Monthly Archives: September 2016

Our Lady of Sorrows
Hebrews 5:7-9 | Psalm 30:2-6,15-16,20 | John 19:25-27

At the Cross her station keeping,
stood the mournful Mother weeping,
close to Jesus to the last. (Stabat Mater)

I can only imagine the pain Our Blessed Mother must have experienced, gazing on her Son bleeding out on the cross, remembering the prophetic words of Simeon, trying to understand why.

We have the benefit of scripture and a few millenia of tradition, and yet we can’t really comprehend it either, how God could love every human past, present and future, love us all so much as to send His Son to sacrifice Himself for the redemption of everyone. To us, such all-encompassing love is so alien, so outside our narrow experience.

But Mary was touched by God, privileged to bear Him within her womb, so I think she was much better placed to understand such depths of love, even though Love’s consequences wrenched her heart inside out.

This is why we still hold her in such high esteem, why we continually turn to her in our own sorrow and pain, to ask for her intercession. There is no one better than Our Blessed Mother to fill this role, for she was fully human, yet knew God so much better than any of us ever will in a hundred lifetimes.

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you.
Blessed are you among women,
and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God,
pray for us sinners,
now and at the our of our death. Amen.

The Exaltation of the Holy Cross
Numbers 21:4-9 | Psalm 77:1-2,34-38 | Philippians 2:6-11 | John 3:13-17

Moses fashioned a bronze serpent which he put on a standard, and if anyone was bitten by a serpent, he looked at the bronze serpent and lived. (Numbers 21:9)

IDOL WORSHIP!!!

Um, no. There’s a big difference between a symbol and an idol, that’s best understood by reading what King Hezekiah eventually did with that bronze serpent:

It was he who abolished the high places, broke the pillars, cut down the sacred poles and smashed the bronze serpent that Moses had made; for up to that time the Israelites had offered sacrifice to it; it was called Nehushtan. (2 Kings 18:4)

It’s the same serpent, but what we do with it determines whether we’ve crossed the line into idolatry.

The Israelites in Moses’ time used the serpent as a reminder to return to the God who loved them. They did not have touch it, or kiss it; just looking at it, reflecting on their transgressions and mentally turning about to face God again was sufficient.

The Israelites in Hezekiah’s time, though, treated it like a god, believing that the power of healing resided within it. To them, the serpent was a magic object with a “life” of its own, and I’ve written previously about how even we Catholics can fall prey to idolatrous behaviour.

However, symbols are essential to human belief of any stripe, even Catholicism. We simply find it difficult to relate to pure concepts, so we need something visual and concrete that itself points to what we wish to understand or behold.

When I go to sleep at night, then wake up refreshed the next morning, it’s as if I’d died and come back to life again. I didn’t literally expire 1at least, my wife has never had to perform CPR on me in the middle of the night, but it’s a powerful reminder to discard all the detritus and transgressions of the previous day and begin anew with God.

The crucifix around my neck, and the huge marble one at church, are symbols that remind me of the Christ who was sent, “not to condemn the world, but so that through him the world might be saved.” (John 3:17) I don’t rub either for good luck, as I’m sure that Jesus doesn’t reside in gold or stone, but I do gaze on both often, to keep Him in mind.

More importantly, if either crucifix were lost or destroyed for whatever reason, it would cause me some small pang of regret, but I wouldn’t think that my life would now be infested by flaming serpents, or leprous sores, or 7×7 years of horrible luck. Instead, I’ll find some other way to remind myself of the Son of God, who emptied Himself to become man, and gave up His life to save all mankind.

We adore You, O Christ, and we bless You,
because by Your Holy Cross You have redeemed the world.

Amen.

Tuesday of Week 24 in Ordinary Time (Year II)
St. John Chrysostom, Bishop, Doctor
1 Corinthians 12:12-14,27-31 | Psalm 99:1-5 | Luke 7:11-17

Be ambitious for the higher gifts. (1 Corinthians 12:31)

There are times, in the dead of night, when the words “what if?” bubble up in my mind.

What if I’d turned down a request to take over leadership of my church choir over two decades ago – would I still be active in church today?

What if my wife and I had kids – would I have given up my freelancing freedom?

What if I’d realized my childhood ambition to join the priesthood?

That last question still haunts me, even after years of navigating a life-course that pointed roughly towards anywhere-but-God. Now that I’ve found a new confidence in talking about matters of faith, but am no longer eligible to be wed to the Church, I can’t help but wonder if I missed God’s call to serve in persona Christi.

And then the sun rises on a new day, and I get on with my daily life, but when night falls, so too does that same wistful thought.

In a way, I appreciate this tension, as it keeps the inner fire of the Spirit burning in my heart, and compels me to continue this daily journey of scriptural reflection as part of my “ambition for the higher gifts”.

Still…”what if?”

Monday of Week 24 in Ordinary Time (Year II)
1 Corinthians 11:17-26,33 | Psalm 39:7-10,17 | Luke 7:1-10

Behold this remarkable centurion in today’s Gospel:

• He commands a hundred men, yet is humble enough to worry about his slave’s well-being.
• He is a Gentile, but also a benefactor to the local Jewish community, going so far as to fund the construction of a synagogue.
• He hears about a rabbi who’s going around and curing people, and though he is the local Authority, he’s humble enough to ask for his help, instead of getting his troops to forcibly demand a healing.
• His Jewish “subjects” are impressed enough to willingly plead his case to Jesus.
• He respects the stricture that Jews are not allowed to visit Gentile homes (Acts 10:28), yet gives Jesus much “face” by claiming that he was the unworthy one.
• He doesn’t know Jesus from Adam, yet recognizes His power and authority to cure his servant even without physical proximity.

Is it any wonder that Jesus was amazed?

More to the point, how do we compare to this centurion, despite having the benefit of an educated faith?

• Do we care for our employees’ welfare (maids and subordinates alike)?
• Do we respect their needs and aspirations?
• Do we deal with them in humility, or demand “our way or the highway”?
• Are they willing to defend us in dire situations?
• Do we show kindness to them?
• Do we recognize and respect their abilities?

Or do we treat them like replaceable cogs in our money-making machine?

Lord, may we never forget all who support us in our daily lives. Remind us often to treat them with the love and respect they deserve, for they too are Your children, and therefore our brothers and sisters in You. Amen.

24th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year C)
Exodus 32:7-11,13-14 | Psalm 50:3-4,12-13,17,19 | 1 Timothy 1:12-17 | Luke 15:1-32

Today’s Gospel speaks of the patient joy of God, as He waits for us to return to His loving embrace. There are few Christians would couldn’t recite from memory an abridged Parable of the Prodigal Son, yet our response to His call is almost always a deflection:

Not now, Lord, I have to care for my infirm parents. Wait till they pass on, then I’ll come back, OK?

Not now, Lord, I have to finish this work project, because there’s another one on my plate that’s now overdue. Wait till I retire, then I’ll come back, OK?

Not now, Lord, I gotta catch ’em all! Wait till I run out of Pokémon, then I’ll come back, OK?

We often forget that this world will make never-ending demands on our limited time. There will always be one more family issue to take care of, one more job we take on because we can’t afford to retire, one more game to play.

And we forget that there’s a different ending to the Parable of the Prodigal Son, one that may presage our own destiny:

Then he came to his senses and said, “How many of my father’s paid servants have more food than they want, and here am I dying of hunger! I will leave this place and go to my father and say: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as one of your paid servants.” So he left the place and went back to his father.

But he was stopped at the immigration checkpoint to his home country; because he had not been in touch for so long, his passport had expired and his citizenship had been revoked. No amount of pleading with the border guards would move them; they forcibly ejected him, and he was left in the same dire straits as before, soon dying penniless and alone.

In the meantime, the father was left to take joy in his remaining filial son, whose many descendants paid him much respect as his son had taught them. Still, to his dying day, the father often wondered what became of his other son, and wished fervently but fruitlessly for one last family reunion.

Keep putting off reconciliation with the Lord till tomorrow, and there will one day be no more tomorrows.

Go back to Him with all our heart,
Don’t let fear keep us apart.
Trees do bend, though straight and tall,
So must we to God’s own call.

Long has He waited for our coming
Home to Him and living deeply our new life.

Amen.