Daily Scripture

First Sunday of Lent

Scripture:

Deuteronomy 26.4-10
Romans 10.8-13
Luke 4.1-13

Reflection:

In a movie going back several decades, Pat O’Brien plays the role of a dock-workers priest on the east coast, defending the workers against exploitation by the dock boss.  A strong man was called in by the boss to demonstrate where the power lay in this confrontation, by his picking up a thick steel bar on the desk and bending it out of shape.  In response O’Brien picks up the same bar, and straightens it out.  This is called rectifying the situation, and this is what Lent is all about: rectification, or justice, as Pope Benedict describes Lent.

Each of today’s scriptures addresses this rectification process, in one way or another.  For example, the Deuteronomy reading presents Moses recalling some of their history to the Jewish people, starting with the "downside" earlier on, when they were captive to the Egyptians, undergoing maltreatment and oppression.  But he then recites the better days when the Jews cried out to the Lord for help, Who brought them out of Egypt with strong hand and outstretched arm.

In our second reading, Paul addresses the Jewish component among the early converts to Christianity in Rome, incredulous that the salvation they so fervently want doesn’t come from keeping the law but from faith that God raised Jesus from the dead and, what is more, that even non-Jews, i.e., gentiles, can gain the same salvation provided they share the same faith.  Thereby Paul attends to their concerns and anxieties.

Luke’s gospel account recalls the forty day ordeal Jesus spent in the desert, alone, and subject to the three temptations insidiously slipped before Him by the devil: food to allay His hunger, power over the kingdoms of the world to enhance His stature, bravado before the law of gravity to satisfy His pride, to each of which Jesus countered with His own versions of food, fealty and faithfulness, vanquishing His arch-enemy.

Lent is our opportunity to come to terms with our vulnerabilities, lying just beneath the surface of our complacencies, our comforts, our sense of accomplishment.  We suffer weaknesses, inadequacies and distortions like the Jews of old before the Egyptians or the law or like the weakened Jesus confronted by the wily Evil One.  Lent is not designed to leave us on the desk of life like a bent bar, but to alert us to our need of help-a Moses, a Paul, a Jesus (a Pat O’Brien?), so that we can be justified, as Pope Benedict would say, that is, rectified, and straightened out.  If we spend Lent recognizing our needs, we will reap, at its conclusion, convictions that help is at hand in the One Who died and rose into power and glory.  He can rectify our situation regardless of its ill-shaped condition.  

 

Fr. Sebastian MacDonald, C.P. is a member of the Passionist formation community at Catholic Theological Union, Chicago. 

Scripture:

Isaiah 58:1-9a
Matthew 9:14-15

Reflection:

"Why do we fast, and you do not see it? Afflict ourselves, and you take no note of it?" Lo, on your fast day, you carry out your own pursuits and drive all your laborers." Isaiah 58:3

Now that we have entered the Lenten season, we turn our attention to traditional Lenten practices and try to understand them in ways that make sense to us. One such practice is fasting. Many religious traditions value fasting. Therefore, it is not surprising that the Catholic Church has a long history of asking its faithful to fast, especially during the Lenten season. Many of us who take our Catholic faith seriously try to find good ways to fast and to allow fasting to renew us in some way or another. This is especially challenging for us because we live in a culture that no longer values these ancient practices. Some of us also have unpleasant memories of when we or our parents fasted before the Second Vatican Council reforms. These memories may keep us from the benefits of authentic Catholic fasting.

When I was a smoker, I used to give up cigarettes for the whole of lent, and I thought I was making a great sacrifice. It was not unusual to hear people say that they were giving up candy for lent. Then we began to believe that fasting had more to do with giving up pleasures, legitimate pleasures to be sure, than anything else. So, when life did not become better, according to our way of seeing things, we would cry out: "Why do we fast, and you do not see it? Afflict ourselves, and you take no note of it?"

Jesus was not a "traditionalist" when it came to fasting. Beginning with the Gospel Reading on Ash Wednesday, Jesus puts a context to fasting. It is the same context that we see so beautifully described in the first reading for today’s Mass: fasting is undertaken for the sake of right relationships and solidarity with those who suffer unjustly in this world. Fasting can easily lend itself to hypocrisy. When hypocrisy becomes a way of life, then no amount of fasting will wash away our guilt.

Our political culture is particularly susceptible to hypocrisy. Those who hold public trust will sometimes say one thing and do another, live a public life of rectitude and a private life of wrongdoing. It becomes easy for us to have a public face and private life. That is what the Prophet Isaiah was speaking about in our first reading. We can sometimes fall into the trap of thinking, if these famous people do this, why is it wrong for me to do the same thing?

Fasting is based upon the most fundamental foundation of our Catholic faith, the mystery of what is called "Kenosis," self-emptying, the willingness to let go even of what is good and wonderful for the sake of redemptive Love. That is what the Son of God did when he took the form of a slave and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross. This is the kind of "fasting" that God will take notice of. This is why God raised Jesus from the dead and gave him the name that is above every name, on earth and in heaven. This kind of "fasting" is what gets God’s attention.

To be efficacious, our fasting needs to lead us from those things that are unjust and unacceptable to what is right and just in our society. That is why the fast of such great leaders as Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King and Cesar Chavez became so efficacious. That is why we should not give up on fasting. We should not give up on a life that gives us the reason to fast. When we fast as Jesus fasted, God will surely hear us!

 

Fr. Clemente Barron, C.P. is a member of the General Council of the Passionist Congregation and is stationed in Rome. 

Thursday after Ash Wednesday

Scripture:

Deuteronomy 30:15-20
Luke 9:22-25

Reflection:

I presume that many of you are like me when I am saying goodbye to someone.   " It’s been so good to see you!  Take care of yourself until I see you again."  That would be followed up usually with a big hug.   Nothing like a word of encouragement and a hug to seal it.  It’s interesting to look back and realize that those "goodbyes" and hugs go with whatever age our loved ones are at: the healthy, the sick and homebound, the old and the young, the happy and the sorrowful.    

Friendship is not frozen into a photo.  Here we are the day after Ash Wednesday, at the beginning of our trip into the awesome season of Lent.  There’s a feeling of seriousness in the air.  Nothing wrong with that.   Christmas is behind us.  The baby Jesus has grown into a mature person.  There is a seriousness about Jesus.  His sincere concern about you and me is laid out very honestly: "If anyone wishes to come after me, he/she must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and come follow Me."

Friendships grow as the persons grow.  At the baptism of Jesus we read, "…heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove.  And a voice came from heaven, "you are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased."  His relationship with the Father and the Holy Spirit is affirmed with the outpouring of love to Him as God Incarnate, the Redeemer, who was to be called "Jesus" because "he would save his people from their sins."   It would take courage and lots of love as Jesus moved closer and closer to Jerusalem and crucifixion.

You and I are all at different moments in our lives.  No need for shame as we flinch or gasp at what we are facing as we grasp our own cross in 2010. We are not alone.  There is a need never to forget the precious reminder, "Greater love than this no one has but that he lay down his life for his friends."  Can I gently remind you that Jesus has that love…and that…you are that friend that He is willing to lay down his life?"

You and I will have the opportunity to think about, reflect on, sit quietly with, perhaps being helped by holding a crucifix in our hands .  Can you and I be open to hearing in our hearts those words of Jesus crucified, who says to you, "I love you.  You are my friend. "  This Lent could bring a deep, profound grace as we move along each day with realization, "Jesus loves me." Who knows what impact this will have. ..especially if we can respond, "And I love you, too."

 

Fr. Peter Berendt, C.P. is on the staff of Holy Name Passionist Retreat Center, Houston, Texas.

 

Scripture:

Jeremiah 17:5-8
1 Corinthians 15:12, 16-20
Luke 6:17, 20-26

 

 

Reflection:

What a charming coincidence that the romantic observance of Valentine’s Day falls on a Sunday when the Word of God is literally packed with powerful messages of warning and hope, love and blessedness!

When so many lovers and very well-married couples will be sharing cards, candy, and poetic protestations of affection, we will all hear at Mass on Sunday the heartfelt words of Jeremiah, St. Paul and Jesus himself.  Jeremiah cries out like the great prophet he is, first with warning…"Cursed is the one who trusts in human beings…" but then quickly and lovingly reassures us with the hopeful heart of his message…"Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose hope is the Lord…"  And as if we need even more convincing Jeremiah poetically describes those who hope and trust in the Lord as being like a tree planted beside cool, refreshing waters.  What a soothing and heartening image.  Hallmark Cards are not the only ones who send the very best to the ones they love!

Paul contributes to this feast of loving reassurance, much like Jeremiah, with a somewhat shadowy introduction, but concludes in his letter to the Corinthians with the proclamation that we all share in the glorious resurrection of Christ raised from the dead.  Our faith is indeed in vain if Christ has not been raised.  In fact, if Christ has not been raised we are still in our sins!  What a horrible thought!  But clearly Paul encourages us and wants us to remember that we are not still in the grasp of sin, that the Lord is risen and that we have reason to place our hope and trust in him.  Paul and Jeremiah, each in his own way, gives us a message even greater than the most loving Valentine I would say.

The Gospel from Luke on today’s feast is the most powerful gift of all on this Valentine’s Day.  Luke gives us his own perspective of Jesus preaching the Sermon on the Mount in which he sets forth the great beatitudes.  But Luke’s sermon is shorter than Matthew’s and has the addition of several verses of woes, warnings to those who are wealthy and who very possibly ignore the poor.  Clearly Luke has Jesus preaching to a different audience than does Matthew but his meaning is clear for all of us: living a life of beatitudes is not only about being poor, hungry, weeping, or persecuted.  Even more we must make sure that we reach out to and care for those who have less than we.  If we do this we will be blessed by God.  This Sixth Sunday in Ordinary time, dear friends, can be a Valentine’s Day even more memorable than those of the past if we warmly receive the reassurances of Jeremiah and St. Paul that for those who trust in the Lord and place their hope in him their reward shall be to live with the Christ raised up from the dead forever.  Yet, Luke brings a sobering reminder that we who are destined for eternal life must also spend a lifetime of caring and loving one another, especially the poor and those in need.

 

Fr. Pat Brennan, CP is the director of Mater Dolorosa Passionist Retreat Center, Sierra Madre, California.

 

Scripture:

1 Kings 12:26-32; 13:33-34
Mark 8:1-10

Reflection:

Some of us Passionists, vowed and lay, have had the privilege of serving at the LOAVES AND FISHES soup kitchen in downtown Sacramento, California.  In the years I volunteered, 1985-89, the building was ramshackled, yet the sign out front, bold letters on a green sign, pointed to hope.  On Mondays, people from various Catholic and other Christian churches, many inclined to charismatic prayer, came and diced onions, carrots, cut meat, opened cans, etc., all for the hundreds of people that would come for the noon meal.  Our leaders, Roberto or Ann, led us in prayer.  So often, after giving thanks, we prayed that God would send someone with some extra meat or pasta or fruit, whatever was still needed for a well-balanced meal.  EVERY SINGLE TIME GOD PROVIDED. "How many loaves do you have?", Jesus asked the disciples.  They gave what they had and Jesus multiplied their supply for all.  So much so that there were leftovers.  God will provide, God always provides, we just have to ask and do our part.

In contrast, Jeroboam, in today’s first reading is anxious about his standing: "…the hearts of this people will return to their master…"  He stands in for any of us (we could say greedy bankers or dishonest politicians, but in reality all of us) when we take our eyes off of God’s goodness and Providence.  We hear sadly at the end this reading that Jeroboam’s house "was to be cut off and destroyed from the earth."  

As we stand on the cusp of Lent, we know God’s constant reminders to us to mirror his goodness to others in our lives.  By simple acts of sharing of loaves of bread, of fish, of our moments of giving attention to the needs of others, the reign of God breaks out.  

 

Fr. Bob Bovenzi, C.P. is stationed in Houston, Texas.

Scripture:

1 Kings 11:29-32; 12:19
Mark 7:31-37

Reflection:

Evagrius Ponticus, a fourth-century Christian monk, instructed his disciples: "Strive to render your mind deaf and dumb at the time of prayer and then you will be able to pray." Evagrius was offering advice on a form of contemplative prayer called meditation. As a mystic, he trusted that God is present in the depth of the human heart and that inner Divinity could be accessed through the discipline of meditation.

The goal of meditation is to encounter the presence of God within the Silence of one’s Heart. This is accomplished through a gradual withdrawal of the physical senses from stimulation with the external world. Step by step, the meditator cuts off contact with the outside world by closing the sense doors one by one. First, the eyes go shut (that is the easy part). Then the meditator begins to encounter the constant chatter of the ego-mind which is agitated with desires, volitions and opinions. By advising the Christian meditator "to render the mind deaf and dumb," Evagrius is pointing the way to God which is beyond words, images and mental concepts. He is encouraging the meditator to continue the inner battle with the ego which fiercely resists being quiet. In time, the presence of God will be revealed within the depths of one’s self. This penetrating dynamic is described by the Psalmist as "deep calling unto deep" (Psalm 42:7).

Whenever the Gospels speak of Jesus healing physical afflictions, anyone walking the spiritual path realizes that the story also points to an inner healing. The transformative grace of meditation comes when we are finally able to go "deaf and dumb" in prayer – when we move our consciousness beyond words and concepts. For then the spiritual ears are open to the inner voice of God and any impediments to communication with the Spirit are removed. The blessing received by the impaired man in the Gospel is once again manifested: "the deaf hear and the mute speak."

Fr. Joe Mitchell, CP is the director of the Passionist Earth & Spirit Center in Louisville, KY.

See his website: www.earthandspiritcenter.org

Scripture:
1 Kings 11:4-13
Mark 7:24-30

Reflection:
Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs."  Then he said to her, "For saying that, you may go–the demon has left your daughter." So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.

No amount of biblical gymnastics can soften the insulting words of Jesus.  He called this nameless Syrophoenician woman a dog.  She begged Jesus to heal her daughter, but he compared her to a dog and the Jews to children around the table to whom he’s feeding bread. 

But this woman’s faith was unshaken.  She understood what Jesus meant.  She’s not a Jew; she is not one of the "children" but one of the "dogs."  She’s an outsider.  And she also understood that Jesus gives out bread.  She was willing to beg for the crumbs she knew she didn’t deserve.  She appealed to his mercy, not his justice.

Jesus saw the woman’s great faith and healed her daughter.

The faith – and humility – of this nameless woman, stands in stark contrast to anyone who believes that God owes us – owes us a good life, owes us happiness, owes us a great job, owes us trial-free life.  We deserve it; after all, we’re faithful Catholics, we never miss Mass, we pray the rosary.  These are good practices, don’t get me wrong.  But God’s grace isn’t something we purchase with our good works.  God’s grace is rich and complex, his love for us is freely given, pure gift.

Why doesn’t Scripture give us the woman’s name?  It does.  It’s your name and mine.

In sin, we all stand as outsiders.  In faith, we are invited to stand at the table with that nameless woman and humbly beg for God’s crumbs.

 

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

Scripture:

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

Reflection:

Mothers of young children are accustomed to saying daily, in an automatic fashion, "Wash your hands before we eat" or "Did you remember to wash"? This reminder becomes almost a ritual preceding a meal, a tradition of motherhood.  It is good to instill the value of cleanliness and proper hygiene into children as they grow.  Some families even have a certain kind of soap in a special container for the kids.  Currently, because of H1N1 and fears of contagion, a tradition is developing of singing "Happy Birthday" while washing to ensure the appropriate number of seconds for a thoroughly sanitizing scrub.  But a 25 year old man singing "Happy Birthday" in a public washroom while scrubbing his hands would seem extremely odd and immature.   To that individual, the support for the value would have become equal to, if not greater than, the value itself.

In today’s Gospel Jesus is not denigrating the value of hand washing or of ritual cleansing to which the Pharisees referred.  However, he is confronting and challenging the hypocrisy of the Pharisees who ask a question but are really making an accusation.  Why don’t your disciples wash before eating? is really meant to say: your disciples are less holy than us; they ignore the traditions of our ancestors.  For the Pharisees, the minutia of tradition equates with holiness before God.  Jesus’ counter accuses the Pharisees that they have made their traditions superior of God’s commandment even to the point of circumventing the Law entirely.  To them, the practice of "korban", giving money to the Temple, is more important than caring for one’s parents.  The values of the Law, justice, charity and love, have been cast aside by greed, pride and arrogance, the result of a false use of tradition.

In the church today there are heated arguments over ritual and liturgical traditions, both old and newly established.  Who can stand where?  Who can say what? Who can wash the dishes?  Who has priority of status over whom?  The fundamental human need to worship God becomes all but forgotten in the piling on of dictates and practices that have more to do with control and power than with worship, justice, charity and love of God and neighbor.  One can only wonder what the response of Jesus to such arguments would be today.

 

Cathy Anthony is on the staff of St. Paul of the Cross Passionist Retreat and Conference Center, Detroit, Michigan.