entity there that did not exist before, and that would cease to exist were the love of either side to be withdrawn.  This incarnation of "we", this "bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh", never lets us rest and always calls us on to new depths.  It challenges, stretches, and grows us in ways we cannot even imagine when we walk away from the ceremony.

In my experience of marriage, our love longed to be enfleshed in an even more visible way, to create yet another "we".  Thus came the incarnation of our sons.  When I look at the three wonderful young men who are literally bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh – – those I bore in my womb, nursed, taught, and raised – – I understand the Syro-Phoenician woman confronting Jesus, even arguing with him, risking everything for the sake of her sick child. 

These sacrifices are what we have come to expect in healthy relationships – the committed spouse or the loving parent being willing to do anything, even to die, for their beloved.  That makes sense, it connects the readings, and it feels comfortable because it challenges us to do only what we believe we are called to do.  Any time the Gospel feels comfortable, though, we have to look farther.  The Gospel and the law of God are always more demanding than that.   

Jesus presents our comfortable position at first.  He tries to limit his responsibility.  He says he was sent only to "his" kind, and implied that God’s "we" stops there.  But the Syro-Phoenician woman jolts him out of that idea.  Through her, he learns anew that God’s salvation and love reach to all people, not just the ones with whom we choose to be associated or those who are like us.   Every human being is chosen.  Every human being is precious.  And every human being is connected to every other human being through the "we" that God created in the beginning. 

I may be willing to die for my son.  What am I prepared to sacrifice for my neighbor?  How willing am I to risk my own financial security for those writhing in poverty?  What am I able to give away or live without so that people in another country may have the basic resources of life?  How high are the walls I build around what is "mine" and what I "deserve" to have and who is enough "like me" to merit my attention?  Perhaps we, like Jesus, need to be relieved of our assumptions concerning to whom we are connected.  We are truly the Body of Christ, the "we" of God, and when one part suffers, we all suffer.

It seems that I need to re-examine some things about the way I live, how I spend, what I say, and to whom I pay attention.  I need to honor the "we" that connects all of us together in, through, and with God.  And in whatever ways I am able, I need to reach out in love, care, and yes, sacrifice.  With all people, not just those of my choosing, I need to act the way love acts when it is enfleshed.

 

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:

Genesis 2:4b-9, 15-17
Mark 7:14-23

Reflection:

I’ll Make Me a World

Can any word express what it means to be present at an act of creation? Reverence or wonder are words we us. Such beautiful things as holding the newborn, seeing the delicacy of infant fingers. Two personal events that evoked wonder were standing at the beginning of a river. At the base of a mountain water welled up out of the ground, formed a crystal clear pool, and then began to flow through Honduras as the Rio Linda. Another ‘creation experience’ was attending a symphony of Hayden’s "The Seasons" that was to be accompanied by an another composition on the theme of creation. The conductor surprised everyone by placing the unknown composition first, telling us it had not yet been recorded. Its author described how her music expressed passages from the writings of Teilhard de Chardin. Surprise accompanied wonder. Can’t we go on an on with the unrepeatable, new wonders that we meet: the peak of a sunset, a formation of geese accompanied by their honking, pictures from the Hubble Space Telescope…

The thoughts and words of the writer of Genesis make us present to see creation happen, but we also see that it is the work of Our Loving God. We see our special place, we are made in God’s image. It is, ‘very good’.

This month of February is Black History Month. It is the black poet, James Weldon Johnson who died in 1938, who wrote his poem, ‘The Creation’ in "God’s Trombones." In his images we hear a lovely retelling of the story of Creation. Here is a sampling.

"God stepped out on space and looked around, and he said, ‘I’m lonely, I’ll make me a world’….darkness covered everything, blacker than a hundred midnights down in the cypress swamp. God reached out an took the light in his hands and God rolled the light around until he made the sun….with the light that was left from making the sun, God gathered it up into a shining ball and flung it into the darkness, spangling the night with the moon and the stars. And God said, ‘That’s good’.

"God saw that the earth was hot and barren, so God stepped over to the edge of the world and spat out the seven seas….he clapped his hands and the thunders rolled….

"As God walked around, he looked at the world with all his living things, and God said: ‘It’s still lonely here.’ By a deep river he sat down, with his head in his hands God thought and thought, till he thought, ‘I know! I’ll make me a man!’

"Up from the bed of the river, God scooped the clay, by the banks of the river he kneeled him down and there the great God almighty who lit the sun, who flung the stars, who rounded the earth in the middle of both hands, this great God, like a mammy bending over her baby, kneeled down in the dust toiling over a lump of clay, until it was shaped in his own image. Into it he blew the breath of life and man became a living soul. And God said: ‘He’s good. He’s very good’."

 

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

Scripture:

Genesis 1:20-2:4a
Mark 7:1-13

Reflection:

Everywhere I look, I see the creativity of God. When I go to visit my mom in Florida I always walk along the beach at the Atlantic Ocean. Some stand there and see a huge, obscure blue body of water. When I look out I "feel" the fish and other creatures that teem in the sea. I see the intelligence, creativity and passion behind it all. Everything points to God. Yesterday Fr. Blaise gave me some pictures of a trip he and I took to the Grand Canyon. Seeing those pictures reminded me of the breathtaking beauty and goosebumps I felt when I looked at the vast colored chasm before me. Countless years shaped its beauty under God’s guiding hand.

I just received an email with a YouTube video about the Hubble telescope. Some years ago the telescope was aimed at a seemingly dark area near the Big Dipper, the size of a grain of sand at arm’s length. After ten days aimed at the same spot, astronomer’s were stunned to see some 3000 galaxies, each containing billions of stars. The Kepler spacecraft, launched less than 2 years ago is beaming back pictures of planets similar to ours adding more fuel to the argument of life on other planets. The population of our planet is due to pass 7 billion this year! And God said it was very good.

We are made in God’s image. In addition to the awe and amazement I feel when I try to fathom the environment in which we live, I can’t help get in touch with an urge and passion within. A spark of God’s creativity lives in me that I must cultivate and surrender to. This aspiration is one of the forces driving me to preach, write, produce and risk. Get in touch with the imaginative fire of God all around you and within you. St. Paul of the Cross said, "Love is ingenious." Allow the daring, unlimited, imagination of God to take you where you’ve never gone. 

 

Fr. Cedric Pisegna, C.P. is a missionary preacher, author of 14 books and creator of television and radio programs airing in many cities. You can learn more about his ministry at: http://www.frcedric.org/

 

Scripture:

Genesis 1:1-19
Mark 6:53-56

Reflection:

The scientific world is awaiting what the Hadron Accelerator can tell us of the physical beginnings of the universe.  The opening word of the Book of Genesis gave the Chosen People an imaginative insight of what the loving God prepared in the world for the human race.  While the account is not historical, it imparts a true theology.

The Triune God had no need of a creation.  The Godhead had no need of fireworks on an astronomical scale for amusement.  That God was perfectly happy as Father, Son and Spirit.  But that God was Infinite Love!

That love overflowed in a creation.  God wanted to share life and love with angels and humankind.  Humans are flesh and spirit.  They need a material universe to be themselves, to express themselves–even to love and serve the God of  the universe.

The authors of the creation story in Genesis knew only a tiny section of the planet earth.  They knew nothing of a solar system, a galaxy, or clusters of galaxies.  They saw the world around them as God’s loving provision and found descriptive ways to convey this truth of God’s love as they saw it written in earth and sky, in plants, birds and beasts, in rivers and springs, soil and fruits of the earth.  God made a home for them.

In that home, they were to love and serve God and reach fulfillment in him.  Each sunrise and moon setting could remind God’s People of God’s care for now and hope for hereafter.

We are learning more and more about the infinitely small worlds in the atom and mind-boggling expanses of space and time of our universe.  But do we really know more of the purpose of it all?  Do we know it as a Divine Gift?

Theologians and philosophers and scientists have gained deeper knowledge of the meaning of creation, but the simple people of God could know that the God who made them, made all things for their benefit.

The most learned probers of quarks and gluons may come to know more of those nano-seconds of the Big Bang.  But from the tiniest particle to the furthest limits of space, all is there because God loves us. 

Today’s section of Genesis may be fanciful in its details, but totally exact in the truth that God created us and prepared a world for our living.

So we sing: "How wonderful are your works, O Lord!  In wisdom you wrought them all!  The earth is full of your glory!"

 

Fr. Fred Sucher, C.P. is retired and lives in the Passionist community in Chicago.  For many years he taught philosophy to Passionist seminarians.

 

 

Scripture:

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

Reflection:

The Gospel today follows immediately after the Beatitudes, which was proclaimed last Sunday. This positioning of the readings implies that the Beatitudes are not only to be lived but also be seen by others. Jesus uses a string of images. The true disciple is to be the salt of the earth, a light of the world, a city set on a mountain and a lamp on a lamp stand. What is the point of being baptized and being in a Christian community if we become completely invisible to others?

What does Jesus want people to see? A packed congregation? A magnificent church building with the latest technical equipment? Pilgrims overcrowding shines? Severe penitential exercises? Preachers who attract thousands of followers? All of these might be good, but our readings don’t mention them. Isaiah tells us to fight for justice, feed the hungry, clothe the naked and house the homeless. "Then your light shall break forth like the dawn…"  Ordinary acts of charity and compassion bring light into the darkness. We don’t perform these good deeds for ourselves, so that others will think well of us or say how wonderful we are. No, the only reason for us to be salt and light is that people may be drawn to God. Maximum visibility is not to shine the light on us, but to point people in the direction of the God who loves them and is the source of their ultimate happiness.

The second reading reminds us that we don’t need to have elaborate training or postgraduate degrees. The acts of kindness Jesus wants from us are within the reach of the most simple, even illiterate, person. It is not a question of passing on knowledge but of sharing our experience of a loving God. As God has cared for us, so we extend that care to others. Our lack of skills or influence, education or power, can never be an excuse to hide our light under a bushel basket. The apostle Paul discovered that in his weakness and through his weakness God’s power became most evident, became a light shining through him.

Candles melt; bulbs burn out; and the sun sets. Perhaps this is why Jesus declared: "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life." We are not self-ignited. We are not the source of light. We do not shine on our own. The flame comes from beyond us. Make sure that the ultimate source of light (the first day of creation, God said, "Let there be light.") is the source of your light. "So that your faith [good works] do not rest on human wisdom [strength] but on the power of God."

Come, Holy Spirit, blow like the wind, burn like a fire, kindle a flame of love in my heart.

 

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

 

Scripture:

Hebrews 13:15-17, 20-21
Mark 6:30-34

Reflection:

Mark’s Gospel has a real tender side which we can be appreciated if it is read slowly.  Just to sit with some of the images Mark uses can be pretty profound.  Mark says that Jesus saw the crowd.  Mark is telling us what Jesus sees.  That alone is quite special.  When Jesus looks at the crowd he sees them with his heart. He is not looking at them with his eyes.  He is not seeing a bunch of people physically wandering around lost.  But he is describing a bigger situation.

Jesus’ image of these people was that they were like sheep without a shepherd.  Because of this, Jesus’ heart goes out to the people of the crowd.  Sheep without a shepherd means he saw people who were psychically, emotionally and spiritually lost.  Lost sheep tend to scatter all over the place.  Lost sheep can be quick to follow anyone or anything.  Lost sheep, I suspect, feel quite insecure.  And Jesus’ heart goes out to them.  

I don’t know whether Jesus entertained the question of what has caused them to be lost?  Perhaps no one has accepted the responsibility to take care of them.  Would that not be a judgment back onto the religious leaders of the time?  Are those religious leaders taking care of their sheep?  Are they neglecting their sheep? If they were taking care of them, then they wouldn’t be so lost.  Jesus sees the need, names and proclaims it, and then he steps in and does something about the situation. 

Is this different than any experience we’ve all had?  I suspect all of us have been in situations of need.  And when something needs to be done, we have several choices.  Sometimes we can ignore it and hope that it goes away.  Other times, we roll up our sleeves, step in and do something about the situation.  And hopefully, we do this because it is the right thing to do, or it is a loving act of service.  If we do it for personal gain or monetary value, we certainly have missed the point.  When we look at the history of the Church, many of the men and women who have seen needs of the human family have stepped in and risen to the occasion.  They literally have rolled up their sleeves and sacrificed.  Why?  Out of their love of Christ, they choose to lovingly enter into a situation. Many of those in the Liturgical Calendar have stepped into difficult situations in caring ways to bring promise, justice, or hope to lost sheep.  The two biggest examples of this in Church history of course are the vast number of schools
and hospitals which were founded for the needs of desperate people. 

For Jesus this isn’t merely a one-time occurrence.  This is the pattern of his life.  This is his job description.  Mark will go on to add how Jesus’ heart is filled with pity for the people.  It is this sense of compassion which I truly believe is the divine energy of Christ.  And this compassionate energy has the ability to do miracles.  It doesn’t disappear at the ascension.  It is still with us and is manifested in those who choose to see it and act with it.

The scene in the last chapter of John’s gospel between Jesus and Peter continues on this theme.  Jesus knows that someone has to continue looking after the sheep.  "Peter do you love me?," Jesus will ask.  And then Jesus will commission Peter to keep doing what Jesus himself has been doing, "Feed my sheep."  

A couple of weekends ago we had a really powerful weekend retreat.  The retreat group allowed themselves to be the mystical body of Christ.  This group empowered one another with the gifts and talents each had.  There was a tremendous amount of love and mutual respect.  And in the time we spent together, I found it so beautiful how the body of Christ did what Christ does; it brought restoration, healing and empowerment to others.  Quite profoundly, there was the Lord feeding his sheep.

Lastly, in the first reading of the day, the letter to Hebrews speaks also about leadership.  He says it is the responsibility of the leaders to keep watch over the flock.  And this should be done with great joy, not burdening others.  I know Lent is still a few weeks away, but perhaps it could be a good Lenten practice to allow ourselves to "See" a little bit better with the eyes of Jesus.

 

Fr. David Colhour, C.P. is on the staff at Christ the King Passionist Retreat Center, Citrus Heights, California.

 

 

Scripture:

Hebrews 12:18-19, 21-24
Mark 6:7-13

Reflection:

Today the Gospel of Mark reveals the early invitation to evangelization, as Jesus sends out his Twelve.

I’m always a little amazed at how quickly Jesus has people began doing his work.  As a task oriented culture many of us would ask, "How, Lord, do you expect us to expel demons, or work these many cures?"  Jesus does not seem to be concerned with "how" this is done as much as the "whats" that are involved. " What you are to take with you; what you are to leave behind; what to do if you are not received.   The how questions are all resolved because he has given the Twelve authority (over the unclean spirits).

I just returned from a retreat for high school seniors.  I have never experienced reconciliation and healing to the degree I saw this week.  I was astonished at the number of people who had grudges against others, or who had judged others and would go up to the person who they had the grudge or the judgment against, confess their grudge or judgment, acknowledged a wedge had pushed them apart and a wall had separated them.  Instantly, walls turned into hugs and tears flowed—rivers of healing water. This behavior was manifested in individual one-on-one sessions, small group sessions, and large group sessions as well.  No one asked them to do this, nor did they ask "How should I do this?" They claimed the authority and took the initiative.  The "hows" were never a question because the "whats" were first dealt with.  And the rules around "what" included leaving behind the ipods, and the masks so frequently hidden behind.

In doing so they had a real encounter with Christ.  It was not, as the letter to the Hebrews would say, on an untouchable mountain, a blazing fire, or gloomy darkness.  Rather, it was to Jesus, mediator of a new covenant, whose blood speaks more eloquently than that of Abel.

 

Fr. David Colhour, C.P. is on the staff at Christ the King Passionist Retreat Center, Citrus Heights, California.

Scripture

Hebrews 12:1-4
Mark 5:21-43

Reflection

In our gospel today Mark shows us Jesus with a large crowd gathered around him, setting out to heal the daughter of Jairus but interrupted on his journey by a strange incident.  Thus we get two miraculous healings to consider, the first one occurring at this odd interruption.  Mark’s little sympathetic details give a clear picture: "She had suffered greatly at the hands of many doctors . . . ."   She touches Jesus’ cloak; he stops, turns, and asks who has touched his clothes.  You can see the disciples throwing up their hands in despair and saying, "Practically everyone is jostling you, and you ask, ‘Who touched my clothes?’  Oy veh!"  But Jesus had known at once that power had gone out from him.  He just didn’t know who had received it.  However, the woman knew, and she came forward to fall at his feet and tell everything.

"Power had gone out from him" – not felt by everyone around him, but only by this woman, so very much in need of it and who had sought it so ardently: "If I but touch his clothes, . . ."   What is this mysterious power that this very human Jesus exudes even through his clothes?  "Power had gone out from him."

Remember that in the readings five days ago Mark had described how Jesus taught his disciples by parables. Jesus told the parable of the lamp, not placed under a bushel or under a bed, but upon the lamp stand to send forth its light through the whole room. 

Today Mark shows us Jesus teaching not by words, but by action; not by parables but by the actions indicated in the parable.  He is the parable.  What is this mysterious power that goes out from Jesus?  It is light, it is compassion, it is healing: it is the love of God for us, dwelling in Jesus, made manifest by him – the great compassionate personal love that God has for this woman and pours forth upon her through Jesus.  Power went out from him, the Power of divine love.

An incident from over sixty years ago comes to my mind.  In my senior year after school I worked in a dry cleaning store.  During that year I got quite friendly with the Jewish druggist next door, where I would go for a break (every drug store in Brooklyn had a soda fountain-lunch counter in those days).  One day the druggist, Mr. Sands, talked to me a bit about his wife.  "When I am upstairs taking a nap and hear Mrs. Sands come in and start to move about, I feel a great peace come over me.  Everything calms down and I lie there perfectly content – just knowing she is there."  I thought it was marvelous – just her presence brought him perfect peace.   Power went out from her. 

Haven’t we often experienced something similar?  A smiling face, a smiling presence brightening our day, lifting up our spirits – making us feel it is good to be alive, good to be around that person, good to have that person around.  I am convinced that Jesus moved in Mrs. Sands and moves in us, pouring God’s love from one to the other.  Where do we get such power?  Like the woman who suffered from hemorrhages, we get it from Jesus.  We go to him, we contact him, we touch him, we sit in his presence – and his power goes out from him to us, enabling us, even when we are not aware, to bring his power to others.

 

Peter Fitzpatrick, CFX, is a Xaverian Brother living at Ryken Hiouse, Louisville, across Bear Grass Creek from the Passionist Community Sacred Heart Monastery.