We are about to enter into one of the most important seasons of the Church’s year. At the same time, we are very conscious of how the weeks in the run-up to and including what is essentially a Christian festival have become somewhat overwhelmed by the ethos of shopping and materialism. One could forgive a visiting alien for being completely bewildered as to what the season of Advent and Christmas is really all about.
There are two very distinct but entirely opposed faces to Christmas: on the one hand we have Father Christmas standing in the rain collecting money outside the supermarkets, next to his sleigh (on wheels, with the distinctive rumble of a diesel engine coming from underneath it); rack upon rack of Christmas cards sporting glitzy pictures of snowmen and Christmas trees; we have false snow on shop window fronts; tinsel and glitter everywhere; reindeer with big red noses; piped Christmas pop music seemingly throughout the land; drinks parties and crowds of shoppers on every High Street spending money they don’t necessarily have.
The other face of Christmas presents us with images of a very young woman – not much more than a girl - far from the comfort of home and the reassurance of her family, lying on a bed of filthy straw giving birth for the first time; we see her newborn baby with nowhere to sleep except in the animals’ food trough; we have a handful of poor shepherds on a hillside on a very cold Middle Eastern night.
Of these two faces of Christmas, it was the poverty and silence of scene in the stable which attracted the jubilation of the angels and of the whole company of heaven. For it was the child being put to bed in the animal trough of which, centuries before, the prophet Isaiah had written …
… on him the spirit of the Lord rests,
a spirit of wisdom and insight,
a spirit of counsel and power,
a spirit of knowledge.
He gives no verdict on hearsay,
but judges the wretched with integrity,
and with equity gives a verdict for the poor of the land.
His word is a rod that strikes the ruthless,
his sentences bring death to the wicked.
Integrity is the loincloth around his waist,
faithfulness the belt about his hips. (Is 11:1)
For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given:
and the government will be upon his shoulder:
and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counsellor
The Mighty God;
The everlasting Father
The Prince of Peace. Isaiah 60:1-3 & 9:6
It was the baby delivered into the world in such difficult and humble circumstances of whom the psalmist wrote that his would be …
… a voice that speaks of peace,
peace for his people.
His help is near for those who fear him
and his glory will dwell in our land.
Mercy and faithfulness have met;
justice and peace have embraced.
Justice shall march before him
and peace shall follow his steps. (Ps 84:9-14)
As all the shops become increasingly decked out with decorations, and the number of illuminated snowmen and sleighs adorn the roofs of houses across the land, so the Church begins to gear itself up for a time of deep reflection and seriousness.
On the first Sunday of Advent in churches all around the world purple becomes the colour of the season: tabernacles are covered in purple veils and Christian clergymen and women will don purple stoles and chasubles. Purple is the colour of seriousness: it is the colour which calls us to penance and to a time of solemn preparation. The public perception (even amongst the Christian community) of what we are preparing for during Advent has, for a very long time, been misunderstood, for the first part of Advent (the first two weeks) is all about preparation for Christ’s second coming. It is not a time of preparation for remembering his first appearance, i.e. his birth in Bethlehem on that first Christmas morning. The Mass readings in the first couple of weeks bear out the call to prepare ourselves for the promised end of all things, when Jesus will come back to the world and there will be judgement for all of mankind. We are asked to imagine what it will be like to stand before him and called to give an account of ourselves: our thoughts, our words and our actions, particularly those which have damaged our relationships with others and, therefore, with God ….
“Therefore, you too must stand ready because the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect” Matthew 24:44
“His winnowing-fan is in his hand; he will clear his threshing-floor and gather his wheat into the barn; but the chaff he will burn in a fire that will never go out” (Matthew 3:12
“Be on your guard, stay awake, because you never know when the time will come” Mark 13:33
“The Day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then with a roar the sky will vanish, the elements will catch fire and fall apart, the earth and all that it contains will be burnt up” 2 Pet 3:10
“And then you will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. Stay awake, praying at all times for the strength to survive all that is going to happen, and to stand with confidence before the Son of Man” Luke 21:27, 36
The solemnity of this time of year cannot be emphasised enough if we are to use this time of preparation well. Like Lent, it is a time when we have to really search our souls and see the ways in which we stand in need of God’s healing.
But … it isn’t all doom and gloom! The tone of Advent changes completely after the third Sunday of Advent, otherwise known as Gaudete Sunday, or joyful Sunday. At this point, and after two weeks of soul-searching, we begin to think about the fact that Jesus has already been amongst us and has shown us how it is possible to be transformed. He transformed those who came to him when he walked the earth 2,000 years ago. He makes himself available, still, for our own transformation, through his Word and through the sacraments of the Church. We can read for ourselves with what compassion and mercy he deals with those who come to him. I particularly love this passage by St Teresa of Lisieux (from her book, ‘Story of a Soul’, ISBN 0-935216-58-8) which sings of the love and mercy of Jesus and which, knowing how deeply flawed we all are, should give us great hope …
“I have only to glance at the Gospels: at once this fragrance from the life of Jesus reaches me. Even if I had all the crimes possible on my conscience, I am sure I would lose none of my confidence. Heartbroken with repentance, I would simply throw myself into my Saviour’s arms, for I know how much he loves the prodigal son. I have heard what he said to Mary Magdalene, to the woman taken in adultery, and to the Samaritan woman. No one can make me frightened any more, because I know what to believe about his mercy and love; I know that in a twinkling of an eye all those thousands of sins would be consumed as a drop of water cast into a blazing fire.”
There is no doubt that Christmas should be a time for celebration and thanksgiving, for families to get together and to rejoice. Our rejoicing, though, is made all the more profound and meaningful if we have spent Advent seriously considering who Jesus is to us as individuals and as a community, and what the outlook might have been without that first Christmas Day.
Tuesday, 1 December 2009
Tuesday, 17 November 2009
Why did you doubt?
Then Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side of the lake, while he sent the people away. After sending the people away, he went up a hill by himself to pray. When evening came, Jesus was there alone; and by this time the boat was far out in the lake, tossed about by the waves, because the wind was blowing against it. Between three and six o’clock in the morning Jesus came to the disciples, walking on the water. When they saw him walking on the water, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost!” they said, and screamed with fear. Jesus spoke to them at once. “Courage!” he said. “It is I. Don’t be afraid!” Then Peter spoke up. “Lord, if it is really you, order me to come out on the water to you.” “Come!” answered Jesus. So Peter got out of the boat and started walking on the water to Jesus. But when he noticed the strong wind, he was afraid and started to sink down in the water. “Save me, Lord!” he cried. At once Jesus reached out and grabbed hold of him and said, “How little faith you have! Why did you doubt?” They both got into the boat and the wind died down. Matthew 14:22-32
Here we have one of those stories which we have heard so many times that we are in danger of it ceasing to have the sort of impact on us that it really should have. For this story encapsulates the sort of faith to which Jesus is calling us all the time – not just for one or two glorious moments of our lives, but all the time. It is the sort of faith which works miracles, both small and big. This story tells us everything we need to know about how Jesus works – or would like to work! – in our lives.
Let us watch this scene in our imaginations. Let us see the disciples clambering into their boat and setting off across the lake and, as it turns out, into troubled water. They have left Jesus behind and are batting against a very strong headwind. They are in absolutely no danger – the waves aren’t overwhelming – but it is extremely heavy and hard-going.
All of a sudden they are aware of the person of Jesus walking near to them on the water. To their secular and mortal minds, this is something which is impossible. To their logic, they must be looking at a ghost for there is no other reasonable explanation. In their alarm, they scream out in fear, and who can blame them for that? Jesus knows that they are frightened by what is going on and, probably feeling a little sorry for them, calls out to them that it really is him and not to be afraid.
It is Peter, so impetuous but always quick to recognise the truth when it is presented to him (wasn’t he the first to declare who Jesus really was? Matt 16:16) who challenges Jesus: if it really is you, Jesus, then tell me to come to you. Well, how could Jesus resist such a direct challenge? Come on, then, Peter, come and join me. To his eternal credit, Peter steps out of the boat.
Now let us just stop for a moment and imagine this scenario. Take yourself in your imagination to that boat. Imagine …
… the dark night
… the strong wind
… the rocking boat
… the inky black rolling waves
Would you step out into that? I doubt that many would! But here we have Peter, recognising the Lord and determined to respond to his call to ‘come’ and join him. We see him actually stepping out of the boat and setting off across the water to be with Jesus. His belief and faith in Jesus, and in divine power to overcome the apparently impossible is, at this point, total. We know that to be true for we hear that he set off, walking across the water. For a few glorious moments, he is living the divine life as Jesus is calling him to live it. The divine power of God, present in each of his followers, has overcome the physical world and the laws of physics, and Peter – a mere mortal – is walking on water.
But what happens next? Peter is suddenly reminded by the wind of his flawed humanity and of his mortality. There must have been a sudden gust of wind which caused him to lose confidence, to lose faith in Jesus and in his power to overcome, and he begins to sink into the waves. Jesus, knowing how deeply flawed his beloved friends and disciples are, reaches out and lifts him up.
This is a fantastic passage with which we have to engage more fully than as mere on-lookers. We need to try and enter into it in order to see how Jesus works for and with us every single day of our lives. Let us put ourselves into that boat …
We are sent ahead of Jesus …
Jesus sends his friends ahead of him, and this is exactly what is demanded of anyone who calls him or herself a Christian in any age: we are asked to go out into the world in which we live, work and move to proclaim the person of Jesus by the way we live. When Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist, gazes at his beautiful new baby son, whom he knows has been given the task of proclaiming Jesus, he says: “As for you, little child, you shall be called a prophet of God, the Most High. You shall go ahead of the Lord to prepare his ways before him.” We are called to do no less: to bring people to the Lord by the way we live. However, we know how hard this can be on two counts. Firstly, it is hard to live permanently at one with God and his will, for we are so flawed and are always failing. Secondly, it is hard because we live in a very secular world in which the message of Jesus is not always welcomed.
Therefore, our journey is never going to be straight forward and there will be times when, like the disciples struggling in their boat against a strong headwind and rough seas, we will feel exhausted.
Where is the Lord when I need him?
In all our troubles and challenges, it is easy to feel that we are on our own, for direct experiences of the presence of Jesus can seem, in our ordinary day-to-day secular lives, to be few and far between. But this passage points us to the reality of Jesus present now. Just as he walked into the difficult situation in which his friends in the boat had found themselves, he walks quietly and calmly into our difficult moments and, quite simply, demands faith. Don’t be frightened … I am with you … come! … you can do it … have courage … have faith …
Faith! What a hard thing that is when one is sincerely frightened. In this passage we get a glimpse of what ‘faith’ means as far as Jesus is concerned. It means confidence, trust, reliance, assurance, conviction and belief. We also, thankfully, get a glimpse of what happens when humanity is able to put its trust in the Lord: a miracle of mammoth proportions.
What if I can’t quite live up to Peter’s faith?
This passage is crying out to us to at least try to live up to the sort of faith displayed by Peter. We are called out to seek Jesus at all times and to have faith in him to carry out his work on this earth through us, and sometimes that will require faith to overcome apparently impossible obstacles. We are urged to have such faith. I love to imagine the possibilities and potential of having such faith: all the things it should be possible for us to do in the name of Him who calls us.
But then, like Peter, how easily we are reminded of our flawed humanity and we are held back from our full potential. However, we should take heart, for we are reminded of Jesus’ unfailing love for flawed humanity when we hear that he reaches out in the deepest possible love and compassion to the sinking Peter and lifts him up. That act of ‘lifting up’ can take all forms in our lives – we can be lifted up in so many ways. How often we are lifted up by those moments of prayer when Jesus talks to us and encourages us in our own particular journey. How often we are lifted up by those around us who are kind to us and affirm us. We are lifted up by the wonder of creation around us – and that includes the cold wind and the rain – for we are reminded of the eternal Creator God for whom nothing is impossible and who calls us to a closer union with him in order that his glory may be made known to the world. May Peter pray for us that, like him, we can step out of our boat and find the sort of faith which will set us free.
Here we have one of those stories which we have heard so many times that we are in danger of it ceasing to have the sort of impact on us that it really should have. For this story encapsulates the sort of faith to which Jesus is calling us all the time – not just for one or two glorious moments of our lives, but all the time. It is the sort of faith which works miracles, both small and big. This story tells us everything we need to know about how Jesus works – or would like to work! – in our lives.
Let us watch this scene in our imaginations. Let us see the disciples clambering into their boat and setting off across the lake and, as it turns out, into troubled water. They have left Jesus behind and are batting against a very strong headwind. They are in absolutely no danger – the waves aren’t overwhelming – but it is extremely heavy and hard-going.
All of a sudden they are aware of the person of Jesus walking near to them on the water. To their secular and mortal minds, this is something which is impossible. To their logic, they must be looking at a ghost for there is no other reasonable explanation. In their alarm, they scream out in fear, and who can blame them for that? Jesus knows that they are frightened by what is going on and, probably feeling a little sorry for them, calls out to them that it really is him and not to be afraid.
It is Peter, so impetuous but always quick to recognise the truth when it is presented to him (wasn’t he the first to declare who Jesus really was? Matt 16:16) who challenges Jesus: if it really is you, Jesus, then tell me to come to you. Well, how could Jesus resist such a direct challenge? Come on, then, Peter, come and join me. To his eternal credit, Peter steps out of the boat.
Now let us just stop for a moment and imagine this scenario. Take yourself in your imagination to that boat. Imagine …
… the dark night
… the strong wind
… the rocking boat
… the inky black rolling waves
Would you step out into that? I doubt that many would! But here we have Peter, recognising the Lord and determined to respond to his call to ‘come’ and join him. We see him actually stepping out of the boat and setting off across the water to be with Jesus. His belief and faith in Jesus, and in divine power to overcome the apparently impossible is, at this point, total. We know that to be true for we hear that he set off, walking across the water. For a few glorious moments, he is living the divine life as Jesus is calling him to live it. The divine power of God, present in each of his followers, has overcome the physical world and the laws of physics, and Peter – a mere mortal – is walking on water.
But what happens next? Peter is suddenly reminded by the wind of his flawed humanity and of his mortality. There must have been a sudden gust of wind which caused him to lose confidence, to lose faith in Jesus and in his power to overcome, and he begins to sink into the waves. Jesus, knowing how deeply flawed his beloved friends and disciples are, reaches out and lifts him up.
This is a fantastic passage with which we have to engage more fully than as mere on-lookers. We need to try and enter into it in order to see how Jesus works for and with us every single day of our lives. Let us put ourselves into that boat …
We are sent ahead of Jesus …
Jesus sends his friends ahead of him, and this is exactly what is demanded of anyone who calls him or herself a Christian in any age: we are asked to go out into the world in which we live, work and move to proclaim the person of Jesus by the way we live. When Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist, gazes at his beautiful new baby son, whom he knows has been given the task of proclaiming Jesus, he says: “As for you, little child, you shall be called a prophet of God, the Most High. You shall go ahead of the Lord to prepare his ways before him.” We are called to do no less: to bring people to the Lord by the way we live. However, we know how hard this can be on two counts. Firstly, it is hard to live permanently at one with God and his will, for we are so flawed and are always failing. Secondly, it is hard because we live in a very secular world in which the message of Jesus is not always welcomed.
Therefore, our journey is never going to be straight forward and there will be times when, like the disciples struggling in their boat against a strong headwind and rough seas, we will feel exhausted.
Where is the Lord when I need him?
In all our troubles and challenges, it is easy to feel that we are on our own, for direct experiences of the presence of Jesus can seem, in our ordinary day-to-day secular lives, to be few and far between. But this passage points us to the reality of Jesus present now. Just as he walked into the difficult situation in which his friends in the boat had found themselves, he walks quietly and calmly into our difficult moments and, quite simply, demands faith. Don’t be frightened … I am with you … come! … you can do it … have courage … have faith …
Faith! What a hard thing that is when one is sincerely frightened. In this passage we get a glimpse of what ‘faith’ means as far as Jesus is concerned. It means confidence, trust, reliance, assurance, conviction and belief. We also, thankfully, get a glimpse of what happens when humanity is able to put its trust in the Lord: a miracle of mammoth proportions.
What if I can’t quite live up to Peter’s faith?
This passage is crying out to us to at least try to live up to the sort of faith displayed by Peter. We are called out to seek Jesus at all times and to have faith in him to carry out his work on this earth through us, and sometimes that will require faith to overcome apparently impossible obstacles. We are urged to have such faith. I love to imagine the possibilities and potential of having such faith: all the things it should be possible for us to do in the name of Him who calls us.
But then, like Peter, how easily we are reminded of our flawed humanity and we are held back from our full potential. However, we should take heart, for we are reminded of Jesus’ unfailing love for flawed humanity when we hear that he reaches out in the deepest possible love and compassion to the sinking Peter and lifts him up. That act of ‘lifting up’ can take all forms in our lives – we can be lifted up in so many ways. How often we are lifted up by those moments of prayer when Jesus talks to us and encourages us in our own particular journey. How often we are lifted up by those around us who are kind to us and affirm us. We are lifted up by the wonder of creation around us – and that includes the cold wind and the rain – for we are reminded of the eternal Creator God for whom nothing is impossible and who calls us to a closer union with him in order that his glory may be made known to the world. May Peter pray for us that, like him, we can step out of our boat and find the sort of faith which will set us free.
Tuesday, 20 October 2009
Why go to Mass?
Why, indeed, go to Mass? One of the most important and visible signs that someone is a Catholic is that they take seriously the obligation to go to Mass on a Sunday. For many years Catholics were told that if they did not go to Mass on a Sunday, this was a sin so grievous as to warrant eternal punishment. However, whilst there does remain a serious obligation to attend Sunday Mass, a great deal of Church thinking has changed since this particular dictate was prevalent amongst the faithful, and Catholics are, at last, going to Sunday Mass because they want to.
Why was it so important for the Church to ensure that people went to Mass every week, to the point where eternal punishment was threatened if they failed to attend? It was seen as crucial because, since the beginning of the early Church, the Mass was seen as the central and key part of the life of the universal Church, the re-enactment of the story of our healing and redemption; a memorial of what Jesus went through for our sake, and a crucial opportunity to keep the faithful well-versed in moral truths.
It was important because, of all the sacraments of the Church, this was the one in which the very person of Jesus Christ is made truly present. Present in such a way that we, like the many people in the bible who flocked to him and who found their healing, can come to him also.
Thankfully, as I have said above, Catholics now go to Mass because they want to. They want to because they recognise that it is in the Mass that we come together, as a loving community, to hear what God has to say to us and to receive him, personally and intimately into our lives.
The Mass always starts with the priest welcoming the faithful who have gathered together, as a community, under one roof, and inviting them to make the Sign of the Cross, a clear statement of in whose name everyone has gathered.
Given that it would be unthinkable to be preparing to come into the true presence of Jesus without first giving thought to how we may have offended him, we then enter into the Penitential Rite. In this part of the Mass we reflect upon our faults and failings, and the ways in which we may have offended God and others in our lives, expressing our regret, openly and verbally, and asking God to have mercy upon us and to heal those aspects of our past and present which stand in need of his healing hand.
In the Readings which follow, we hear from the various books of the Old Testament or from the letters written by, among others, St Paul, to the many Christian communities springing up in places such as Corinth, Ephesus and Rome. Above all, we listen to a passage from one of the Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke or John). It is an incredible thought that God, the great Creator of all that exists, the almighty ‘I Am’ of all eternity, has actually spoken to us. We can hear what he has to say to us, directly, through everything that Jesus said and did whilst he was with us on earth. Catholics therefore believe that in listening to these Gospels, we are listening to Jesus speaking to us, for it is in these Gospels that we hear about the life, work and words of Jesus. The Gospels are central, they are the hinge, in terms of learning how to put Christian life and love into practice in our everyday lives.
The readings end with an explanation, a Homily, given by the priest of what we have just heard, and then, standing, the community is joined as one in its declaration of what it believes, in the recitation of the Creed. Still standing, we turn to God with our Bidding Prayers, lifting up before him the many and varied needs of the world, our more immediate community and our own particular needs.
In the Offertory part of the Mass the faithful bring gifts of bread and wine to the altar. In this act, the whole community gives thanks, firstly, for the fact that God will shortly make himself present to us through the miracle of the Eucharist. It is also a moment in which we express our thanks for all the goodness which God pours out upon us, an expression made perfect by the personal offering of ourselves to Him.
Then, at last, we embark upon that part of the Mass which was instigated by Jesus himself at the Last Supper: the gift of himself in the form of bread and wine, the Eucharist.
What can one say about this? How is it possible to adequately put into words the enormity and beauty of such a miracle as Jesus amongst us again? How can one quantify such a love for humanity that Jesus felt unable to leave us, unable to abandon us? A love which demanded and continues to demand to be made present amongst us, thousands of times a day in churches all around the world. A love which so yearns to come to us in order that we too, like the people who flocked to him in the many stories of the New Testament, may also find healing and strength.
This is why Catholics go to Mass! We flock to Mass because we long to be with the Lord; because we know how much we need him in our lives; because we long for his love and mercy; because we long to hear him speaking to us; we long to express our sorrow about all manner of things, and we long for his healing.
It is as simple as this ….. we long to be with the Lord.
Of course, there are many Catholics who choose not to go to Mass, often for reasons such as they don’t like the music, or they don’t like the priest, or Mass is boring, or whatever. I imagine there are many Catholics who can relate to one or all of these at some time in their lives! Sadly, this is more often as a result of our failure to grasp the meaning of the power of the Mass in our lives, and is also a reflection of our failure to understand that in order to get the most out of Mass, the onus is on us to enter, fully and freely, into the miracle of the Mass, always miraculous regardless of whether we like the priest or the music or not.
The Mass is a truly ancient form of liturgy, and before I leave you I must share with you the words of St Justin, one of the early martyrs (he died about AD165) of the infant Church, in which he describes the worship of the faithful of the newly-born Church …
In that day which is called after the Sun, all who are in the towns and in the country gather together for a communal celebration, and then the memoirs of the Apostles and the writings of the prophets are read, as long as time permits. After the reader has finished his task, the one presiding gives an address, urgently admonishing his hearers to practise these beautiful teachings in their lives. Then all stand up together and recite prayers for ourselves, for the newly baptised, and for others all over the world. After finishing the prayers we greet each other with a kiss. Then bread and a cup of wine mixed with water are brought to the one presiding over the brethren. He takes it, gives praise and glory to the Father of all in the name of the Son and the Holy Spirit, and gives thanks (eucharistises) at length, as much as in him lies, for the gifts that we were worthy to receive from Him. When he has finished the prayers and the thanksgiving, the whole crowd standing by cries out in agreement, “Amen!” After the presiding official has said thanks, and the people have joined in, the deacons distribute as food for all present the bread and the wine-and-water-mixed, over which the thanks (eucharist) has been offered, and which they carry to those not present. No one may partake of it unless he is convinced of the truth of our teaching, and has been cleansed in the washing of baptism and is living as Christ taught us. For not as common bread and common drink do we receive these; but as Jesus Christ our Saviour, made flesh by the Word of God, took flesh and blood for our salvation, so likewise have we been taught that the food which is consecrated by the prayer of His words is the Flesh and Blood of that Jesus who became flesh and blood. And they who have wealth and are of good will, give what each one thinks fit, and what is collected is deposited with the one presiding, who therewith helps widows and orphans and those who through sickness or any other cause, are in want. (From the Writings of St Justin)
Why was it so important for the Church to ensure that people went to Mass every week, to the point where eternal punishment was threatened if they failed to attend? It was seen as crucial because, since the beginning of the early Church, the Mass was seen as the central and key part of the life of the universal Church, the re-enactment of the story of our healing and redemption; a memorial of what Jesus went through for our sake, and a crucial opportunity to keep the faithful well-versed in moral truths.
It was important because, of all the sacraments of the Church, this was the one in which the very person of Jesus Christ is made truly present. Present in such a way that we, like the many people in the bible who flocked to him and who found their healing, can come to him also.
Thankfully, as I have said above, Catholics now go to Mass because they want to. They want to because they recognise that it is in the Mass that we come together, as a loving community, to hear what God has to say to us and to receive him, personally and intimately into our lives.
The Mass always starts with the priest welcoming the faithful who have gathered together, as a community, under one roof, and inviting them to make the Sign of the Cross, a clear statement of in whose name everyone has gathered.
Given that it would be unthinkable to be preparing to come into the true presence of Jesus without first giving thought to how we may have offended him, we then enter into the Penitential Rite. In this part of the Mass we reflect upon our faults and failings, and the ways in which we may have offended God and others in our lives, expressing our regret, openly and verbally, and asking God to have mercy upon us and to heal those aspects of our past and present which stand in need of his healing hand.
In the Readings which follow, we hear from the various books of the Old Testament or from the letters written by, among others, St Paul, to the many Christian communities springing up in places such as Corinth, Ephesus and Rome. Above all, we listen to a passage from one of the Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke or John). It is an incredible thought that God, the great Creator of all that exists, the almighty ‘I Am’ of all eternity, has actually spoken to us. We can hear what he has to say to us, directly, through everything that Jesus said and did whilst he was with us on earth. Catholics therefore believe that in listening to these Gospels, we are listening to Jesus speaking to us, for it is in these Gospels that we hear about the life, work and words of Jesus. The Gospels are central, they are the hinge, in terms of learning how to put Christian life and love into practice in our everyday lives.
The readings end with an explanation, a Homily, given by the priest of what we have just heard, and then, standing, the community is joined as one in its declaration of what it believes, in the recitation of the Creed. Still standing, we turn to God with our Bidding Prayers, lifting up before him the many and varied needs of the world, our more immediate community and our own particular needs.
In the Offertory part of the Mass the faithful bring gifts of bread and wine to the altar. In this act, the whole community gives thanks, firstly, for the fact that God will shortly make himself present to us through the miracle of the Eucharist. It is also a moment in which we express our thanks for all the goodness which God pours out upon us, an expression made perfect by the personal offering of ourselves to Him.
Then, at last, we embark upon that part of the Mass which was instigated by Jesus himself at the Last Supper: the gift of himself in the form of bread and wine, the Eucharist.
What can one say about this? How is it possible to adequately put into words the enormity and beauty of such a miracle as Jesus amongst us again? How can one quantify such a love for humanity that Jesus felt unable to leave us, unable to abandon us? A love which demanded and continues to demand to be made present amongst us, thousands of times a day in churches all around the world. A love which so yearns to come to us in order that we too, like the people who flocked to him in the many stories of the New Testament, may also find healing and strength.
This is why Catholics go to Mass! We flock to Mass because we long to be with the Lord; because we know how much we need him in our lives; because we long for his love and mercy; because we long to hear him speaking to us; we long to express our sorrow about all manner of things, and we long for his healing.
It is as simple as this ….. we long to be with the Lord.
Of course, there are many Catholics who choose not to go to Mass, often for reasons such as they don’t like the music, or they don’t like the priest, or Mass is boring, or whatever. I imagine there are many Catholics who can relate to one or all of these at some time in their lives! Sadly, this is more often as a result of our failure to grasp the meaning of the power of the Mass in our lives, and is also a reflection of our failure to understand that in order to get the most out of Mass, the onus is on us to enter, fully and freely, into the miracle of the Mass, always miraculous regardless of whether we like the priest or the music or not.
The Mass is a truly ancient form of liturgy, and before I leave you I must share with you the words of St Justin, one of the early martyrs (he died about AD165) of the infant Church, in which he describes the worship of the faithful of the newly-born Church …
In that day which is called after the Sun, all who are in the towns and in the country gather together for a communal celebration, and then the memoirs of the Apostles and the writings of the prophets are read, as long as time permits. After the reader has finished his task, the one presiding gives an address, urgently admonishing his hearers to practise these beautiful teachings in their lives. Then all stand up together and recite prayers for ourselves, for the newly baptised, and for others all over the world. After finishing the prayers we greet each other with a kiss. Then bread and a cup of wine mixed with water are brought to the one presiding over the brethren. He takes it, gives praise and glory to the Father of all in the name of the Son and the Holy Spirit, and gives thanks (eucharistises) at length, as much as in him lies, for the gifts that we were worthy to receive from Him. When he has finished the prayers and the thanksgiving, the whole crowd standing by cries out in agreement, “Amen!” After the presiding official has said thanks, and the people have joined in, the deacons distribute as food for all present the bread and the wine-and-water-mixed, over which the thanks (eucharist) has been offered, and which they carry to those not present. No one may partake of it unless he is convinced of the truth of our teaching, and has been cleansed in the washing of baptism and is living as Christ taught us. For not as common bread and common drink do we receive these; but as Jesus Christ our Saviour, made flesh by the Word of God, took flesh and blood for our salvation, so likewise have we been taught that the food which is consecrated by the prayer of His words is the Flesh and Blood of that Jesus who became flesh and blood. And they who have wealth and are of good will, give what each one thinks fit, and what is collected is deposited with the one presiding, who therewith helps widows and orphans and those who through sickness or any other cause, are in want. (From the Writings of St Justin)
The man believed ...
Then Jesus went back to Cana in Galilee, where he had turned the water into wine. A government official was there whose son was ill in Capernaum. When he heard that Jesus had come from Judea to Galilee, he went to him and asked him to go to Capernaum and heal his son, who was about to die. Jesus said to him, “None of you will ever believe unless you see miracles and wonders”. “Sir,” replied the official, “Come with me before my child dies.” Jesus said to him, “Go, your son will live!” The man believed Jesus’ words and went. On his way home his servants met him with the news, “Your boy is going to live!” He asked them at what time it was when his son got better, and they answered, “It was one o’clock yesterday afternoon when the fever left him.” Then the father remembered it was at that very hour that Jesus had told him, “Your son will live.” So he and all his family believed. John 4:48
A government official, anxious that Jesus should follow him straight away to Capernaum where his son lay dying, approaches Jesus knowing that Jesus alone can bring the healing that he is seeking. He wants him to come and lay his hands on his son because he knows that this is how Jesus has brought healing to others. Jesus, in what may have been a slightly exasperated tone and probably a little fed up that people refuse to believe in him unless they can see tangible proof of his miracles exclaims, not perhaps so much to the official but to the crowd, "None of you will ever believe unless you see miracles and wonders!"
Jesus then turns to the official and tells him: “Your son will live". The official can do nothing but accept these words in faith, as he is a full day's journey from home. He must have faith in a miracle unseen. It isn't until the next day, as he arrives home, that he discovers that his prayer has been answered - his servants confirm that the healing took place at the exact hour that he was having his conversation with Jesus the previous day.
I often think about his journey home … did he walk that full day’s journey firm in the belief that his son was cured? … did he secretly harbour niggling doubts that his son might still be unwell? Was he astonished by the news that his servants brought to him, or did he greet the news without a flicker of surprise? Despite the fact that I like to think that he was completely normal and therefore did have small doubts, I suspect that in reality his faith in this unseen miracle and on this occasion was rock solid. Faith in Jesus’ power over our lives and in our prayer life is so important: indeed, in so many places in the Gospels Jesus reminds us of the necessity of faith in order to bring about the miracle. In Mark’s gospel, for instance, we hear of a visit Jesus made to Nazareth – his own home town – where ‘he could work no miracle … he was amazed at their lack of faith’ (Mark 6:5). Just imagine that for a moment … such was their lack of faith that could actually work no miracle!
But, going back to the official in this passage, we are told that “The man believed Jesus’ words and went”.
One of the difficult things about faith, especially in our current world which demands answers and explanations, is that we are required to believe in things unseen. Actually, it was much the same in Jesus’ day: in Matthew 16:4 we hear that Jesus castigates the Pharisees and Sadducees who have asked for a sign, “It is an evil and unfaithful generation that asks for a sign!” The official’s request for a miracle was witnessed by an entire crowd but the actual fulfilment of this miracle was hidden from them all: it was witnessed only by the servants, a whole day’s journey away.
This is therefore an account which should challenge our attitude to Jesus and his power. The whole Gospel is calling us to have faith in things unseen. We are living here and now in the 21st century and the faith that is being asked of us is no more than what was asked of the man in this story. He knew of Jesus and he met him. So far, that is no different for us, for we know of him through the Bible and we meet him in so many ways but, primarily, of course, in the Eucharist. But, do we believe? Do we have faith?
We need to ask ourselves, to what extend do I know that Jesus is powerful? To what extend do I know that Jesus can work miracles in my life? Do I approach him, as the man in this story approached him, with faith in what he can do for us?
The faith of the official is the sort of faith which is required of us if the full potential of God’s healing hand over our lives is to be completely realised. And this passage, above all, serves to remind us of the omnipotence of Jesus: His power cannot be confined in any way or by anything whatsoever. It is not confined by location or time, it transcends all and is absolute.
This should be a great encouragement for us to have faith in Jesus' power over not only our own lives but the lives of those for whom we pray. It may be that those for whom we pray are at a distance from us, either physically or spiritually.
Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you. For the one who asks always receives; the one who searches always finds; the one who knocks will always have the door opened to him. Matt 7:7.
A government official, anxious that Jesus should follow him straight away to Capernaum where his son lay dying, approaches Jesus knowing that Jesus alone can bring the healing that he is seeking. He wants him to come and lay his hands on his son because he knows that this is how Jesus has brought healing to others. Jesus, in what may have been a slightly exasperated tone and probably a little fed up that people refuse to believe in him unless they can see tangible proof of his miracles exclaims, not perhaps so much to the official but to the crowd, "None of you will ever believe unless you see miracles and wonders!"
Jesus then turns to the official and tells him: “Your son will live". The official can do nothing but accept these words in faith, as he is a full day's journey from home. He must have faith in a miracle unseen. It isn't until the next day, as he arrives home, that he discovers that his prayer has been answered - his servants confirm that the healing took place at the exact hour that he was having his conversation with Jesus the previous day.
I often think about his journey home … did he walk that full day’s journey firm in the belief that his son was cured? … did he secretly harbour niggling doubts that his son might still be unwell? Was he astonished by the news that his servants brought to him, or did he greet the news without a flicker of surprise? Despite the fact that I like to think that he was completely normal and therefore did have small doubts, I suspect that in reality his faith in this unseen miracle and on this occasion was rock solid. Faith in Jesus’ power over our lives and in our prayer life is so important: indeed, in so many places in the Gospels Jesus reminds us of the necessity of faith in order to bring about the miracle. In Mark’s gospel, for instance, we hear of a visit Jesus made to Nazareth – his own home town – where ‘he could work no miracle … he was amazed at their lack of faith’ (Mark 6:5). Just imagine that for a moment … such was their lack of faith that could actually work no miracle!
But, going back to the official in this passage, we are told that “The man believed Jesus’ words and went”.
One of the difficult things about faith, especially in our current world which demands answers and explanations, is that we are required to believe in things unseen. Actually, it was much the same in Jesus’ day: in Matthew 16:4 we hear that Jesus castigates the Pharisees and Sadducees who have asked for a sign, “It is an evil and unfaithful generation that asks for a sign!” The official’s request for a miracle was witnessed by an entire crowd but the actual fulfilment of this miracle was hidden from them all: it was witnessed only by the servants, a whole day’s journey away.
This is therefore an account which should challenge our attitude to Jesus and his power. The whole Gospel is calling us to have faith in things unseen. We are living here and now in the 21st century and the faith that is being asked of us is no more than what was asked of the man in this story. He knew of Jesus and he met him. So far, that is no different for us, for we know of him through the Bible and we meet him in so many ways but, primarily, of course, in the Eucharist. But, do we believe? Do we have faith?
We need to ask ourselves, to what extend do I know that Jesus is powerful? To what extend do I know that Jesus can work miracles in my life? Do I approach him, as the man in this story approached him, with faith in what he can do for us?
The faith of the official is the sort of faith which is required of us if the full potential of God’s healing hand over our lives is to be completely realised. And this passage, above all, serves to remind us of the omnipotence of Jesus: His power cannot be confined in any way or by anything whatsoever. It is not confined by location or time, it transcends all and is absolute.
This should be a great encouragement for us to have faith in Jesus' power over not only our own lives but the lives of those for whom we pray. It may be that those for whom we pray are at a distance from us, either physically or spiritually.
Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you. For the one who asks always receives; the one who searches always finds; the one who knocks will always have the door opened to him. Matt 7:7.
Friday, 2 October 2009
Angel sent by God to guide me, be my light and walk beside me.
On 2nd October the Church remembers and celebrates our Guardian Angels. For many, the whole idea of angels, let alone our own personal angel, is like something out of a fairytale and not altogether believable. However, both the Old and New Testaments of the Bible are positively littered with references to angels and the Church takes up and confirms what we hear about the angels, that ‘From infancy to death human life is surrounded by their watchful care and intercession. Beside each believer stands an angel as protector and shepherd leading them to life’ (CCC 336). We therefore ignore angels at our peril!
What is the purpose of angels? Angels live in the constant presence of God and are his messengers, his workforce. Throughout the Bible we hear of how they act for God in many ways, often being the direct method by which important messages are delivered to humanity. They warn and they protect and, on God’s command, have the power to act on his behalf sometimes in quite shocking ways as revealed in the Book of Revelation.
However, for the most part, angels are given to us as helpers and intercessors. The psalmist tells us that “God will put his angels in charge of you to protect you wherever you go” (Ps 91:11). Certainly, the Israelites experienced the direct help and intercession of the angels in their flight from Egypt, for we hear that God tells Moses “Now go, lead the people to the place I spoke of, and my angel will go before you.” (Ex 32:34). And again, we are told that an angel acted very forcefully to clear the way before them, “I will send an angel before you and drive out the Canaanites, Amorites, Hittites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites” (Ex 33:2). The Israelites themselves said, “We cried out to the Lord, he heard our cry and sent an angel” (Num 20:16)
In the New Testament, one of the very first references to angels is when we hear that God sent Gabriel, one of his three Archangels (the others being Michael and Raphael), to deliver the message to Mary that she had been chosen to bear the Son of God into the world. We hear that Mary not only saw the angel but was engaged in a conversation with him about what was being asked of her, and that she posed questions to him to which he had to respond on God’s behalf (Luke 1:11). Very soon after that we hear that, twice, an angel visited Joseph in a dream. In the first instance it was to encourage the very discouraged and disappointed Joseph not to be afraid to take Mary as his wife (Matt 1:20) and, secondly, to warn him to flee from Bethlehem to Egypt as Mary and Jesus were in mortal danger from the threats of Herod to destroy all young baby boys in the area under a certain age: “Get up, take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him” (Matt 2:13)
Later, we see the adult Jesus alone in the desert being tempted by the devil, though being assisted and strengthened by the angels (Mark 1:13). In John we hear Jesus positively affirming to Nathanial that he will one day see, with his very own eyes, angels ascending and descending, “I tell you the truth, you shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending” (John 1:51)
In the Acts of the Apostles, written to describe the lives and work of Jesus’ followers after his death, we hear exhilarating stories of how, twice, angels led the apostles miraculously out of prison (through many locked doors) and to their freedom (Acts 5:19); we hear that Cornelius and his family are called to Christianity by the appearance of an angel who comes to them in their house (Acts 10:1); we hear of an angel confirming to Paul that, although he and his travelling companions are about to be shipwrecked, none of them will lose their lives (Acts 27:23). Indeed, it is Paul who points out in his letter to the Hebrews that “The messages given to our ancestors by the angels was shown to be true” (Heb 2:2)
Right at the end of the New Testament, when John is relating the visions he has had about the end of all things, he talks of very powerful angels who are more than just messengers, but actively empowered by God to undertake the processes of reward and destruction:
“After this, I saw four angels standing at the four corners of the earth, holding back the four winds of the earth to prevent any wind from blowing on the land or on the sea or any tree” … “Then I saw another angel coming up from the east, having the seal of the living God. He called out in a loud voice to the four angels who had been given power to harm the land and the sea.” (Rev 7:1-3) “All the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures. They fell down on their faces before the throne and worshiped God” (Rev 7:10). “After this I saw another angel coming down from heaven. He had great authority, and the earth was illuminated by his splendour (Rev 18:1-3). Finally, John tells us that “the angel said to me, ‘These words are trustworthy and true. The Lord, the God of the spirits and of the prophets, sent his angel to show his servants the things that must take place’” (Rev 22:6)
We should be in no doubt whatsoever as to the reality of angels. Neither should we have any doubt that they act directly on God’s orders and behalf and that they do so for the benefit of humanity.
Included in these tremendous ranks of angels (and there are very specific rankings!) there are a number of references in the Bible to the fact that God has assigned a special and personal angel to protect us as we move through life: “I am sending an angel ahead of you. The angel will protect you as you travel and will bring you to the place I have made ready. My angel will always be with you.” (Exodus 23:20-23).
Bless the Lord, all you angels, mighty in strength and attentive, obedient to every command (Psalm 103:20)
What is the purpose of angels? Angels live in the constant presence of God and are his messengers, his workforce. Throughout the Bible we hear of how they act for God in many ways, often being the direct method by which important messages are delivered to humanity. They warn and they protect and, on God’s command, have the power to act on his behalf sometimes in quite shocking ways as revealed in the Book of Revelation.
However, for the most part, angels are given to us as helpers and intercessors. The psalmist tells us that “God will put his angels in charge of you to protect you wherever you go” (Ps 91:11). Certainly, the Israelites experienced the direct help and intercession of the angels in their flight from Egypt, for we hear that God tells Moses “Now go, lead the people to the place I spoke of, and my angel will go before you.” (Ex 32:34). And again, we are told that an angel acted very forcefully to clear the way before them, “I will send an angel before you and drive out the Canaanites, Amorites, Hittites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites” (Ex 33:2). The Israelites themselves said, “We cried out to the Lord, he heard our cry and sent an angel” (Num 20:16)
In the New Testament, one of the very first references to angels is when we hear that God sent Gabriel, one of his three Archangels (the others being Michael and Raphael), to deliver the message to Mary that she had been chosen to bear the Son of God into the world. We hear that Mary not only saw the angel but was engaged in a conversation with him about what was being asked of her, and that she posed questions to him to which he had to respond on God’s behalf (Luke 1:11). Very soon after that we hear that, twice, an angel visited Joseph in a dream. In the first instance it was to encourage the very discouraged and disappointed Joseph not to be afraid to take Mary as his wife (Matt 1:20) and, secondly, to warn him to flee from Bethlehem to Egypt as Mary and Jesus were in mortal danger from the threats of Herod to destroy all young baby boys in the area under a certain age: “Get up, take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him” (Matt 2:13)
Later, we see the adult Jesus alone in the desert being tempted by the devil, though being assisted and strengthened by the angels (Mark 1:13). In John we hear Jesus positively affirming to Nathanial that he will one day see, with his very own eyes, angels ascending and descending, “I tell you the truth, you shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending” (John 1:51)
In the Acts of the Apostles, written to describe the lives and work of Jesus’ followers after his death, we hear exhilarating stories of how, twice, angels led the apostles miraculously out of prison (through many locked doors) and to their freedom (Acts 5:19); we hear that Cornelius and his family are called to Christianity by the appearance of an angel who comes to them in their house (Acts 10:1); we hear of an angel confirming to Paul that, although he and his travelling companions are about to be shipwrecked, none of them will lose their lives (Acts 27:23). Indeed, it is Paul who points out in his letter to the Hebrews that “The messages given to our ancestors by the angels was shown to be true” (Heb 2:2)
Right at the end of the New Testament, when John is relating the visions he has had about the end of all things, he talks of very powerful angels who are more than just messengers, but actively empowered by God to undertake the processes of reward and destruction:
“After this, I saw four angels standing at the four corners of the earth, holding back the four winds of the earth to prevent any wind from blowing on the land or on the sea or any tree” … “Then I saw another angel coming up from the east, having the seal of the living God. He called out in a loud voice to the four angels who had been given power to harm the land and the sea.” (Rev 7:1-3) “All the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures. They fell down on their faces before the throne and worshiped God” (Rev 7:10). “After this I saw another angel coming down from heaven. He had great authority, and the earth was illuminated by his splendour (Rev 18:1-3). Finally, John tells us that “the angel said to me, ‘These words are trustworthy and true. The Lord, the God of the spirits and of the prophets, sent his angel to show his servants the things that must take place’” (Rev 22:6)
We should be in no doubt whatsoever as to the reality of angels. Neither should we have any doubt that they act directly on God’s orders and behalf and that they do so for the benefit of humanity.
Included in these tremendous ranks of angels (and there are very specific rankings!) there are a number of references in the Bible to the fact that God has assigned a special and personal angel to protect us as we move through life: “I am sending an angel ahead of you. The angel will protect you as you travel and will bring you to the place I have made ready. My angel will always be with you.” (Exodus 23:20-23).
Bless the Lord, all you angels, mighty in strength and attentive, obedient to every command (Psalm 103:20)
Monday, 14 September 2009
God is with us
If someone had told me, this time last year, that come September 2009 my mother would no longer be with us, it would have seemed completed unbelievable, quite simply not possible. The death of people close to us is something of which we are all naturally frightened. We are frightened of what the world will be like without them, we are frightened of the process of death and grief and we are frightened of how we will (or will not) cope with all of these things.
From the moment I picked up an e-mail from my mother last December announcing that she had somewhere between nine months and a year to live, whilst obviously shocked and upset, I nevertheless had an overwhelming sense that God was with us and that God’s hand was all over the situation. There was a strange sense of calm and a renewed urgency to try to rejoice in God and in his way of doing things. I urged everyone in the family to never forget to give thanks to God for all things for, convinced that by so doing, we could be sure that God would take care of everything.
However, there remained the agonising process of watching a loved one die a painful death. One could have been forgiven for asking, how could God possible have a hand in such a profoundly sad and painful situation as a death sentence? … a sentence of wall-to-wall suffering for my mother for a full nine months as it turned out? We could have been forgiven for railing at God, for demanding of him, “how could you? How could you even think of such a dreadful end for such a faithful servant of yours?” (and she had been remarkably faithful for all her life).
That would have been the obvious and very human reaction to such a catastrophic diagnosis, until mum herself reminded us of the words from Job, words with stayed with her throughout her illness: “If we accept joy from God’s hands must we not also accept suffering?” (Job 2:10)
We only have to look at the life of Jesus to know that the authentic Christian journey is likely to include suffering, for God did not spare his only Son from the horrors of the events of Good Friday. God does not shield us from suffering, but I have no doubt that, with faith, he gives us his grace in order to bear it. St Francis de Sales says:
“Do not look forward to the changes and chances of this life in fear. God, to whom you belong, will lead you safely through all things; and when you cannot stand he will bear you safely in his arms. Do not look forward to what may happen tomorrow. The same everlasting Father who cares for you today will take care of you tomorrow and every day. Either he will shield you from suffering or he will give you unfailing strength to bear it. Be at peace, then, and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginings.”
At any time of our life we are asked to hand ourselves over to God, to give up our lives to him and for him and for his work. This may sometimes feel like being asked too much, like being drawn into a desert into which we would rather not go. But, it is worth remembering that it is in the desert that God works his greatest wonders, and it was in the desert of watching my mother suffer and eventually die, and in the desert of grief at her passing that we all felt the wonder of God’s comfort provided to us by the loving prayers of all those who were praying for us. Now, if the loving attentions of mere mortals are a powerful comfort and consolation, how much more so God’s? God was with us, his loving hand upon our family in a way which words could probably not describe, and it brought to mind this beautiful psalm ….
O Lord, you search me and you know me,
you know my resting and my rising,
you discern my purpose from afar.
You mark when I walk or lie down,
all my ways lie open to you.
Before ever a word is on my tongue,
you know it, O Lord, through and through.
Behind and before me you stand,
your hand ever laid upon me.
O where can I go from your spirit,
or where can I flee from your face?
If I climb the heavens, you are there,
If I lie in the grave, you are there.
If I take the wings of dawn
and dwell at the sea’s furthest end,
even there your hand would lead me,
your right hand would hold me fast.
For it was you who created my being,
knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I thank you for the wonder of my being,
for the wonders of all your creation.
Already you knew my soul,
my body held no secret from you
when I was being fashioned in secret
and moulded in the depths of the earth.
(Psalm 138/139)
On the day she left us, and looking for comfort from God’s Word, I looked at what the Mass readings were for that day, and there, set out before me, was yet more proof that God was with us and providing us with all that we so desperately needed, for this was what he put before us on that most painful of days:
The souls of the virtuous are in the hands of God, no torment shall ever touch them. In the eyes of the unwise, they did appear to die, their going looked like a disaster, their leaving us, like annihilation; but they are at peace. God has put them to the test and proved them worthy to be with him; he has tested them like gold in a furnace, and accepted them as a holocaust. They who trust in him will understand the truth, those who are faithful will live with him in love. (Wisdom 3:1-9)
From the moment I picked up an e-mail from my mother last December announcing that she had somewhere between nine months and a year to live, whilst obviously shocked and upset, I nevertheless had an overwhelming sense that God was with us and that God’s hand was all over the situation. There was a strange sense of calm and a renewed urgency to try to rejoice in God and in his way of doing things. I urged everyone in the family to never forget to give thanks to God for all things for, convinced that by so doing, we could be sure that God would take care of everything.
However, there remained the agonising process of watching a loved one die a painful death. One could have been forgiven for asking, how could God possible have a hand in such a profoundly sad and painful situation as a death sentence? … a sentence of wall-to-wall suffering for my mother for a full nine months as it turned out? We could have been forgiven for railing at God, for demanding of him, “how could you? How could you even think of such a dreadful end for such a faithful servant of yours?” (and she had been remarkably faithful for all her life).
That would have been the obvious and very human reaction to such a catastrophic diagnosis, until mum herself reminded us of the words from Job, words with stayed with her throughout her illness: “If we accept joy from God’s hands must we not also accept suffering?” (Job 2:10)
We only have to look at the life of Jesus to know that the authentic Christian journey is likely to include suffering, for God did not spare his only Son from the horrors of the events of Good Friday. God does not shield us from suffering, but I have no doubt that, with faith, he gives us his grace in order to bear it. St Francis de Sales says:
“Do not look forward to the changes and chances of this life in fear. God, to whom you belong, will lead you safely through all things; and when you cannot stand he will bear you safely in his arms. Do not look forward to what may happen tomorrow. The same everlasting Father who cares for you today will take care of you tomorrow and every day. Either he will shield you from suffering or he will give you unfailing strength to bear it. Be at peace, then, and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginings.”
At any time of our life we are asked to hand ourselves over to God, to give up our lives to him and for him and for his work. This may sometimes feel like being asked too much, like being drawn into a desert into which we would rather not go. But, it is worth remembering that it is in the desert that God works his greatest wonders, and it was in the desert of watching my mother suffer and eventually die, and in the desert of grief at her passing that we all felt the wonder of God’s comfort provided to us by the loving prayers of all those who were praying for us. Now, if the loving attentions of mere mortals are a powerful comfort and consolation, how much more so God’s? God was with us, his loving hand upon our family in a way which words could probably not describe, and it brought to mind this beautiful psalm ….
O Lord, you search me and you know me,
you know my resting and my rising,
you discern my purpose from afar.
You mark when I walk or lie down,
all my ways lie open to you.
Before ever a word is on my tongue,
you know it, O Lord, through and through.
Behind and before me you stand,
your hand ever laid upon me.
O where can I go from your spirit,
or where can I flee from your face?
If I climb the heavens, you are there,
If I lie in the grave, you are there.
If I take the wings of dawn
and dwell at the sea’s furthest end,
even there your hand would lead me,
your right hand would hold me fast.
For it was you who created my being,
knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I thank you for the wonder of my being,
for the wonders of all your creation.
Already you knew my soul,
my body held no secret from you
when I was being fashioned in secret
and moulded in the depths of the earth.
(Psalm 138/139)
On the day she left us, and looking for comfort from God’s Word, I looked at what the Mass readings were for that day, and there, set out before me, was yet more proof that God was with us and providing us with all that we so desperately needed, for this was what he put before us on that most painful of days:
The souls of the virtuous are in the hands of God, no torment shall ever touch them. In the eyes of the unwise, they did appear to die, their going looked like a disaster, their leaving us, like annihilation; but they are at peace. God has put them to the test and proved them worthy to be with him; he has tested them like gold in a furnace, and accepted them as a holocaust. They who trust in him will understand the truth, those who are faithful will live with him in love. (Wisdom 3:1-9)
Monday, 7 September 2009
Exposition ... what is it?
At the very heart of the Catholic faith is the Eucharist, otherwise known as Holy Communion or the Blessed Sacrament. We believe that when we are in the presence of the Eucharist, we are in the absolute and true presence of Jesus Christ.
The New Testament is jam packed with stories of how Jesus moved amongst the people, touching and healing them. Knowing that he was about to die, he was anxious to put in place a means by which he could continue to visit his people, to be among them, to do for humanity what he was able to do whilst he walked the earth.
On the evening before his arrest, he gathered his very close friends together around him and invited them to eat with him. They were all seated around the table when …. “he took some bread, and when he had said the blessing he broke it and gave it to them. ‘Take it’ he said, ‘this is my body which will be given up for you; do this in memory of me.’ Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, and all drank form it and he said to them, ‘this is my blood, the blood of the covenant, which is to be poured out for many’. (Matthew 26:26 / Mark 14:22 / Luke 22:19)
Catholics believe that in the Mass we are carrying out Jesus’ instruction to ‘do this in memory of me’. The bread and wine which are brought to the altar as just that - plain bread and wine - become through the miracle and holy re-enactment of the Last Supper the true Body and Blood of Jesus and therefore his very presence. Jesus did not say that the bread and wine would be a symbol or some vague representation of him: he said quite unequivocally “This IS my body.... this IS my blood”.
This was his parting gift to the world: the opportunity to meet with him over and over and over again in the Mass.
At our school Mass at the start of the school year the priest will consecrate more bread/hosts than is necessary for the immediate Mass. This is in order to enable us to keep a reserve of the consecrated hosts in our school tabernacle for two primary reasons: firstly and most importantly, to ensure the presence of Jesus in our school throughout the school year and, secondly, to enable me, the school chaplain, to lead our school Thursday liturgy for parents (Parents’ Prayers) during which parents have the opportunity to receive Holy Communion.
Added to that, we keep the Lord in our chapel tabernacle for the purpose of Exposition.
Exposition is when one of the large consecrated hosts is brought out of the tabernacle and made visible on the altar using a ‘monstrance’, from the Latin ‘monstrare’ (also the French ‘montrer’, ‘to show’).
The monstrance is put onto the altar, accompanied by a lit candle and also, ideally, incense. The candle and incense symbolise the true presence of Christ/God and remind us that when we come into the chapel during Exposition we are absolutely in the presence of the person of Jesus Christ, who comes amongst his people still.
What does one do at Exposition?
Nothing is required of whoever comes into the chapel for Exposition other than to sit in the presence of Jesus for whatever length of time they wish. There is no set liturgy and there are no words. There is nothing except you, Jesus and silence.
Exposition presents us with a wonderful opportunity to be with Jesus. If you were given the opportunity to come face to face with him who holds the world in the palm of his hand and who has supreme power over your life, what would you want to say to him? What would you want to ask of him? My imagination runs riot at the very thought: there is so much I want to say to him, so much that I want his help with, so many people I want him to come to in a special way … where shall I stop?
What would Jesus say to me? Perhaps he would say, “I love you so much that I don’t want you to go through life without me. I want to be with you in all your troubles and difficulties. There is so much I can do for you and give to you when you come to me. There is much that I can do for your loved ones when you intercede for them through this special time in my presence. I am giving myself to you so that you may be empowered to be the person I want you to be, a good and truthful person, someone of courage and faith, love and kindness, a person of humility and joy, a person who wants to become like me…."
We all know how wonderful it is to be with someone who loves us. We feel supported, protected, encouraged and affirmed. We learn to be tolerant and patient, understanding and gentle. We become grateful for our loved one and for all who love us. Of all the virtues, love is the most powerful and the most healing, and in the sacrament of Holy Communion, Jesus is giving us an expression of his love. Jesus wants us to feel this love. He wants to be with us and through that being together he wants us to be empowered to live the life he wants us to live, to become more like him and transformed by him.
When people have lived together for some time, it is interesting to see how they gradually become very similar in nature and character. They share the same likes and dislikes, the same sense of humour and ways of doing things. Our relationship with Jesus is no different: the longer we spend in his company and the more often we come to be with him, particularly in Holy Communion, the more we will become like him.
In coming into the presence of Jesus we are being empowered to grow in love, faith, trustfulness, humility, self-control, patience, goodness, joy and kindness. Perhaps God is calling you, personally, to carry out some special task which is only yours to do?
In Exposition Jesus comes to us not with a mighty trumpet blast or glorious alleluias, but as he came into the world in the first place, quietly and humbly. He comes in the form of a humble wafer of bread. His great hope is that, in return, we will bring ourselves, humbly, into his presence. Exposition is a celebration that, despite Jesus' walking this earth 2,000 years ago, despite his death and despite his leaving for heaven, He is still with us.
The New Testament is jam packed with stories of how Jesus moved amongst the people, touching and healing them. Knowing that he was about to die, he was anxious to put in place a means by which he could continue to visit his people, to be among them, to do for humanity what he was able to do whilst he walked the earth.
On the evening before his arrest, he gathered his very close friends together around him and invited them to eat with him. They were all seated around the table when …. “he took some bread, and when he had said the blessing he broke it and gave it to them. ‘Take it’ he said, ‘this is my body which will be given up for you; do this in memory of me.’ Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, and all drank form it and he said to them, ‘this is my blood, the blood of the covenant, which is to be poured out for many’. (Matthew 26:26 / Mark 14:22 / Luke 22:19)
Catholics believe that in the Mass we are carrying out Jesus’ instruction to ‘do this in memory of me’. The bread and wine which are brought to the altar as just that - plain bread and wine - become through the miracle and holy re-enactment of the Last Supper the true Body and Blood of Jesus and therefore his very presence. Jesus did not say that the bread and wine would be a symbol or some vague representation of him: he said quite unequivocally “This IS my body.... this IS my blood”.
This was his parting gift to the world: the opportunity to meet with him over and over and over again in the Mass.
At our school Mass at the start of the school year the priest will consecrate more bread/hosts than is necessary for the immediate Mass. This is in order to enable us to keep a reserve of the consecrated hosts in our school tabernacle for two primary reasons: firstly and most importantly, to ensure the presence of Jesus in our school throughout the school year and, secondly, to enable me, the school chaplain, to lead our school Thursday liturgy for parents (Parents’ Prayers) during which parents have the opportunity to receive Holy Communion.
Added to that, we keep the Lord in our chapel tabernacle for the purpose of Exposition.
Exposition is when one of the large consecrated hosts is brought out of the tabernacle and made visible on the altar using a ‘monstrance’, from the Latin ‘monstrare’ (also the French ‘montrer’, ‘to show’).
The monstrance is put onto the altar, accompanied by a lit candle and also, ideally, incense. The candle and incense symbolise the true presence of Christ/God and remind us that when we come into the chapel during Exposition we are absolutely in the presence of the person of Jesus Christ, who comes amongst his people still.
What does one do at Exposition?
Nothing is required of whoever comes into the chapel for Exposition other than to sit in the presence of Jesus for whatever length of time they wish. There is no set liturgy and there are no words. There is nothing except you, Jesus and silence.
Exposition presents us with a wonderful opportunity to be with Jesus. If you were given the opportunity to come face to face with him who holds the world in the palm of his hand and who has supreme power over your life, what would you want to say to him? What would you want to ask of him? My imagination runs riot at the very thought: there is so much I want to say to him, so much that I want his help with, so many people I want him to come to in a special way … where shall I stop?
What would Jesus say to me? Perhaps he would say, “I love you so much that I don’t want you to go through life without me. I want to be with you in all your troubles and difficulties. There is so much I can do for you and give to you when you come to me. There is much that I can do for your loved ones when you intercede for them through this special time in my presence. I am giving myself to you so that you may be empowered to be the person I want you to be, a good and truthful person, someone of courage and faith, love and kindness, a person of humility and joy, a person who wants to become like me…."
We all know how wonderful it is to be with someone who loves us. We feel supported, protected, encouraged and affirmed. We learn to be tolerant and patient, understanding and gentle. We become grateful for our loved one and for all who love us. Of all the virtues, love is the most powerful and the most healing, and in the sacrament of Holy Communion, Jesus is giving us an expression of his love. Jesus wants us to feel this love. He wants to be with us and through that being together he wants us to be empowered to live the life he wants us to live, to become more like him and transformed by him.
When people have lived together for some time, it is interesting to see how they gradually become very similar in nature and character. They share the same likes and dislikes, the same sense of humour and ways of doing things. Our relationship with Jesus is no different: the longer we spend in his company and the more often we come to be with him, particularly in Holy Communion, the more we will become like him.
In coming into the presence of Jesus we are being empowered to grow in love, faith, trustfulness, humility, self-control, patience, goodness, joy and kindness. Perhaps God is calling you, personally, to carry out some special task which is only yours to do?
In Exposition Jesus comes to us not with a mighty trumpet blast or glorious alleluias, but as he came into the world in the first place, quietly and humbly. He comes in the form of a humble wafer of bread. His great hope is that, in return, we will bring ourselves, humbly, into his presence. Exposition is a celebration that, despite Jesus' walking this earth 2,000 years ago, despite his death and despite his leaving for heaven, He is still with us.
Follow me!
On September 21st we celebrate the Feast of St Matthew, one of the original twelve apostles.
We first meet Matthew – also known as Levi – sitting at his desk in his office (Matt 9:9, Mark 2:13, Luke 5:27). He was probably totting up the figures of the tax he had collected that day, and working out how much profit he had made through the corrupt (but common) practice amongst tax collectors of taking more than was strictly due. It was this practice which made tax collectors so reviled. Jesus, we hear, walks straight up to him and says, “Follow me”. Matthew got up and followed him.
Later on that day, Matthew laid on a great meal for Jesus, and invited those who were probably the only friends Matthew had: fellow tax collectors and, as the Bible puts it, other ‘outcasts’. The Scribes and Pharisees were scandalised when they saw what was going on and asked Jesus’ friends, “Why does He eat with such people, with tax collectors and sinners?!” Jesus heard them and answered: “It is not the healthy who need the doctor, but the sick. Go and learn the meaning of the words: what I want is mercy, not sacrifice. And indeed, I did not come to call the virtuous, but sinners”.
In order to grow in our knowledge and love of God – and others – we have to ask ourselves of any of the Gospel passages: “Where am I in this story?”
Am I Matthew? Am I able to identify with him, the less than perfect, the sinner, the one who was easy prey to temptation, the one who fell short of the Christian ideal?
Am I the Pharisee? Am I able to identify with the apparently ‘righteous’ one? Do I hold in contempt those whom I perceive to be, somehow, less good or able than I am? Am I quick to judge and condemn? Do I, like the Pharisee, care unduly about my public image in order to impress?
Jesus is not fooled by any of our outward shows of piety or outward show of anything. He knew very well that the Scribes and Pharisees – those to whom the Jewish people looked up to as leaders and role-models – were so caught up with the minutiae of the Jewish rules and regulations that they had completely lost sight of the fact that God LOVES His people, and that, at the very centre of the entirety of God’s laws is LOVE. “Go”, said Jesus, “Go and learn the meaning of the words: WHAT I WANT IS MERCY!”
This passage should be a great source of encouragement for us all: Matthew was a really very ordinary man, doing a job which had to be done, but who found it hard to stay on the straight and narrow. And yet …. and yet … Jesus made a beeline for him, actively seeking him out. Jesus looked beyond frail humanity and saw the potential for greatness. He saw Matthew’s need and met it. That day, Matthew came face to face with the perfect Truth, Justice, Mercy and Forgiveness of God, found it to be irresistible and was forever captivated by it.
We are no worse or better than Matthew: our daily lives are littered with both small and big failings: our unkind thoughts and words; our small untruths; our impatience with others; our irritability at other people’s failures or weaknesses; our lack of humility; our slowness to apologize and so on.
Jesus is hopelessly in love with humanity, warts and all. He wades into the company of sinners just as much now as He did in Matthew’s time. If Jesus were here in person today, you would find Him in the prisons talking to and befriending the inmates, and anywhere that fallen humanity in need of His help is to be found.
Jesus sought Matthew out and led him into a better life and we need to ask ourselves: “Is Jesus seeking me out?”
The easy answer to this is, “Yes … He is most certainly seeking you out.” Not a day goes by when Jesus doesn’t seek us out. Jesus follows us around all day, every day, offering us a new life lived in His footsteps. But – and it is a big ‘but’ – we have to do two positive things. We have, firstly, to be attentive to His call and, secondly, to be open to the idea of getting up and following Him.
Be attentive to His call ….
We can be attentive to His call by making a point of bringing ourselves into His presence every day. This need not, at first, be more than just being still, acknowledging God and giving thanks. This is a truly fine prayer and a good jumping off point for greater communication with God.
Get up and follow Him ….
Matthew’s complete lack of hesitation would suggest that this is not as hard as we might think. However, it is a challenge because to follow Jesus is to live a life of LOVE. That’s the bottom line: LOVE. Love at all times for all people; love not only for those who are easy to love, but love also for those we prefer to reject. To love is a great challenge, but the more we can bring ourselves into the presence of God who is Love, the more He will infect us with His love and the easier it will become. But, we have to start somewhere and, like Matthew, we can start with a simple “Yes”.
We first meet Matthew – also known as Levi – sitting at his desk in his office (Matt 9:9, Mark 2:13, Luke 5:27). He was probably totting up the figures of the tax he had collected that day, and working out how much profit he had made through the corrupt (but common) practice amongst tax collectors of taking more than was strictly due. It was this practice which made tax collectors so reviled. Jesus, we hear, walks straight up to him and says, “Follow me”. Matthew got up and followed him.
Later on that day, Matthew laid on a great meal for Jesus, and invited those who were probably the only friends Matthew had: fellow tax collectors and, as the Bible puts it, other ‘outcasts’. The Scribes and Pharisees were scandalised when they saw what was going on and asked Jesus’ friends, “Why does He eat with such people, with tax collectors and sinners?!” Jesus heard them and answered: “It is not the healthy who need the doctor, but the sick. Go and learn the meaning of the words: what I want is mercy, not sacrifice. And indeed, I did not come to call the virtuous, but sinners”.
In order to grow in our knowledge and love of God – and others – we have to ask ourselves of any of the Gospel passages: “Where am I in this story?”
Am I Matthew? Am I able to identify with him, the less than perfect, the sinner, the one who was easy prey to temptation, the one who fell short of the Christian ideal?
Am I the Pharisee? Am I able to identify with the apparently ‘righteous’ one? Do I hold in contempt those whom I perceive to be, somehow, less good or able than I am? Am I quick to judge and condemn? Do I, like the Pharisee, care unduly about my public image in order to impress?
Jesus is not fooled by any of our outward shows of piety or outward show of anything. He knew very well that the Scribes and Pharisees – those to whom the Jewish people looked up to as leaders and role-models – were so caught up with the minutiae of the Jewish rules and regulations that they had completely lost sight of the fact that God LOVES His people, and that, at the very centre of the entirety of God’s laws is LOVE. “Go”, said Jesus, “Go and learn the meaning of the words: WHAT I WANT IS MERCY!”
This passage should be a great source of encouragement for us all: Matthew was a really very ordinary man, doing a job which had to be done, but who found it hard to stay on the straight and narrow. And yet …. and yet … Jesus made a beeline for him, actively seeking him out. Jesus looked beyond frail humanity and saw the potential for greatness. He saw Matthew’s need and met it. That day, Matthew came face to face with the perfect Truth, Justice, Mercy and Forgiveness of God, found it to be irresistible and was forever captivated by it.
We are no worse or better than Matthew: our daily lives are littered with both small and big failings: our unkind thoughts and words; our small untruths; our impatience with others; our irritability at other people’s failures or weaknesses; our lack of humility; our slowness to apologize and so on.
Jesus is hopelessly in love with humanity, warts and all. He wades into the company of sinners just as much now as He did in Matthew’s time. If Jesus were here in person today, you would find Him in the prisons talking to and befriending the inmates, and anywhere that fallen humanity in need of His help is to be found.
Jesus sought Matthew out and led him into a better life and we need to ask ourselves: “Is Jesus seeking me out?”
The easy answer to this is, “Yes … He is most certainly seeking you out.” Not a day goes by when Jesus doesn’t seek us out. Jesus follows us around all day, every day, offering us a new life lived in His footsteps. But – and it is a big ‘but’ – we have to do two positive things. We have, firstly, to be attentive to His call and, secondly, to be open to the idea of getting up and following Him.
Be attentive to His call ….
We can be attentive to His call by making a point of bringing ourselves into His presence every day. This need not, at first, be more than just being still, acknowledging God and giving thanks. This is a truly fine prayer and a good jumping off point for greater communication with God.
Get up and follow Him ….
Matthew’s complete lack of hesitation would suggest that this is not as hard as we might think. However, it is a challenge because to follow Jesus is to live a life of LOVE. That’s the bottom line: LOVE. Love at all times for all people; love not only for those who are easy to love, but love also for those we prefer to reject. To love is a great challenge, but the more we can bring ourselves into the presence of God who is Love, the more He will infect us with His love and the easier it will become. But, we have to start somewhere and, like Matthew, we can start with a simple “Yes”.
Thursday, 18 June 2009
Prepare a way for me ...
In June the Church urges all its members to recall and celebrate the Birth of St John the Baptist. I guess that for many the birth and life of St John may seem very distant and not altogether relevant to our own life.
So why does the Church place such emphasis on this particular birth, life and person?
John’s birth was something of a miracle: his mother Elizabeth was well past child-bearing age (probably in her 40’s which, in Biblical terms was old) and she did not expect to ever have a baby. However, John’s father Zechariah, who was a very good man and scrupulous in his observance of God’s commandments, was told by the Angel Gabriel that his wife would become pregnant and that she would have a son whom they were to name “John”. The Angel told him that John would be filled with the Holy Spirit and would bring many back to God. Zechariah’s immediate reaction to this news was doubt and, as a punishment, he was struck dumb from that moment until it came to naming his child. The relatives assumed that the child would be named after someone in their family and were aghast that both Elizabeth and Zechariah insisted upon the name “John”, the name explicitly given to the boy by God himself. Zechariah, upon getting his speech back exclaimed: “As for you, little child, you shall be called a prophet of God the Most High, you shall go ahead of the Lord to prepare his ways before him. To make known to his people their healing, through the forgiveness of all their sins, the loving kindness of the heart of our God, who visits us like the dawn from on high. He will give light to those in darkness, those who dwell in the shadow of death, and guide us into the way of peace” Luke 1:76.
These magnificently beautiful words from a father to his new baby son indicate a profound and possibly new understanding of the nature of God and of the role that his own little boy would play in the understanding that the world in the future would have of God: a loving God who wishes for peace, reconciliation and healing for his people; a God who is prepared to send his only Son into the world in the full knowledge that only through his torturous death and subsequent resurrection the world may learn of his love for mankind.
Indeed, when the time came for John to begin his work, he burst out upon the world - as Isaiah had foretold that he would (Is 40:3) - loudly proclaiming to all people the tender love of God and the urgent need for them to REPENT, to SEEK FORGIVENESS and to LIVE A NEW LIFE IN THE POWER OF BAPTISM.
John’s message to humanity both then and now is:
Be reconciled to God and believe in his Son, Jesus Chris …
The greatest longing of the human heart must be for perfect peace, and this can only come about once we are perfectly reconciled to God through our belief in, and imitation of, Jesus. What do we have to do to achieve this? We need to take a greater responsibility for knowing about and confessing before God all those aspects of ourselves which fly in the face of the Christian ideal. People flocked to John, confessed their sins and were baptized into a new way of life. This is his call to us too: confess your sins and live a new life in the power of your Baptism, a life based upon the Gospel values put so beautifully and clearly into practice by Jesus, values of love, mercy, faith, truth, goodness, generosity, kindness, humility and forgiveness.
Take responsibility YOURSELF for preparing a path for Jesus through the world in which you find yourself, for Jesus wishes to use you to call people to himself …
We could never overestimate the value of our own role in preparing others to find and know God. If our thoughts, words and actions have their source in God and in His love, then people will come to associate our loving treatment of them with the love that God has for them. The value of your example, if it is a good and loving one, is priceless.
Don’t be afraid to speak out …
I am sure that most of us can relate to feeling a little embarrassed about talking openly about God and whatever faith we may have. Our faith and belief in God tend to remain private matters which we prefer not to express in public. However, Jesus warns us about not openly declaring for him that others may believe: “If anyone declares himself for me in the presence of men, I will declare myself for him in the presence of my Father in heaven. But the one who disowns me in the presence of men, I will disown in the presence of my Father in heaven” (Matt 10:32).
These are very strong words and ones which we need to heed, take to heart and respond to.
Curiously, the Bible tells us nothing about Jesus’ relationship with John as they were boys growing up. Indeed, it seems unlikely that they had ever met (despite being cousins) prior to Jesus suddenly arriving on the banks of the River Jordon seeking Baptism from John. Jesus, though was very clear about how he felt about John: “I tell you solemnly, of all the children born to women, a greater than John has never been seen. If anyone has ears to hear, let him listen!” (Matthew 11:11, 15). Up until that time, all the prophets had pointed to a time in the future when the Christ would appear. But here, in John, was the prophet who was able to actually point to the Christ, able to say, “Here he is!”
John was a messenger both then and now …
We may think that we are not living in the kind of wilderness that John found himself in and from which he preached. True, we are not living in a Middle Eastern desert, but we ARE living in a moral desert, a wilderness which has been brought about by society’s rejection of Christian values and beliefs, a society which proclaims the pagan gods of the paramount importance of ‘self’ and material possessions, wealth and power. John’s call is as urgent today as it was then.....
So why does the Church place such emphasis on this particular birth, life and person?
John’s birth was something of a miracle: his mother Elizabeth was well past child-bearing age (probably in her 40’s which, in Biblical terms was old) and she did not expect to ever have a baby. However, John’s father Zechariah, who was a very good man and scrupulous in his observance of God’s commandments, was told by the Angel Gabriel that his wife would become pregnant and that she would have a son whom they were to name “John”. The Angel told him that John would be filled with the Holy Spirit and would bring many back to God. Zechariah’s immediate reaction to this news was doubt and, as a punishment, he was struck dumb from that moment until it came to naming his child. The relatives assumed that the child would be named after someone in their family and were aghast that both Elizabeth and Zechariah insisted upon the name “John”, the name explicitly given to the boy by God himself. Zechariah, upon getting his speech back exclaimed: “As for you, little child, you shall be called a prophet of God the Most High, you shall go ahead of the Lord to prepare his ways before him. To make known to his people their healing, through the forgiveness of all their sins, the loving kindness of the heart of our God, who visits us like the dawn from on high. He will give light to those in darkness, those who dwell in the shadow of death, and guide us into the way of peace” Luke 1:76.
These magnificently beautiful words from a father to his new baby son indicate a profound and possibly new understanding of the nature of God and of the role that his own little boy would play in the understanding that the world in the future would have of God: a loving God who wishes for peace, reconciliation and healing for his people; a God who is prepared to send his only Son into the world in the full knowledge that only through his torturous death and subsequent resurrection the world may learn of his love for mankind.
Indeed, when the time came for John to begin his work, he burst out upon the world - as Isaiah had foretold that he would (Is 40:3) - loudly proclaiming to all people the tender love of God and the urgent need for them to REPENT, to SEEK FORGIVENESS and to LIVE A NEW LIFE IN THE POWER OF BAPTISM.
John’s message to humanity both then and now is:
Be reconciled to God and believe in his Son, Jesus Chris …
The greatest longing of the human heart must be for perfect peace, and this can only come about once we are perfectly reconciled to God through our belief in, and imitation of, Jesus. What do we have to do to achieve this? We need to take a greater responsibility for knowing about and confessing before God all those aspects of ourselves which fly in the face of the Christian ideal. People flocked to John, confessed their sins and were baptized into a new way of life. This is his call to us too: confess your sins and live a new life in the power of your Baptism, a life based upon the Gospel values put so beautifully and clearly into practice by Jesus, values of love, mercy, faith, truth, goodness, generosity, kindness, humility and forgiveness.
Take responsibility YOURSELF for preparing a path for Jesus through the world in which you find yourself, for Jesus wishes to use you to call people to himself …
We could never overestimate the value of our own role in preparing others to find and know God. If our thoughts, words and actions have their source in God and in His love, then people will come to associate our loving treatment of them with the love that God has for them. The value of your example, if it is a good and loving one, is priceless.
Don’t be afraid to speak out …
I am sure that most of us can relate to feeling a little embarrassed about talking openly about God and whatever faith we may have. Our faith and belief in God tend to remain private matters which we prefer not to express in public. However, Jesus warns us about not openly declaring for him that others may believe: “If anyone declares himself for me in the presence of men, I will declare myself for him in the presence of my Father in heaven. But the one who disowns me in the presence of men, I will disown in the presence of my Father in heaven” (Matt 10:32).
These are very strong words and ones which we need to heed, take to heart and respond to.
Curiously, the Bible tells us nothing about Jesus’ relationship with John as they were boys growing up. Indeed, it seems unlikely that they had ever met (despite being cousins) prior to Jesus suddenly arriving on the banks of the River Jordon seeking Baptism from John. Jesus, though was very clear about how he felt about John: “I tell you solemnly, of all the children born to women, a greater than John has never been seen. If anyone has ears to hear, let him listen!” (Matthew 11:11, 15). Up until that time, all the prophets had pointed to a time in the future when the Christ would appear. But here, in John, was the prophet who was able to actually point to the Christ, able to say, “Here he is!”
John was a messenger both then and now …
We may think that we are not living in the kind of wilderness that John found himself in and from which he preached. True, we are not living in a Middle Eastern desert, but we ARE living in a moral desert, a wilderness which has been brought about by society’s rejection of Christian values and beliefs, a society which proclaims the pagan gods of the paramount importance of ‘self’ and material possessions, wealth and power. John’s call is as urgent today as it was then.....
- Turn away from sin (Matt 3:2)
- Share what you have with those who have nothing (Luke 3:11)
- Practice truth and honesty (Luke 3:14)
- Treat others well and be content with what God has given to you (Luke 3:14)
- ABOVE ALL, believe in Jesus who was born of Mary, who died and who rose again that we might follow him through death and into life. Jesus who came before and who will come again at a time and moment we do not expect.
John the Baptist led a deeply ascetic life which is why he is the patron saint of monks. His Feast Day is June 24th.
Wednesday, 3 June 2009
Why did you doubt?
Then Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side of the lake, while he sent the people away. After sending the people away, he went up a hill by himself to pray. When evening came, Jesus was there alone; and by this time the boat was far out in the lake, tossed about by the waves, because the wind was blowing against it. Between three and six o’clock in the morning Jesus came to the disciples, walking on the water. When they saw him walking on the water, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost!” they said, and screamed with fear. Jesus spoke to them at once. “Courage!” he said. “It is I. Don’t be afraid!” Then Peter spoke up. “Lord, if it is really you, order me to come out on the water to you.” “Come!” answered Jesus. So Peter got out of the boat and started walking on the water to Jesus. But when he noticed the strong wind, he was afraid and started to sink down in the water. “Save me, Lord!” he cried. At once Jesus reached out and grabbed hold of him and said, “How little faith you have! Why did you doubt?” They both got into the boat and the wind died down. Matthew 14:22-32
Here we have one of those stories which we have heard so many times that we are in danger of it ceasing to have the sort of impact on us that it really should have. For this story encapsulates the sort of faith to which Jesus is calling us all the time – not just for one or two glorious moments of our lives, but all the time. It is the sort of faith which works miracles, both small and big. This story tells us everything we need to know about how Jesus works – or would like to work! – in our lives.
So, let’s watch this scene in our imaginations. Let us see the disciples clambering into their boat and setting off across the lake and, as it turns out, into troubled water. They have left Jesus behind and are batting against a very strong headwind. They are in absolutely no danger – the waves aren’t overwhelming – but it is extremely heavy and hard-going.
All of a sudden they are aware of the person of Jesus walking near to them on the water. To their secular and mortal minds, this is something which is impossible. To their logic, they must be looking at a ghost for there is no other reasonable explanation. In their alarm, they scream out in fear, and who can blame them for that? Jesus knows that they are frightened by what is going on and, probably feeling a little sorry for them, calls out to them that it really is him and not to be afraid.
It is Peter, so impetuous but always quick to recognise the truth when it is presented to him (wasn’t he the first to declare who Jesus really was? Matt 16:16) who challenges Jesus: if it really is you, Jesus, then tell me to come to you. Well, how could Jesus resist such a direct challenge? Come on, then, Peter, come and join me. To his eternal credit, Peter steps out of the boat.
Now let us just stop for a moment and imagine this scenario. Take yourself in your imagination to that boat. Imagine …
… the dark night
… the strong wind
… the rocking boat
… the inky black rolling waves
Would you step out into that? I doubt that many would! But here we have Peter, recognising the Lord and determined to respond to his call to ‘come’ and join him. We see him actually stepping out of the boat and setting off across the water to be with Jesus. His belief and faith in Jesus, and in divine power to overcome the apparently impossible is, at this point, total. We know that to be true for we hear that he set off, walking across the water. For a few glorious moments, he is living the divine life as Jesus is calling him to live it. The divine power of God, present in each of his followers, has overcome the physical world and the laws of physics, and Peter – a mere mortal – is walking on water.
But what happens next? Peter is suddenly reminded by the wind of his flawed humanity and of his mortality. There must have been a sudden gust of wind which caused him to lose confidence, to lose faith in Jesus and in his power to overcome, and he begins to sink into the waves. Jesus, knowing how deeply flawed his beloved friends and disciples are, reaches out and lifts him up.
This is a fantastic passage with which we have to engage more fully than as mere on-lookers. We need to try and enter into it in order to see how Jesus works for and with us every single day of our lives. Let us put ourselves into that boat …
We are sent ahead of Jesus …
Jesus sends his friends ahead of him, and this is exactly what is demanded of anyone who calls him or herself a Christian in any age: we are asked to go out into the world in which we live, work and move to proclaim the person of Jesus by the way we live. When Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist, gazes at his beautiful new baby son, whom he knows has been given the task of proclaiming Jesus, he says: “As for you, little child, you shall be called a prophet of God, the Most High. You shall go ahead of the Lord to prepare his ways before him.” We are called to do no less: to bring people to the Lord by the way we live. However, we know how hard this can be on two counts. Firstly, it is hard to live permanently at one with God and his will, for we are so flawed and are always failing. Secondly, it is hard because we live in a very secular world in which the message of Jesus is not always welcomed.
Therefore, our journey is never going to be straight forward and there will be times when, like the disciples struggling in their boat against a strong headwind and rough seas, we will feel exhausted.
Where is the Lord when I need him?
In all our troubles and challenges, it is easy to feel that we are on our own, for direct experiences of the presence of Jesus can seem, in our ordinary day-to-day secular lives, to be few and far between. But this passage points us to the reality of Jesus present now. Just as he walked into the difficult situation in which his friends in the boat had found themselves, he walks quietly and calmly into our difficult moments and, quite simply, demands faith. Don’t be frightened … I am with you … come! … you can do it … have courage … have faith …
Faith! What a hard thing that is when one is sincerely frightened. In this passage we get a glimpse of what ‘faith’ means as far as Jesus is concerned. It means confidence, trust, reliance, assurance, conviction and belief. We also, thankfully, get a glimpse of what happens when humanity is able to put its trust in the Lord: a miracle of mammoth proportions.
What if I can’t quite live up to Peter’s faith?
This passage is crying out to us to at least try to live up to the sort of faith displayed by Peter. We are called out to seek Jesus at all times and to have faith in him to carry out his work on this earth through us, and sometimes that will require faith to overcome apparently impossible obstacles. We are urged to have such faith. I love to imagine the possibilities and potential of having such faith: all the things it should be possible for us to do in the name of Him who calls us.
But then, like Peter, how easily we are reminded of our flawed humanity and we are held back from our full potential. However, we should take heart, for we are reminded of Jesus’ unfailing love for flawed humanity when we hear that he reaches out in the deepest possible love and compassion to the sinking Peter and lifts him up. That act of ‘lifting up’ can take all forms in our lives – we can be lifted up in so many ways. How often we are lifted up by those moments of prayer when Jesus talks to us and encourages us in our own particular journey. How often we are lifted up by those around us who are kind to us and affirm us. We are lifted up by the wonder of creation around us – and that includes the cold wind and the rain – for we are reminded of the eternal Creator God for whom nothing is impossible and who calls us to a closer union with him in order that his glory may be made known to the world. May Peter pray for us that, like him, we can step out of our boat and find the sort of faith which will set us free.
Here we have one of those stories which we have heard so many times that we are in danger of it ceasing to have the sort of impact on us that it really should have. For this story encapsulates the sort of faith to which Jesus is calling us all the time – not just for one or two glorious moments of our lives, but all the time. It is the sort of faith which works miracles, both small and big. This story tells us everything we need to know about how Jesus works – or would like to work! – in our lives.
So, let’s watch this scene in our imaginations. Let us see the disciples clambering into their boat and setting off across the lake and, as it turns out, into troubled water. They have left Jesus behind and are batting against a very strong headwind. They are in absolutely no danger – the waves aren’t overwhelming – but it is extremely heavy and hard-going.
All of a sudden they are aware of the person of Jesus walking near to them on the water. To their secular and mortal minds, this is something which is impossible. To their logic, they must be looking at a ghost for there is no other reasonable explanation. In their alarm, they scream out in fear, and who can blame them for that? Jesus knows that they are frightened by what is going on and, probably feeling a little sorry for them, calls out to them that it really is him and not to be afraid.
It is Peter, so impetuous but always quick to recognise the truth when it is presented to him (wasn’t he the first to declare who Jesus really was? Matt 16:16) who challenges Jesus: if it really is you, Jesus, then tell me to come to you. Well, how could Jesus resist such a direct challenge? Come on, then, Peter, come and join me. To his eternal credit, Peter steps out of the boat.
Now let us just stop for a moment and imagine this scenario. Take yourself in your imagination to that boat. Imagine …
… the dark night
… the strong wind
… the rocking boat
… the inky black rolling waves
Would you step out into that? I doubt that many would! But here we have Peter, recognising the Lord and determined to respond to his call to ‘come’ and join him. We see him actually stepping out of the boat and setting off across the water to be with Jesus. His belief and faith in Jesus, and in divine power to overcome the apparently impossible is, at this point, total. We know that to be true for we hear that he set off, walking across the water. For a few glorious moments, he is living the divine life as Jesus is calling him to live it. The divine power of God, present in each of his followers, has overcome the physical world and the laws of physics, and Peter – a mere mortal – is walking on water.
But what happens next? Peter is suddenly reminded by the wind of his flawed humanity and of his mortality. There must have been a sudden gust of wind which caused him to lose confidence, to lose faith in Jesus and in his power to overcome, and he begins to sink into the waves. Jesus, knowing how deeply flawed his beloved friends and disciples are, reaches out and lifts him up.
This is a fantastic passage with which we have to engage more fully than as mere on-lookers. We need to try and enter into it in order to see how Jesus works for and with us every single day of our lives. Let us put ourselves into that boat …
We are sent ahead of Jesus …
Jesus sends his friends ahead of him, and this is exactly what is demanded of anyone who calls him or herself a Christian in any age: we are asked to go out into the world in which we live, work and move to proclaim the person of Jesus by the way we live. When Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist, gazes at his beautiful new baby son, whom he knows has been given the task of proclaiming Jesus, he says: “As for you, little child, you shall be called a prophet of God, the Most High. You shall go ahead of the Lord to prepare his ways before him.” We are called to do no less: to bring people to the Lord by the way we live. However, we know how hard this can be on two counts. Firstly, it is hard to live permanently at one with God and his will, for we are so flawed and are always failing. Secondly, it is hard because we live in a very secular world in which the message of Jesus is not always welcomed.
Therefore, our journey is never going to be straight forward and there will be times when, like the disciples struggling in their boat against a strong headwind and rough seas, we will feel exhausted.
Where is the Lord when I need him?
In all our troubles and challenges, it is easy to feel that we are on our own, for direct experiences of the presence of Jesus can seem, in our ordinary day-to-day secular lives, to be few and far between. But this passage points us to the reality of Jesus present now. Just as he walked into the difficult situation in which his friends in the boat had found themselves, he walks quietly and calmly into our difficult moments and, quite simply, demands faith. Don’t be frightened … I am with you … come! … you can do it … have courage … have faith …
Faith! What a hard thing that is when one is sincerely frightened. In this passage we get a glimpse of what ‘faith’ means as far as Jesus is concerned. It means confidence, trust, reliance, assurance, conviction and belief. We also, thankfully, get a glimpse of what happens when humanity is able to put its trust in the Lord: a miracle of mammoth proportions.
What if I can’t quite live up to Peter’s faith?
This passage is crying out to us to at least try to live up to the sort of faith displayed by Peter. We are called out to seek Jesus at all times and to have faith in him to carry out his work on this earth through us, and sometimes that will require faith to overcome apparently impossible obstacles. We are urged to have such faith. I love to imagine the possibilities and potential of having such faith: all the things it should be possible for us to do in the name of Him who calls us.
But then, like Peter, how easily we are reminded of our flawed humanity and we are held back from our full potential. However, we should take heart, for we are reminded of Jesus’ unfailing love for flawed humanity when we hear that he reaches out in the deepest possible love and compassion to the sinking Peter and lifts him up. That act of ‘lifting up’ can take all forms in our lives – we can be lifted up in so many ways. How often we are lifted up by those moments of prayer when Jesus talks to us and encourages us in our own particular journey. How often we are lifted up by those around us who are kind to us and affirm us. We are lifted up by the wonder of creation around us – and that includes the cold wind and the rain – for we are reminded of the eternal Creator God for whom nothing is impossible and who calls us to a closer union with him in order that his glory may be made known to the world. May Peter pray for us that, like him, we can step out of our boat and find the sort of faith which will set us free.
Saturday, 30 May 2009
What do you want me to do for you?
“As Jesus was leaving Jericho with his disciples and a large crowd, Bartimaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting at the side of the road. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout and to say, ‘Son of David, Jesus, have pity on me’. And many of them scolded him and told him to keep quiet, but he only shouted all the louder, ‘Son of David, have pity on me’. Jesus stopped and said, ‘Call him here’. So they called the blind man. ‘Courage,’ they said ‘get up; he is calling you’. So throwing off his cloak, he jumped up and went to Jesus. Then Jesus spoke, ‘what do you want me to do for you?’ ‘Rabbuni,’ the blind man said to him, ‘Master, let me see again.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Go; your faith has saved you.’ And immediately his sight returned and he followed him along the road.” (Mark 10:46-52)
This has got to be one of the most exciting and dynamic passages I have read for ages. There is so much in it for each of us, individually, that it is hard to know where to begin. As in all passages of the Gospel, we are in there somehow, and in this passage we are both the blind beggar and members of the crowd.
An opportunity!
I wonder how long Bartimaeus had been sitting by the side of the road begging. A life-time? He must have heard something of the reputation which this man Jesus was acquiring: a man who heals the sick, raises the dead and who gives sight to the blind. He hears a large crowd approaching and must have sensed something more exciting than usual going on … can Jesus of Nazareth be amongst the crowd? When someone in the crowd says that, yes, Jesus is here, he sees it as his chance for a personal encounter with him. He just has a feeling that this man, Jesus, born in the line of David, has great powers to do great things and that this is a real opportunity for him. He leaps at this opportunity and keeps calling out in order to catch his attention.
Where am I in this scene?
· I have heard of Jesus, and I know his reputation
· What is his reputation? … is it true?
· How have I responded to his reputation; do I really believe that he can do all things for me?
· Do I leap at opportunities of encountering him?
· In what ways am I passing up or disregarding opportunities?
Have pity!
Bartimaeus first calls out to him “Son of David!” – an affirmation of the importance of his birth, but not quite the affirmation of Jesus’ authority which comes later in the passage. But, his shouting is really irritating the crowd who turn on him to scold him, telling him to keep quiet. His anxiety that he was going to be shouted down by the crowd and overlooked by Jesus must have been awful: are they going to stop me approaching Jesus? Will he hear me? This is my last chance – I may never be this close to Jesus ever again. So Bartimaeus shouts all the louder … “Son of David, have pity on me!” These words have resounded down through the centuries by so many millions: have pity on me.
· Do I stand in need of Jesus’ pity?
· I do, because I am human: I am weak and easily tempted.
· I look at my past and can see that I stand in need of forgiveness.
· O Lord, hear my voice over the din of life’s distractions and …have pity on me!
Jesus calls him
Suddenly, Jesus stops in his tracks. The crowd stops. “Call him here” Jesus says and, all of a sudden, the fawning crowd whose attitude to the beggar had been so dismissive, changes. This beggar has been a wretched nuisance for years; we have been tripping and falling over him and, truth to tell, he is a bit of a pain. However, Jesus wants to see him – he has singled him out – perhaps our attitude has been wrong. We are very impressed by this man Jesus, so we had better comply with him and help the beggar to his feet and to Jesus.
Am I Bartimaeus in this scene?
· Bartimaeus beckons and Jesus responds: do I actively beckon to Jesus?
· Do I call out to him full of faith that he will hear and respond?
· I may, at times, feel lonely, but Jesus’ friends are around me and keen to help
Or, perhaps, the crowd?
· I need to be aware of those around me who are crying out for God
· How can I help?
· By being more open and sharing my faith with them?
· By praying for them?
· Who are the people I am tripping over and finding a nuisance?
· Should I be helping them?
Unhinder yourself
The beggar gets up and throws off his cloak. This is very symbolic of throwing off his old self: getting rid of unnecessary baggage which may hinder his journey towards Jesus.
· What are the obstacles in my relationship with Jesus?
· What baggage is Jesus asking me to get rid of in my journey towards him?
What do you need?
The beggar approaches Jesus and is rewarded with this exquisitely beautiful question: “What do you want me to do for you?”.
Just imagine yourself, for a moment, into this scene and that it is you – just as you are – standing in front of Jesus – such a warm and loving person, a man of healing, truth and power, and he asks you … what do you want me to do for you? This question is a deeply moving one as we think of all the things we want Jesus to do for us. I think of the many people for whom I am praying: my family, those who are sick or anxious and so very much more. Where shall I stop? The blind man must have been struggling … what shall I ask of him? Shall I ask for a job … a home? … an easier life?
His eventual and only response is … “Rabbuni!” or “Master!”, words which affirm that Jesus really is his Master and can do all things for him. In this knowledge and having affirmed, publicly who Jesus is, he then says “Please, let me see again”.
The amazing thing about Jesus’ question is that he even asks it at all – doesn’t he know everything before it is even on our tongue? Doesn’t he know everything we need? There is a purpose to his question: he intended that it should be recorded and that all who would read the Gospels in the future should come across it and be prompted to think: “What do I want Jesus to do for me?”
The blind man’s response reflects what should be not only our own deepest personal request of the Lord but, indeed, the whole of humanity: “Master, let me see!” “Let me see the wonderful ways in which you bless me every day, let me see the suffering and pain of those in need, let me see your beauty in those I prefer to dislike, let me see your glory all around me in the beauty of creation, let me see the ways in which we can work for greater justice and peace in the world, let me see myself as you see me, let me see your will for me….”
Go, your faith has saved you
In his exclamation “Master!”, Bartimaeus is filled with the knowledge of the Truth of who Jesus is: he is the Son of God. It was not his plea of “let me see again” which brought about the restoration of his sight, but his acknowledgement of who Jesus was, an acknowledgement affirmed by Jesus, “Go, your faith has saved you”.
He followed him
Bartimaeus’ encounter with Jesus achieved two things: it deepened his faith and brought about a newness of sight, a newness of sight which led to his desire to follow Jesus. This is why we must make every effort to encounter Jesus in our own lives. We need him to deepen our own faith that we, too, might be granted newness of sight and a greater desire to be a follower of Jesus.
Jesus question “What do you want me to do for you?” is at the heart of Jesus’ relationship with us: he walks with us all day long, whispering this very question into our hearts … “what do you want me to do for you?”, an invitation to allow him into every aspect and moment of our lives.
This has got to be one of the most exciting and dynamic passages I have read for ages. There is so much in it for each of us, individually, that it is hard to know where to begin. As in all passages of the Gospel, we are in there somehow, and in this passage we are both the blind beggar and members of the crowd.
An opportunity!
I wonder how long Bartimaeus had been sitting by the side of the road begging. A life-time? He must have heard something of the reputation which this man Jesus was acquiring: a man who heals the sick, raises the dead and who gives sight to the blind. He hears a large crowd approaching and must have sensed something more exciting than usual going on … can Jesus of Nazareth be amongst the crowd? When someone in the crowd says that, yes, Jesus is here, he sees it as his chance for a personal encounter with him. He just has a feeling that this man, Jesus, born in the line of David, has great powers to do great things and that this is a real opportunity for him. He leaps at this opportunity and keeps calling out in order to catch his attention.
Where am I in this scene?
· I have heard of Jesus, and I know his reputation
· What is his reputation? … is it true?
· How have I responded to his reputation; do I really believe that he can do all things for me?
· Do I leap at opportunities of encountering him?
· In what ways am I passing up or disregarding opportunities?
Have pity!
Bartimaeus first calls out to him “Son of David!” – an affirmation of the importance of his birth, but not quite the affirmation of Jesus’ authority which comes later in the passage. But, his shouting is really irritating the crowd who turn on him to scold him, telling him to keep quiet. His anxiety that he was going to be shouted down by the crowd and overlooked by Jesus must have been awful: are they going to stop me approaching Jesus? Will he hear me? This is my last chance – I may never be this close to Jesus ever again. So Bartimaeus shouts all the louder … “Son of David, have pity on me!” These words have resounded down through the centuries by so many millions: have pity on me.
· Do I stand in need of Jesus’ pity?
· I do, because I am human: I am weak and easily tempted.
· I look at my past and can see that I stand in need of forgiveness.
· O Lord, hear my voice over the din of life’s distractions and …have pity on me!
Jesus calls him
Suddenly, Jesus stops in his tracks. The crowd stops. “Call him here” Jesus says and, all of a sudden, the fawning crowd whose attitude to the beggar had been so dismissive, changes. This beggar has been a wretched nuisance for years; we have been tripping and falling over him and, truth to tell, he is a bit of a pain. However, Jesus wants to see him – he has singled him out – perhaps our attitude has been wrong. We are very impressed by this man Jesus, so we had better comply with him and help the beggar to his feet and to Jesus.
Am I Bartimaeus in this scene?
· Bartimaeus beckons and Jesus responds: do I actively beckon to Jesus?
· Do I call out to him full of faith that he will hear and respond?
· I may, at times, feel lonely, but Jesus’ friends are around me and keen to help
Or, perhaps, the crowd?
· I need to be aware of those around me who are crying out for God
· How can I help?
· By being more open and sharing my faith with them?
· By praying for them?
· Who are the people I am tripping over and finding a nuisance?
· Should I be helping them?
Unhinder yourself
The beggar gets up and throws off his cloak. This is very symbolic of throwing off his old self: getting rid of unnecessary baggage which may hinder his journey towards Jesus.
· What are the obstacles in my relationship with Jesus?
· What baggage is Jesus asking me to get rid of in my journey towards him?
What do you need?
The beggar approaches Jesus and is rewarded with this exquisitely beautiful question: “What do you want me to do for you?”.
Just imagine yourself, for a moment, into this scene and that it is you – just as you are – standing in front of Jesus – such a warm and loving person, a man of healing, truth and power, and he asks you … what do you want me to do for you? This question is a deeply moving one as we think of all the things we want Jesus to do for us. I think of the many people for whom I am praying: my family, those who are sick or anxious and so very much more. Where shall I stop? The blind man must have been struggling … what shall I ask of him? Shall I ask for a job … a home? … an easier life?
His eventual and only response is … “Rabbuni!” or “Master!”, words which affirm that Jesus really is his Master and can do all things for him. In this knowledge and having affirmed, publicly who Jesus is, he then says “Please, let me see again”.
The amazing thing about Jesus’ question is that he even asks it at all – doesn’t he know everything before it is even on our tongue? Doesn’t he know everything we need? There is a purpose to his question: he intended that it should be recorded and that all who would read the Gospels in the future should come across it and be prompted to think: “What do I want Jesus to do for me?”
The blind man’s response reflects what should be not only our own deepest personal request of the Lord but, indeed, the whole of humanity: “Master, let me see!” “Let me see the wonderful ways in which you bless me every day, let me see the suffering and pain of those in need, let me see your beauty in those I prefer to dislike, let me see your glory all around me in the beauty of creation, let me see the ways in which we can work for greater justice and peace in the world, let me see myself as you see me, let me see your will for me….”
Go, your faith has saved you
In his exclamation “Master!”, Bartimaeus is filled with the knowledge of the Truth of who Jesus is: he is the Son of God. It was not his plea of “let me see again” which brought about the restoration of his sight, but his acknowledgement of who Jesus was, an acknowledgement affirmed by Jesus, “Go, your faith has saved you”.
He followed him
Bartimaeus’ encounter with Jesus achieved two things: it deepened his faith and brought about a newness of sight, a newness of sight which led to his desire to follow Jesus. This is why we must make every effort to encounter Jesus in our own lives. We need him to deepen our own faith that we, too, might be granted newness of sight and a greater desire to be a follower of Jesus.
Jesus question “What do you want me to do for you?” is at the heart of Jesus’ relationship with us: he walks with us all day long, whispering this very question into our hearts … “what do you want me to do for you?”, an invitation to allow him into every aspect and moment of our lives.
Friday, 8 May 2009
Obliged to go to Church?!
The words ‘Holyday of Obligation’ are so familiar to Catholics that they trip off the tongue without our stopping to think: why is the Church actually obliging me to go to mass? Such is the age of personal freedom and lack of personal discipline and obedience, that the very word ‘obligation’ more often than not meets with something of a flicker of rebellion.
The tradition of going to Church every Sunday is very much based on the Ten Commandments given to Moses and stresses the importance of having one day of rest, taking that day as an opportunity to focus on priority: God, family, community, praise and worship. As God gave Moses the Ten Commandments he told him that they were the blueprint for a happy and successful society: follow these rules and all will be well.
The Church has imposed rules upon its members based on the Ten Commandments. These rules and regulations are there because God is fully aware of humanity’s natural weaknesses: he knows that without rules and regulations humanity will always be in danger of running riot, morally.
All the rules and regulations given to us have been laid down in the spirit of Love, not to constrain us but to protect us, and there are some very specific days which the Church sees as particularly important in terms of keeping humanity on track, and the Church emphasises these days in God’s name. These days are the Holydays of Obligation.
In any one Liturgical year (beginning with the first Sunday in Advent and ending with the Feast of Christ the King, just before Advent) there are no less than seven Holydays of Obligation. They are: The Epiphany, The Ascension, Corpus Christi, Saints Peter and Paul, The Assumption, All Saints and Christmas Day.
Let’s take a look at each of them, asking ourselves: Why is this important? What is it asking of me and what is it offering to me?
In The Epiphany we meet the Magi, the Three Wise Men, who have been stargazers for some time and who are now joined in their conviction that this new star will lead them to a new King. They are united in their following of the Light. Why is this important to me, here and now? It is important because the significance for us is that they were not Israelites, they were not members of God’s chosen people: they were, like us, outsiders. They therefore represent all members of the rest of humanity who search for the Christ. The kings searched and they found; they knocked and the door was opened to them; they believed in their search and were rewarded. This day is therefore asking me: am I actively following the light, i.e. searching for Jesus (i.e. love, truth, honesty, integrity, goodness, etc) in my day-to-day life? How am I searching? Do I read the gospels regularly enough? Am I neglectful of my prayer life? Do I allow myself, by my actions and words, to be a means of reflecting the Light into the world around me? But what is this Holyday offering me? Hope! It is a reminder that when Jesus opened his arms on the cross, he opened his arms to the community beyond his own, Jewish, community: I am included in God’s family, as I recognise him as my Father, he recognises me as his own and beloved child.
In the Ascension we see the Lord leaving the earth for the last time, promising us that he has to return to heaven in order that the Holy Spirit can be sent into the world. This is important to us on a number of levels. On a human level it is a reminder that in life we are bound to encounter loss: we cannot hold on to those whom we love because, ultimately, they belong to God. On a spiritual level it is a reminder that the Holy Spirit – he who is so strong, so perfect, so wise, so steadfast – is promised to us. As a direct result of the Ascension, the Spirit was poured out upon the world, and continues to be poured out into the world and into hearts who invite him and are willing to receive Him. This should cause us to ask of ourselves: do I acknowledge the gift of the Spirit in my life? Do I seek Him and His guidance out? This feast offers us the opportunity to turn to the Spirit afresh, inviting him into our lives that we may become the person that God so urgently wants us to be.
In the feast of Corpus Christi we remember that, despite Jesus leaving the world 2,000 years ago, he is still with us! All those people who flocked to him whilst he was still alive came to him and found their healing. Corpus Christi reminds us that we, too, can come to him, truly and fully present as he is in the Eucharist at Mass, to search for our own healing. It obviously challenges us to think more carefully and deeply about our attitude to Mass and to the Eucharist, and encourages us to have faith in Jesus still truly present amongst us. As I walk up the aisle at Communion time, I imagine the warm Middle Eastern dust under my feet, the hot desert sun on my face, the din of the crowd and …. Jesus, the great healer, waiting for me, to meet my need and the needs of those I carry with me. Corpus Christi is a celebration of Jesus still amongst us to heal and strengthen us. I cannot think of a more powerful, loving and intimate gift to each of us than this, the personal, gentle and healing touch of the Lord in the form of bread.
In June we remember Saints Peter and Paul. This may seem a strange choice for obliging us to go to church. But if we reflect that without these two men there would be no Church, then it is not surprising that we are asked to gather together to officially recognise their work and great personal sacrifice. This Holyday asks us to question our own attitude as to how we join in the work of the original apostles in proclaiming the Gospel. For instance, I know how uncomfortable it is possible to feel in talking about faith and being open with others about our relationship with God. But, imagine what the Church would have been like if Peter and Paul had failed to be open about their faith! The faith cannot be carried on from one generation to the next without people who are open about faith. Therefore, if we call ourselves believers and followers of Christ then we, too, are on a mission. The best way we can be open about faith is in the way we live. Indeed, one of my favourite quotes from St Francis is this: “Preach the Gospel with your whole life. If necessary, use words”. One of the most important aspects of this Holyday is that it is a good reminder that God chooses weak, unlikely and surprising characters to carry out his work. This, in itself, should fill us with encouragement and hope.
In the Feast of The Assumption we celebrate the fact that Mary was taken up into Heaven both in soul and in body. She is the forerunner of all who believe and have faith: she was the first disciple and believer who welcomed Jesus into her life and whose life was transformed by her “Yes”. We are taught that at the Final Judgement our corrupt bodies will be transformed into glorious copies of Our Lord’s and that those who have been faithful in serving the Lord in their lifetime will be rewarded by the fullest possible resurrection. What does it ask of us? It asks us to consider how fully we have given our own ‘Yes’ and whether or not we have allowed that ‘yes’ to transform our lives. It asks us to question how faithful we have been. This Holyday reminds us, of course, that as baptised children of God, we have the promise of resurrection and an eternity spent in the company of the saints and angels.
Which brings us to the Feast of All Saints. Is this a feast we can relate to? Yes, absolutely! Of course, primarily, this is a day which celebrates all those who have gone before us who have gained Heaven due to the witness of their lives. BUT, this is also a day which celebrates all Christians. St Paul regularly in his letters refers to the followers of Christ as ‘saints’. It is therefore a day when we celebrate the fact that God asks all of us to strive to know, love and serve him to the best of our ability – that is what a saint is. Regardless of our background we are all called to love God and each other. If we can do that, then the feast of All Saints is for us. Well, that raises the obvious questions, and challenges us to look at just how far we are prepared to go to know, love and serve God. Do I know God? If not, why not? How do I express my love for him? How am I serving him in my day to day life?
I’ll bet you didn’t know that Christmas Day was a Holyday of Obligation. Of course, Midnight Mass has something of a reputation anyway for dragging even the most reluctant church-goer out into the cold night air, unable to resist the annual ritual of being in church on Christmas Eve. Of all the Holydays of Obligation this is the one most likely to attract churchgoers and with good reason, though we have to be careful to divorce ourselves from the commercialisation of this Feast and to go to church to sincerely celebrate the appearance upon this earth of Him who created all things. It is a miracle, probably, too deep for humanity to completely and fully comprehend, but a miracle truly deserving of obliging Christians to gather together in a spirit of worship, praise and thanksgiving.
All of these Holydays of Obligation are invitations to do that: to praise and to give thanks. If I were to list here all the things we need to praise about God and all the things we need to thank him for, there isn’t enough paper in the world to do it, neither would there be sufficient words or time. Holydays of Obligation present us with small but important opportunities to express our thanks and to ask ourselves questions about how we are doing in our own journey towards God.
The tradition of going to Church every Sunday is very much based on the Ten Commandments given to Moses and stresses the importance of having one day of rest, taking that day as an opportunity to focus on priority: God, family, community, praise and worship. As God gave Moses the Ten Commandments he told him that they were the blueprint for a happy and successful society: follow these rules and all will be well.
The Church has imposed rules upon its members based on the Ten Commandments. These rules and regulations are there because God is fully aware of humanity’s natural weaknesses: he knows that without rules and regulations humanity will always be in danger of running riot, morally.
All the rules and regulations given to us have been laid down in the spirit of Love, not to constrain us but to protect us, and there are some very specific days which the Church sees as particularly important in terms of keeping humanity on track, and the Church emphasises these days in God’s name. These days are the Holydays of Obligation.
In any one Liturgical year (beginning with the first Sunday in Advent and ending with the Feast of Christ the King, just before Advent) there are no less than seven Holydays of Obligation. They are: The Epiphany, The Ascension, Corpus Christi, Saints Peter and Paul, The Assumption, All Saints and Christmas Day.
Let’s take a look at each of them, asking ourselves: Why is this important? What is it asking of me and what is it offering to me?
In The Epiphany we meet the Magi, the Three Wise Men, who have been stargazers for some time and who are now joined in their conviction that this new star will lead them to a new King. They are united in their following of the Light. Why is this important to me, here and now? It is important because the significance for us is that they were not Israelites, they were not members of God’s chosen people: they were, like us, outsiders. They therefore represent all members of the rest of humanity who search for the Christ. The kings searched and they found; they knocked and the door was opened to them; they believed in their search and were rewarded. This day is therefore asking me: am I actively following the light, i.e. searching for Jesus (i.e. love, truth, honesty, integrity, goodness, etc) in my day-to-day life? How am I searching? Do I read the gospels regularly enough? Am I neglectful of my prayer life? Do I allow myself, by my actions and words, to be a means of reflecting the Light into the world around me? But what is this Holyday offering me? Hope! It is a reminder that when Jesus opened his arms on the cross, he opened his arms to the community beyond his own, Jewish, community: I am included in God’s family, as I recognise him as my Father, he recognises me as his own and beloved child.
In the Ascension we see the Lord leaving the earth for the last time, promising us that he has to return to heaven in order that the Holy Spirit can be sent into the world. This is important to us on a number of levels. On a human level it is a reminder that in life we are bound to encounter loss: we cannot hold on to those whom we love because, ultimately, they belong to God. On a spiritual level it is a reminder that the Holy Spirit – he who is so strong, so perfect, so wise, so steadfast – is promised to us. As a direct result of the Ascension, the Spirit was poured out upon the world, and continues to be poured out into the world and into hearts who invite him and are willing to receive Him. This should cause us to ask of ourselves: do I acknowledge the gift of the Spirit in my life? Do I seek Him and His guidance out? This feast offers us the opportunity to turn to the Spirit afresh, inviting him into our lives that we may become the person that God so urgently wants us to be.
In the feast of Corpus Christi we remember that, despite Jesus leaving the world 2,000 years ago, he is still with us! All those people who flocked to him whilst he was still alive came to him and found their healing. Corpus Christi reminds us that we, too, can come to him, truly and fully present as he is in the Eucharist at Mass, to search for our own healing. It obviously challenges us to think more carefully and deeply about our attitude to Mass and to the Eucharist, and encourages us to have faith in Jesus still truly present amongst us. As I walk up the aisle at Communion time, I imagine the warm Middle Eastern dust under my feet, the hot desert sun on my face, the din of the crowd and …. Jesus, the great healer, waiting for me, to meet my need and the needs of those I carry with me. Corpus Christi is a celebration of Jesus still amongst us to heal and strengthen us. I cannot think of a more powerful, loving and intimate gift to each of us than this, the personal, gentle and healing touch of the Lord in the form of bread.
In June we remember Saints Peter and Paul. This may seem a strange choice for obliging us to go to church. But if we reflect that without these two men there would be no Church, then it is not surprising that we are asked to gather together to officially recognise their work and great personal sacrifice. This Holyday asks us to question our own attitude as to how we join in the work of the original apostles in proclaiming the Gospel. For instance, I know how uncomfortable it is possible to feel in talking about faith and being open with others about our relationship with God. But, imagine what the Church would have been like if Peter and Paul had failed to be open about their faith! The faith cannot be carried on from one generation to the next without people who are open about faith. Therefore, if we call ourselves believers and followers of Christ then we, too, are on a mission. The best way we can be open about faith is in the way we live. Indeed, one of my favourite quotes from St Francis is this: “Preach the Gospel with your whole life. If necessary, use words”. One of the most important aspects of this Holyday is that it is a good reminder that God chooses weak, unlikely and surprising characters to carry out his work. This, in itself, should fill us with encouragement and hope.
In the Feast of The Assumption we celebrate the fact that Mary was taken up into Heaven both in soul and in body. She is the forerunner of all who believe and have faith: she was the first disciple and believer who welcomed Jesus into her life and whose life was transformed by her “Yes”. We are taught that at the Final Judgement our corrupt bodies will be transformed into glorious copies of Our Lord’s and that those who have been faithful in serving the Lord in their lifetime will be rewarded by the fullest possible resurrection. What does it ask of us? It asks us to consider how fully we have given our own ‘Yes’ and whether or not we have allowed that ‘yes’ to transform our lives. It asks us to question how faithful we have been. This Holyday reminds us, of course, that as baptised children of God, we have the promise of resurrection and an eternity spent in the company of the saints and angels.
Which brings us to the Feast of All Saints. Is this a feast we can relate to? Yes, absolutely! Of course, primarily, this is a day which celebrates all those who have gone before us who have gained Heaven due to the witness of their lives. BUT, this is also a day which celebrates all Christians. St Paul regularly in his letters refers to the followers of Christ as ‘saints’. It is therefore a day when we celebrate the fact that God asks all of us to strive to know, love and serve him to the best of our ability – that is what a saint is. Regardless of our background we are all called to love God and each other. If we can do that, then the feast of All Saints is for us. Well, that raises the obvious questions, and challenges us to look at just how far we are prepared to go to know, love and serve God. Do I know God? If not, why not? How do I express my love for him? How am I serving him in my day to day life?
I’ll bet you didn’t know that Christmas Day was a Holyday of Obligation. Of course, Midnight Mass has something of a reputation anyway for dragging even the most reluctant church-goer out into the cold night air, unable to resist the annual ritual of being in church on Christmas Eve. Of all the Holydays of Obligation this is the one most likely to attract churchgoers and with good reason, though we have to be careful to divorce ourselves from the commercialisation of this Feast and to go to church to sincerely celebrate the appearance upon this earth of Him who created all things. It is a miracle, probably, too deep for humanity to completely and fully comprehend, but a miracle truly deserving of obliging Christians to gather together in a spirit of worship, praise and thanksgiving.
All of these Holydays of Obligation are invitations to do that: to praise and to give thanks. If I were to list here all the things we need to praise about God and all the things we need to thank him for, there isn’t enough paper in the world to do it, neither would there be sufficient words or time. Holydays of Obligation present us with small but important opportunities to express our thanks and to ask ourselves questions about how we are doing in our own journey towards God.
I want to be with you ...
In June we celebrate the Feast of Corpus Christi which, translated from Latin, means "Body of Christ". This is one of the few celebrations of the year which the Church has designated a Holyday of Obligation, which means that we are obliged to go to church. The fact that we are obliged to go to church indicates that the Church sees this celebration as one of the most important. Why?
It is one of the most important celebrations because it is a remembrance and affirmation of the most powerful of Jesus’ parting gifts to mankind: the gift of Himself. We are not talking about some vague notion of Jesus' being with us spiritually (which he is), but actually present with us.
After Jesus rose from the dead he spent 40 days with his friends whilst all the time knowing that after this period of time he would be leaving them for good. He wanted to go home to his Father and he was ready to leave. However, he also desired to remain with his friends in a deeply personal and intimate way and, indeed, with all who would ever follow him over the centuries to come,
He had already devised such a way and had given a hint of it when he ate his last meal with his friends before his arrest and death. During the course of the Last Supper he took some bread, blessed it and gave God thanks for it. He then shared it out amongst his friends saying, “Take it and eat it, this is my body”. Then he took the cup of wine, blessed it and gave it to his friends to share, saying, “Drink it, all of you, this is my blood” (Matt 26:26-28). He then gave them a very clear directive, "Do this in memory of me". Jesus was saying that whenever his friends re-enacted this scene in the future, he would make himself present, absolutely and truly, in the form of bread and wine: that the bread would become his Body and the wine his Blood.
Therefore, at every single Mass which has been celebrated all over the world since that time, Jesus is made present and we have the opportunity to be with him and to come into his presence again and again and again.
The Mass, therefore, presents us with a wonderful opportunity to be with Jesus. If you were given the opportunity to come face to face with him who holds the world in the palm of his hand and who has supreme power over your life, what would you want to say to him? What would you want to ask of him? My imagination runs riot at the very thought - there is so much I want to say to him, so much that I want his help with, so many people I want him to come to in a special way … where shall I stop?
What would Jesus say to me? Perhaps he would say, “I love you so much that I don’t want you to go through life without me. I want to be with you in all your troubles and difficulties. There is so much I can do for you and give to you when you come to me in Holy Communion. There is much that I can do for your loved ones when you intercede for them through this special time in my presence. I am giving myself to you so that you may be empowered to be the person I want you to be, a good and truthful person, someone of courage and faith, love and kindness, a person of humility and joy, a person who wants to become like me…."
We all know how wonderful it is to be with someone who loves us. We feel supported, protected, encouraged and affirmed. We learn to be tolerant and patient, understanding and gentle. We become grateful for our loved one and for all who love us. Of all the virtues, love is the most powerful and the most healing, and in the sacrament of Holy Communion, Jesus is giving us an expression of his love.
Jesus wants us to feel this love. He wants to be with us and through that being together he wants us to be empowered to live the life he wants us to live, to become more like him and transformed by him.
When people have lived together for some time, it is interesting to see how they gradually become very similar in nature and character. They share the same likes and dislikes, the same sense of humour and ways of doing things. Our relationship with Jesus is no different: the longer we spend in his company and the more often we come to be with him particularly in Holy Communion, the more we will become like him.
There is a lovely passage in a book by Sister Briege McKenna which illustrates beautifully the effect of coming into the presence of Jesus, particularly through this sacrament….
"I was just looking at the Blessed Sacrament and adoring Jesus and telling him I didn't have much to say except that I loved him. I felt as though the Lord said to me, "Well, don't you know that you don't have to say anything to me? Just be with me. Come into my presence. It's not what you do for me, it's what I want to do for you." Then I got an image of a person going out of his house and sitting in the sun. As he sat in the sun, he didn't do a thing, but he started to change colour. People who saw him knew he had been in the sun because his skin showed it. The man knew it too, because he felt the effects of the sun: the warmth and the light. I heard the Lord saying, "So it is when you come into my presence. You will experience the effects of your time spent with me. People will see it in your actions". From "Miracles do Happen" by Briege McKenna OSC (ISBN 0-86217-253-5)
It is important to remember that when Jesus comes to us in Holy Communion, he is not fragmenting himself into thousands of little pieces. Rather, he is absorbing us into himself. To the degree that he shared in our humanity, he shares his divinity with us. All who come to share in the Sacrament of Holy Communion are being absorbed into Jesus - we are becoming one body with him. That is an extraordinary thought and immediately begs the question "If God is absorbing us into Himself, what are we being empowered to do or become?"
We are being empowered to grow in love, faith, trustfulness, humility, self-control, patience, goodness, joy and kindness. Perhaps God is calling you, personally, to carry out some special task which is only yours to do?
In Holy Communion, or Corpus Christi, Jesus comes to us not with a mighty trumpet blast or glorious alleluias, but as he came into the world in the first place, humbly. He comes in the form of a humble wafer of bread and drop of wine. His great hope is that, in return, we will bring ourselves, humbly, into his presence.
Above all, Corpus Christi is a celebration that, despite Jesus' walking this earth 2,000 years ago, despite his death and despite his leaving for heaven, He is still with us. This truth is, indeed, worthy of many 'alleluias'.
It is one of the most important celebrations because it is a remembrance and affirmation of the most powerful of Jesus’ parting gifts to mankind: the gift of Himself. We are not talking about some vague notion of Jesus' being with us spiritually (which he is), but actually present with us.
After Jesus rose from the dead he spent 40 days with his friends whilst all the time knowing that after this period of time he would be leaving them for good. He wanted to go home to his Father and he was ready to leave. However, he also desired to remain with his friends in a deeply personal and intimate way and, indeed, with all who would ever follow him over the centuries to come,
He had already devised such a way and had given a hint of it when he ate his last meal with his friends before his arrest and death. During the course of the Last Supper he took some bread, blessed it and gave God thanks for it. He then shared it out amongst his friends saying, “Take it and eat it, this is my body”. Then he took the cup of wine, blessed it and gave it to his friends to share, saying, “Drink it, all of you, this is my blood” (Matt 26:26-28). He then gave them a very clear directive, "Do this in memory of me". Jesus was saying that whenever his friends re-enacted this scene in the future, he would make himself present, absolutely and truly, in the form of bread and wine: that the bread would become his Body and the wine his Blood.
Therefore, at every single Mass which has been celebrated all over the world since that time, Jesus is made present and we have the opportunity to be with him and to come into his presence again and again and again.
The Mass, therefore, presents us with a wonderful opportunity to be with Jesus. If you were given the opportunity to come face to face with him who holds the world in the palm of his hand and who has supreme power over your life, what would you want to say to him? What would you want to ask of him? My imagination runs riot at the very thought - there is so much I want to say to him, so much that I want his help with, so many people I want him to come to in a special way … where shall I stop?
What would Jesus say to me? Perhaps he would say, “I love you so much that I don’t want you to go through life without me. I want to be with you in all your troubles and difficulties. There is so much I can do for you and give to you when you come to me in Holy Communion. There is much that I can do for your loved ones when you intercede for them through this special time in my presence. I am giving myself to you so that you may be empowered to be the person I want you to be, a good and truthful person, someone of courage and faith, love and kindness, a person of humility and joy, a person who wants to become like me…."
We all know how wonderful it is to be with someone who loves us. We feel supported, protected, encouraged and affirmed. We learn to be tolerant and patient, understanding and gentle. We become grateful for our loved one and for all who love us. Of all the virtues, love is the most powerful and the most healing, and in the sacrament of Holy Communion, Jesus is giving us an expression of his love.
Jesus wants us to feel this love. He wants to be with us and through that being together he wants us to be empowered to live the life he wants us to live, to become more like him and transformed by him.
When people have lived together for some time, it is interesting to see how they gradually become very similar in nature and character. They share the same likes and dislikes, the same sense of humour and ways of doing things. Our relationship with Jesus is no different: the longer we spend in his company and the more often we come to be with him particularly in Holy Communion, the more we will become like him.
There is a lovely passage in a book by Sister Briege McKenna which illustrates beautifully the effect of coming into the presence of Jesus, particularly through this sacrament….
"I was just looking at the Blessed Sacrament and adoring Jesus and telling him I didn't have much to say except that I loved him. I felt as though the Lord said to me, "Well, don't you know that you don't have to say anything to me? Just be with me. Come into my presence. It's not what you do for me, it's what I want to do for you." Then I got an image of a person going out of his house and sitting in the sun. As he sat in the sun, he didn't do a thing, but he started to change colour. People who saw him knew he had been in the sun because his skin showed it. The man knew it too, because he felt the effects of the sun: the warmth and the light. I heard the Lord saying, "So it is when you come into my presence. You will experience the effects of your time spent with me. People will see it in your actions". From "Miracles do Happen" by Briege McKenna OSC (ISBN 0-86217-253-5)
It is important to remember that when Jesus comes to us in Holy Communion, he is not fragmenting himself into thousands of little pieces. Rather, he is absorbing us into himself. To the degree that he shared in our humanity, he shares his divinity with us. All who come to share in the Sacrament of Holy Communion are being absorbed into Jesus - we are becoming one body with him. That is an extraordinary thought and immediately begs the question "If God is absorbing us into Himself, what are we being empowered to do or become?"
We are being empowered to grow in love, faith, trustfulness, humility, self-control, patience, goodness, joy and kindness. Perhaps God is calling you, personally, to carry out some special task which is only yours to do?
In Holy Communion, or Corpus Christi, Jesus comes to us not with a mighty trumpet blast or glorious alleluias, but as he came into the world in the first place, humbly. He comes in the form of a humble wafer of bread and drop of wine. His great hope is that, in return, we will bring ourselves, humbly, into his presence.
Above all, Corpus Christi is a celebration that, despite Jesus' walking this earth 2,000 years ago, despite his death and despite his leaving for heaven, He is still with us. This truth is, indeed, worthy of many 'alleluias'.
The Ascension ... where am I in this story?
The amazing thing about the Gospels - and the myriad of stories contained within them - is that there is not a story or passage in which we are not included somehow: we are there, in them all, somewhere and somehow!
We learn to live the Gospel life - the life that Jesus wants us to live - by allowing ourselves to enter into the Gospel, and we can begin to do this by asking ourselves of any particular scene or story:
- Where am I in this scene?
- What aspects of it can I relate to?
- Is there any part of it that relates to my own life and experience?
- What is Jesus trying to tell me?
- What are the other people in this scene trying to tell me?
We will very soon be celebrating the first important event after Easter and which has a direct message for us: the Feast of the Ascension. The occasions of both the Ascension and Pentecost are inextricably linked not only to each other, but also to us, individually and personally. There are two aspects of the Ascension which have something to say to us and to which we can all relate:
- the sadness and inevitability of losing someone we love, and
- the inevitability of our own passage from this life into the next
If we have lost someone we love, we can relate to the disciples' complete despair at losing Jesus not just once, but twice. Their first experience of grief, when Jesus was killed and left in a tomb, was soon to turn to unadulterated joy and celebration by his appearing among them again, in the flesh, just days after his death. Just pause for a moment and try to imagine what this must have felt like: imagine if one of your loved ones came back from the dead - your heart would be filled to bursting with joy and you would never wish to go through the pain of losing them again.
The time between Christ's resurrection and ascension must therefore have been a deeply precious time for them all: were they able to say to Jesus all the things they wished they had said before he was crucified? Were they more open with Jesus about their love, affection and gratitude for him? Did Peter rejoice to have the opportunity to apologise, personally, to him for having denied him three times? What questions should this raise for us?
- Do my family and friends know that I love them?
- Am I truly grateful for the gift of companionship?
- Do I work hard enough to heal divisions caused by disagreement?
- Do I treasure my own friendship with Jesus?
- What is my friendship with Jesus like?
- Am I careful not to make it all take and no give?
This was a precious time for the disciples: they must have had a renewed sense of gratitude for him and for the gift of his friendship and we can only guess at what profound sadness they were filled with at the prospect of losing Jesus for a second time.
Jesus, though, made it very clear that his going had a real purpose and that not only they, but generations to come - you and me - would benefit by his going to the Father. What was this purpose?
Firstly, and apart from anything else, it was time for Jesus to go home to his beloved Father: "If you loved me, you would be glad that I am going to the Father - the world must know that I love the Father" (John 14:28). He quite simply wanted to go home.
How hard it is to let someone we love go, but this is what Jesus is telling us in this scene: he knows the anguish that separation through death brings, but he wants us to be reassured that our departure from this world - and the departure of our loved ones - is nothing other than going home. His friends were quick to understand what he was saying and were clearly comforted by this, for they "went back to Jerusalem, filled with great joy" (Luke24:52).
Secondly, he knew that unless he went home to his Father in heaven he would not be able to bring about the promised baptism with the Holy Spirit: "Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift I told you about, the gift my Father promised…… in a few days you will be baptised with the Holy Spirit" (Acts 1:4-5). This must have been a source of excitement, encouragement and comfort for his friends, though they could not possibly have guessed what this baptism with the Holy Spirit was going to do for and with them.
Lastly, he was going ahead of us to prepare a place in heaven for each of us: "I am going now to prepare a place for you…." (John 14:2). Having blazed a trail through death, he was now going ahead to make ready a place for us in heaven: what more could we possibly ask of him?
"But when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, you will be filled with power, and you will be witnesses for me…to the ends of the earth." After saying this, he was taken up to heaven as they watched him, and a cloud hid him from their sight.
(Acts 1:8)
And so, Jesus departed and his friends waited…….
We learn to live the Gospel life - the life that Jesus wants us to live - by allowing ourselves to enter into the Gospel, and we can begin to do this by asking ourselves of any particular scene or story:
- Where am I in this scene?
- What aspects of it can I relate to?
- Is there any part of it that relates to my own life and experience?
- What is Jesus trying to tell me?
- What are the other people in this scene trying to tell me?
We will very soon be celebrating the first important event after Easter and which has a direct message for us: the Feast of the Ascension. The occasions of both the Ascension and Pentecost are inextricably linked not only to each other, but also to us, individually and personally. There are two aspects of the Ascension which have something to say to us and to which we can all relate:
- the sadness and inevitability of losing someone we love, and
- the inevitability of our own passage from this life into the next
If we have lost someone we love, we can relate to the disciples' complete despair at losing Jesus not just once, but twice. Their first experience of grief, when Jesus was killed and left in a tomb, was soon to turn to unadulterated joy and celebration by his appearing among them again, in the flesh, just days after his death. Just pause for a moment and try to imagine what this must have felt like: imagine if one of your loved ones came back from the dead - your heart would be filled to bursting with joy and you would never wish to go through the pain of losing them again.
The time between Christ's resurrection and ascension must therefore have been a deeply precious time for them all: were they able to say to Jesus all the things they wished they had said before he was crucified? Were they more open with Jesus about their love, affection and gratitude for him? Did Peter rejoice to have the opportunity to apologise, personally, to him for having denied him three times? What questions should this raise for us?
- Do my family and friends know that I love them?
- Am I truly grateful for the gift of companionship?
- Do I work hard enough to heal divisions caused by disagreement?
- Do I treasure my own friendship with Jesus?
- What is my friendship with Jesus like?
- Am I careful not to make it all take and no give?
This was a precious time for the disciples: they must have had a renewed sense of gratitude for him and for the gift of his friendship and we can only guess at what profound sadness they were filled with at the prospect of losing Jesus for a second time.
Jesus, though, made it very clear that his going had a real purpose and that not only they, but generations to come - you and me - would benefit by his going to the Father. What was this purpose?
Firstly, and apart from anything else, it was time for Jesus to go home to his beloved Father: "If you loved me, you would be glad that I am going to the Father - the world must know that I love the Father" (John 14:28). He quite simply wanted to go home.
How hard it is to let someone we love go, but this is what Jesus is telling us in this scene: he knows the anguish that separation through death brings, but he wants us to be reassured that our departure from this world - and the departure of our loved ones - is nothing other than going home. His friends were quick to understand what he was saying and were clearly comforted by this, for they "went back to Jerusalem, filled with great joy" (Luke24:52).
Secondly, he knew that unless he went home to his Father in heaven he would not be able to bring about the promised baptism with the Holy Spirit: "Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift I told you about, the gift my Father promised…… in a few days you will be baptised with the Holy Spirit" (Acts 1:4-5). This must have been a source of excitement, encouragement and comfort for his friends, though they could not possibly have guessed what this baptism with the Holy Spirit was going to do for and with them.
Lastly, he was going ahead of us to prepare a place in heaven for each of us: "I am going now to prepare a place for you…." (John 14:2). Having blazed a trail through death, he was now going ahead to make ready a place for us in heaven: what more could we possibly ask of him?
"But when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, you will be filled with power, and you will be witnesses for me…to the ends of the earth." After saying this, he was taken up to heaven as they watched him, and a cloud hid him from their sight.
(Acts 1:8)
And so, Jesus departed and his friends waited…….
Wednesday, 15 April 2009
Earthenware jars ...
Four years ago I was lying in bed thinking about the passing of Pope John Paul II and, like so many people around the world, reflecting on the huge impact that his personal witness has made to the world during the course of his 26-year papacy.
I tried to imagine what it might be like to be on one’s death bed, with the entire world holding its breath, waiting for one to die. What a strange and curious way to go. Whilst many may not have agreed with him, it seems to me that the world respected him as a man of tremendous warmth and compassion and a brave witness in a society whose values were constantly challenged by the truths for which he so bravely stood.
What touched me about the pope’s death is that his task and his joy in life had been to carry out the will of God and he was therefore happy to pass on. How wonderful to be able to face the prospect of meeting one’s Maker (and Judge) serenely and joyfully, confident in the knowledge that you have done what was yours to do and to the best of your ability, that you have served God in all that he has asked of you.
With this thought in mind, I couldn’t help (though we shouldn’t really) but hold myself up in comparison with him and his witness. It was a depressing comparison until I consoled myself with the knowledge that he was, of course, unique and his role in this world was unique. In making comparisons we must be very careful not to devalue our own personal journey and witness, for isn’t our own role and personal response to God unique? No-one else can tread the path that I am treading: what is mine to do is mine to do. My role may be considerably more humble and less public, but is that any reason to suppose that my own personal witness and commitment is less worthy in the sight of God?
This brought to mind a couple of lovely passages from “Story of a Soul” by St Therese of Lisieux:
“I understood how all the flowers He has created are beautiful, how the splendour of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not take away the perfume of the little violet or the wonderful simplicity of the daisy. And so it is in the world of souls. He willed to create great souls comparable to lilies and roses, but he has created smaller ones and these must be content to be daisies or violets destined to give joy to God’s glances when he looks down at his feet”.
And in another passage, St Therese questions why God appears to give glory in unequal measures …
“I was surprised that God did not give equal glory to all ….. Then Pauline told me to fetch Papa’s large tumbler and set it alongside my thimble and filled both to the brim with water. She asked me which one was fuller. I told her each was as full as the other and that it was impossible to put in more water than they could contain”
As with so many people (of all religious persuasions) at such a time, the death of the Pope caused us to question where we stand in regard to our relationship with God and also on many ethical and religious issues. I have a real sense that, just as the tsunami in 2005 gave the world an opportunity to unite, the passing of the Pope offered us a further opportunity to unite as one against the sleaze, the corruption, greed and transitory nature of current popular culture and to embrace the aspirations for a world built upon integrity, honesty, truth, purity of heart, mind and intention, peace and justice, fraternal love and respect: all these things which Pope John Paul II so valiantly championed and for which he is now, rightly, being proclaimed ‘Great’.
How are we to unite? Firstly, we need to make our own personal decisions about our own way of life. We need to look to our own consciences about how we are not co-operating with God in the way he is asking us to. Could I carry out that which is mine to carry out with a greater spirit of love and service to others? Could I be a more faithful and loving wife and mother, or husband and father? Could I give greater thanks to God for all that he gives to me every day? Could I be doing better in bringing my children up in the faith? Could I be doing more to protect the rights of those who are vulnerable and on the edge of society? Could I be far more generous with my money? And so much else.
Secondly, we have to unite with all people of goodwill against the pernicious forces which threaten the moral stability of this world. We need to stand up and be counted in the fight against all forms of human degradation, and this includes the – apparently – innocuous pornography and violence on our screens right through to freeing the world of all forms of slavery, especially the evil of child sex slavery.
Seeing the dead body of the Pope in the newspapers and TV at the time forcibly reminded me of St Paul's words (2 Cor 4:7) that the body really is just a worthless earthenware jar. Looking at his grey and completely lifeless face we could see for ourselves, quite clearly, that his soul had flown, leaving what can only be described as a greying and decaying shell. It is a powerful reminder and vivid example of the place that Spirit has – or should have – in our lives. True life is Spirit and we are brought to life by the Holy Spirit engaging with our soul - a process begun at Baptism - and enlivened throughout our lives by the sacraments. When the soul is separated from the body, we can see the grim result: stiff, cold death. Therefore, this logically says to me that our modern obsession with our physical bodies (so dangerous, anyway, for young impressionable minds) is as far removed from what true Life is all about. Our lives, if they are to be in any way meaningful, must be centred on the Spirit: only that can be true Life.
I tried to imagine what it might be like to be on one’s death bed, with the entire world holding its breath, waiting for one to die. What a strange and curious way to go. Whilst many may not have agreed with him, it seems to me that the world respected him as a man of tremendous warmth and compassion and a brave witness in a society whose values were constantly challenged by the truths for which he so bravely stood.
What touched me about the pope’s death is that his task and his joy in life had been to carry out the will of God and he was therefore happy to pass on. How wonderful to be able to face the prospect of meeting one’s Maker (and Judge) serenely and joyfully, confident in the knowledge that you have done what was yours to do and to the best of your ability, that you have served God in all that he has asked of you.
With this thought in mind, I couldn’t help (though we shouldn’t really) but hold myself up in comparison with him and his witness. It was a depressing comparison until I consoled myself with the knowledge that he was, of course, unique and his role in this world was unique. In making comparisons we must be very careful not to devalue our own personal journey and witness, for isn’t our own role and personal response to God unique? No-one else can tread the path that I am treading: what is mine to do is mine to do. My role may be considerably more humble and less public, but is that any reason to suppose that my own personal witness and commitment is less worthy in the sight of God?
This brought to mind a couple of lovely passages from “Story of a Soul” by St Therese of Lisieux:
“I understood how all the flowers He has created are beautiful, how the splendour of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not take away the perfume of the little violet or the wonderful simplicity of the daisy. And so it is in the world of souls. He willed to create great souls comparable to lilies and roses, but he has created smaller ones and these must be content to be daisies or violets destined to give joy to God’s glances when he looks down at his feet”.
And in another passage, St Therese questions why God appears to give glory in unequal measures …
“I was surprised that God did not give equal glory to all ….. Then Pauline told me to fetch Papa’s large tumbler and set it alongside my thimble and filled both to the brim with water. She asked me which one was fuller. I told her each was as full as the other and that it was impossible to put in more water than they could contain”
As with so many people (of all religious persuasions) at such a time, the death of the Pope caused us to question where we stand in regard to our relationship with God and also on many ethical and religious issues. I have a real sense that, just as the tsunami in 2005 gave the world an opportunity to unite, the passing of the Pope offered us a further opportunity to unite as one against the sleaze, the corruption, greed and transitory nature of current popular culture and to embrace the aspirations for a world built upon integrity, honesty, truth, purity of heart, mind and intention, peace and justice, fraternal love and respect: all these things which Pope John Paul II so valiantly championed and for which he is now, rightly, being proclaimed ‘Great’.
How are we to unite? Firstly, we need to make our own personal decisions about our own way of life. We need to look to our own consciences about how we are not co-operating with God in the way he is asking us to. Could I carry out that which is mine to carry out with a greater spirit of love and service to others? Could I be a more faithful and loving wife and mother, or husband and father? Could I give greater thanks to God for all that he gives to me every day? Could I be doing better in bringing my children up in the faith? Could I be doing more to protect the rights of those who are vulnerable and on the edge of society? Could I be far more generous with my money? And so much else.
Secondly, we have to unite with all people of goodwill against the pernicious forces which threaten the moral stability of this world. We need to stand up and be counted in the fight against all forms of human degradation, and this includes the – apparently – innocuous pornography and violence on our screens right through to freeing the world of all forms of slavery, especially the evil of child sex slavery.
Seeing the dead body of the Pope in the newspapers and TV at the time forcibly reminded me of St Paul's words (2 Cor 4:7) that the body really is just a worthless earthenware jar. Looking at his grey and completely lifeless face we could see for ourselves, quite clearly, that his soul had flown, leaving what can only be described as a greying and decaying shell. It is a powerful reminder and vivid example of the place that Spirit has – or should have – in our lives. True life is Spirit and we are brought to life by the Holy Spirit engaging with our soul - a process begun at Baptism - and enlivened throughout our lives by the sacraments. When the soul is separated from the body, we can see the grim result: stiff, cold death. Therefore, this logically says to me that our modern obsession with our physical bodies (so dangerous, anyway, for young impressionable minds) is as far removed from what true Life is all about. Our lives, if they are to be in any way meaningful, must be centred on the Spirit: only that can be true Life.
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