Morning
Offering: O Jesus, through the most pure heart of Mary, I offer you
all the prayers, works, joys and sufferings of this day for all the
intentions of your divine heart, in union with the holy sacrifice of the
Mass. I offer them especially for the
Holy Father's intentions:
Pope
Benedict's general prayer intention for February is: "That by means of
sincere search for the truth scholars and intellectuals may arrive at an
understanding of the one true God".
His mission intention is: "That the Church, aware of her
own missionary identity, may strive to follow Christ faithfully and to
proclaim His Gospel to all peoples".
Prayers this week:Save
us, Lord our God, and gather us together from the nations, that we may
proclaim your holy name and glory in your praise.
(Psalm 105: 47)
Lord our God, help us to love you with all our hearts and to love all men as
you love them. We ask this
through
our Lord Jesus Christ your Son in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God
for ever and ever.
(January 31) St. John Bosco (1815-1888)
John Bosco’s theory of education could well be used in today’s schools. It was a
preventive system, rejecting corporal punishment and placing students in
surroundings removed from the likelihood of committing sin. He advocated
frequent reception
of
the sacraments of Penance and Holy Communion. He combined catechetical training
and fatherly guidance, seeking to unite the spiritual life with one’s work,
study and play. Encouraged during his youth to become a priest so he could work
with young boys, John was ordained in 1841. His service to young people started
when he met a poor orphan and instructed him in preparation for receiving Holy
Communion. He then gathered young apprentices and taught them catechism. After
serving as chaplain in a hospice for working girls, John opened the Oratory of
St. Francis de Sales for boys. Several wealthy and powerful patrons contributed
money, enabling him to provide two workshops for the boys, shoemaking and
tailoring. By 1856, the institution had grown to 150 boys and had added a
printing press for publication of religious and catechetical pamphlets. His
interest in vocational education and publishing justify him as patron of young
apprentices and Catholic publishers. John’s preaching fame spread and by 1850 he
had trained his own helpers because of difficulties in retaining young priests.
In 1854 he and his followers informally banded together under Francis de Sales.
With Pope Pius IX’s encouragement, John gathered 17 men and founded the
Salesians in 1859. Their activity concentrated on education and mission work.
Later, he organized a group of Salesian Sisters to assist girls.
“Every education teaches a philosophy; if not by dogma then by
suggestion, by implication, by atmosphere. Every part of that education has a
connection with every other part. If it does not all combine to convey some
general view of life, it is not education at all” (G.K. Chesterton, The
Common Man). (AmericanCatholic.org)
Jesus began speaking in the synagogue,
saying: “Today this Scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing.” And all
spoke highly of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his
mouth. They also asked, “Isn’t this the son of Joseph?” He said to
them, “Surely you will quote me this proverb, ‘Physician, cure yourself,’ and
say, ‘Do here in your native place the things that we heard were done in
Capernaum.’” And he said, “Amen, I say to you, no prophet is accepted in his own
native place. Indeed, I tell you, there were many widows in Israel in the days
of Elijah when the sky was closed for three and a half years and a severe famine
spread over the entire land. It was to none of these that Elijah was sent, but
only to a widow in Zarephath in the land of Sidon. Again, there were many lepers
in Israel during the time of Elisha the prophet; yet not one of them was
cleansed, but only Naaman the Syrian.” When the people in the synagogue heard
this, they were all filled with fury. They rose up, drove him out of the town,
and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town had been built, to hurl
him down headlong. But Jesus passed through the midst of them and went away.
(Luke 4:21-30)
The heart of man Our Gospel passage today presents the
reader with an extraordinary occasion. Our Lord returned to Nazareth, and went
to the Synagogue on the Sabbath day as he usually did. He got up to read, read
the prophecy that was about himself, gave his breathtaking comment on it, and
his townspeople were so angry that they hustled him out of the town to throw him
over the cliff (Luke 4: 21-30). They
intended to murder him. These were the ordinary people he knew and loved, his
neighbours
when he was a growing boy. He had visited their sick, attended their weddings,
sorrowed at their funerals, and enjoyed their festivals. As the
carpenter-builder he had perhaps built their houses, made their furniture and
fashioned their ploughs. We can imagine what a neighbour and friend to them our
Lord would have been all those years. How could they have turned on him in this
way? To ask that question is to raise the mystery of sin. Sin was present in
their hearts, and it is present in our hearts as well. There is an old saying — at times attributed to John Bradford (circa 1510–1555)
— which runs, but for the
grace of God, there go I. We ought not think that it would have been impossible
for us to have been among those at Nazareth who turned so violently against our
Lord. We ought never think that we are too good for what we see others do, for
there go I but for the grace of God. As we consider the reaction to Jesus as
narrated in the Gospel, let us consider the awfulness of sin and what it can
lead the human heart to choose. Sin must be overcome! There was once a famous
catchcry of classical Rome, “Cathago delenda est!” By the end of
the second Punic War in which Hannibal and his elephants crossed the Alps, Rome
hated Carthage. Marcus Cato, a respected senator, began to clamour "Carthago
delenda est!""Carthage must be destroyed!" Well, a
similar cry must ring out in our hearts: Sin must be overcome! Sin
is the most hateful thing, and by God’s grace it must be overcome.
Our Lord could see that his words to his
townsmen were not being accepted, and he told them that they were in danger of
not receiving the blessing of God. Elijah, he reminded them, was sent not to
God’s people to work his miracle, but to a pagan widow. The prophet Elisha cured
none of the many Jewish lepers, but a foreigner. That is to say, God would pass
the townspeople of Nazareth by — unless they changed their attitude. At this,
they were furious and tried to do away with him. In effect they said, “we will
not listen to you about our spiritual and moral shortcomings. And never you dare
to tell us that we reject God’s messengers!” It was an omen of our Lord’s public
ministry and a manifestation of the sinfulness which is at the root of the
rejection of Christ. This same drama plays itself out in all times and places,
including in our own lives. Jesus Christ speaks to us in the Scriptures, in the
pastors of the Church — priests, bishops, and especially in the Pope — and at
times in one another. He speaks to us also at Mass. At Mass our Lord is present
in the gathering of God’s people, in the person of the priest, in Christ’s word,
and most of all in the Eucharist. He speaks to us there just as truly as he did
in that Synagogue of Nazareth. Do we, at both Mass and generally in our
religion, have listening hearts, or are we a little like the people of Nazareth?
When the Church — say, in the person of the Pope — speaks on a point of faith or
morals, the response of some is very far from what it should be. St Augustine
had the experience of preaching a message that was unwelcome. He once wrote to
his flock in these words: However unwelcome I may be in what I preach, I have to
say this to you: You wish to stray, you wish to be lost, but I cannot want this.
This is because I am a shepherd and God will be angry with me if I am an
unfaithful shepherd. Shall I fear him rather than you? Remember we must all
present ourselves before the judgment seat of Christ. I am obliged to be a good
shepherd and preach the word no matter whether you like it or not.
As we think of how the Nazarenes reacted
to the preaching of our Lord, we ought examine our own attitude towards the
teaching of the Church as it comes to us in the preaching and teaching of the
Church’s pastors, especially the Church’s chief pastor, the Pope. Today we are
invited to cultivate hearts that constantly listen to Christ. The heart that
listens to Christ is a heart that loves him. It is a heart like that of Mary,
who was the shining exception to the attitude of many who heard our Lord at
Nazareth.
“When
they heard this everyone in the synagogue was enraged. They sprang to their feet
and hustled him out of the town; and they took him up to the brow of the hill
their town was built on, intending to throw him down the cliff, but he slipped
through the crown and walked away.” (Luke 4: 21-30)
DispositionsDuring the second half of the twentieth
century some archaeological work was done on the village of Nazareth of the time
of Christ. Interestingly, the digs indicated that the village had a lengthy if
fitful history prior to Jesus. But in all of its obscure history to that point,
there was surely no event so important as the one we read in today’s Gospel. On
this occasion (Luke 4:21-30), Jesus reveals to them that he is the Messiah, and
that they beheld before them the fulfilment of the promises of the prophets. In
the nature of the case, our Lord’s words and presence occasioned the greatest
decision that the town and each of its inhabitants had ever had to make. It was
the chance of a lifetime, and it was lost. They rejected Jesus and his claim to
be the Messiah, and so he passed through their midst and went on his way. It is
surely a tremendous lesson for every person of every time.
Now what, we might ask, did those people
do that led them to go so wrong? Why did they make that terrible decision to
reject Jesus? Of course, there must have been many reasons, but a simple yet
very important one comes to mind. Speaking simply, fundamentally
they were not properly disposed. They lacked a proper readiness of mind and
heart to believe our Lord and his word. The immediate question then is, And why
was this? Of course we must speculate, but surely we can assume that an
important factor was that they were leading lives of religious and moral
mediocrity. The life of Nazareth and its inhabitants consisted of plain and
ordinary duties, a daily round of doing the simple things. In those many little
duties that made up their daily existence at Nazareth, in unnoticed ways they
were failing to obey God’s will. A repeated moral failure in little duties,
unrepentant and continual, will assuredly produce a reluctance to do whatever
God asks. Their rejection of Christ indicates that sanctity was not their
everyday ideal. They did not have the moral readiness to hear the word of God
and to put it into practice. Perhaps a hint of this is given in Nathanael’s
answer when told by Philip of Jesus of Nazareth. He said, can anything good come
out of Nazareth? Mary was a shining exception.
By contrast, let us compare the reaction
of Nazareth to Jesus’ claims with the reaction of Simeon and Anna years before,
when the infant Jesus was presented in the Temple. They accepted the Child for
who he was. Why? They were properly disposed in the first place. They accepted
him because they were open to the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. They were
disposed in this way precisely because their whole lives had been lives of
fidelity to their conscience. Their holy lives sustained their moral and
religious disposition, just as their moral and religious disposition sustained
their holy lives. Their fidelity to grace and the dictates of conscience
disposed them to accept God and his revelation when the critical moment came.
When God’s will became manifest, no matter what it was, they were ready to do
it. Aquinas says somewhere that holiness consists in the total readiness to
accept and do God’s will. This readiness is developed in the constant doing of
God’s will in the little duties of every day.
Let us learn from the tragedy of the
rejection of Jesus by the people of Nazareth. Let us be ready for whatever God
asks in life, wherever and whenever it might be. We shall only be ready if we
are trying to do his will every day in the seemingly ordinary unimportant things
of life.
(E.J.Tyler)
I do not know how it strikes you…, but I feel I must tell you how moved I am
whenever I read the words of the prophet Isaiah: Ego vocavi te nomine tuo,
meus es tu! — I have called you, I have brought you into my Church, you are
mine! God himself telling me I am his! It is enough to make one go mad with
Love!
(The Forge, no.12)
The less amiable specimens of this spurious religion are those which we meet not
unfrequently in my own country. I can use with all my heart the poet’s words,
“England, with all thy faults, I love thee still” [William Cowper]; but to those
faults no Catholic can be blind. We find these men possessed of many virtues,
but proud, bashful, fastidious, and reserved. Why is this? it is because they
think and act as if there were really nothing objective in their religion; it is
because conscience to them is not the word of a lawgiver, as it ought to be, but
the dictate of their own minds and nothing more; it is because they do not look
out of themselves, because they do not look through and beyond their own minds
to their Maker, but are engrossed in notions of what is due to themselves, to
their own dignity and their own consistency. Their conscience has become a mere
self-respect.
John Henry Newman, from The Idea of a University Part I (1852)
(February 1) St.
Ansgar (801-865)
The "apostle of the north" (Scandinavia)
had enough frustrations to become a saint—and he did. He became a Benedictine at
Corbie, France, where he had been educated. Three years later, when the king of
Denmark became a convert, Ansgar went to that country for three years of
missionary work, without noticeable success. Sweden asked for Christian
missionaries, and he went there, suffering capture by pirates and other
hardships on the way. Less than two years later he was recalled, to become abbot
of New Corbie (Corvey) and bishop of Hamburg. The pope made him legate for the
Scandinavian missions. Funds for the northern apostolate stopped with Emperor
Louis’s death. After 13 years’ work in Hamburg, Ansgar saw it burned to the
ground by invading Northmen; Sweden and Denmark returned to paganism. He
directed new apostolic activities in the North, travelling to Denmark and being
instrumental in the conversion of another king. By the strange device of casting
lots, the king of Sweden allowed the Christian missionaries to return. Ansgar’s
biographers remark that he was an extraordinary preacher, a humble and ascetical
priest. He was devoted to the poor and the sick, imitating the Lord in washing
their feet and waiting on them at table. He died peacefully at Bremen, Germany,
without achieving his wish to be a martyr. Sweden became pagan again after his
death, and remained so until the coming of missionaries two centuries later.
(AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today:
2 Samuel 15:13-14, 30; 16:5-13;
Psalm 3:2-7; Mark 5: 1-20
Jesus
and his disciples crossed the sea to the country of the Gerasenes. As he stepped
out of the boat, immediately there came to him from the tombs a man with an
unclean spirit. He had been dwelling in the tombs and no one could now restrain
him, not even with chains. Having been often bound with fetters and chains he
had burst the chains and broken the fetters in pieces. No one could tame him. He
was always day and night among the tombs in the mountains crying and cutting
himself with stones. Seeing Jesus afar off he ran and reverenced him. Crying out
with a loud voice he said, "What have I to do with you,
Jesus the Son of the most high God? I adjure you by God that you not torment
me." For he said to him, "Go out of the man, you unclean spirit." And he asked
him, "What is your name?" He said to him, "My name is Legion, for we are many."
He besought him repeatedly that he would not drive him away out of the country.
There was there near the mountain a great herd of swine, feeding. The spirits
besought him saying, "Send us into the swine that we may enter them." Jesus
immediately gave them leave. The unclean spirits going out entered the swine,
and the two thousand or so herd with great violence was swept headlong into the
sea and there were drowned. Those who looked after them fled and told everything
in the city and in the fields. The inhabitants went out to see what had
happened. When they came to Jesus and saw the one who had been possessed
sitting, clothed, and mentally recovered, they were afraid. Those who had
witnessed everything recounted it to all, explaining what had happened to the
possessed man and to the swine. At that, they began asking him to leave their
district. When he went into the boat, the one who had been possessed began to
implore Jesus that he might remain with him. But Jesus would not permit it, and
told him, "Go to your house and to your friends, and tell them how great have
been the things the Lord has done for you and his mercy towards you." He went
his way and began to broadcast in the Decapolis the great things Jesus had done
for him. Everyone marvelled. (Mark 5:1-20)
The Demons
Despite the great continuity between the
Old and New Testaments, there are striking differences. The New Testament is a
development from the Old, but as a divine revelation it is also a leap ahead
from it. Numerous examples could be given of the differences — most notably
those directly connected with the uniqueness of Jesus Christ. There is no man in
the Old Testament who is the direct Object and Focus of religion. All the
figures of the Old Testament point, of course, to Yahweh God as the Object of
religion. But in the New Testament, Jesus Christ is the Object and Focus. He is
the revelation
of the Father, and in seeing him we see the Father. He is the only way to the
Father, and he is the Way, the Truth and the Life. But apart from the person of
Jesus himself, there are other differences too. One is the open manifestation in
the Gospels of the demonic world. Where in the Old Testament is to be found the
equivalent of the confrontation between Christ and the demons that we read in
our Gospel today? Satan appears at the beginning in the Book of Genesis (ch.3),
presenting himself as a friend of the woman. He acts as a marketer of pride and
rebellion, and with Eve he makes an immediate sale. He is the Deceiver who
brings sin and death. But in the Old Testament he is barely mentioned. There is
a mention in Zechariah 3:1-2, and again in 1 Chronicles 21:1, but apart from
that the main source is the Book of Job. Satan is allowed by God to bring on
Job’s afflictions and this in order to prove his fidelity to God. Beyond that
book, the Old Testament is largely silent. None of the patriarchs or great
prophets openly confront him and there is no formal contest with what Christ
calls the Prince of this world. But once Christ appears on the scene, the battle
is joined in open fashion. On the threshold of his ministry and while fasting in
the wilderness, Christ is formally approached by Satan. Negotiations are brought
on by the Fiend, but they break down utterly. He can gain no foothold and is
sent packing. He thereupon knows that he has before him One whose like he has
never seen in his long history as the black Spoiler. Wherever he goes, Christ
seems to draw the demons out by his mere presence.
In
this sense, the New Testament lights up the teaching of the Old on Satan. By
contrast with the New Testament, the Old Testament shows by default the
hiddenness of Satan. Normally he will not be seen or heard. It is Christ who
forces him and his cohort out of their hiding places. This flushing out of Satan
from his obscurity is one of the many things peculiar to the person and ministry
of Jesus Christ. The demons can’t stand the tension of his being around. They
cry out, they abuse, they plead, even though unprovoked by him. From their point
of view, everything unravels when Jesus Christ approaches. So it is in our
Gospel passage today (Mark 5:1-20), in which
our Lord arrives in pagan territory so as to be with his disciples away from the
crowds. He has calmed the storm on the way across — and I cannot help wondering
whether the demons had something to do with the fury of the storm. He lands on
the shore in "the country of the Gerasenes," and we read that "immediately" a
man hopelessly possessed with demons ran to him from afar and grovelled before
him. The demons instantly declare themselves and plead with Jesus as with One
who has all power and goodness. There is nothing like this in all of the Old
Testament and it reveals a fundamental feature of the New. The Gospels record a
fight between Christ and Satan. Satan had quietly deceived Eve into a
catastrophic course, and then had withdrawn. There in his obscurity he remained,
working withal behind the scene of the world. Now, however, he has to appear
because the seed of the woman, the all-holy One, has arrived to crush his head.
We get the impression of panic in the demonic ranks. All they can do is abuse,
put on bravado, plead and ask for consideration. So it is that in our Gospel
today the demons drive the unfortunate man into the presence of Jesus and ask
for consideration. Do not torment me! they (the "Legion") wail. They seem even
to be playing on Christ’s goodness: they ridiculously attempt to bind our Lord
by oath. I abjure you by God, do not torment me! They want to stay in the area.
Send us, if need be, into the pigs! Our Lord allowed it, and as we read, the
devils thereupon hurled the pigs to their death — yet another sign of their true
form.
The
Gospel of Jesus Christ reveals far more than does the Old Testament that we have
a choice. On the one hand there is Christ, and on the other there is Satan. It
is the same as it was in the beginning. The woman had a choice. She could listen
to the insinuations of the Serpent, or she could listen to the word of God. So
too with us. We can listen to the word of Christ, or we can listen to the
whisperings of Satan. Satan is characteristically hidden — he is as he was in
the Old Testament. He is rarely seen, but his presence is a very active one.
Christ is present and very active too, and he is the far stronger one. Let us
take our stand with Jesus, following his way to the Cross, and gain with him the
victory.
(E.J.Tyler)
It
is possible to obey, not from love towards God and man, but from a sort of
conscientiousness short of love; from some notion of acting up to a law; that
is, more from the fear of God than from love of Him.
JHN, from the sermon ‘Love, the One Thing needful’ (1839)
(February 2) Presentation of the Lord
At the end of the fourth century, a woman named Etheria made a pilgrimage to
Jerusalem. Her journal, discovered in 1887, gives an unprecedented glimpse of
liturgical life there. Among the celebrations she describes is the Epiphany
(January 6), the observance of
Christ’s birth, and the gala procession in honor
of his Presentation in the Temple 40 days later—February 15. (Under the Mosaic
Law, a woman was ritually “unclean” for 40 days after childbirth, when she was
to present herself to the priests and offer sacrifice—her “purification.”
Contact with anyone who had brushed against mystery—birth or death—excluded a
person from Jewish worship.) This feast emphasizes Jesus’ first appearance in
the Temple more than Mary’s purification. The observance spread throughout the
Western Church in the fifth and sixth centuries. Because the Church in the West
celebrated Jesus’ birth on December 25, the Presentation was moved to February
2, 40 days after Christmas. At the beginning of the eighth century, Pope Sergius
inaugurated a candlelight procession; at the end of the same century the
blessing and distribution of candles which continues to this day became part of
the celebration, giving the feast its popular name: Candlemas.
In Luke’s account, Jesus was welcomed in the temple by two elderly people,
Simeon and the widow Anna. They embody Israel in their patient expectation; they
acknowledge the infant Jesus as the long-awaited Messiah. Early references to
the Roman feast dub it the feast of St. Simeon, the old man who burst into a
song of joy which the Church still sings at day’s end.
“Christ himself says, ‘I am the light of the world.’ And we are the light, we
ourselves, if we receive it from him.... But how do we receive it, how do we
make it shine? ...[T]he candle tells us: by burning, and being consumed in the
burning. A spark of fire, a ray of love, an inevitable immolation are celebrated
over that pure, straight candle, as, pouring forth its gift of light, it
exhausts itself in silent sacrifice” (Paul VI). (AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today: Malachi 3:1-4; Psalm 24:7-10; Hebrews 2:14-18; Luke 2:22-40 or
2:22-32
When the time of their purification according to the Law of Moses had been
completed, Joseph and Mary took him to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (as
it is written in the Law of the Lord, Every firstborn male is to be consecrated
to the Lord), and to offer a sacrifice in keeping with what is said in the Law
of the Lord: a pair of doves or two young pigeons. Now there was a man in
Jerusalem called Simeon, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the
consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. It had been revealed to
him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord's
Christ. Moved by the Spirit, he went into the temple courts. When the parents
brought in the child Jesus to do for him what the custom of the Law required,
Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying: Sovereign Lord, as you have
promised, you now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your
salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all people, a light for
revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.
(Luke 2: 22-32)
The Presentation of Christ There are many obvious reasons for striving to
overcome illiteracy. Among those reasons is that by being literate a person has
the benefit of being able to read not only practical everyday material, but
excellent material which can enrich his cultural life. If this is so, then a
principal benefit of being literate is that one is able thereby to read the
inspired Scriptures. For the ordinary secular man, this benefit is scarcely
notable, but for the person who knows that the Bible is the Book of books and
that God is its author, not to be able to read it constitutes a serious lacuna
in a person’s life. I say this as an introduction to some thoughts on the
immense importance of Bible reading. Kierkegaard urged that a person read the
Bible as one would a letter from a personal friend. Of course, it is an
altogether special letter — a collection of short books of various genres,
written over different centuries with very varied material. Though all these
books have God as their fundamental author, they certainly vary in importance. I
would like to suggest that our Gospel scene today (Luke 2: 22-32)
throws light on the Scriptures
and how we ought approach them. To begin with, let us observe that in this
Gospel scene we have surely the grandest gathering of those who embodied the
purest and highest elements of the Old and New Testaments: Simeon and Anna
representing so beautifully the Old Testament, Mary and Joseph as the bridge
with the New, and the infant Messiah as the fulness of the promised blessing. In
that singular group is represented all of God’s dealings with his chosen people
and all of the Scriptures which record those dealings. Perhaps no-one else
outside the little group noticed the gathering, yet that group of five
represented all that the Holy Spirit had done up until the coming of Christ, and
was a pointer to the salvation to come. Jesus, the long-awaited Messiah, was
being presented to the Lord God. The aura of Christmas over, Calvary appears in
the distance.
To begin with, the thought of this group at Christ's presentation in the temple
ought inspire in us a profound love for the Old Testament, for we see in this
group its products. Simeon and Anna were two of its saints, and beautiful souls
they were! They lived holy lives, scrupulously and with love fulfilling their
daily duty. They were led by the Spirit of God and longed with love for the
Messiah. They were given the grace of seeing him and rejoiced. They embodied the
spirit of the Old Testament, and I would suggest that if we wish for a key to
the interpretation of the Old Testament, we have one in the image of these two
souls. What they were and what they did tell us what the Old Testament is and
what it is for. It points to the coming of the Messiah, and its various parts
are to be read with the thought of the Messiah in mind. The climax of the lives
of both Simeon and Anna was the presentation of the Child Jesus in the Temple.
The climax of the Old Testament was the coming of the Saviour, and Simeon and
Anna point to Jesus as that Saviour. The thought of Simeon and Anna ought convey
to us a deep love for the Old Testament and an insight into how it is to be
read. This scene of the Presentation of the Lord also shows the deep connection
between the Old and the New. The Old and the New meet in this scene, and there
is displayed a deep harmony and union between the two. The same Holy Spirit who
led Simeon and Anna was the same divine Spirit who formed Mary and Joseph and
who brought about the Incarnation. At the same time, our Gospel scene shows us
that the most important part of the Scriptures is the simplest part, the part
that is most accessible to the least literate: namely, the Gospels. The four
Gospels are the heart of the Bible, and are the part that all ought read most
often for they reveal the One who is being presented here in the Temple. Christ
is the key, the summit and the focus of the Old Testament, and the Old Testament
helps us appreciate the resounding message of the New. That message is that
Christ is the salvation of the nations, the light of the pagans, the deliverer
of Jerusalem, and the glory of Israel.
Let us linger in this Gospel scene of Christ’s presentation in the Temple. It is
full of significance, and, as I have said, it also tells us much about the
meaning and structure of the Bible itself. It illustrates the grandeur of the
Old Testament; it shows forth the centrality of the New; it reminds us of the
unity and harmony of both, and it sets forth the Gospel story of Jesus as the
high point and key to all of the Scriptures. St Jerome once wrote that ignorance
of the Scriptures will mean ignorance of Christ. So let us love the inspired
Scriptures, and most especially the Gospels.
(E.J.Tyler)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Christ suffered in your place and for your benefit, to tear you away from the
slavery of sin and imperfection.
(The Forge, no.14)
If any one desires illumination to know God’s will as well as strength to do it,
let him come to Mass daily, if he possibly can. At least let him present himself
daily before the Blessed Sacrament, and, as it were, offer his heart to His
Incarnate Saviour, presenting it as a reasonable offering to be influenced,
changed and sanctified under the eye and by the grace of the Eternal Son.
(February 3) St. Blase (d. 316)
We know more about the devotion to St. Blase by Christians around the world than
we know about the saint himself. His feast is observed as a holy day in some
Eastern Churches. The Council of Oxford, in 1222, prohibited servile labour in
England on Blase’s feast day. The Germans and Slavs hold him in special honour
and for decades many United States Catholics have sought the annual St. Blase
blessing for their throats. We know that Bishop Blase was martyred in his
episcopal city of Sebastea, Armenia, in 316. The legendary Acts of St. Blase
were written 400 years later. According to them Blase was a good bishop, working
hard to encourage the spiritual and physical health of his people. Although the
Edict of Toleration (311), granting freedom of worship in the Roman Empire, was
already five years old, persecution still raged in Armenia. Blase was apparently
forced to flee to the back country. There he lived as a hermit in solitude and
prayer, but made friends with the wild animals. One day a group of hunters
seeking wild animals for the amphitheatre stumbled upon Blase’s cave. They were
first surprised and then frightened. The bishop was kneeling in prayer
surrounded by patiently waiting wolves, lions and bears. As the hunters hauled
Blase off to prison, the legend has it, a mother came with her young son who had
a fish bone lodged in his throat. At Blase’s command the child was able to cough
up the bone. Agricolaus, governor of Cappadocia, tried to persuade Blase to
sacrifice to pagan idols. The first time Blase refused, he was beaten. The next
time he was suspended from a tree and his flesh torn with iron combs or rakes.
(English wool combers, who used similar iron combs, took Blase as their patron.
They could easily appreciate the agony the saint underwent.) Finally he was
beheaded. (AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today: 2 Samuel 24:2, 9-17; Psalm 32:1-2, 5-7; Mark 6:1-6
Jesus left there and went to his home town, accompanied by his disciples. When
the Sabbath came, he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him
were amazed. Where did this man get these things? they asked. What's this wisdom
that has been given him, that he even does miracles! Isn't this the carpenter?
Isn't this Mary's son and the brother of James, Joseph, Judas and Simon? Aren't
his sisters here with us? And they took offence at him. Jesus said to them, Only
in his home town, among his relatives and in his own house is a prophet without
honour.
He could not do any miracles there, except lay his hands on a few sick people
and heal them. And he was amazed at their lack of faith.
(Mark 6:1-6)
FaithIn reading this passage it is important that we bear in mind its context.
In Mark’s account — which is probably the account of Simon Peter — this return
of our Lord to his home village of Nazareth occurred well into his Galilean
ministry. All Mark has had to say of Nazareth to that point is his mention in
the first chapter that Jesus came from Nazareth to be baptized by John in the
river Jordan. Once baptized and with John now in prison, Jesus returned to
Galilee in the power of the Spirit, preaching the imminence of God’s Kingdom.
In
this account, Simon and Andrew are the first to be formally called to share in
our Lord’s ministry, together with James and John. This call occurs in Galilee,
and Capernaum appears to be the base of our Lord’s ministry (ch.2). An intense
programme of teaching and miracles ensues in Galilee and it is with the
reputation of a great prophet that our Lord returns, in chapter 6, to his own
town. They had heard of the miracles and here they have among them once again
their relative, friend, acquaintance. We can imagine the simplicity and modesty
of our Lord as he takes up a brief abode in the town. Presumably he stayed with
his mother in the family dwelling, occupying his room once again. There would
have been nothing of high airs about him. His would have been the same
simplicity and humility that characterized his life during the years of his
childhood, youth and adulthood there, prior to his leaving for the baptism of
John. He would have met his cousins — such as “James, Joseph, Judas and Simon” — and friends of the village. He would not have borne about him any studied manner
of “the great man.” Our Lord was too real for anything of that, too truthful,
too accessible. The marvel of the situation is that here was the great God, yet
a true man. And so he entered the Synagogue and stood up to read, speaking on
the text before him. The village was amazed! They had never seen the like in
speech and in wisdom. It would have been the most impressive public words ever
uttered in that tiny village.
That is to say, this man they knew so well suddenly manifested extraordinary
qualities exceeding all their experience of him. They knew him so well, but it
was now evident that they had not known him as well as they thought. There was a
great mystery at hand, and the mystery was Jesus. He was far more than they had
assumed. Were our Lord’s townsmen to step forward to acknowledge the new reality
being thus manifested before them, or were they to refuse? We read that “many
who heard him were amazed. Where did this man get these things? they asked.
What's this wisdom that has been given him, that he even does miracles! Isn't
this the carpenter? Isn't this Mary's son and the brother of James, Joseph,
Judas and Simon? Aren't his sisters here with us?” (Mark 6: 1-6). They had heard
of the miracles, and now they heard his inspired and heavenly words, expressing
a faultless wisdom the like of which Nazareth had never witnessed. It thereupon
placed them at the crossroads, and despite the manifest facts before them, we
read that “they took offence at him.” They refused confidence in him. Our Lord
came unto his own, and his own did not accept him. Observe just one detail,
though. St Mark tells us that “many” who heard him were amazed, and reacted in
this way. He does not say that this was so of “all.” Nazareth was a picture
encapsulating the general pattern. The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.
He came unto his own and his own did not receive him — but to all who did accept
him he gave the power to become children of God. The Nazarenes refused to accept
in Jesus anything more than the simple and humble man with whom they had long
been familiar. It looks like a common form of pride, a reluctance to acknowledge
One who was revealed to be higher and more than they. Sin jostled in and pushed
aside the Holy One. They refused to honour him beyond what was their comfortable
custom. As our Lord sadly commented, “Only in his home town, among his relatives
and in his own house is a prophet without honour.”
Ominously, it meant that “He could not do any miracles there, except lay his
hands on a few sick people and heal them.” Presumably, the few sick people were
among the few who did believe in him. Our Lord “was amazed at their lack of
faith” because the evidence was so manifest. There were his words of
unparalleled wisdom, his existing renown for miracles, and, of course, the moral
goodness in him that had all along been manifest to them and which would have
been the guarantee of his present truthfulness. Our Lord was amazed at their
refusal to believe. Its source was sin and its upshot was that they did not
receive the blessings of heaven available in him. Let us learn from this, and
resolve to make faith in Jesus Christ, who is true God and true man, the
foundation of life.
(E.J.Tyler)
A second reflection (1st reading)
"King David said to Joab and to the senior army officers who were with him, 'Now
go throughout the tribes of Israel from Dan to Beersheba and take a census of
the people; I wish to know the size of the population'..."
(2 Samuel 24:2)
Recovering a sense of sin We read in the second book of Samuel how David, at the
end of many years of achievement, looked with pride and satisfaction on his
kingdom. He decided to take a census. He wished to know the size of the
population, but the context indicates that the reason for this was his vanity:
he wished to display before himself and perhaps before many others what he had
done and the glory that was now his. For this the prophet Gad told him he was to
be punished by God. "So Gad went to David and told him, 'Are three years of
famine to come on you in your country' he said, 'or will you flee for three
months before your pursuing enemy, or would you rather have three days'
pestilence in your country? Now think.." (2 Samuel 24: 13)
David's punishment for taking the census may cause surprise
— it may seem out of
all proportion to what David did. Why was he being punished? The reason was that
he was arrogating to himself the glory due to God. God had chosen him, God had
made him a king, and God had built him up. It was God's work, and David chose to
regard it as his. His action was an offence against God, and this brought down
the punishment of God. Thus can reading Scripture can give a sense of the
reality and seriousness of sin as an offence against God. Our temptation is to
ignore or deny the evil of sin, and the story of punishment for sin as described
in Scripture educates us to its evil. Sin is an offence against the all-holy
God, and Scripture teaches us its consequences.
Pope Pius XII once said that the sin of the century is the loss of the sense of
sin. The story of David will help us recover it. 'I have committed a grave sin'
David said to Yahweh" (2 Samuel 24: 10). While David's sins are recounted in
Scripture, so too is his repentance. Let us imitate David in his readiness to
recognise his sinfulness, for this was part of his greatness.
In these times of violence and brutal, savage sexuality, we have to be rebels:
we refuse point blank to go with the tide, and become beasts.
We want to behave like children of God, like men and women who are on intimate
terms with their Father, who is in Heaven and who wants to be very close to —
inside! — each one of us.
(The Forge, no.15)
He it was who created the worlds; He it was who interposed of old time in the
affairs of the world, and showed Himself to be a living and observant God,
whether men thought of Him or not. Yet this great God condescended to come down
on earth from His heavenly throne, and to be born into His own world; showing
Himself as the Son of God in a new and second sense, in a created nature, as
well as in His eternal substance.
JHN, from the sermon ‘The Mystery of Godliness’ (1837)
(February 4) St. Joseph of Leonissa (1556-1612)
Joseph avoided the safe compromises by which people sometimes undercut the
gospel. Born at Leonissa in the Kingdom of Naples, Joseph joined the Capuchins
in his hometown in 1573. Denying himself hearty meals and comfortable quarters,
he prepared for ordination and a life of preaching. In 1587 he went to
Constantinople to take care of the Christian galley slaves working under Turkish
masters. Imprisoned for this work, he was warned not to resume it on his
release. He did and was again imprisoned and then condemned to death.
Miraculously freed, he returned to Italy where he preached to the poor and
reconciled feuding families as well as warring cities which had been at odds for
years. He was canonized in 1746.
In one of his sermons, Joseph says: "Every Christian must be a living book
wherein one can read the teaching of the gospel. This is what St. Paul says to
the Corinthians, ‘Clearly you are a letter of Christ which I have delivered, a
letter written not with ink, but by the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets
of stone but on tablets of flesh in the heart’ (2 Corinthians 3:3). Our heart is
the parchment; through my ministry the Holy Spirit is the writer because ‘my
tongue is like the pen of a ready scribe’ (Psalm 45:1)."
(AmericanCatholic.org)
Calling the Twelve to him, Jesus sent them out two by two and gave them
authority over evil spirits. These were his instructions: Take nothing for the
journey except a staff— no bread, no bag, no money in your belts. Wear sandals
but not an extra tunic. Whenever you enter a house, stay there until you leave
that town. And if any place will not welcome you or listen to you, shake the
dust off your feet when you leave, as a testimony against them. They went out
and preached that people should repent. They drove out many demons and anointed
many sick people with oil and healed them. (Mark 6:7-13)
The supreme workObserve two things about the world — it is there, and it seems
to be in constant danger of running down. That is to say, firstly, that the
world is the great and evident Fact before us. It is there, and it suggests
endless reflections on its own limited possession of the gift of being, and on
how radically incapable it is to explain the very fact of itself. It stands
before us as a given, while pointing aloft to the Unseen as its Source and
Foundation. But there is a second thing about the world, apart from the fact of
its being there. It is that it needs constant work if it is to be developed. Age
after age, mankind has been setting out each morning to work so as to maintain
and develop the world. This, indeed, is man’s vocation. He is called to work.
Throngs without number awake from their slumber and step forth for the day’s
work — some leaving for the field or the store, others remaining indoors to
attend to family and house. Age after age, mankind has been at work because this
heaving, throbbing, pulsating world depends on that daily work. Otherwise it
will not reach its term. Work is the key to the development of the world and to
the happiness of man who does the work. Now, while the world must be maintained
in existence by God and sustained in its development by man, there is a
radically new factor that imperils everything. At the root of the world — which
is to say in the heart and soul of man — sin has been introduced. It is a
terrible poison which has got into the bloodstream of the organism, into the sap
of the tree, and the result is that death has been introduced and has spread.
So, from the beginning, a new need has arisen and a new kind of work has had to
be done. It is the work of redemption. To do this work God himself stepped forth
from his home and entered the field of work in the world. He became man in order
to take away the sin of the world and save it from death. Not only does he work
to sustain the world; not only does he enable man to work at developing the
world’s natural potential; he is engaged in the most important work of all, the
work of redemption.
Thus it is that in our Gospel scene today
(Mark 6:7-13), our Lord sends his disciples out on
this most important of all works, the work of confronting sin and death with the
Saviour. “Calling the Twelve to him, Jesus sent them out two by two and gave
them authority over evil spirits.” Nowhere in the Old Testament do we read of a
prophet sending out his disciples with authority over evil spirits. Evil spirits
are barely mentioned, and where they are, man is not presented as possessed of
power over them. In this brief sentence of our Gospel today, it is as if the
fundamental condition of the world is laid bare, and the supreme work to be done
is presented. The world is very vulnerable to the infestation and influence of
evil spirits. This is because, in man, it has fallen into sin. It has chosen to
turn from God, and as a result its shield has gone. It stands without helmet,
without sword, without horse or armour. It is bereft of its original strength
and is entirely vulnerable to the Prince of this world, that grand Prince who
advances amid lies and smoke. The work is urgent and imperative. Man of every
generation must be saved and the remedy is at hand. The remedy is the person of
Jesus who has won the day by his sacrifice on Calvary. He calls his disciples to
his side for the work, and our Gospel today is an early, iconic instance of it.
“These were his instructions: Take nothing for the journey except a staff— no
bread, no bag, no money in your belts. Wear sandals but not an extra tunic.
Whenever you enter a house, stay there until you leave that town. And if any
place will not welcome you or listen to you, shake the dust off your feet when
you leave, as a testimony against them.” A great work was now launched and in
every generation that work must be going on anew, and we are all called to it.
Among all the works of life that we are asked to do, this is the greatest of
all, the work of our salvation and sanctification. “They went out and preached
that people should repent. They drove out many demons and anointed many sick
people with oil and healed them.” In all our work in life, this
work must be uppermost.
There are those whose vocation is to devote themselves exclusively to the person
of Christ and bringing him to the world. The vocation of most is to serve the
development of the world, the pinnacle and heart of which is man himself. They
live and work directly in and for the world. But they too must be instruments of
Christ bringing the world of their professional work and families into contact
with the Saviour. Whatever be our work, we ought all have as our goal bringing
man and the world before the feet of Jesus Christ the Saviour. In him there is
life, life in abundance.
(E.J.Tyler)
Second reflection
(on 1 Kings 2:1-4)
"As David's life drew to its close he laid this charge on his son Solomon, 'I am
going the way of all the earth. Be strong and show yourself a man. Observe the
injunctions of the Lord your God, following his ways and keeping his laws, his
commandments, his customs and his decrees, as it stands written in the Law of
Moses, so that you may be successful in all you do and undertake, so that the
Lord may fulfil the promise he made me, 'If your sons are careful how they
behave, and walk loyally before me with all their heart and soul, you shall
never lack for a man on the throne of Israel.'.." (1 Kings 2:1-4).
The world needs God David gave final advice to his son Solomon while bequeathing
to him a secure kingdom. His advice was the same as that which he had been given
and which he had learnt from hard personal experience: obey God and the kingdom
will be secure, for God will be doing the building. That is to say, goodness,
morality, and sanctity are necessary for human life in not only its private but
its public aspect as well. Solomon went on to receive great gifts from God for
the government of the kingdom, especially the gift of wisdom. But ultimately he
failed in the most important thing, obeying God. He was led to other idols
through being ensnared in sin, and this infidelity to God ultimately had
catastrophic results for the kingdom. As David his father had pointed out on his
deathbed, holiness was necessary for the kingdom.
A lesson for us who live in a very secular culture is that sin is the ruination
not only of one's personal life but of the life of society generally, be it in
government, in economics, or whatever. The fight against sin must be taken to
all aspects of life. God's will is to be the benchmark of not only one's private
life but of all levels of public and social life too. Sanctity and goodness is
of critical importance for the whole of human existence. There ought never be
the kind of separation between personal religion and the rest of life that
results in God and his holy will being ignored in social, economic and public
life. The solemn words of David to his son as given above show forth the
dependence of the earthly kingdom on the doing of God's holy will. God is
relevant to everything. So then, whatever be my calling in the world, I must
bring to my involvement in the world constant obedience to God's will. It is
only on this basis that the world itself, and those institutions I serve in my
daily work, will be secure.
(E.J.Tyler)
Meditate on this frequently: I am a Catholic, a child of Christ’s Church. He
brought me to birth in a home that is his, without my doing anything to deserve
it.
May each Christmas, as it comes, find us more and more like Him, who as at this
time became a little child for our sake, more simple-minded, more humble, more
holy, more affectionate, more resigned, more happy, more full of God.
JHN, from the sermon ‘The Mystery of Godliness’ (1837)
(February 5) Saint Agatha, virgin and martyr (d. 251?)
As in the case of Agnes, another virgin-martyr of the early Church, almost
nothing is historically certain about this saint except that she was martyred in
Sicily during the persecution of Emperor Decius in 251. Legend has it that
Agatha, like Agnes, was arrested as a Christian, tortured and sent to a house of
prostitution to be mistreated. She was preserved from being violated, and was
later put to death. She is claimed as the patroness of both Palermo and Catania.
The year after her death, the stilling of an eruption of Mt. Etna was attributed
to her intercession. As a result, apparently, people continued to ask her
prayers for protection against fire.
When Agatha was arrested, the legend says, she prayed: “Jesus Christ, Lord of
all things! You see my heart, you know my desires. Possess all that I am—you
alone. I am your sheep; make me worthy to overcome the devil.” And in prison:
“Lord, my creator, you have protected me since I was in the cradle. You have
taken me from the love of the world and given me patience to suffer. Now receive
my spirit.” (AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today: Sirach 47:2-11; Psalm 18:31, 47 and 50, 51; Mark 6:14-29
King Herod heard about this, for Jesus' name had become well known. Some were
saying, John the Baptist has been raised from the dead, and that is why
miraculous powers are at work in him.
Others said, He is Elijah. And still others claimed, He is a prophet, like one
of the prophets of long ago. But when Herod heard this, he said, John, the man I
beheaded, has been raised from the dead! For Herod himself had given orders to
have John arrested, and he had him bound and put in prison. He did this because
of Herodias, his brother Philip's wife, whom he had married.
For John had been saying to Herod, It is not lawful for you to have your
brother's wife. So Herodias nursed a grudge against John and wanted to kill him.
But she was not able to, because Herod feared John and protected him, knowing
him to be a righteous and holy man. When Herod heard John, he was greatly
puzzled; yet he liked to listen to him. Finally the opportune time came. On his
birthday Herod gave a banquet for his high officials and military commanders and
the leading men of Galilee. When the daughter of Herodias came in and danced,
she pleased Herod and his dinner guests. The king said to the girl, Ask me for
anything you want, and I'll give it to you. And he promised her with an oath,
Whatever you ask I will give you, up to half my kingdom. She went out and said
to her mother, What shall I ask for? The head of John the Baptist, she answered.
At once the girl hurried in to the king with the request: I want you to give me
right now the head of John the Baptist on a platter. The king was greatly
distressed, but because of his oaths and his dinner guests, he did not want to
refuse her. So he immediately sent an executioner with orders to bring John's
head. The man went, beheaded John in the prison, and brought back his head on a
platter. He presented it to the girl, and she gave it to her mother. On hearing
of this, John's disciples came and took his body and laid it in a tomb. (Mark 6:14-29)
My FreedomOne of the notable features of modern Western society has been the
clash of two dominant theories, a liberalism that expresses itself in
capitalism, and a centralism that expresses itself in socialism. The one
stresses the free initiative of individuals, while the other stresses a central
authority for the protection of individuals. It could be said that one point at
issue is the question of one’s environment. Liberalism hopes for an environment
that gives the widest scope for personal freedom, while socialism strives to
build an environment that provides the needs of all. The dangers and
possibilities of both are reasonably clear, and the challenge for each is to
keep everything in due balance. But let us take the case of one of the founders
of modern Socialism, Robert Owen. Perhaps the greatest Christian thinker of 19th
century Britain, John Henry Newman, had a brother (Charles) who abandoned
Christian belief and became a socialist — more particularly, a follower of
Robert Owen. Robert Owen (1771–1858) built his socialist theory on a few
philosophical pillars, one of which was the denial of free will. No one, Owen
thought, was responsible for his will and his own actions, because his whole
character is formed independently of himself; people are products of their
environment. The point I wish to highlight here is this stress on man’s
environment because this stress has become common in much of modern thought.
There is no doubt that environment is critically important, especially for those
whose power of free and responsible choice is yet to develop — such as the
young. But the exercise of personal freedom, whatever be one’s environment, is
of critical importance if a person is to flourish — and our Gospel passage today
(Mark 6:
14-29) illustrates this. In the case of Herod we see what happens when environment
shapes human action. Herod had the advantage of frequent contact with John.
Ironically, he was, we might say, in the best of environments. But what
happened?
We read that, with John imprisoned, “Herod feared John and protected him,
knowing him to be a righteous and holy man. When Herod heard John, he was
greatly puzzled; yet he liked to listen to him” (Mark 6:20). Herod, according to
St Mark’s account, had some redeeming features, certainly more than Herodias his
wife. He had something of a conscience, and recognised and had a certain respect
for holiness. But consider how easily and how greatly Herod fell: he suddenly
had John executed. While the event was a spiritual triumph for John the Baptist,
it was a catastrophic moral fall for Herod. He had been in one environment but
fell when he was in another. What brought about this fall? It was the fear of
what others would think. We read that “Herod was deeply distressed but, thinking
of the oaths he had sworn and of his guests, he was reluctant to break his word
to her. So the king at once sent one of the bodyguard with orders to bring
John's head. The man went off and beheaded him in prison” (Mark 6: 26-27). That
is to say, the pressure of human respect and personal vanity in the presence of
others led him to violence against a person of great holiness, one whom he knew,
frequently heard, and indeed admired. Herod had before him a person of very high
holiness. This shows dramatically that no matter what graces are offered, no
matter how near God may be, one must exercise one’s own freedom and be vigilant
against sin. A good environment is not enough to produce goodness of life. Let
us take an even more serious scenario. Consider the familiarity and constant
company Judas was granted with Christ himself. What an environment this was!
Judas was counted as one of the personal friends of God the Son made man. He had
the blessing and the training to be a direct associate in the work of Jesus
Christ. How could such a person have ever gone wrong? Yet he went so terribly
wrong, doing in his own way what Herod had done to John. He betrayed Jesus
Christ into the hands of his executioners. He did not exercise his personal
freedom against sin.
Sin can bring anyone down if it is entertained, however favoured be the
environment. Sin brought down angels even in the environment of heaven itself.
We must be constantly on guard against sin, this enemy ever ancient and ever
near. Our power of free choice is so important. It cannot be replaced by a
dependence on the right environment. Herod was in the right environment, as was
Judas, as was Lucifer and the demons in the beginning. We must choose aright,
choosing to be vigilant against sin and its occasions. Every day let us examine
our conscience. Let us guard against sin, especially the sin we are particularly
prone to commit. So then, now I begin!
Remind everyone (and especially all those fathers and mothers, who call
themselves Christians) that a vocation, a call from God, is a grace from the
Lord, a choice made by the divine goodness, a reason for holy pride, a call to
serve all joyously for the love of Jesus Christ.
(The Forge, no.17)
This is a day of joy: it is good to be joyful—it is wrong to be otherwise. For
one day we may put off the burden of our polluted
consciences, and rejoice in
the perfections of our Saviour Christ, without thinking of ourselves, without
thinking of our own miserable uncleanness; but contemplating His glory, His
righteousness, His purity, His majesty, His overflowing love. We may rejoice in
the Lord, and in all His creatures see Him. We may enjoy His temporal bounty,
and partake the pleasant things of earth with Him in our thoughts; we may
rejoice in our friends for His sake, loving them most especially because He has
loved them.
(February 6) Saint Paul Miki, martyr, and his companions, martyrs (d. 1597)
Nagasaki, Japan, is familiar to Americans as the city on which the second atomic
bomb was dropped, immediately killing over
37,000 people. Three and a half
centuries before, 26 martyrs of Japan were crucified on a hill, now known as the
Holy Mountain, overlooking Nagasaki. Among them were priests, brothers and
laymen, Franciscans, Jesuits and members of the Secular Franciscan Order; there
were catechists, doctors, simple artisans and servants, old men and innocent
children—all united in a common faith and love for Jesus and his Church. Brother
Paul Miki, a Jesuit and a native of Japan, has become the best known among the
martyrs of Japan. While hanging upon a cross Paul Miki preached to the people
gathered for the execution: “The sentence of judgment says these men came to
Japan from the Philippines, but I did not come from any other country. I am a
true Japanese. The only reason for my being killed is that I have taught the
doctrine of Christ. I certainly did teach the doctrine of Christ. I thank God it
is for this reason I die. I believe that I am telling only the truth before I
die. I know you believe me and I want to say to you all once again: Ask Christ
to help you to become happy. I obey Christ. After Christ’s example I forgive my
persecutors. I do not hate them. I ask God to have pity on all, and I hope my
blood will fall on my fellow men as a fruitful rain.”
When missionaries returned to Japan in the 1860s, at first they found no trace
of Christianity. But after establishing themselves they found that thousands of
Christians lived around Nagasaki and that they had secretly preserved the faith.
Beatified in 1627, the martyrs of Japan were finally canonized in 1862.
(AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today: 1 Kings 3:4-13; Psalm 119: 9-14; Mark 6:30-34
The apostles gathered round Jesus and reported to him all they had done and
taught. Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not
even have a chance to eat, he said to them, Come with me by yourselves to a
quiet place and get some rest. So they went away by themselves in a boat to a
solitary place. But many who saw them leaving recognised them and ran on foot
from all the towns and got there ahead of them. When Jesus landed and saw a
large crowd, he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a
shepherd. So he began teaching them many things. (Mark 6: 30-34)
God and man Let us observe in our mind’s eye the spectacle of Jesus surrounded
by his disciples, who were telling him of “all they had done and taught.” There
is a marvellous bond between them. They are all in the midst of heavy and
unceasing work and we read that “so many people were coming and going that they
did not even have a chance to eat”. They were all hungry and tired, doubtlessly
including our Lord himself. We have various glimpses from the Gospels of just
how tired our Lord was at times. On one occasion (John 4:6) the band reaches
Jacob’s Well at Sychar. Our Lord is exhausted, and the disciples leave him
resting at the Well while they go to buy provisions. On another they are out on
the Lake in the midst of a heavy storm, and our Lord is in a deep sleep. In our
scene today our Lord determines that they will all leave for “a quiet place and
get some rest. So they went away by themselves in a boat to a solitary place.”
These simple events surely remind us of the wonder of the Incarnation. The great
God became truly man. It is the greatest thing in the history of the world, the
premier mystery, that at a certain point in history and in a certain locale,
there was a man who was the living, infinite God. We must not become used to
such a thought and take it for granted. The Church confesses that Jesus Christ
transcends all other figures in history and certainly all other founders of
religions. He is truly God and truly man. He possesses not just a human nature,
perfectly developed though it assuredly was. He is not just the greatest man of
all. He is first, foremost, and only, a divine person — but with two natures. He
is a divine person with a divine nature who has taken to himself a human nature
as well. This human nature, this manhood which is his, is not to be in any way
confused with the divine nature which is properly and in the first instance his
by virtue of his being a divine person. Both his divine nature and his assumed
human nature are distinct from one another and yet united in his Person — the
Person of the Word. The mind marvels at the thought, but thus it was.
So it is that his weariness and his hunger as evidenced in our Gospel passage
today (Mark 6: 30-34) and in various other passages are to be attributed to his
divine Person. In the humanity of Jesus all things — his miracles, his
sufferings and his death — must be attributed to his divine Person which acts by
means of his assumed human nature. It is God the Son who is hungry and tired
because it is God the Son who is this man. It is as man that God the Son is
acting in these circumstances of intense work and pressure from the crowds, as
in today’s Gospel. He assumed a human body animated by a rational human soul.
With his human intellect Jesus learned many things by way of experience — such
as that the crowds had run ahead of him to meet him when they landed on the
other side. At the same time, as man, the Son of God had an intimate and
immediate knowledge of God his heavenly Father. He likewise understood the
secret thoughts of people and knew fully the eternal plans which he had come to
reveal. He had a divine will and a human will. In his earthly life, the Son of
God humanly willed all that he had divinely decided with the Father and the Holy
Spirit for our salvation. The human will of Christ followed without opposition
or reluctance the divine will or, in other words, it was subject to it. Jesus
Christ assumed a true human body by means of which the invisible God became
visible to ordinary man. This is the reason why Christ can be represented and
venerated in sacred images. If the burial Shroud of Turin is to be regarded as
authentic, we have on that Shroud an image of the incarnate God left to human
posterity by Jesus Christ himself on rising from the dead. Moreover, Jesus
Christ knew us and loved us with a human heart. In our Gospel scene today we see
the very human heart of Christ being revealed. He shows deep concern for his
disciples, leading them across the Lake for rest and recreation. Then on
alighting, his heart is filled with compassion for the crowds and he gives
himself over to their service. His heart, pierced on the Cross for our
salvation, is the symbol of that infinite love with which he loves the Father
and each one of us.
Let us never take for granted Jesus Christ. He is the Second Divine Person of
the most holy Trinity. He is the only-begotten Son of the Father. He became man
for us and our salvation, truly and fully man — and much more so, in a sense,
than are we. That is to say, his humanity was full and complete. It was perfect,
whereas ours is marred, wounded, crippled and wounded by sin. In this sense he
was not only fully God, but fully and perfectly man. Let us be like Thomas
before the risen Jesus, and bow down before him with the words, “My Lord and my
God!”
(E.J.Tyler)
Further reading: The Catechism of the Catholic Church, no.470-478
(Son of God
and man)
Second reflection (on 1 Kings 3:4-13)
Be
vigilant against temptation There is a most memorable event in the life of Solomon the son of King David. It
occurred at the
beginning of his reign. God appeared to him in a dream during the night and
said, 'Ask what you would like me to give to you.' Solomon's answer was most
pleasing to God. 'Give your servant a heart to understand how to discern between
good and evil, for who could govern this people of yours that is so great?' God
answered his prayer with abundance. 'I give you a heart wise and shrewd as none
before you had and none will have after you.' (1 Kings 3:4-13)
God endowed Solomon with immense gifts of wisdom. He was a person of great
promise. But in the final analysis Solomon was a great disappointment. Not only
did he overburden his people, but he abandoned God, turned to the idols of his
women, and became ensnared in lust. In view of his gifts, we may surmise that he
made choices that were contrary to what he clearly saw he should do. They were
clear-sighted moral failures, perhaps the accumulated result of countless small
infidelities. This is a great lesson. Being very gifted, spiritually gifted,
will not ensure moral goodness, let alone holiness. Even having an abundance of
so important a gift as wisdom will ensure nothing unless it is accompanied by
humility, moral vigilance and resolve. We all have our gifts, natural and
supernatural. But we must be vigilant against temptation and the occasions of
sin, with a humble awareness of our weaknesses and need of God. It is on God's
power that we must rely, while putting to good use in action the gifts we have
been given.
Please echo these words for me: it is no “sacrifice” for parents when God asks
them for their children. Neither, for those he calls, is it a sacrifice to
follow him.
It is, on the contrary, an immense honour, a reason for a great and holy pride,
a mark of predilection, a very special affection that God has shown at a
particular time, but which has been in his mind from all eternity.
(The Forge, no.18)
Let the breathings of my soul be with Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Let me live in
obscurity, out of the world and the world’s thought, with them. Let me look to
them in sorrow and in joy, and live and die in their sweet sympathy.
Prayers today:
Come, let us worship the Lord. Let us
bow down in the presence of our maker, for he is the Lord our God
(Psalm 94:1)
Father, watch over your
family and keep us safe in your care, for all our hope is in you. We ask this
through Christ our Lord.
(February 7) St. Colette (1381-1447)
Colette did not seek the limelight, but in doing God’s will
she certainly attracted a lot of attention. Colette was born in Corbie, France.
At 21 she began to follow the Third Order Rule and became an anchoress, a woman
walled into a room whose only opening was a window into a church. After four
years of prayer and penance in this cell, she left it. With the approval and
encouragement of the pope, she joined the Poor Clares and reintroduced the
primitive Rule of St. Clare in the 17 monasteries she established. Her sisters
were known for their poverty—they rejected any fixed income—and for their
perpetual fast. Colette’s reform movement spread to other countries and is still
thriving today. Colette was canonized in 1807.
Colette began her reform during the time of the Great Western
Schism (1378-1417) when three men claimed to be pope and thus divided Western
Christianity. The 15th century in general was a very difficult one for the
Western Church. Abuses long neglected cost the Church dearly in the following
century; the prayers of Colette and her followers may have lessened the Church’s
troubles in the 16th century. In any case, Colette’s reform indicated the entire
Church’s need to follow Christ more closely. In her spiritual testament, Colette
told her sisters: "We must faithfully keep what we have promised. If through
human weakness we fail, we must always without delay arise again by means of
holy penance, and give our attention to leading a good life and to dying a holy
death. May the Father of all mercy, the Son by his holy passion, and the Holy
Spirit, source of peace, sweetness and love, fill us with their consolation.
Amen."
(AmericanCatholic.org)
One day as Jesus was standing by the
Lake of Gennesaret, with the people crowding round him and listening to the word
of God, he saw at the water's edge two boats, left there by the fishermen, who
were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to
Simon, and asked him to put out a little from shore. Then he sat down and taught
the people from the boat. When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, Put
out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch. Simon answered, Master,
we've worked hard all night and haven't caught anything. But because you say so,
I will let down the nets. When they had done so, they caught such a large number
of fish that their nets began to break. So they signalled to their partners in
the other boat to come and help them, and they came and filled both boats so
full that they began to sink. When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus' knees
and said, Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man! For he and all his
companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken, and so were
James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon's partners. Then Jesus said to Simon,
Don't be afraid; from now on you will catch men. So they pulled their boats up
on shore, left everything and followed him. (Luke 5:1-11)
Heaven on earth As is the case with every scene of the
Gospels, Jesus Christ is the object of attention in our Gospel passage today. It
is the Good News of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. The people were all crowding
around him to hear the word of God and he got into Simon Peter’s boat and,
seated as a Teacher, spoke to the people from there. This image of Christ
teaching from the boat of Simon is full of significance. From within this boat
Simon observed our Lord at his ministry and the need of the crowds for him.
Jesus then directed Simon to take the boat out to deeper water and to let the
nets down for a catch. In the line of the prophets, our Lord was about to give a
sign. Simon, despite having been fishing all night without success, obeyed the
word of Christ and immediately a huge catch was made. It was an obvious and
unmistakable act of divine power effortlessly effected by the Man before him.
Let us notice, though, the response of Simon Peter — a man of admirable
religious instincts. His response is the true and proper response to the power
displayed by Jesus Christ. It was not just wonder and awe at great power, but a
sin-stricken recognition of holiness. In his famous work on The Idea of
the Holy (Das Heilige, 1917), Rudolf Otto describes the
experience of the divine (the numinous) as that of a mysterium tremendum et
fascinans. The Holy is a terrifying and fascinating mystery. While in Otto’s
account the distance of God from sin is an important element, in the response of
Simon Peter to Christ’s act of power it is absolutely at the forefront. Simon
sees in the Christ’s miracle a revelation of divine holiness. It is as if heaven
is open before sinful man and the distance from him is made manifest. Jesus is
revealed as utterly other, not merely in the degree of his power but in his
distance from sin. His power reveals a holiness that in some way cannot be near
to sin. All Simon can do at the sight of the catch is prostrate himself before
Christ and ask that he leave him, for he is a sinner.
It must also be said that inasmuch as our Lord would say to his disciples that
in seeing him they saw the Father, Christ’s power also shows the holiness of the
Father. It is a revelation of heaven, erupting on the scene before Simon Peter.
The All-holy Father who is in heaven is brought close to sinful man by the
powerful deeds of Christ. Simon, full of a sense of his own sinfulness and moral
poverty, can scarcely bear it. In this sense, Christ himself is the mysterium
tremendum, all-powerful and ominous before sin. The devils cannot bear him.
And yet Simon loves him dearly. In Jesus Christ, heaven is revealed and is at
hand. It is close, and not far away. It is winning and irresistibly attractive,
because this revelation of power is simultaneously a revelation of mercy for the
one who wishes to repent. The power of Christ is holy before sin, and merciful
towards the needy and repentant. Blessings and gifts come to man when Christ
acts in power — and so it was that Simon’s boat was suddenly full to the brim,
with the nets beginning to break up. Christ is man’s dearest Friend, the Friend
who wishes man to be his friend, and not just one who is cowering with guilt
before him. He is immensely fascinans, attractive to man who by nature
longs for the divine. Man longs for heaven. It draws him from the depths of his
soul, and here in Jesus Christ is heaven revealed as the object of the heart’s
longing. And so the appeal comes from the lips of Christ to Simon who is
prostrate before the Holy One. “Do not be afraid; from now on you will catch
men.” Simon is called to be the friend of Jesus and his direct associate in the
work of heaven: the saving of souls. And what is it to be saved? It is nothing
other than to be the friend of Jesus Christ. This is the Kingdom of heaven, now
and forever. The God of heaven is majesty, power and holiness — and he hates
sin. Most true. But in his acts of power and holiness he is revealed as very
near in his love and mercy. He does not expel. He calls to friendship.
When we address our Father who is in heaven, we are addressing the God who
transcends all. He is majesty, power, utter holiness and as such is above and
beyond the world and its sin. But the joy of the Gospel is that in Jesus Christ,
heaven has come down to earth and is with us now. Jesus Christ is God-with-us,
Emmanuel, and he dwells with the Father and the Holy Spirit in the hearts of the
just. Heaven is our true homeland towards which we are moving in hope while here
on earth. At the same time, hidden with Christ in God, we live by love already
in this homeland.
(E.J.Tyler)
Further reading: The Catechism of the Catholic Church,
no.2794-2796 (Our Father in heaven)
"'Master,' Simon replied 'we worked hard
all night long and caught nothing, but if you say so, I will pay out the nets.'
And when they had done this they netted such a huge number of fish.."
(Luke 5:1-11)
By God's powerMan has throughout his history been very
aware of his weakness and need. He gets sick and hungry, his work often lacks
success, his life is beset with many uncertainties, disappointments and
tragedies. And there is often little he can do about it. So he
characteristically looks to God for the power to attain his goals. In today’s
Gospel, Simon tells our Lord that he and his companions had caught nothing. It
is a picture of the man of history. But at the word of Jesus, Simon cast out the
nets once again. This time the result of his action was totally different. Simon
was given a display of the power of God. The rest of his life would be lived
relying on this divine power for the fulfilment of his life’s work, which was to
fish for men.
All too often we forget that it is only by God’s power that we can do anything,
and it is to his power that we had best appeal. In giving this sign to Simon who
would be the head of his Church, Christ wished to give to him and to all of us
who are members of his Church a great lesson: look to the power of God for good
results in the work God wants us to do. Look to God, while doing our very best.
It will be good work if we allow Christ to act in and through our own hard work.
Notice this: our Lord did not himself throw out Simon’s net: Simon did that. So
Simon played his part in the action, but its good effect was due to the power of
Christ. “Unless the Lord build the house they labour in vain who build it”
(Psalm 127:1).
There is a further point. We read in the gospel how our Lord got into Simon’s
boat and taught from there. Surely this may be taken as a symbol of the presence
of Christ in the barque of Peter, and that barque is the Church founded by
Christ on Peter. You are Peter, he would say to Simon, on this rock I will built
my Church. Peter is the representative of the invisible Shepherd who is Christ.
In shaping our whole life according to the Church’s teachings coming to us in
the teachings of the Pope and bishops united to him, we are being guided by
Christ who teaches, seated unseen, in the barque of Simon. It is there that we
have constant access to the power and the grace of God which will help us make
the catch in life God means us to make. The power of God that we need for our
life’s work for Christ is available in the Church of which Peter is head. Let us
always listen to the Pope, the successor of Peter, who speaks on Christ’s
behalf. He has been granted the power to bind and loose, and he holds in his
hand the keys to the Kingdom of heaven.
A third reflection on the Gospel of the Fifth Sunday
in Ordinary Time C
"But Jesus said to Simon, 'Do not be
afraid; from now on it is men you will catch.' Then bringing their boats back to
land, they left everything and followed him." (Luke
5:1-11)
One’s calling Every human being feels or should feel
the call to do good and to be good, arising from his natural conscience. This
call of the conscience is naturally interpreted as a call to do what God wants,
because God is instinctively sensed as speaking in the voice of conscience. The
Christian will understand this as the call and voice of Christ. Now, Christ’s
call is radical and is addressed to all who wish to come after him: ‘Whoever
wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.’
This general call is to be lived out in different ways by different members of
His Church. We should all be listening for that same call in our hearts. We know
how to listen in to a television set, but do we know how to tune in to God’s
call? Are there any guidelines to keep us from following something unreal? Yes,
there are. Firstly, there are examples of genuine calls from God by those who
have had them, such as those in Scripture, like the prophet Isaiah and
especially the example of Simon Peter in today’s Gospel. There are also the
calls received by the saints in the Church’s history. A familiarity with the
calls of God to those who have responded to them will help us recognize and
respond to our own calls from God.
Then there are principles to guide us in hearing our own call and making a right
decision. One can sense a call to the priesthood or the religious life, or to
marriage, or to the single life as being an opportunity to serve God and man in
a special way. Whatever be the call we receive from God, when we find our call
or find ourselves in the service of God in a particular vocation, we have
arrived at our life’s journey. Simon Peter, in hearing the call of Christ to
follow him and be a fisher of men, and then in accepting it, had arrived at his
life’s journey. There are different ways this call is heard. It can draw a
person like a magnet, as when Jesus said to Matthew, “Follow me.” Matthew got
right up, left all, and followed Jesus. Another way is when a person is torn by
different attractions, requiring that the issue be settled by prayer and a good
life. Again, another is when a person sits down calmly and prayerfully and
reasons out the meaning of his life, what he should do with it, what he thinks
would please God, and then makes a decision which is in accord with his best
lights. When he comes to what he thinks is the right decision, he offers it to
God, and if he finds a lasting sweetness and peace of heart in this decision, he
has reason to hope that it pleases God and that he has “come home”, as it were.
If not, he keeps searching. He may ask himself, What would our Lady do if she
were in my shoes? When I am lying on my deathbed, about to go home to God, what
will I wish I had decided at this moment?
Each of us, then, has this question to answer: To what am I called? If we are
already in a permanent state of life, whether of marriage or the religious life
or the priesthood, the answer is that we are to offer to God our total service
within that vocation we have. Holiness is found in being faithful to the duties
of the state of life we have chosen, since that is what pleases God. Christ and
the church need the vocations of all: priests and religious and the enormous
potential of the laity, involving the whole people of God in the work of God.
Christ’s lay faithful bear witness to the Gospel through their life of service
in the spirit and manner of Christ. In their everyday life at home and at work,
wherever, by means of their Christ-like service they are called to make the
world more what God wants it to be. So then, what have I done for Christ? What
am I doing for Christ? What shall I do for Christ? Can I do anything to see that
people have jobs and housing, or to stop the spread of abortion, or to bring
people together in friendship in my home, workplace or parish, or to influence
the political process for family-oriented legislation? What can I do to teach
Christian doctrine, or to improve my parish spiritually by building up this or
that element in its life and making it a Eucharistic community in which Christ
reigns?
Let us ponder the call of Simon Peter and appreciate that this call is addressed
by Christ to each one of us. What, then, have I done for Christ to this point?
What am I doing for him now? What shall I do for him in the future?
Be grateful to your parents for bringing you into this world, thus enabling you
to become a child of God. And be all the more grateful if it was they who placed
in your soul the first seeds of faith and piety, of your Christian way, or of
your vocation.
(The Forge, no.19)
Such, then, is the law of Christ’s kingdom, such the paradox which is seen in
its history. It belongs to the poor in spirit; it belongs to the persecuted; it
is possessed by the meek; it is sustained by the patient. It conquers by
suffering; it advances by retiring; it is made wise through foolishness.
JHN, from the sermon ‘Sanctity the Token of the Christian Empire’ (1842)
(February 8) St. Josephine Bakhita (c. 1868-1947)
For many years, Josephine Bakhita was a slave but her spirit was always free and
eventually that spirit prevailed. Born in Olgossa in
the Darfur region of
southern Sudan, Josephine was kidnapped at the age of seven, sold into slavery
and given the name Bakhita, which
means fortunate. She was re-sold several
times, finally in 1883 to Callisto Legnani, Italian consul in Khartoum, Sudan.
Two years later he took Josephine to Italy and gave her to his friend Augusto
Michieli. Bakhita became babysitter to Mimmina Michieli, whom she accompanied to
Venice's Institute of the Catechumens, run by the Canossian Sisters. While
Mimmina was being instructed, Josephine felt drawn to the Catholic Church. She
was baptized and confirmed in 1890, taking the name Josephine. When the
Michielis returned from Africa and wanted to take Mimmina and Josephine back
with them, the future saint refused to go. During the ensuing court case, the
Canossian sisters and the patriarch of Venice intervened on Josephine's behalf.
The judge concluded that since slavery was illegal in Italy, she had actually
been free since 1885. Josephine entered the Institute of St. Magdalene of Canossa in 1893 and made her profession three years later. In 1902, she was
transferred to the city of Schio (northeast of Verona), where she assisted her
religious community through cooking, sewing, embroidery and welcoming visitors
at the door. She soon became well loved by the children attending the sisters'
school and the local citizens. She once said, "Be good, love the Lord, pray for
those who do not know Him. What a great grace it is to know God!" The first
steps toward her beatification began in 1959. She was beatified in 1992 and
canonized eight years later.
During his homily at her canonization Mass in St. Peter's Square, Pope John Paul
II said that in St. Josephine Bakhita, "We find a shining advocate of genuine
emancipation. The history of her life inspires not passive acceptance but the
firm resolve to work effectively to free girls and women from oppression and
violence, and to return them to their dignity in the full exercise of their
rights." (AmericanCatholic.org)
When Jesus and his disciples had crossed
over, they landed at Gennesaret and anchored there. As soon as they got out of
the boat, people recognised Jesus. They ran throughout that whole region and
carried the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. And wherever he went —
into villages, towns or countryside — they placed the sick in the market-places.
They begged him to let them touch even the edge of his cloak, and all who
touched him were healed. (Mark 6:53-56)
Mystery made present One of the great religious minds of the
nineteenth century was John Henry Newman (1801-1890), author of numerous volumes
of religious writings of various kinds and over thirty volumes of correspondence
— much of the correspondence having great religious and theological
significance. In 1864 he produced his account of the history of his religious
opinions, the Apologia pro Vita Sua. In that book he identifies a key facet of
his mind: its propensity to see the world as a veil hiding and yet manifesting
the Unseen beyond. His tendency was to notice anything that indicated the fact
and the presence of the Supernatural — which is to say, the divine. As a result
of this, he responded with alacrity to a philosophy which viewed the material
world as a kind of sacrament of an unseen realm — such as the philosophy of
Clement of Alexandria in the early Church, and of Bishop Butler in the
eighteenth century. An attitude such as this runs very counter to what has
become typical of the modern mind. The modern mind trusts the reality of the
natural and visible world, and distrusts talk of the supernatural. We of the
modern age tend to espouse Naturalism. Nature is all there is, and all basic
truths are truths of nature. There is nothing immaterial. This assumption is
vastly different from that of mankind in the broad sweep of history — and it is
very different from what we see in today’s Gospel. In today’s Gospel we read
that as soon as Jesus and his disciples got out of the boat, “people recognised
Jesus. They ran throughout that whole region and carried the sick on mats to
wherever they heard he was. And wherever he went— into villages, towns or
countryside— they placed the sick in the market-places. They begged him to let
them touch even the edge of his cloak, and all who touched him were healed”
(Mark 6:53-56). The people recognized that
in Jesus the divine was being revealed. God was revealing his power and his
goodness. Behind the veil of the humanity of Jesus an invisible mystery was
present.
The people did not know the extent to
which Jesus of Nazareth was a revelation of the unseen God, but it was obvious
to them that to some extent he was — as were the great prophets before him. I
remember years ago when I was giving a religion class in a state high school, I
asked the students before me how they would describe God. One boy said that God
was a good spirit. So for him, two features stood out in the idea of God: he was
not material, and he was good. If questioned just a little more, he would
probably also have said that God is powerful. In our Gospel passage today, the
people knew that God was the great unseen Spirit, that he was good, and that he
was powerful. He was working in and through Jesus of Nazareth, especially in his
healings. Now, the entire life of Jesus Christ is a revelation of the unseen
God. As Pope Benedict XVI often repeated, Jesus Christ is the face of God. What
was visible in the earthly life of Jesus leads us to the invisible mystery of
his divine sonship: “whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9), he
told his disciples. Furthermore, even though salvation comes completely from the
Cross and Resurrection, the entire life of Christ is a mystery of redemption.
Everything that Jesus did, said, and suffered had for its aim the salvation of
fallen human beings and the restoration of their vocation as children of God. In
this sense the life of Christ was a Mystery: the Mystery that has been hidden in
God and now revealed to us. Thus it was that St John could write in the Prologue
of his Gospel that “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. We saw his glory,
the glory of the only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth” (John
1:14). The humanity of Jesus Christ both veiled and manifested the great God,
the Mystery of mysteries. So it is that every Gospel scene, whether it be of
Christ in his infancy, Christ as in our scene today, Christ on the Cross, or
Christ risen, is full of wonder for the Christian. The Gospels are the heart of
the inspired Scriptures for they present the Mystery visible before us.
We have a far fuller understanding of
Jesus Christ than did those of our Gospel scene today, who hurried to him from
all directions seeking from him the blessing of a divine healing. We know who he
really is and what he has really done for mankind. We, more than they, have
every reason to hurry to him from all directions seeking the heavenly blessings
he has come to give. Let us never lapse into a form of Naturalism. It is the
snare of modern times. The world is very real, but far more real is what is
behind it: the triune God, brought to man by Jesus Christ our Saviour.
(E.J.Tyler)
Further reading: The Catechism of the Catholic Church,
no.512-519 (Christ’s life a Mystery)
"Having made the crossing, Jesus came to
land at Gennesaret and tied up. No sooner had they stepped out of the boat than
people recognised him, and started hurrying all through the countryside and
brought the sick on stretchers to wherever they heard he was. And wherever he
went, to village, or town, or farm, they laid down the sick in the open spaces,
begging him to let them touch even the fringe of his cloak. And all those who
touched him were cured." (Mark 6: 53-56)
Christ is in you The people recognised
our Lord's compassion and his power to save from incurable suffering. He did
whatever they asked of him in terms of their suffering
— all they needed to do
was come to him and ask. That was then. Where is Christ in respect to suffering
now? St Paul says that as a result of our baptism Christ is in us, our hope of
glory. Our calling is to co-operate with the work of grace in being transformed
into Christ. One fundamental facet of this is our response to the suffering of
others. Every occasion in which we see someone suffering presents the
opportunity to allow Christ to act in and through us, as if he himself were
before that suffering person. As if he were there? How can this be? How can this
be? Christ dwells within us if we are in the state of grace. He is actually
there, before that suffering individual, in our own person. He is there just as
truly as he was before the suffering persons who were brought to him in our
Gospel today.
But are we fit instruments of his
presence and action? Is he able to act through us, bringing help and relief to
that suffering person through our own compassionate and effective response? Or
do we constitute an obstacle to his desire to help that person, because of our
lack of compassion? A great help to growth in Christ-like kindness is the
constant remembrance of Christ's presence within us. We should have the daily
ambition to allow him to take over our whole person, such that under the
prompting of the Holy Spirit we respond to suffering with the spirit of mercy
that he constantly showed. Thus the suffering person will recognise Christ in
us, just as we should recognise the suffering Christ in him. "If you do it to
the least of these, you do it to me." As St Paul writes, Christ is in you, your
hope of glory.
(E.J.Tyler)
There are many people around you, and you have no right to be an obstacle to
their spiritual good, to their eternal happiness.
—You are under an obligation to be a saint. You must not let God down for having
chosen you. Neither must you let those around you down: they expect so much from
your Christian life.
(The Forge, no.20)
(February 9) St. Jerome Emiliani (1481?-1537)
A careless and irreligious soldier for the city-state of Venice, Jerome was
captured in a skirmish at an outpost town and chained in a dungeon. In prison
Jerome had a lot of time to think, and he gradually learned how to pray. When he
escaped, he returned to Venice where he took charge of the education of his
nephews—and began his own studies for the priesthood. In the years after his
ordination, events again called Jerome to a decision and a new lifestyle. Plague
and famine swept northern Italy. Jerome began caring for the sick and feeding
the hungry at his own expense. While serving the sick and the poor, he soon
resolved to devote himself and his property solely to others, particularly to
abandoned children. He founded three orphanages, a shelter for penitent
prostitutes and a hospital. Around 1532 Jerome and two other priests established
a congregation, the Clerks Regular of Somasca, dedicated to the care of orphans
and the education of youth. Jerome died in 1537 from a disease he caught while
tending the sick. He was canonized in 1767. In 1928 Pius Xl named him the patron
of orphans and abandoned children. (AmericanCatholic.org)
The Pharisees and some of the teachers
of the law who had come from Jerusalem gathered round Jesus and saw some of his
disciples eating food with hands that were unclean, that is, unwashed. (The
Pharisees and all the Jews do not eat unless they give their hands a ceremonial
washing, holding to the tradition of the elders. When they come from the
market-place they do not eat unless they wash. And they observe many other
traditions, such as the washing of cups, pitchers and kettles.) So the Pharisees
and teachers of the law asked Jesus, Why don't your disciples live according to
the tradition of the elders instead of eating their food with 'unclean' hands?
He replied, Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you hypocrites; as it is
written: 'These people honour me with their lips, but their hearts are far from
me. They worship me in vain; their teachings are but rules taught by men.' You
have let go of the commands of God and are holding on to the traditions of men.
And he said to them: You have a fine way of setting aside the commands of God in
order to observe your own traditions! For Moses said, 'Honour your father and
your mother,' and, 'Anyone who curses his father or mother must be put to
death.' But you say that if a man says to his father or mother: 'Whatever help
you might otherwise have received from me is Corban' (that is, a gift devoted to
God), then you no longer let him do anything for his father or mother. Thus you
nullify the word of God by your tradition that you have handed down. And you do
many things like that. (Mark 7: 1-13)
Religion of the heart It can be an interesting exercise to sit and watch in a
busy human thoroughfare. It might be a busy airport, a bustling inner-city
commercial centre, or a thronging plaza. Some people are hurrying, preoccupied
with what they have at hand. Others are walking in company with others, talking
with animation or in leisurely manner, as the case may be. The whole mass of
people surges this way or that, their minds full of varied issues. Now, watch
the lips of some: they appear to be talking to themselves. Their hearts are
full
of certain matters and they are acting them out in their silent speech. Observe
the variation in dress and manner — it bespeaks the variation in the hearts of
the people who are there. In a sense, we may say that the range of human
phenomena — which is to say, the variety of dress, manner, work, goals and
everything else that characterizes the life of man — manifests the unseen and
varied life of the human heart. Only God sees the heart of man, and he sees all.
What a world, then, does he see! Let us put it this way. Is there a key to the
course of human history, and to the future of man? Inasmuch as every human being
is, by God’s creative will, immortal, what is the key to the eternal destiny of
mankind? The key does not lie in the physical constitution of the world, nor in
the state of the environment, nor in the inter-galactic movement of the
universe. The key does not lie in economics, nor, as such, in politics. At root,
it lies in what goes on in the human heart. What I am thinking, wanting and
intending is what my life depends on. What mankind is thinking, wanting and
intending is what the eternal destiny of man will depend on. That is to say, it
is the heart of man that will decide the fate of the world. The most important
goal a person can set himself in life is to do whatever can be done to ensure
that his heart becomes objectively right — which is to say, pleasing to the God
who always sees it. This means combating and overcoming the sin that grips the
human heart, and turning it to God.
In our Gospel today (Mark 7: 1-13) we read
that “the Pharisees and teachers of the law asked Jesus, Why don't your
disciples live according to the tradition of the elders instead of eating their
food with 'unclean' hands?” The religious leaders observed the religious
practice of Christ’s disciples and found it deeply wanting. Let us notice, by
the way, that they did not accuse Christ himself of this — even though
undoubtedly he, too, did not bother with such excessive washing practices. They
did not confront him because, perhaps, they feared him in any direct debate. But
they made their point by criticizing his disciples. Our Lord’s response was to
draw immediate attention to the vast disparity between their observable practice
and the unseen state of their hearts. Their hearts were very far from God. As we
read, “He replied, Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you hypocrites; as
it is written: 'These people honour me with their lips, but their hearts are far
from me.” The prophet Isaiah, speaking on behalf of God, said that the people
were not honouring God in their hearts — and it was a religion of the heart that
God required. Our Lord applied these words of Isaiah to his critics who were
insisting on the ceremonial washing before eating. Our Lord required a religion
of the heart. It is this above all that we must concentrate on, understanding
all the while, of course, that it will flow out into an obedient observance of
God’s commandments in everyday life. There is indeed an external religion, but
external obedience to God’s law is the fruit of internal obedience to his will.
Our Lord said that the one who loves him keeps his commandments — which is to
say that it is love for him that is the foundation of a religion of external
observance. The religion of the heart shapes religious practice. I remember
watching a film of an Eastern-rite Catholic monastery and the devout singing of
the Divine Office was shown. A priest who was over ninety years of age was shown
in this Divine Service, devoutly engaged in the whole ceremony of prayer. His
heart was entirely in it. His devout religious practice was the manifestation of
a profound religion of the heart.
Let us endeavour every day to purify our heart and to make of it a true temple
of the triune God. One of the greatest mysteries and blessings of the Christian
religion is that the baptized Christian, who is in the state of grace, has the
triune God dwelling within his soul. God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit dwell
within. How could such a religion not be primarily a religion of the heart? What
a travesty it would be for our religion to consist primarily in external
observance alone! Let us then strive to give our hearts to God, combating the
sin that is within and which strives to gain possession, whether it be by anger,
jealousy, lust — or whatever. God must have our hearts.
(E.J.Tyler)
------------------------------------------
A second reflection (on the first reading,
1 Kings 8: 22-30)
"Yet will God really live with men on
the earth? Why, the heavens and their own heavens cannot contain you. How much
less this house that I have built!" (1 Kings 8: 22-30).
The Eucharist Solomon is in wonderment
at the thought that the Temple would be the dwelling place of God who cannot be
contained by the heavens and the earth. It required an act of faith on his part.
He was filled with a sense of the privilege accorded to him and to the chosen
people. God had a house among them.
Now we have a far greater reality and mystery in our midst. It is the holy and
most august Eucharist. We have the Mass and the abiding Eucharistic presence of
Jesus in our churches. Whenever we think of Jesus, whenever we imagine him,
whenever we think of his abiding presence in the Church till the end of time, we
should in the first instance think of the Eucharistic Jesus. It is as the
Eucharist that the Lord Jesus is most fully and intensely present in the Church.
The Eucharist is the heart and soul of every parish and of the Catholic
community, indeed of the whole universal Catholic Church. St Paul writes that in
Christ we have every heavenly blessing. Inasmuch as the Eucharistic Jesus
resides in our parish church, it is the locale of every heavenly blessing. But
we must believe this and strive daily to realise this truth. The Eucharist is
the summit and the source of our whole Christian life — such is the Church’s
teaching. The spiritual life of an individual and of a parish is to be measured
by this standard. Solomon's prayer is a type and forerunner of the prayer that
ought fill the heart of the Christian whose life has its centre in the wondrous
reality that is the Eucharist, present in each of our churches.
The commandment to love our parents belongs to both natural law and to divine
positive law, and I have always called it a “most sweet precept”.
—Do not neglect your obligation to love your parents more each day, to mortify
yourself for them, to pray for them and to be grateful to them for all the good
you owe them.
(The Forge, no.21)
The distinctness with which the conscience of a child tells him the
difference
between right and wrong should also be mentioned. As
persons advance in life,
and yield to the temptations which come upon them, they lose this original
endowment, and are obliged to grope about by the mere reason. If they debate
whether they should act in this way or that, and there are many considerations
of duty and interest involved in the decision, they feel altogether perplexed.
Really, and truly, not from self-deception, but really, they do not know how
they ought to act; and they are obliged to draw out arguments, and take a great
deal of pains to come to a conclusion. And all this, in many cases at least,
because they have lost, through sinning, a guide which they originally had from
God.
JHN, from the sermon ‘The Mind of Little Children’ (1833)
(February 10) St. Scholastica (480-542?)
Twins often share the same interests and ideas with an equal intensity.
Therefore, it is no surprise that Scholastica and her twin brother, Benedict,
established religious communities within a few miles from each other. Born in
480 of wealthy parents, Scholastica and Benedict were brought up together until
he left central Italy for Rome to continue his studies. Little is known of
Scholastica’s early life. She founded a religious community for women near Monte
Cassino at Plombariola, five miles from where her brother governed a monastery.
The twins visited each other once a year in a farmhouse because Scholastica was
not permitted inside the monastery. They spent these times discussing spiritual
matters. According to the Dialogues of St. Gregory the Great, the brother and
sister spent their last day together in prayer and conversation. Scholastica
sensed her death was close at hand and she begged Benedict to stay with her
until the next day. He refused her request because he did not want to spend a
night outside the monastery, thus breaking his own Rule. Scholastica asked God
to let her brother remain and a severe thunderstorm broke out, preventing
Benedict and his monks from returning to the abbey. Benedict cried out, “God
forgive you, Sister. What have you done?” Scholastica replied, “I asked a favour
of you and you refused. I asked it of God and he granted it.” Brother and sister
parted the next morning after their long discussion. Three days later, Benedict
was praying in his monastery and saw the soul of his sister rising heavenward in
the form of a white dove. Benedict then announced the death of his sister to the
monks and later buried her in the tomb he had prepared for himself.
(AmericanCatholic.org)
Again Jesus called the crowd to him and
said, Listen to me, everyone, and understand this. Nothing outside a man can
make him 'unclean' by going into him. Rather, it is what comes out of a man that
makes him 'unclean'. After he had left the crowd and entered the house, his
disciples asked him about this parable. Are you so dull? he asked. Don't you see
that nothing that enters a man from the outside can make him 'unclean'? For it
doesn't go into his heart but into his stomach, and then out of his body. (In
saying this, Jesus declared all foods clean.) He went on: What comes out of a
man is what makes him 'unclean'. For from within, out of men's hearts, come evil
thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit,
lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. All these evils come from inside
and make a man 'unclean'. (Mark 7:14-23)
The human heartA
young person has just finished school. It has been a hard if promising period of
his life. He has finished his final exams and has done well enough. He has
successes to his credit and also failures — although he does not think much of
the failures. He now embarks on his higher studies. University passes by, he
graduates for his chosen career, and he makes his way in his profession. He
marries and begins to raise a family. The years bring their share of
achievements and many frustrations and sorrows. He wishes to grow in his
Christian faith and the difficult realities of life are borne in on him. He is
now in his late middle age, and he sees that while God has cared for him and has
given him a work in life, the great problem has been, and is, his broken, sinful
self. More years pass and there remains the daily inner struggle. From within
his heart all kinds of odious thoughts and desires surge. He is inveterately
unforgiving — even though he wishes he were not. He is jealous and hateful of
those who have hurt him — even though he wishes he were not. He is sad that his
ambitions have been unfulfilled — even though he wishes he were not. He sees
that much of the difficulty of life — though not all, of course — has been due
to his own selfishness and pride in dealing with those whom Providence has
placed in his path. As the years advance a species almost of gloom comes across
him, as he sees more and more vividly the corrupted character of his heart and
how serious a challenge it presents. Sin seems to be rising inexorably into view
from within his depths. This is the hidden burden of his life which he divulges
only to his priest when he comes for the Sacrament of Penance, which he does
regularly. He has the consolation of wife and family, but the basic issue
remains. His profoundly flawed self remains. The crisis of his life comes into
full view: it is what is to be done about his own bad heart. But a few years
remain to him — will it all be a hidden and hopeless failure?
In one important respect, such a person has passed from the shadows into the
light of truth. He has come to see that it is from within a person’s heart that
the evil things of life spew forth. Of course, he understands that various evils
in the world do not come directly from man himself. Nevertheless, in view of the
fact that so much evil and suffering does, it is but a short step to accept the
revealed doctrine that evil and death entered the world through the wicked
choice of man. Man and woman came from the hand of God, uncorrupted. Their
hearts were pure and totally integrated for good. But they chose to rebel, and
mysteriously all of life was thrown out of order and set on the path to death.
The linchpin had gone and the break-up immediately began. Thus it is that while
good tendencies remain in the heart of man, there is within him a powerful and
sinful disorder. If unchecked its upshot is an ultimate death. The person we
followed earlier through life has come to see this from sheer experience, and
this is exactly what our Lord speaks of in today’s Gospel. Indeed, our Lord
speaks of it as something obvious to ordinary experience. “After he had left the
crowd and entered the house, his disciples asked him about this parable. Are you
so dull? he asked. Don't you see that nothing that enters a man from the outside
can make him 'unclean'?” “He went on: What comes out of a man is what makes him
'unclean'. For from within, out of men's hearts, come evil thoughts, sexual
immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy,
slander, arrogance and folly. All these evils come from inside and make a man
'unclean'” (Mark 7:14-23). But our man above
has appreciated only part of the truth. He does not yet realize the wonder of
the Gospel. The Good News is that he is not alone with his own bad heart. Christ
has come and has established the Kingdom of God, and that Kingdom is within you,
as our Lord himself said. Christ has placed within our hearts the Gift of gifts,
which is the Holy Spirit who came to us at our baptism. He, not ourselves, is
our hope.
What is the answer to the bad heart that man has wrought within himself? The
answer lies in the power and the action of Christ. He is the Saviour of the
world. In principle, he has taken away its sin. But this redemptive work must be
brought to each and to all. It must be welcomed and by active cooperation with
this gift of grace, brought to term. There is a further wonder. The suffering
that is now man’s lot has been transformed by the Cross of Christ into a means
of victory — victory over the sin in man’s heart. So then, I shall take each day
as it comes, leaving the future to God. I shall strive daily to do his holy will
in union with the one and only Saviour, Jesus Christ. He will do the work of my
sanctification. Now I begin!
Following the Master’s wishes, you are to be salt and light while being fully
immersed in this world we were made to live in, sharing in all human activities.
Light which illuminates the hearts and minds of men. Salt which gives flavour
and preserves from corruption.
That is why if you lack apostolic zeal you will become insipid and useless. You
will be letting other people down and your life will be absurd.
(The Forge, no.22)
(February 11) Our Lady of Lourdes On December 8, 1854, Pope Pius IX proclaimed the dogma of the Immaculate
Conception in the apostolic constitution Ineffabilis Deus. A little more than
three years later, on February 11, 1858, a young lady appeared to Bernadette Soubirous. This began a series of visions. During the apparition on March 25,
the lady identified herself with the words: “I am the Immaculate Conception.”
Bernadette was a sickly child of poor parents. Their practice of the Catholic
faith was scarcely more than lukewarm. Bernadette could pray the Our Father, the
Hail Mary and the Creed. She also knew the prayer of the Miraculous Medal: “O
Mary conceived without sin.” During interrogations Bernadette gave an account of
what she saw. It was “something white in the shape of a girl.” She used the word
aquero, a dialect term meaning “this thing.” It was “a pretty young girl with a
rosary over her arm.” Her white robe was encircled by a blue girdle. She wore a
white veil. There was a yellow rose on each foot. A rosary was in her hand.
Bernadette was also impressed by the fact that the lady did not use the informal
form of address (tu), but the polite form (vous). The humble virgin appeared to
a humble girl and treated her with dignity. Through that humble girl, Mary
revitalized and continues to revitalize the faith of millions of people. People
began to flock to Lourdes from other parts of France and from all over the
world. In 1862 Church authorities confirmed the authenticity of the apparitions
and authorized the cult of Our Lady of Lourdes for the diocese. The Feast of Our
Lady of Lourdes became worldwide in 1907. (AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today: 1 Kings 11:4-13;
Psalm 106: 3-4, 35-37 and 40; Mark 7: 24-30
Jesus left that place and went to the
vicinity of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know it; yet he
could not keep his presence secret. In fact, as soon as she heard about him, a
woman whose little daughter was possessed by an evil spirit came and fell at his
feet. The woman was a Greek, born in Syrian Phoenicia. She begged Jesus to drive
the demon out of her daughter. First let the children eat all they want, he told
her, for it is not right to take the children's bread and toss it to their dogs.
Yes, Lord, she replied, but even the dogs under the table eat the children's
crumbs. Then he told her, For such a reply, you may go; the demon has left your
daughter. She went home and found her child lying on the bed, and the demon
gone. (Mark: 7:24-30)
Persistent prayer Our Gospel
passage today is taken from the seventh chapter of Mark, and we may take it as
providing a typical picture of much of our Lord’s public ministry. The first
twenty-three verses are taken up with teaching — a teaching directed at the
scribes and Pharisees, and then explained in private to his disciples. Then the
remaining fourteen verses are taken up with our Lord’s healings. Teaching — especially teaching
— and healing consumed our Lord’s public ministry. We read
that everywhere he went they brought to him people burdened with diseases and
demonic possession. In our Gospel passage today (Mark:
7:24-30) our Lord departs — presumably to have some rest with his
disciples whom he also wished to form more intensively — and arrives in the
district of Tyre. There, in some obscure settlement in the area, he took a
meagre dwelling where he wished to be absolutely incognito. But it was not to
be. Did one or more of his disciples make an unguarded remark which raised the
attention of some locals? We do not know, but immediately there came out on to
the street a pagan Syrophenician woman (that is, from the area of Tyre and Sidon).
She was determined to find the famous visitor and gain from him the healing of
her possessed daughter, who was back in the house. She was not to be stopped, or
hushed, or in any way discouraged. She knew what she wanted and this was the one
chance she had. She was not going to let Jesus pass her by. Our Lord had been in
circumstances similar to this before — he had gone apart with his disciples and
had been met at his destination by the crowds who had brought to him their sick.
He responded immediately with a heart filled with compassion. What he asked for
was faith, and we remember the high praise he accorded the faith of the
centurion who had asked him to come and heal his servant. It is inconceivable
that his reserved reply to the cries and clamouring of the pagan woman was the
result of disinterest or impatience. Rather, he was drawing out and testing her
faith.
There is so much to be prayed for! The Syrophenician woman is surely a symbol of
the pain, the suffering, the oppression and the hopes of the world, profoundly
broken as it is by sin. So many are, for various reasons, clamouring to be
relieved of their distress. Yet the world moves on inexorably, and like a vast
sea it seems to envelop without a trace anything that falls to it. For so many,
the pain of life is great and beyond the effective assistance of friends and
passers-by. The only one who can possibly help is God — who, the Christian
knows, is Jesus Christ. He is God-with-us. We must turn to God in our need, but
do we believe that this is of any use? The foundation of so much of religion is
human need — we need the help of God to hold on to life and to flourish. The
springs of religion are the frustrations of life, for which we ask God’s help.
St Alphonsus Ligouri says somewhere in his many spiritual writings that if a
person will not pray he cannot be saved. He is referring especially to the
prayer of petition, and he says that this, the prayer of petition, is the most
important prayer. It is precisely for failing to ask God for benefits,
especially spiritual benefits, that very many people go wanting. In the plan of
God, the more we ask for, and the more reverently and humbly we ask for it, the
better. Our Lord said that if we ask we shall receive and if we seek we shall
find. He also said that we should pray always and never lose heart. But we may
well find that there is a delay, with no immediate response. What then, do we
do? Our temptation will be to give up on God. A common complaint is that prayer
not only involves delay, but that it results in nothing. We seem to be ignored
and even rebuffed. Ah! how like the case of the Syrophenician woman! In the face
of this experience and these thoughts, do we show our faith in God's love and
power by our persistence, or do we just drop God? To drop God would be a serious
lapse. If someone is sick or an important work is ahead, and we have the feeling
that it would be to the honour of God were we to pray for that intention, then
let us pray for it and pray persistently.
Granted that there is a God and that Jesus Christ is his divine Son; granted
that he loves us tenderly; granted that Christ our God and Saviour remains with
us in the Church, persistence in prayer gives him honour and glory. If it is not
God’s will that our specific intention be granted, assuredly there is a gracious
reason for this, and we may confidently expect that a better answer will be
given than the one for which we prayed. Let us take to heart the example of the
Syrophenician woman and how she pleased our Lord by her persistent prayer.
Prayer, persistent and faith-filled prayer, is the most powerful thing in the
world.
(E.J.Tyler).
A red and blue wave of filth and corruption has set out to overcome the world,
throwing its vile spittle over the Cross of the Redeemer.
Now He wants another wave to issue out from our souls — a wave that’s white and
powerful, like the Lord’s right hand — to overcome with its purity all the
rottenness of materialism and undo the corruption that has flooded the world. It
is for this, and more, that the children of God have come.
(The Forge, no.23)
As great men of this world are often plainly dressed, and look like other men,
all but as having some one costly ornament on their breast or on their brow; so
the Son of Mary in His lowly dwelling, and in an infant’s form, was declared to
be the Son of God Most High, the Father of Ages, and the Prince of Peace, by His
star; a wonderful appearance which had guided the wise men all the way from the
East, even unto Bethlehem.
JHN, from the sermon ‘The Season of Epiphany’ (1841)
(February 12) St. Apollonia (d. 249)
The persecution of Christians began in Alexandria during the reign of the
Emperor Philip. The first victim of the pagan mob was an old man named Metrius,
who was tortured and then stoned to death. The second person who refused to
worship their false idols was a Christian woman named Quinta. Her words
infuriated the mob and she was scourged and stoned. While most of the Christians
were fleeing the city, abandoning all their worldly possessions, an old
deaconess, Apollonia, was seized. The crowds beat her, knocking out all of her
teeth. Then they lit a large fire and threatened to throw her in it if she did
not curse her God. She begged them to wait a moment, acting as if she was
considering their requests. Instead, she jumped willingly into the flames and so
suffered martyrdom. There were many churches and altars dedicated to her.
Apollonia is the patroness of dentists, and people suffering from toothache and
other dental diseases often ask her intercession. She is pictured with a pair of
pincers holding a tooth or with a golden tooth suspended from her necklace. St.
Augustine explained her voluntary martyrdom as a special inspiration of the Holy
Spirit, since no one is allowed to cause his or her own death.
(AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today: 1 Kings 11:29-32; 12:19; Psalm
81:10-15; Mark 7:31-37
Then Jesus left the vicinity of Tyre and
went through Sidon, down to the Sea of Galilee and into the region of the
Decapolis. There some people brought to him a man who was deaf and could hardly
talk, and they begged him to place his hand on the man. After he took him aside,
away from the crowd, Jesus put his fingers into the man's ears. Then he spat and
touched the man's tongue. He looked up to heaven and with a deep sigh said to
him, Ephphatha! (which means, Be opened!). At this, the man's ears were opened,
his tongue was loosened and he began to speak plainly. Jesus commanded them not
to tell anyone. But the more he did so, the more they kept talking about it.
People were overwhelmed with amazement. He has done everything well, they said.
He even makes the deaf hear and the mute speak. (Mark
7:31-37)
God’s waysIn the vicinity
of Tyre our Lord had striven to spend a little time in solitude with his
disciples, but it did not happen. He was found out, and was successfully
badgered by the pagan Syrophenician woman to heal her daughter of some demonic
infestation. Doubtlessly, just as the woman had discovered her Benefactor, so
she brought him to the attention of others. So our Lord, with his heart full of
love and compassion, moved on — circuitously — to the Decapolis region (Greek:
deka, ten; polis, city: the Ten Cities). The Decapolis settlements
were centres of Greek and Roman culture in an area that was otherwise Semitic.
With the exception of Damascus, the "Region of the Decapolis" was located
roughly in modern-day Jordan. We are not told how long he stayed here — perhaps
only very briefly, and as with Tyre, it was largely a Gentile area. But again,
here too he was prevailed upon to heal. We read that “some people brought to him
a man who was deaf and could hardly talk, and they begged him to place his hand
on the man.” The petitioners certainly had faith — all they required of him was
that he touch the man with his hand. That was all that was necessary — but,
intriguingly, we notice that our Lord does not do this. With the importunate
Canaanite woman our Lord simply says his word, and the woman went back to her
home calmed with absolute assurance about her suffering daughter. Here he does
not do this. Despite their request for a simple touch of the hand, there is a
most unusual “ritual” — an elaborate procedure which constitutes a bit of a
mystery. We read that after “he took him aside, away from the crowd, Jesus put
his fingers into the man's ears. Then he spat and touched the man's tongue. He
looked up to heaven and with a deep sigh said to him, Ephphatha! (which
means, Be opened!)” (Mark 7: 31-37).
Scholars make various suggestions as to the reason for this unusual
course — it provided a type for our Lord’s action in the future sacramental life
and practice of the Church, and so forth. But Christ himself does not say. For
his reasons, this is the way he chose to do it.
We are at the very least reminded by this event that the ways of God are varied
and often inscrutable. For example, the Cause for the Beatification of one
recently declared Venerable by the Church is in process. Among the requirements
for Beatification is a sign from God in the form of a miracle obtained by that
person’s intercession. So an obscure sick person somewhere in the world prays
with fervour to the one declared Venerable, and a striking miracle occurs which
is ratified by the doctors as utterly beyond natural causes. The answer to
prayer has come rapidly. Another person prays for a healing, asking the
intercession of a different person declared Venerable whose Cause is also
proceeding. But no answer comes immediately. The prayers must be kept up for a
long time, in faith and hope. Why is God doing things in this complicated and
seemingly unnecessary way? We do not know — but we are reminded of the
roundabout course our Lord mysteriously followed in today’s Gospel healing. Such
are the ways of God. Such is the divine will, and God must know best. Ours it is
to submit to his will. Our Gospel passage then presents us with another detail
of this order. Having healed the deaf and almost dumb man, our Lord told his
friends “not to tell anyone.” The Greek indicates a command, a charge. Why did
he do this? After all, on various occasions, even with his disciples and
certainly with the religious leaders, he would appeal to the works he was doing
as a witness to the truth of his claims. Of course, we can easily conjecture as
to the reason for his prohibition, and various scholars give their suggestions.
But the reason is not given in the text, and perhaps our Lord himself did not
give his reasons to his disciples nor to anyone else. The fact is that it was
not necessary to know our Lord's reasons. Presumably, though, our Lord's reasons
were important and were part and parcel of God's plan of salvation. But what
happened? His insistent order was ignored. "But the more he ordered them not to,
the more they proclaimed it." They did precisely the opposite of what our Lord
willed.
God has his ways. Such is the divine will, and God must know best. It is not
necessary that we see the reason why God does what he does, but what is most
necessary is obedience to his will.
We must be very careful to do God's will in seemingly unimportant things. If it
be God's will, no matter how small the issue, our disobedience will be an
offence against God, and our obedience will be pleasing to him. We must assume
that the attainment of God’s plan for us and for others will depend on our
obeying God in the small details of life. In any case, it is God who asks it.
(E.J.Tyler)
Surely there can be no great harm, and nothing very ridiculous, where men are
religious, in thus thinking the events of their day more than ordinary, in
fancying that the world’s matters are winding up, and that events are thickening
for a final visitation; for, let it be observed, Scripture sanctions us in
interpreting all that we see in the world in a religious sense, and as if all
things were tokens and revelations of Christ, His Providence, and will.
(February 13) St. Giles Mary of St. Joseph (1729-1812)
In the same year that a power-hungry Napoleon Bonaparte led his army into
Russia, Giles Mary of St. Joseph ended a life of humble service to his
Franciscan community and to the citizens of Naples. Francesco was born in
Taranto to very poor parents. His father’s death left the 18-year-old Francesco
to care for the family. Having secured their future, he entered the Friars Minor
at Galatone in 1754. For 53 years he served at St. Paschal’s Hospice in Naples
in various roles, such as cook, porter or most often as official beggar for that
community. “Love God, love God” was his characteristic phrase as he gathered
food for the friars and shared some of his bounty with the poor—all the while
consoling the troubled and urging everyone to repent. The charity which he
reflected on the streets of Naples was born in prayer and nurtured in the common
life of the friars. The people whom Giles met on his begging rounds nicknamed
him the “Consoler of Naples.” He was canonized in 1996. In his homily at the
canonization of Giles, Pope John Paul II said that the spiritual journey of
Giles reflected “the humility of the Incarnation and the gratuitousness of the
Eucharist” (L'Osservatore Romano 1996, volume 23, number 1). (AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today: 1 Kings12:26-32, 13:33-34; Psalm 106:6-7ab, 19-22; Mark 8:1-10
During those days another large crowd gathered. Since they had nothing to eat,
Jesus called his disciples to him and said, I have compassion for these people;
they have already been with me three days and have nothing to eat. If I send
them home hungry, they will collapse on the way, because some of them have come
a long distance. His disciples answered, But where in this remote place can
anyone get enough bread to feed them? How many loaves do you have? Jesus asked.
Seven, they replied. He told the crowd to sit down on the ground. When he had
taken the seven loaves and given thanks, he broke them and gave them to his
disciples to set before the people, and they did so. They had a few small fish
as well; he gave thanks for them also and told the disciples to distribute them.
The people ate and were satisfied. Afterwards the disciples picked up seven
basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over. About four thousand men were
present. And having sent them away, he got into the boat with his disciples and
went to the region of Dalmanutha. (Mark 8:1-10)
He is the Answer
There is something our Lord says in our Gospel passage today that prompts
reflection. “I have compassion on these people” he says. “If I send them home
hungry, they will collapse on the way.” It reminds us of the burdens and
afflictions weighing on man. That is to say, it reminds us of the Original Fall.
In about 2003 a reporter by the name of Margaret Wertheim had a conversation
with Father George Coyne of the Vatican Observatory. She asked him whether he
thought there was intelligent life elsewhere in the universe. The priest
suggested that "each star is fired with a propensity for life, but there is no
reason to think any of them have achieved this." Perhaps, he thought, out there
is nothing but vast clouds of gas and billions of nuclear fireballs that never
reach a biological threshold. But, he continued, perhaps that threshold has been
reached and somewhere in the void of cosmological space there are others looking
out for us. In May of 2008, Father Coyne’s successor as director of the Vatican
Observatory, Father Jose Gabriel Funes, wrote that were persons to exist
elsewhere in the universe, they may not have undergone an Original Fall from
grace. St Paul writes in the Letter to the Romans, sin entered the world through
one man and with the entry of sin, death spread to all. If there were not to
have been an Original Sin in a race other than our own, the question arises in
our minds about the sense in which “death” and its ramifications would be
present among them. The question concerns the condition of life in a race where
there had not been an Original Fall — though, of course, there presumably would
have been personal sin subsequent to the origins. It is a purely theoretical
question but is one that has the practical effect of helping us appreciate again
the impact of the Fall of man. To imagine a race that did not experience an
Original Fall helps us to appreciate the catastrophe of Original Sin in our vast
human family, and the prodigious character of Christ’s work of taking away the
sin of the world. The sufferings that afflict our race have ultimately come from
the Original Fall.
I suggest that thoughts such as these
can be prompted by our contemplating our Lord’s concern for the people. They
were hungry and if they were sent away, they could collapse on the way. It is a
small detail, but it represents in its own way the common human condition
subject to death, sufferings and evils. Our life is radically precarious and
vulnerable to countless threats from without and from within. After a few days
of miscalculation, a person — a whole group of persons — can be threatened with
starvation. If it is not starvation, it might be thirst. If it is not the lack
of food and drink which threatens life, it could be hostile attacks from other
men. It might be something entirely interior which threatens life — such as a
simple heart attack. These are threats to life, but there are also countless
threats to happiness and well-being. Why does life have to be like this? Why
does man not possess full happiness and full flourishing here on earth? Why is
he liable to “collapse on the way”? Mysteriously, it was because of the Original
Fall of man that sin entered the world, and with sin came death, and death has
spread to the whole human race. Because of this great fact, man cries out to the
great God — however he imagines him — and asks for succour. Thus does religion
pervade the cultures and societies of man. But where is the answer to this great
and persistent cry? Man lives on hope, but in fact more than hope is possible.
God has intervened and come to dwell among us. The Word became flesh and dwelt
among us. His glory was seen, the glory of the Only-begotten of the Father, full
of grace and truth. He came to take away the Curse and by means of his body the
Church, to bring that blessing to all. All of this is surely symbolized by our
Lord’s action in today’s Gospel. “How many loaves do you have? Jesus asked.
Seven, they replied. He told the crowd to sit down on the ground. When he had
taken the seven loaves and given thanks, he broke them and gave them to his
disciples to set before the people, and they did so. They had a few small fish
as well; he gave thanks for them also and told the disciples to distribute them.
The people ate and were satisfied” (Mark 8:1-10).
This action of Christ in feeding the multitudes and sustaining them in their
need is a portent of the far greater action of his feeding the nations with his
own body and blood in the Holy Eucharist. This food brings life everlasting. It
is the ultimate answer here on earth to man’s radical vulnerability and
proneness to death. In the Eucharist, the Fall has received its antidote. The
full effects of this antidote will be seen in life everlasting, but that life
everlasting begins here and now when the antidote is received. Let us then
understand well that life can be ours, life everlasting.
(E.J.Tyler)
A reflection on
the first reading (1 Kings 12: 26-32; 13: 33-34) Serving
God
Consider the story of Jeroboam as narrated in the Old Testament reading for
today from the first book of Kings. Solomon's kingdom had split asunder, and
Jeroboam was king of the northern half, Israel. He flagrantly led his people to
worship false gods for personal self-interest: "You have been going up to
Jerusalem long enough. Here are your gods, Israel; these brought you up out of
the land of Egypt!" What a terrible thing it is to lead a person, let alone many
persons, astray from the truth that God has revealed. We can surely think of so
many cases in the history of the Church in which people of influence have led
people astray from revealed truth as the Church teaches and transmits it.
Jeroboam can be regarded as a type of this.
This is not just something involving
people of wide influence due to personal gifts or position in society or the
Church. It involves all of us no matter how small we might be by comparison. All
of us have some influence on others, and God will hold us accountable for how we
use this influence. And there is this: while we must take care lest we influence
others adversely, we can fail seriously by not striving positively to be a good
influence. There is the old saying that evil flourishes when good people do
nothing. God will hold us accountable for failing to be active in doing good and
in furthering the interests of God and Christ. The whole Church, including its
overwhelming component of lay faithful, is called by God to be a positive
Christ-like influence on the world. They have received a share in his mission,
and the calling to be apostolic.
(E.J.Tyler)
If you are another Christ, if you behave as a son of God, wherever you are you
will set others alight. Christ burns with love, he does not leave hearts
indifferent.
(The Forge, no.25)
The great and chief revelation which God has made us of His will is through
Christ and His Apostles. They have given us a knowledge of the truth; they have
sent forth heavenly principles and doctrines into the world; they have
accompanied that revealed truth by Divine sacraments, which convey to the heart
what otherwise would be a mere outward and barren knowledge; and they have told
us to practise what we know, and obey what we are taught, that the Word of
Christ may be formed and dwell in us.
(February 14) Saints Cyril and Methodius (d. 869; d.
884)
Because their father was an officer in a part of Greece inhabited by many Slavs,
these two Greek brothers ultimately became missionaries, teachers and patrons of
the Slavic peoples.
After a brilliant course of studies,
Cyril (called Constantine until he became a
monk shortly before his death) refused the governorship of a district such as
his brother had accepted among the Slavic-speaking population. Cyril withdrew to
a monastery where
his
brother Methodius had become a monk after some years in a governmental post. A
decisive change in their lives occurred when the Duke of Moravia (present-day
Czech Republic) asked the Eastern Emperor Michael for political independence
from German rule and ecclesiastical autonomy (having their own clergy and
liturgy). Cyril and Methodius undertook the missionary task. Cyril’s first work
was to invent an alphabet, still used in some Eastern liturgies. His followers
probably formed the Cyrillic alphabet (for example, modern Russian) from Greek
capital letters. Together they translated the Gospels, the psalter, Paul’s
letters and the liturgical books into Slavonic, and composed a Slavonic liturgy,
highly irregular then. That and their free use of the vernacular in preaching
led to opposition from the German clergy. The bishop refused to consecrate
Slavic bishops and priests, and Cyril was forced to appeal to Rome. On the visit
to Rome, he and Methodius had the joy of seeing their new liturgy approved by
Pope Adrian II. Cyril, long an invalid, died in Rome 50 days after taking the
monastic habit. Methodius continued
mission work for 16 more years. He was papal legate for all the Slavic peoples,
consecrated a bishop and then given an ancient see (now in the Czech Republic).
When much of their former territory was removed from their jurisdiction, the
Bavarian bishops retaliated with a violent storm of accusation against Methodius.
As a result, Emperor Louis the German exiled Methodius for three years. Pope
John VIII secured his release. The Frankish clergy, still smarting, continued
their accusations, and Methodius had to go to Rome to defend himself against
charges of heresy and uphold his use of the Slavonic liturgy. He was again
vindicated. Legend has it that in a feverish period of activity, Methodius
translated the whole Bible into Slavonic in eight months. He died on Tuesday of
Holy Week, surrounded by his disciples, in his cathedral church. Opposition
continued after his death, and the work of the brothers in Moravia was brought
to an end and their disciples scattered. But the expulsions had the beneficial
effect of spreading the spiritual, liturgical and cultural work of the brothers
to Bulgaria, Bohemia and southern Poland. Patrons of Moravia, and specially
venerated by Catholic Czechs, Slovaks, Croatians, Orthodox Serbians and
Bulgarians,
Cyril and Methodius are eminently fitted to guard the
long-desired unity of East and West. In 1980, Pope John Paul II named them
additional co-patrons of Europe (with Benedict). (AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today: Jeremiah 17:5-8; Psalm 1:1-4
and 6; 1 Cor 15:12, 16-20; Luke 6:17, 20-26
Jesus went down with them and stood on a
level place. A large crowd of his disciples was there together with a great
number of people from all over Judea, from Jerusalem, and from the coast of Tyre
and Sidon. Looking at his disciples, he said: Blessed are you who are poor, for
yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be
satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Blessed are you
when men hate you, when they exclude you and insult you and reject your name as
evil, because of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because
great is your reward in heaven. For that is how their fathers treated the
prophets. But woe to you who are rich, for you have already received your
comfort. Woe to you who are well fed now, for you will go hungry. Woe to you who
laugh now, for you will mourn and weep. Woe to you when all men speak well of
you, for that is how their fathers treated the false prophets.
(Luke 6:17, 20-26)
Choosing ChristI do not think that the principal danger
facing the Christian is, in the first instance, the outright abandonment of
Christ. This of course can certainly happen — and the example of Judas shows
that this can happen even to the most favoured disciple. Even with Judas,
though, it appears to have happened gradually. No, the biggest danger is that of
settling down to a mediocre following of our Lord. “If you wish to be
perfect....,” our Lord began in his reply to the rich young man who had asked
what he must do to inherit eternal life. The danger is that of not seeking to be
perfect in the love and service of God. All through the Gospels it is clear that
our Lord expects the very best from anyone who wishes to be his disciple. But
our very best requires of us a prolonged struggle and it is the prospect of this
that can so easily lead us to lower our sights. We must brace ourselves for a
long campaign against refusing to be generous in small duties — against venial
sin, in other words. Every day the work must begin anew, and if it does not,
then all our life we will remain attached to ourselves and to creatures, much
more than to God. We will have a lukewarm and mediocre love for him, and it is
this that can prepare the way for an abandonment of him. At the outset — indeed
at the outset of every day — we ought make a choice between two standards, that
of Christ, or that of the world, the flesh and the devil. The two standards are
utterly different and our Lord wants a clear choice from us, not made just once
but renewed daily and lived out in the little duties of everyday life. In
today’s Gospel our Lord sets forth two types of persons: on the one type he
pronounces a blessing, and on the other a woe. We must choose which type we
shall be. Those who have chosen to be his disciples, and to endure poverty,
hunger, sufferings and rejection because of their love for him, are the blessed
ones. They are fortunate, and happy. Their reward will be great in heaven. But
alas to those who prefer riches, worldly satisfaction, pleasure and the world’s
praise to a generous following of him. Alas to them, our Lord says. Let us not
be mediocre in this choice.
Now, the fact is that this is the path
to happiness. One of the greatest mysteries of life for man is the question of
wherein lies the path to true and deep happiness. I wonder how many people are
deeply happy! Is it not the question of life? Ought not parents have as one of
their principal goals helping their children to understand how true happiness is
to be attained in this life, and, of course, attained in the next. But does the
average parent know where this happiness is to be found? There have been so many
suggestions, so many theories about happiness and how to attain it. Some think
happiness is to be found in popularity, others in wealth, others in influence.
But God has revealed, and the Church has explained, that we attain our fullest
happiness by virtue of the grace of Christ which makes us sharers in the divine
life. In the Gospels, Christ points out to his followers the way that leads to
eternal happiness. It is through the living of the beatitudes, and our Gospel
today (Luke 6: 17, 20-26) provides us with Luke’s presentation of them. In
essence they are a brief statement of the mind, the heart and the practice of
Jesus Christ, and of what it is to follow his example. Our Lord is saying,
blessed will you be if you take me as your love and your model, and woe upon you
if you refuse. Our true happiness will be found therein. The beatitudes respond
to the natural desire for happiness, a desire that is of divine origin. God has
placed this desire in the human heart precisely to draw man to the One who alone
can fulfil it. As St Augustine wrote, “in seeking you, my God, I seek a happy
life. Let me seek you so that my soul may live” (Confessions 10,20). As
St Thomas Aquinas wrote, “God alone satisfies” (Expos. In symb. apost.1).
Our Lord’s description of the one who is truly blessed sets forth the goal of
human existence, the ultimate end of human acts. That goal is a sharing in the
happiness of God as revealed in Jesus Christ his incarnate Son. This vocation is
addressed to each person individually, and to the Church as a whole.
Mediocrity and half-heatedness in the
following of Christ is the ever-present danger in the Christian life. If
poverty, hunger, sorrow and rejection were ever to come our way through no fault
of our own, and most especially as a result of our choice for Jesus, Christ
counts it as a great blessing. Our Lord assures us that this is the path to true
happiness. Let us resolve to find our happiness in where it truly awaits us,
then. Where is that? It lies in love for and union with Jesus Christ, our
brother, our Saviour, and our God.
(E.J.Tyler)
Further reading: The Catechism of the Catholic Church,
no.1716-1724 (Our call to happiness)
A second reflection on the Gospel of the
Sixth Sunday of Ordinary Time C
"Then
fixing his eyes on his disciples he said: 'How happy are you who are poor'..."
Poverty of spiritIn our Gospel today our Lord utters his
well-known teaching on poverty of spirit: “Blessed are you poor, yours is the
Kingdom of Heaven” (Luke 6:17.20-26).
Christians are guided by Christ, but there have been non-Christians who have
understood well the danger that riches pose. Mahatma Ghandi was one such.
Consider, then, our Lord’s words about the poverty that can enrich, and the
wealth that can impoverish. “Blessed are you who are poor,” is Christ’s dictum.
Are we convinced of its truth? Many saints, resolving to follow our Lord
generously, distributed their possessions to the poor. Then they embarked on
their following of Christ. They regarded themselves as fortunate, for they were
now poor. Christ was their wealth. Most of us are not called to follow that
specific vocation, but such saints as these remind us that the poverty of spirit
to which our Lord is referring is a most blessed condition of heart. Are we
convinced of this, on the word of Christ? If so, in what precise way are we
acting on it?
Riches bring a special danger while a
degree of poverty offers an opportunity. The danger of riches consists in
becoming attached to material possessions and wealth more than God. Whereas it
is easier for the poor person to turn to God because God is all he has. Wealth
in itself is not an evil for it ultimately comes from the hand of God. Rather it
is the attitude to wealth that can make of it a danger. Nor does mere poverty
make a person attached to Christ and to God. Just as with wealth, it will depend
on one’s attitude. If a poor person depends on God and looks to Him above all,
then his poverty will have proved to be a blessing. But a poor person can allow
his poverty to embitter him, enrage him, consume him with envy, and even lead
him to harm those who have wealth. It is the one who is poor in spirit, poor in
his heart, lacking attachment to material and temporal things, who is blessed.
This can be the poor man and it can be the rich man, but it is more difficult
for the rich man because man is prone to set his heart on possessions. Whether
we are well off or struggling we are called to place our hopes in God. If we are
struggling, it could be a heaven-sent opportunity to depend on God. If we are
rich, we must beware for we could lose our sense of dependence on God — all
the while unaware of it.
Christ is calling us to be like the poor person who depends completely on God.
This is the poverty of spirit which characterized Christ himself and which he
marked out as the way of his disciples, the way that leads to the Kingdom of
God. All our lives we ought remember what our Lord says to us: “ Blessed are you
who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.”
It is painful to see that after two thousand years there are so few people in
the world who call themselves Christians and that of those who do call
themselves Christians, so few practise the true teaching of Jesus Christ.
It is worth while putting our whole life at stake!: working and suffering for
Love, to accomplish God’s plans and co—redeem.
(The Forge, no.26)
(February 15) St. Claude la Colombière (1641-1682) This
is a special day for the Jesuits, who claim today’s saint as one of their own.
It’s also a special day for people who have a special devotion to the Sacred
Heart of Jesus—a devotion Claude la Colombière promoted, along with his friend
and spiritual companion, St. Margaret Mary Alacoque. The emphasis on God’s love
for all was an antidote to the rigorous moralism of the Jansenists, who were
popular at the time. Claude showed remarkable preaching skills long before his
ordination in 1675. Two months later he was made superior of a small Jesuit
residence in Burgundy. It was there he first encountered Margaret Mary Alacoque.
For many years after he served as her confessor. He was next sent to England to
serve as confessor to the Duchess of York. He preached by both words and by the
example of his holy life, converting a number of Protestants. Tensions arose
against Catholics and Claude, rumored to be part of a plot against the king, was
imprisoned. He was ultimately banished, but by then his health had been ruined.
He died in 1682. Pope John Paul the Second canonized Claude la Colombière in
1992. (AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today: James 1:1-11; Psalm 119:67, 68,
71, 72, 75, 76; Mark 8:11-13
The Pharisees came and began to question
Jesus. To test him, they asked him for a sign from heaven. He sighed deeply and
said, Why does this generation ask for a miraculous sign? I tell you the truth,
no sign will be given to it. Then he left them, got back into the boat and
crossed to the other side. (Mark 8:11-13)
Prayer of petition Our Gospel scene today shows us the Pharisees approaching
Jesus to present a request. Our Lord refused. It is a dramatic qualification of
the assurance that our Lord gave on another occasion, that our requests to him
in prayer would be met. Ask and you will receive, he said. Seek and you will
find, knock and the door will be opened to you. The man who asks always
receives. If you who are evil know how to give good things, how much more will
your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him. These words of
Christ assure us that God is pleased that we turn to him in our need, and it
urges us to expect that our requests will be heard because he is our loving and
all-powerful Father. But of course, the prayer of petition is not magic. It is
not a formula which in the mere using has its effect, unlocking a course of
events because of its secret, inherent power. Most especially, prayer is a
personal encounter between the creature and the Creator, and if that encounter
is to be authentic then it necessarily assumes a certain attitude on the part of
the creature. It assumes a true dependence, a true acknowledgment, a humble and
loving recognition that God is God. If this is not at all present, then requests
presented to God will disappear into the void. The result will be silence in the
heavens, and at times a stern rebuke. So it is that, as we read, “The Pharisees
came and began to question Jesus. To test him, they asked him for a sign from
heaven. He sighed deeply and said, Why does this generation ask for a miraculous
sign? I tell you the truth, no sign will be given to it. Then he left them, got
back into the boat and crossed to the other side” (Mark 8: 11-13). On other
occasions our Lord was presented with requests which brought silence from him.
During his Passion Pilate sent him to Herod. Herod was delighted because he had
heard much of our Lord, and regarded this as an opportunity to see the
wonder-worker in action. So he asked our Lord to work a miracle before him.
Christ did speak, with sovereign respect, to Pilate. But with Herod he said and
did nothing.
There is also this to be noticed — and on reflection, the point ought be fairly
obvious. At times even those who loved our Lord and who were virtuous did not
necessarily have their requests to him met. To take a minor example, when our
Lord presented himself to John the Baptist for his baptism of repentance, we
read that John tried to stop him. It is I who should be baptized by you, John
said to Jesus. His implicit request was that Jesus not present himself to him
for baptism. But to that request our Lord did not accede. Though sinless he
insisted on being baptized, thus manifesting his solidarity with sinful man. We
read that on one occasion during his public ministry our Lord was welcomed into
the home of his good friends, Martha and Mary — the sisters of Lazarus whom he
would raise from the dead. During that visit Mary sat at the feet of Jesus
listening to him speaking. Martha, wearied with the serving and irritated at her
sister doing nothing to help her, approached our Lord and asked that he tell her
sister to get up and give a hand. Our Lord refused her request. Martha, Martha,
he said. You are fretting about various things, but only one thing is necessary.
Mary has chosen the better part. It will not be taken from her. I like to
imagine our Lord smiling at Martha as he said it. Martha loved our Lord and was
virtuous — and we celebrate Saint Martha’s feast day every year. Her request was
not met. On another occasion our Lord was on his way to Jerusalem with his
disciples and was about to pass through a Samaritan village. The Samaritans
would not admit them because they were on their way to Jerusalem. James and
John, full of indignation, asked our Lord to let them call down fire from heaven
on them. Our Lord rebuked them for this request. One might say that requests
such as these would naturally be refused, but the point being made is that we
ought present our petitions before God, understanding that God is able to judge
the wisdom of our request. What God can see may be hidden from us. We ought
strive to ask God for what he most wants to give us.
In our Gospel today the Pharisees approach our Lord with a request
— they asked
him to perform a sign before them that would convince them of the truth of his
claims. They were refused. Their hearts were not submissive to God and so the
response to their request was silence and a rebuke. Let us in all our needs
humbly go to God our Father, asking with persistence that he answer our
petitions, all the while being utterly submissive to his holy will.
(E.J.Tyler)
"My brothers, you will always have your trials but, when they come, try to treat
them as a happy privilege; you understand that your faith is only put to the
test to make you patient, but patience too is to have its practical results so
that you will become fully developed, complete, with nothing missing. If there
is any one of you who needs wisdom, he must ask God, who gives to all freely and
ungrudgingly; it will be given to him." (James 1: 1-4)
Suffering One famous anthropologist (Evans-Pritchard) wrote that a key to the
understanding of a religion is its answer to the problem of suffering. Buddha
sought an answer to suffering by seeking a way to escape it. But by his
suffering and death Christ has made human suffering itself a source of
inestimable blessings. It was precisely through his Passion and Death that the
world was redeemed. If, when suffering, we unite ourselves with Christ in his
suffering (especially in the Eucharistic sacrifice), our sufferings are
transformed into a source of blessings for our own sanctification and that of
others. Because of Christ, suffering is now not simply a negative. Thus it is
that those most united to Christ (the saints), while spending themselves in
lessening the sufferings of others, in imitation of Christ readily embrace
suffering themselves.
The passage from St James 1: 2-4 (above) makes reference to this. He tells us
that "you will always have your trials but, when they come, try to treat them as
a happy privilege". This is the language of great optimism and meaning in the
face of suffering. To suffer is “a happy privilege.” We can only look at it this
way if we suffer in union with Christ. Suffering is an opportunity, a privilege,
because it involves a association with Christ. Further, it will bring with it
the chance of true spiritual maturity: as St James writes, it will "have its
practical results so that you will become fully-developed, complete, with
nothing missing." (James 1: 4)
Let us pray to the Lord for wisdom (as St James goes on to advise in verse 5),
especially the wisdom to know how to suffer with Christ. It is "a happy
privilege."
(E.J.Tyler)
I look at your Cross, my Jesus, and I rejoice in your grace, because your
Calvary has won for us the reward of the Holy Spirit. And you give yourself to
me, each day, lovingly, madly, in the Sacred Host. And you have made me a son of
God, and have given me your
Mother to be mine.
I can’t be satisfied with just giving thanks. My thoughts take flight: Lord,
Lord, there are so many souls who are so far from you!
Foster those yearnings for apostolate in your life, that many may get to know
him…, and love him…, and come to feel loved by him!
(The Forge, no.27)
For the prerogative of Christians consists in the possession, not of exclusive
knowledge and spiritual aid, but of gifts high and peculiar; and though the
manifestation of the Divine character in the Incarnation is a singular and
inestimable benefit, yet its absence is supplied in a degree, not only in the
inspired record of Moses, but even, with more or less strength, as the case may
be, in those various traditions concerning Divine Providences and Dispensations
which are scattered through the heathen mythologies.
JHN, from the University sermon ‘The Influence of Natural and Revealed Religion
Respectively’ (1830)
(February 16) St. Gilbert of Sempringham (c. 1083-1189)
Gilbert was born in Sempringham, England, into a wealthy family, but he followed
a path quite different from that expected of him as the son of a Norman knight.
Sent to France for his higher education, he decided to pursue seminary studies.
He returned to England not yet ordained a priest, and inherited several estates
from his father. But Gilbert avoided the easy life he could have led under the
circumstances. Instead he lived a simple life at a parish, sharing as much as
possible with the poor. Following his ordination to the priesthood he served as
parish priest at Sempringham. Among the congregation were seven young women who
had expressed to him their desire to live in religious life. In response,
Gilbert had a house built for them adjacent to the Church. There they lived an
austere life, but one which attracted ever more numbers; eventually lay sisters
and lay brothers were added to work the land. The religious order formed
eventually became known as the Gilbertines, though Gilbert had hoped the
Cistercians or some other existing order would take on the responsibility of
establishing a rule of life for the new order. The Gilbertines, the only
religious order of English origin founded during the Middle Ages, continued to
thrive. But the order came to an end when King Henry VIII suppressed all
Catholic monasteries. Over the years a special custom grew up in the houses of
the order called "the plate of the Lord Jesus." The best portions of the dinner
were put on a special plate and shared with the poor, reflecting Gilbert's
lifelong concern for less fortunate people. Throughout his life Gilbert lived
simply, consumed little food and spent a good portion of many nights in prayer.
Despite the rigors of such a life he died at well over age 100.
(AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today: James 1:12-18; Psalm 94:12-15, 18-19; Mark 8:14-21
The disciples had forgotten to bring bread, except for one loaf they had with
them in the boat. Be careful, Jesus warned them. Watch out for the yeast of the
Pharisees and that of Herod. They discussed this with one another and said, It
is because we have no bread. Aware of their discussion, Jesus asked them: Why
are you talking about having no bread? Do you still not see or understand? Are
your hearts hardened? Do you have eyes but fail to see, and ears but fail to
hear? And don't you remember? When I broke the five loaves for the five
thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you pick up? Twelve, they replied.
And when I broke the seven loaves for the four thousand, how many basketfuls of
pieces did you pick up? They answered, Seven. He said to them, Do you still not
understand? (Mark 8:14-21)
Blindness One of the most common of notions is that in religion, ultimately what
is important is that a person be sincere. As it stands, this is unexceptionable
except that there can be the hidden assumption that while sincerity in religion
is important, the truth is not. Now, it is obviously very essential that a
person be sincere, that he act according to his convictions, that he not be
duplicitous, that his “yes” be a true yes and that his “no” a true no. It is
important that he try sincerely to act according to his conscience. But a person
can be all of this, more or less, and yet the crucial element may be missing. He
may have no perception. He may be blind. In our Gospel today
(Mark 8: 14-21) our
Lord warns his disciples against “the yeast of the Pharisees and that of Herod.”
He was warning them against the influence of their teaching and example. The
primary function of yeast (a plant) in the making of bread is to supply carbon
dioxide gas which inflates the dough during the early stages of baking. The
dough is aerated by the action of the yeast. The yeast ferments the dough,
producing tiny bubbles of gas inside it. As a result, the dough gets fatter and
bigger — and rises, of course. Thus when the dough is baked, there is a 'bold'
loaf, light and airy; when it is cut one can see the tiny holes formed by the
gas, so that it looks like a sponge. Without the yeast the dough would remain
flat — which is to say that to all intents and purposes the “bread” is made such
by the yeast. The Pharisees and the Herodians were blind. On one occasion when
the Sadducees attempted to prove to our Lord by a riddle that there could not be
a resurrection from the dead, he said they knew neither the Scriptures nor the
power of God. “You are very much mistaken,” Christ said (Mark 12: 18-27). On
another occasion he referred to the Pharisees as blind leaders of the blind.
Both fall into the ditch (Matthew 15:14). But this error and this blindness was
due to the state of their hearts. As our Lord went on to say in the same chapter
(15:18-20), it is from the heart of man that come the things that defile him.
This point about blindness of mind due to the state of heart is implied in what
our Lord then says to his disciples. They had completely misinterpreted his
warning against the yeast of the Pharisees and the Herodians. “They discussed
this with one another and said, It is because we have no bread.” Why are you
talking about “bread” as a result of what I said? he asked them. And then he
makes a connection between “understanding” and the state of a person’s heart.
“Do you still not see or understand? Are your hearts hardened? Do you have eyes
but fail to see, and ears but fail to hear? And don't you remember? When I broke
the five loaves for the five thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you
pick up? Twelve, they replied. And when I broke the seven loaves for the four
thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you pick up? They answered, Seven.
He said to them, “Do you still not understand?” (Mark 8:14-21). I like to
imagine our Lord smiling at his disciples when he said this, perhaps shaking his
head in good humour. They loved him and strove to understand his teaching and
were truly willing to embrace it because of their love and veneration for him.
But our Lord seems to imply that even with his disciples, their lack of
understanding was to some extent due to the state of their hearts: Do you still
not see or understand? Are your hearts hardened? This was certainly the case,
and far more so, with the Pharisees and the Herodians. Our Lord’s words point to
a terrible possibility, that lack of belief can stem from the state of one’s
heart. Cardinal Newman during his Anglican days was on intimate terms at Oxford
with an apostate Catholic priest, one Joseph Blanco White. Blanco White ended
his days having passed from Catholicism to Anglicanism and finally on to
Unitarianism. He was buried in the Unitarian burial ground in Manchester while
Newman was still an Anglican. Newman even as an Anglican judged him to be
sincere but blind — but that this blindness was due to moral failure. Countless
moral infidelities brought on a blindness in understanding.
Many have lacked understanding but have acted in all good faith. They remained
good soil for the action of God. St Paul prior to is conversion was an instance
of this. He simply did not know better, but responded totally when true light
came. We remember the blind man coming before our Lord, who asked him 'What do
you want me to do for you?' His answer was, 'Lord, that I may see.' Many saints
have made that petition their own prayer: Lord that I may see! Mere sincerity is
not enough. We must seek to know the truth, to “see,” because sincerity can be
blind with a blindness that is morally culpable. Let us pray for light from God
that will overcome the blindness of our hearts, and when light comes, let us be
faithful to it. If we are not, the light will pass away.
Sometimes we hear love described (you’ll have heard me mention this more than
once) as if it were a movement towards self—satisfaction, or merely a means of
selfishly fulfilling one’s own personality.
—And I have always told you that it isn’t so. True love demands getting out of
oneself, giving oneself. Genuine love brings joy in its wake, a joy that has its
roots in the shape of the Cross.
(The Forge, no.28)
It is considered, and justly, as an evidence for Christianity, that the ablest
men have been Christians; not that all sagacious or profound minds have taken up
its profession, but that it has gained victories among them, such and so many,
as to show that it is not the mere fact of ability or learning which is the
reason why all are not converted. Such, too, is the characteristic of
Catholicity; not the highest in rank, not the meanest, not the most refined, not
the rudest, is beyond the influence of the Church; she includes specimens of
every class among her children.
JHN, from the discourse ‘Prospects of the Catholic Missioner’ (1849)
Lord,
you are merciful to all, and hate nothing you have created. You overlook the
sins of men to bring them repentance. You are the Lord of all. (Wisdom 11:
24-25.27)
Lord,
protect us in our struggle against evil. As we begin the discipline of Lent,
make this season holy by our self-denial.
(February 17) Seven Founders of the Order of Servites
(13th century)
Can you imagine seven prominent men of Boston or Denver
banding together, leaving their homes and professions, and going into
solitude
for a life directly given to God? That is what happened in the cultured and
prosperous city of Florence in the middle of the thirteenth century. The city
was torn with political strife as well as the heresy of the Cathari, who
believed that physical reality was inherently evil. Morals were low and religion
seemed meaningless. In 1240 seven noblemen of Florence mutually decided to
withdraw from the city to a solitary place for prayer and direct service of God.
Their initial difficulty was providing for their dependents, since two were
still married and two were widowers. Their aim was to lead a life of penance and
prayer, but they soon found themselves disturbed by constant visitors from
Florence. They next withdrew to the deserted slopes of Monte Senario. In 1244,
under the direction of St. Peter of Verona, O.P., this small group adopted a
religious habit similar to the Dominican habit, choosing to live under the Rule
of St. Augustine and adopting the name of the Servants of Mary. The new Order
took a form more like that of the mendicant friars than that of the older
monastic Orders.
Members of the community came to the United States from
Austria in 1852 and settled in New York and later in Philadelphia. The two
American provinces developed from the foundation made by Father Austin Morini in
1870 in Wisconsin. Community members combined monastic life and active ministry.
In the monastery, they led a life of prayer, work and silence while in the
active apostolate they engaged in parochial work, teaching, preaching and other
ministerial activities. (AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture: Joel 2: 12-18; Psalm 51:3-6, 12-14
and 17; 2 Cor 5:20-6:2; Matthew 6:1-6. 16-18
Jesus said, Be careful not to do your
'acts of righteousness' before men, to be seen by them. If you do, you will have
no reward from your Father in heaven. So when you give to the needy, do not
announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the
streets, to be honoured by men. I tell you the truth, they have received their
reward in full. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know
what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your
Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. And when you pray, do
not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and
on the street corners to be seen by men. I tell you the truth, they have
received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the
door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is
done in secret, will reward you. When you fast, do not look sombre as the
hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show men they are fasting. I
tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. But when you fast,
put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to men
that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen; and your Father,
who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.
(Matthew 6:1-6.16-18)
Call to holinessReligious myth is defined in different
ways. In general a ‘religious myth’ is a religious story (of, say, the origins) and the
‘story’ could well be historically true. More commonly it is a story which in
some respects is historically and scientifically true, while in others it is, we
might say, allegorical. For long periods of history and in various societies,
religious myths were the fruit of the religious mind and imagination, and had
little or nothing in them of hard fact. The concern driving and creating the
myth was not for scientific fact and
strict history but for meaning and significance. Most of the myths of the
Australian Aboriginal Dreaming, for instance, are of this latter order. One of the markers
differentiating an age or stage of this latter kind of religious myth from one
in which the concern is for objective fact, is the discovery and insistence on
physical laws. The course of events is seen to be dependent not primarily on the
intervention and action of the various gods or higher spirits (say, the god of
the sea or of war) but on physical laws. These laws are objective, they are
capable of being investigated, and they determine the course of the world. A
disastrous tidal wave is not due to the irritation of the god Neptune, but to
laws of crustal movements and wave propagation in the sea. The fact of objective
physical laws is a cornerstone of Western culture. I mention the rise of the
appreciation of physical laws as an
introduction to another kind of law which, though objective, is often not
appreciated
in modern culture - and even rejected. I refer to the natural moral law. What supports the modern
insistence on physical law and historical fact is that it is empirically
verifiable. The modern assumption is that it is only what is empirically
verifiable that is factual. But what is empirically verifiable about “goodness”?
It is empirically verifiable if “goodness” is reduced to the “useful.” If the
law stating that you must be good and not evil is a statement of what will be
advantageous for your happiness, then this law is deemed verifiable and
therefore acceptable.
This is one reason — though not the only
one — why the notion of a natural moral law is viewed with suspicion. But of
course the evidence for the natural moral law is everywhere. Whether or not
there is legislation to support it, all know that you must not murder. You must
not lie or steal. The whole world regards Hitler and Stalin with moral disdain.
These two ogres, and others besides, should not have done what they did. The
natural moral law is objective and absolute, though not physical. Nor does it
ultimately consist in personal advantage. It is absolute, whether or not it is
of advantage. The fundamental natural law is that man must do what is good and
avoid what is evil. If a man does this he will be good himself — and this he
must strive to be. It is a natural law — not a natural physical law, but a
natural law of the moral order. While in his heart man senses that his happiness
depends on his being good, this law commanding goodness cannot be reduced to a
judgment of what ultimately will serve his happiness. Further, within this
natural moral law that the mind and heart of man promulgates, there is a
summons. It is the summons to be as good as possible and to avoid evil as much
as possible. Man is naturally called — commanded, we might say — to be good and
holy. Indeed, this is the fundamental law that man is aware of, even more so
than the physical laws that govern his life and his world. He is commanded from
his depths to be good, and he desires from his depths to be good. He has a
natural aspiration to holiness and this natural law is confirmed by God himself
who in his revelation commands holiness. Be holy, he said, for I am holy — and
this is done by observing his commandments. But how is this to be done, because
man observes within himself yet another law fighting against the natural moral
law commanding goodness? It is a law of self-seeking that drags him along into
sin, and which prompts him to reject, deny and be suspicious of the higher law
within him that summons him to be good by doing what is good.
At the start of Lent, the Church reminds
us that Christ has made holiness possible for us, and that “now is the
favourable time; this is the day of salvation” (II Corinthians 6:2). Lent is a
time of special grace and opportunity, and we must seize the chance. It is the
chance to grow in what we most need, in what we most want, and in what is most
required of us: goodness. God is active in our lives leading us to sanctity, but
we must do our part. The Church identifies three areas of struggle and effort:
prayer, penance, and practical charity, and our Lord comments on each in our
Gospel passage today (Matthew 6: 1-6.16-18).
The danger will be that we will not get down to it, but leave it all for another
day. Thus life will pass and our yearnings will come to nothing.
(E.J.Tyler)
"I
would like you to behave as Peter and John did — speaking to Jesus about the
needs of your friends and colleagues as you pray. And then with your example you
will be able to say to them: look at me!"
(The Forge, no.36)
The
human mind cannot keep from speculating and systematizing; and if Theology is
not allowed to occupy its own territory, adjacent sciences, nay, sciences which
are quite foreign to Theology, will take possession of it.
(February 18) Blessed John of Fiesole
(Fra Angelico) (c. 1400-1455)
The patron of Christian artists was born around 1400 in a village overlooking
Florence. He took up painting as a young boy and studied
under the watchful eye
of a local painting master. He joined the Dominicans at about age 20, taking the
name Fra Giovanni. He eventually came to be known as Fra Angelico, perhaps a
tribute to his own angelic qualities or maybe the devotional tone of his works.
He continued to study painting and perfect his own techniques, which included
broad-brush strokes, vivid colors and generous, lifelike figures. Michelangelo
once said of Fra Angelico: “One has to believe that this good monk has visited
paradise and been allowed to choose his models there.” Whatever his subject
matter, Fra Angelico sought to generate feelings of religious devotion in
response to his paintings. Among his most famous works are the Annunciation and
Descent from the Cross as well as frescoes in the monastery of San Marco in
Florence. He also served in leadership positions within the Dominican Order. At
one point Pope Eugenius approached him about serving as archbishop of Florence.
Fra Angelico declined, preferring a simpler life. He died in 1455.
(AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today:
Deuteronomy 30:15-20; Psalm 1:1-4 and 6 ; Luke 9:22-25
And Jesus said, The Son of Man must
suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, chief priests and teachers of
the law, and he must be put to death and on the third day be raised to life.
Then he said to them all: If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself
and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life
will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it. What good is it
for a man to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit his very self?
(Luke 9:22-25)
Suffering In a very technological age there is a
question that would not occur to lots of people as they contemplate the world.
It is this: why is there anything at all? For many people such a question simply
does not arise. The world is a fact of life and there is nothing more to be said
except to investigate it, understand its laws, and then to use it. But it is
obvious that just as individual things need not exist because, after all, they
come to be and pass away, so too the total ensemble of things — the world — need
not exist. So why is there anything, then? Putting it starkly, why is there not
nothing, nothing at all? Such a question prompts the thought of the existence of
the Creator. Well now, if we shift our gaze from the world to the suffering and
evil that is in the world, it is obvious that these sufferings and evils present
a massive problem to man. Again, a similar question arises, why is there all
this suffering and evil? This ought lead to a great interest in the answer
provided by Revelation, that it was due not to the Creator but to the Fall of
man at the beginning. This, of course, does not solve the problem because the
obvious question is that if God were all-loving and almighty, then could he not
have “fixed it all up” immediately — or done something else to free the world
from all its suffering? There is not the space to pursue this here because, to
begin with, if we grant a loving Creator, we could not fully understand why he
permits such great sufferings. But then, our best chance of gaining some light
on things is not to pursue a mere philosophical consideration of the matter but
to consider things in the light of the person of Jesus Christ. After all, the
claim is that this man was God and he suffered enormously. He did not “deserve”
to suffer at all. Why was it permitted that this extraordinary Man suffer so
greatly? If we look on the world as present in microcosm, as it were, in the
person of Jesus Christ — then Jesus Christ throws light on the suffering in the
world generally. He is the light of the world. There are two sides to the
answer. Jesus Christ suffered manifestly because of sin inflicted on him from
without, and it was because of his suffering that the world was redeemed from
its sin.
So suffering is indeed a dark,
unfortunate and terrible fact. Its origins lie in sin and not in the will of the
Creator. As we contemplate the figure of the sinless Jesus Christ on the Cross,
this is the first thing that bears upon us. Suffering and evil comes from sin,
and this sin is terrible. Its manifestation is the passion and death of the
all-holy Christ. That having been said, in a more important sense, the passion
and death of Jesus Christ — symbolic, we might say, of the sufferings of mankind
— are shimmering with light and joy. It was precisely through his sufferings,
borne in a spirit of absolute and loving obedience to his heavenly Father, that
the world was redeemed. Has there ever been any other theory proposed to take
away the sin of the world? As far as I am aware, no such theory exists. The only
comprehensive proposal for mankind’s radical and complete redemption from sin is
the Christian one, and this pivots around the sufferings of Jesus Christ. By his
passion and death — so extraordinary, so undeserved — he took away the sin of
the world, and then set in motion the means to bring this Blessing to all of
creation. The one who believes will be saved, he said, and the one who wilfully
refuses will be condemned. It is a mighty answer involving an incalculable cost,
and yet one that is astonishingly simple for each individual. But it pivots
around the sufferings and death of Jesus Christ. Why is such suffering permitted
in the world? Look at Jesus Christ and ask why it was permitted that he suffer
so much. He suffered so much in order to achieve so much. His sufferings brought
an eternal Blessing to man. So, suffering — that suffering that flows from
obedience to the will of God — is now not fundamentally a Curse, but
fundamentally a path to blessings. If we suffer in union with Jesus we shall
rise and reign in union with him. “If anyone would come after me, he must deny
himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his
life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it”
(Luke 9: 22-25).
If we want to understand man and the
meaning of what makes up his life, especially his sufferings, then look to Jesus
Christ. He is not only the revelation of God, but the true revelation of man. He
stated repeatedly to his disciples that it was necessary for the Son of Man to
suffer in order to enter into his glory. Somehow we must get it into our heads
and into our hearts that the path to glory is through obedient suffering. The
Cross of Christ is both dark and bright. It reveals the basic source of
suffering, but it also reveals what can now be its fundamental consequence. Let
us place our hand in the hand of Jesus Christ and walk with him along the path
he chose for us.
(E.J.Tyler)
Reflection on the first reading
"Here, then, I have today set before you
life and prosperity, death and doom."
(Deuteronomy 30: 15-20)
The basic issues It is possible for a
person to be carried along in life by circumstances, opportunities and
disappointments, while failing to recognize the fundamental issues in life and
to make the appropriate choices. The real issue is, what kind of person shall he
be and what path shall he choose to be his? The reading from the Old Testament
book of Deuteronomy places before the fundamental issues and the basic choices
we have to make if our life is to have lasting value. "See, today I set before
you life and prosperity, death and disaster. If you obey the commandments of the
Lord your God that I enjoin on you today, if you love the Lord your God and
follow his ways, if you keep his commandments, his laws, his customs, you will
live and increase... But if your heart strays, if you refuse to listen, .... I
tell you today, you will most certainly perish"
(Deuteronomy 30: 15-20).
The most radical issue is the choice between obeying God and refusing to do so.
As the first reading explains this is, in effect, the choice between life and
death. It is the bedrock issue, for the choice has far reaching consequences for
this life, and eternal consequences for the next. Our ultimate future depends
not on circumstances, but on our own choosing. It depends on the exercise of
personal freedom, and not on good or bad luck. During Lent, as from today, let
us endeavour to see the fundamental issues in their stark reality. We have a
clear-cut choice: to set out to love God by obeying him, or we can refuse to do
so. Lent is the favourable time of God's grace to make the right choice and to
live it out with our whole heart.
(E.J.Tyler)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When you love somebody very much, you want to know everything about him.
Meditate on this: Do you feel a hunger to know Christ? Because that is the
measure of your love for him."
(The Forge, no.37)
The test of our being joined to Christ is love; the test of love towards Christ
and his Church, is loving those whom we actually see … Let us feel tenderly
affectioned towards all whom Christ has made His own by Baptism. Let us
sympathize with them, and have kind thoughts towards them, and be warm-hearted,
and loving, and simple-minded, and gentle-tempered towards them, and consult for
their good, and pray for their growth in faith and holiness. “Let us not love in
word, neither in tongue, but in deed and in truth.” [1 John 3: 18]
JHN, from the sermon ‘The Communion of Saints’ (1837)
(February 19) St. Conrad of Piacenza (1290-1350)
Born of a noble family in northern Italy, Conrad as a young man married
Euphrosyne, daughter of a nobleman. One day while hunting he ordered attendants
to set fire to some brush in order to flush out the game. The fire spread to
nearby fields and to a large forest. Conrad fled. An innocent peasant was
imprisoned, tortured to confess and condemned to death. Conrad confessed his
guilt, saved the man’s life and paid for the damaged property. Soon after this
event, Conrad and his wife agreed to separate: she to a Poor Clare monastery and
he to a group of hermits following the Third Order Rule. His reputation for
holiness, however, spread quickly. Since his many visitors destroyed his
solitude, Conrad went to a more remote spot in Sicily where he lived 36 years as
a hermit, praying for himself and for the rest of the world. Prayer and penance
were his answer to the temptations that beset him. Conrad died kneeling before a
crucifix. He was canonized in 1625. (AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today: Isaiah 58:1-9; Psalm 51:3-4,
5-6ab, 18-19; Matthew 9:14-15
Then John's disciples came and asked
him, How is it that we and the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not fast?
Jesus answered, How can the guests of the bridegroom mourn while he is with
them? The time will come when the bridegroom will be taken from them; then they
will fast. (Matthew 9:14-15)
Self-denialIt is interesting that for all the
praise accorded by our Lord to John the Baptist, and for all the profound and
unequivocal deference shown to our Lord by John, hardly any conversation between
them is recorded in the Gospels. The one notable conversation that is recorded
is brief and unambiguous: John is in confusion at the sudden prospect of
baptizing Jesus. He himself is the sinner, he says to Jesus, and it is he who
ought be baptized — with Jesus doing the baptizing. But Jesus insists that it go
ahead. What a magnificent disciple John would have made
— but it was not the
plan of God. The paradigm was more that of the prophetic mantle passing from
Elijah to Elisha. Jesus the Messiah receives the prophetic mantle from John, the
Elijah who was to come. A further thing is to be noted. Later in the Gospel,
John appears confused and uncertain about the ministry of Jesus as it begins to
unfold. From prison he sends his disciples to Jesus with a formal enquiry: was
he, after all, the one who was to come? In our Gospel passage today
(Matthew 9: 14-15), it is the disciples of
John who are puzzled, and it concerns the lack of vigour in fasting they see
among our Lord’s disciples. They could not understand this glaring omission, and
they presented their perplexity to our Lord himself. In his response, our Lord
makes two points. Firstly, while he, the Bridegroom, is with his disciples how
could they do anything but live and rejoice in his friendship? Secondly, when he
is gone, they certainly will fast. The first thing, then, is that he himself,
being the Bridegroom, is the all-important feature of religion among his
disciples. Expressing it differently, the heart, soul and centre of Christianity
is the very person of Jesus, for he is the Bridegroom. In fact, these are the
very terms in which the religion of the Old Testament is described by the
prophets: God is the Husband and Bridegroom of his people, and therefore their
failures in religion are failures in nuptial fidelity. Our Lord himself occupies
this place in the new dispensation, for he is the Bridegroom of the new covenant
that is coming.
Christ is telling the disciples of John
that the all-important thing for his disciples at this point is to attain a
profound realization of his own person and an understanding that eternal life
consists in knowing him. He is the Way, the Truth and the Life. As he would say
in his prayer during the Last Supper, “This is eternal life: to know you, the
only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you sent” (John 17: 3). But the time would
soon come when he would be taken away from them. Then they will indeed be
expected to “fast,” which is to say to live lives of genuine self-denial. While
gone from them visibly, he would then be with them in the power of the Holy
Spirit. Then they would have the God-given grace and capacity to follow him
generously and in all the elements of a fervent religion. "Then they will fast."
Our Lord never disputed with the disciples of John nor with the Pharisees that
they should fast. He unmasked the hypocrisy of the Pharisees in their fasting:
they fasted, but did so in order to win the acclaim of men. But he assumed that
all would pray, that all would fast, and that all would give alms. When you
fast, he said, do not put on a gloomy look as the hypocrites do. They have had
their reward. In fact, we see our Lord teaching his disciples repeatedly that he
himself must follow the path of suffering unto death. It was absolutely
essential to his mission precisely as the Bridegroom that he lay down his life
for all. To be a disciple of the Bridegroom entails renouncing oneself, taking
up one's cross daily, and following in his footsteps. By our baptism and
confirmation we have been given the Holy Spirit to enable us to pursue this
redemptive path generously each day. Thus it is that throughout Christian
history the heroes of Christian life have been profoundly penitential. In their
various ways and in accord with their varied vocations, they have suffered and
died in union with their crucified Master. The icon of the Christian is the
crucifix, with the figure of Jesus hanging battered and dead thereon. He has
gone from us visibly, and now we must follow in his footsteps. That is to say,
we must “fast.”
Do I recognise in myself a constant
unwillingness to embark on any form of self-denial? Well, let me start in little
ways. I shall start by bearing patiently the difficulties and circumstances
inherent in my daily work and life, and offer it all to God in union with Jesus.
I shall start with a determined effort to do something about the fault that is
particularly persistent in my life. I shall also start with a few voluntary
mortifications, such as doing without some luxury. The virtue of self-denial
will then grow, and Lent, the time of grace, will bring the blessing of an
advance in holiness. Jesus is the centre of religion, and he has shown me the
way: it is the way to Calvary.
(E.J.Tyler)
People who say that we priests are lonely are either lying or have got it all
wrong. We are far less lonely than anyone else, for we can count on the constant
company of the Lord, with whom we should be conversing without interruption.
—We are in love with Love, with the Author of Love!
(The Forge, no.38)
O Holy Mother, stand by me now at Mass time, when Christ comes to me, as thou
didst minister to Thy infant Lord—as Thou didst hang upon His words when He grew
up, as Thou wast found under His cross. Stand by me, Holy Mother, that I may
gain somewhat of thy purity, thy innocence, thy faith, and He may be the one
object of my love and my adoration, as He was of thine.
(February 20) Blessed Jacinta (1910-1920) and Francisco Marto (1908-1919) Between May 13 and October 13, 1917, three children, Portuguese shepherds from
Aljustrel, received apparitions of Our Lady at Cova da Iria, near Fatima, a city
110 miles north of Lisbon. At that time, Europe was involved in an extremely
bloody war. Portugal itself was in political turmoil, having overthrown its
monarchy in 1910; the government disbanded religious organizations soon after.
At the first appearance, Mary asked the children to return to that spot on
the
thirteenth of each month for the next six months. She also asked them to learn
to read and write and to pray the rosary “to obtain peace for the world and the
end of the war.” They were to pray for sinners and for the conversion of Russia,
which had recently overthrown Czar Nicholas II and was soon to fall under
communism. Up to 90,000 people gathered for Mary’s final apparition on October
13, 1917. Less than two years later, Francisco died of influenza in his family
home. He was buried in the parish cemetery and then re-buried in the Fatima
basilica in 1952. Jacinta died of influenza in Lisbon, offering her suffering
for the conversion of sinners, peace in the world and the Holy Father. She was
re-buried in the Fatima basilica in 1951. Their cousin, Lucia dos Santos, became
a Carmelite nun and was still living when Jacinta and Francisco were beatified
in 2000. Sister Lucia died five years later. The shrine of Our Lady of Fatima is
visited by up to 20 million people a year. (AmericanCatholic.org)
After this, Jesus went out and saw a tax
collector by the name of Levi sitting at his tax booth. Follow me, Jesus said to
him, and Levi got up, left everything and followed him. Then Levi held a great
banquet for Jesus at his house, and a large crowd of tax collectors and others
were eating with them. But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law who
belonged to their sect complained to his disciples, Why do you eat and drink
with tax collectors and 'sinners'? Jesus answered them, It is not the healthy
who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but
sinners to repentance. (Luke 5: 27-32)
Sense of sinOur Gospel scene today is one of simple
beauty. We read in the Gospel of St John (2:24-25) that our Lord did not need
anyone to tell him what was in a man. He could read their hearts. In our text
today we read that Jesus “went out” of the house where he had been teaching, and
where he had cured the paralytic and forgiven his sins. He saw a tax collector
at his workplace and simply said to him “Follow me.” We are not told that our
Lord had had prior contact with him — as he had, for instance, with Simon and
Andrew, and James and John, soon after his baptism by John. Our Lord uttered two
words of call and Levi “got up, left everything and followed him.” It was a
remarkable response, just as it was a remarkable call. We could ask why our Lord
chose to call such a person as Levi — whom most identify with the author of the
first Gospel — when he, Levi, had such an odious profession. It is the mystery
of divine vocations and the same question could be asked of countless others in
the course of history. They received a call from Christ to follow him closely
when there was little to recommend them. But let us consider Levi and ask, what
was it in him that helps to account for the alacrity of his response? One of our
Lord’s parables may give us a clue because in that parable the most admirable
character is a tax collector. The parable presents us with two people — the one
who was religious by very profession, and the one who by virtue of his
profession was an obvious sinner. It is the parable of the Pharisee and the Tax
Collector, each praying in the Temple. At the end of the story, the Tax
Collector goes home right with God, while the Pharisee does not. The reason why
the Tax Collector is in union with God is because his prayer is a humble
profession of personal sinfulness, together with a heartfelt prayer for pardon.
The Pharisee has no consciousness of sin. He is simply conscious of the good
things he believes he is doing. He is not like the despised Tax Collector whom
he sees well behind him and hidden away from obvious view in the Temple.
There are other examples of this sense
of personal sin. In this same Gospel of St Luke the Pharisees and the lawyers
are contrasted with the tax collectors who accepted the baptism of John (7:29).
In our Gospel today (Luke 5: 27-32), Levi's
tax collector friends flocked to be part of the banquet Levi put on for our
Lord. He and they loved our Lord. His was not the only case. We remember how a
chief tax collector, Zacchaeus, responded to our Lord's friendship. Our Lord
invited himself to Zacchaeus' house for dinner, and Zacchaeus responded
magnificently, welcoming our Lord warmly, giving half his goods to the poor, and
repaying fourfold those he had unjustly cheated (Luke 19: 8). It seems that Luke
in compiling his Gospel was interested in the response of the tax collectors,
well known sinners, to the all-holy Jesus. No one was excluded from friendship
with our Lord. Luke’s account of the call of Levi may be regarded as a paradigm
of Christ’s attitude to sinners and of the chance that they have to repent and
give themselves totally to the person and mission of Jesus. Is there a key to
understanding the immediacy of the response of Levi and many regarded as
sinners? At least one key was their consciousness of sin and their desire for
pardon. Christ with his holiness and his compassion was the manifest answer to
their need. They knew they had a tremendous need for redemption, for holiness,
and therefore for Jesus. They were conscious of personal sin, and Jesus exuded
holiness. Their response was immediate when the invitation came. This sense of
need was lacking in many of the Pharisees and teachers of the law. Let us notice
too that John the Baptist, the one who pointed Jesus out as the Lamb of God who
would take away the sin of the world, had himself a profound sense of sin. In
the one recorded conversation we have between Jesus and John, John shows his
sense of personal sin. It is I who ought be baptized by you, he said to Jesus
when Jesus presented himself for baptism. I am not fit to undo his sandal
straps, John said in referring to the coming Messiah.
Let us learn from Levi and his immediate
and total response to the call of Jesus. If this is to happen we must cultivate
a deep sense of our own sinfulness and need of the friendship and grace of Jesus
Christ. Lent is the time for acknowledging sin, seeking God’s pardon, and
hearing the call of Christ to be his friend and share in his mission. Let us be
like Levi who “got up, left everything and followed him.”
(E.J.Tyler)
A second reflection for Saturday after Ash Wednesday
Levi got up, left everything and
followed him. (Luke 5:27-32)
Levi’s responseThe great and ever pressing issue of
each day is the call of God to each of us that we be striving for authentic
holiness. We are called to be saints, hidden, known as such only to God, but
saints nevertheless. The saint is one who loves God with all his heart; who
expresses this love in the generous fulfilment of daily duties; and who is
prepared to struggle to bring this about — with the grace of God. Why is it that
we make so little progress? All too often it is because the pattern of our life
does not reflect what Levi did when our Lord said to him, “Follow me.” Levi left
everything and got up and followed him. That disposition to leave all was what
our Lord wanted. With that readiness to respond to his call immediately our Lord
could lead Levi on to sanctity and to a total following in his footsteps. By
contrast consider the rich young man. He came to our Lord and asked what he had
to do to gain eternal life. Our Lord invited him to leave all and to follow him.
But he went away sad.
During this Lent let us resolve to leave behind what is preventing us from a
total following of the Master each day. In this lies the grandeur or ordinary
life. Let what we see in Levi’s response to our Lord’s call be the pattern of
our lives.
"I see myself like a poor little bird, accustomed only to making short flights
from tree to tree, or, at most, up to a third floor balcony.
One day in its life
it succeeded in reaching the roof of a modest building that you could hardly
call a sky-scraper. Suddenly our little bird is snatched up by an eagle, who
mistakes the bird for one of its own brood. In its powerful talons the bird is
borne higher and higher, above the mountains of the earth and the snow-capped
peaks, above the white, blue and rose-pink clouds, and higher and higher until
it can look right into the sun. And then the eagle lets go of the little bird
and says: Off you go. Fly! Lord, may I never flutter again close to the ground.
May I always be enlightened by the rays of the divine sun — Christ — in the
Eucharist. May my flight never be interrupted until I find repose in your
Heart."
(The Forge, no.39)
The Catholic Creed, as coming from God, is so harmonious, so consistent with
itself, holds together so perfectly, so corresponds part to part, that an acute
mind, knowing one portion of it, would often infer another portion, merely as a
matter of just reasoning.
JHN, from the discourse ‘Illuminating Grace’ (1849)
Prayers this Sunday:
When he calls to me, I will answer; I
will rescue him and give him honour. Long life and contentment will be his.
Father, through our observance of Lent, help us to understand the meaning of
your Son's death and resurrection, and teach us to reflect it in our lives. We
ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ your Son, in the unity of the Holy
Spirit.
(February 21) St. Peter Damian (1007-1072)
Maybe because he was orphaned and had been treated shabbily by one of his
brothers, Peter Damian was very good to the poor. It was the ordinary thing for
him to have a poor person or two with him at table and he liked to minister
personally to their needs. Peter escaped poverty and the neglect of his own
brother when his other brother, who was archpriest of Ravenna, took him under
his wing.
His brother sent him to good schools and Peter became a professor.
Already in those days Peter was very strict with himself. He wore a hair shirt
under his clothes, fasted rigorously and spent many hours in prayer. Soon, he
decided to leave his teaching and give himself completely to prayer with the
Benedictines of the reform of St. Romuald at Fonte Avellana. They lived two
monks to a hermitage. Peter was so eager to pray and slept so little that he
soon suffered from severe insomnia. He found he had to use some prudence in
taking care of himself. When he was not praying, he studied the Bible. The abbot
commanded that when he died Peter should succeed him. Abbot Peter founded five
other hermitages. He encouraged his brothers in a life of prayer and solitude
and wanted nothing more for himself. The Holy See periodically called on him,
however, to be a peacemaker or troubleshooter, between two abbeys in dispute or
a cleric or government official in some disagreement with Rome. Finally, Pope
Stephen IX made Peter the cardinal-bishop of Ostia. He worked hard to wipe out
simony (the buying of church offices), and encouraged his priests to observe
celibacy and urged even the diocesan clergy to live together and maintain
scheduled prayer and religious observance. He wished to restore primitive
discipline among religious and priests, warning against needless travel,
violations of poverty and too comfortable living. He even wrote to the bishop of
Besancon, complaining that the canons there sat down when they were singing the
psalms in the Divine Office. He wrote many letters. Some 170 are extant. We also
have 53 of his sermons and seven lives, or biographies, that he wrote. He
preferred examples and stories rather than theory in his writings. The
liturgical offices he wrote are evidence of his talent as a stylist in Latin. He
asked often to be allowed to retire as cardinal-bishop of Ostia, and finally
Alexander II consented. Peter was happy to become once again just a monk, but he
was still called to serve as a papal legate. When returning from such an
assignment in Ravenna, he was overcome by a fever. With the monks gathered
around him saying the Divine Office, he died on February 22, 1072. In 1828 he
was declared a Doctor of the Church. (AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today: Deuteronomy 26:4-10; Psalm
91:1-2, 10-15; Rom 10:8-13; Luke 4:1-13
Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned
from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the desert, where for forty days he
was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing during those days, and at the end of
them he was hungry. The devil said to him, If you are the Son of God, tell this
stone to become bread. Jesus answered, It is written: 'Man does not live on
bread alone.' The devil led him up to a high place and showed him in an instant
all the kingdoms of the world. And he said to him, I will give you all their
authority and splendour, for it has been given to me, and I can give it to
anyone I want to. So if you worship me, it will all be yours. Jesus answered, It
is written: 'Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.' The devil led him to
Jerusalem and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. If you are the
Son of God, he said, throw yourself down from here. For it is written: 'He will
command his angels concerning you to guard you carefully; they will lift you up
in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.' Jesus
answered, It says: 'Do not put the Lord your God to the test.' When the devil
had finished all this tempting, he left him until an opportune time.
(Luke 4: 1-13)
TemptationOn this first Sunday of Lent there is
placed before us a remarkable Gospel scene. The all-holy God had become man and,
immersed in our human condition, was being tempted to swerve from his
divinely-appointed path. The temptation did not arise from disordered interior
impulses as it usually does with us, but directly from Satan. The Redeemer of
man, though himself sinless, shared sinful man’s lot of being tempted! As we
think of the vast ocean of human history, we also think of the vast sea of human
temptation, of which any number of examples could be given. I once read of a
girl of six who saw her family fall apart. After the divorce her father was
gone. She lived with her mother in a poor flat where she could hear the rats
eating their way in through the floorboards. In school she worked hard and did
poorly. Because her parents were divorced, she felt like an outcast. ‘If there
is a God,’ she said, ‘then why am I so different, why don’t I have a family?’
She was tempted against faith. On top of this, she developed a serious stomach
illness, and had no money for doctors. Then, without any conscious faith, she
got a prayer card and started a novena to St Therese of the Child Jesus. On the
ninth day she was cured, and then she knew from personal experience that there
was a God who cared. She grew up and now she is known to millions of viewers as
the nun Mother Angelica, who has written numerous small books, and who most
notably began the famous EWTN TV network to teach others about the God who loves
and cares for us. Due to strokes and bad health she retired in 2001 to the
seclusion of her monastery, but the programmes of her network are watched all
over the world. The network continues to expand. Time Magazine once described
Mother Angelica as "arguably the most influential Roman Catholic woman in
America." The point here is that she too shared in the common lot of being
tempted. Due to her experience of suffering and evil she was tempted not to
believe in God. By the power of grace she overcame the temptation and went on to
a magnificent service of Christ and his Church.
Our Lord allowed himself to be tempted,
as we read in the Gospel (Luke 4:1-13). We
could tend to think of our Lord as being like us in all things except in being
tempted. No. He was like to us in all things except in having sinned. Never
having been touched by original or personal sin — impossible for God the Son — his temptations could never have arisen from any inner disorder as is the case
with us. However, as man he allowed himself to be tempted by Satan. Presumably
Satan expended all his dark talent, all his long experience at lies and
seduction, all his most subtle devices to trip Christ up, aiming perhaps at our
Lord’s high and loving zeal for mankind. He perhaps could see that he had no
chance of leading Christ into self-seeking. Perhaps his strategy was to
insinuate more effective methods of commanding the allegiance of the world for
his purposes. “Make it easy for them, all these people you dream of benefiting.
If you do not, they will not follow you. In any case, do not overdo it. Your
task need not crush you. Create food by miracles on these very stones. Perform
displays and spectacles and in everything be magnificent. Especially,
acknowledge me and I promise to give you the world.” Satan was tempting the Son
of God to follow a path which was not that of his heavenly Father. These
temptations would recur again and again, and they would come not only from
Satan, but even from his dearest friends. When Peter tried to persuade our Lord
to avoid the cross and death, our Lord called him Satan. Our Lord resisted
absolutely the temptation to take any easy way, and also any temptation to give
us, his disciples, the easy way. Precisely because he was tempted — perhaps
mightily in view of the mighty task and sufferings ahead of him — he shows us
the way. St Augustine writes that by being tempted, Christ shows us how to
triumph over temptation. Lent is the holy season when we go into the desert with
Jesus, praying, doing penance and uncovering the deceits into which we have
fallen. Temptations are deceits: by giving in to the temptation we gradually
convince ourselves that what we want is not wrong but right. Satan makes himself
like an angel of light.
On this first Sunday of Lent, the example of Jesus provides us with an agenda
for Lent. We must unmask temptations, be alert to them, resist them, and avoid
them. They can lead to sin. Satan is smiling behind them. We must be very canny
about temptations to sin, and never give any quarter to them, no matter how
minor. It is an ambition that ought be growing during life and for this we must
have the example of Jesus, and the gift of his grace won for us by his obedient
sufferings. His example is given to us in the Gospels, and his grace is given to
us in the Church’s Sacraments. During Lent let us enter wholeheartedly into this
all-important program of life.
(E.J.Tyler)
Further reading: The Catechism of the Catholic Church,
no.2846-2854 (Temptation)
"Filled with the Holy Spirit, Jesus left
the Jordan and was led by the Spirit through the wilderness, being tempted by
the devil for forty days." (Luke 4:1-13)
Christ’s workIn the inspired memory of the Old
Testament, the liberation of God’s people from their slavery in Egypt was the
mightiest of God’s works. As the first reading puts it, “The Lord heard our
voice and saw our misery, our toil and oppression; and the Lord brought us out
of Egypt with mighty hand and outstretched arm” (Deuteronomy 26:4-10). This
pointed to what was to come, but which would be on a far grander scale. It would
be a liberating act again, but of far greater significance for sinful man. The
liberation would be from the slavery to sin. Both were mighty works, but the
later work, the work of Christ, would have several special characteristics. One
would be its cost to God. The Old Testament accounts of God liberating his
enslaved people do not give the impression that it cost God greatly. Rather,
they reveal directly his great compassion and overwhelming power. He was the
greatest of saviours, his power showing itself in his mercy. But with Christ,
what is directly revealed is God’s readiness to suffer indescribably and in this
way to atone for the sins of man. God’s power is shown in a love that suffers
personally. God’s mighty power was manifest in the extent of the sacrifice he
himself made and what it cost him. In the Old Testament God’s mighty work was
liberating his people from physical slavery. In the New, God’s mighty work was
to suffer and to atone for the sin of mankind. It was to take away the sin of
the world — it was the greatest work ever done in history.
But there is another aspect of this work which cost God so much. It was his
contest with Satan, which makes its first appearance right at the start of our
Lord’s public ministry, as reported in the Gospel of today. In the former
liberation from slavery, the Pharaoh was the oppressor and opponent of God’s
plans. In the redemptive work of Christ Satan was the oppressor and the
opponent, and Satan makes his appearance in a way and at a scale he never did in
the Old Testament. The Gospel of today places before us the two antagonists.
Satan tempted Christ repeatedly to swerve from the will of the Father, and each
time he was repelled (Luke 4:1-13). Christ
would be obedient unto death. Just as Pharaoh loaded the children of Israel with
burdens and indignities, so Satan poured burdens and indignities on Christ, the
redeeming representative of man. And Christ accepted the burden for it was the
burden of the sin of the world. Let us show in our lives the readiness to suffer
with Christ for our own sins and the sins of others. Let us be ready to follow
Christ in the work of atonement. Let us also manifest in our lives a vigorous
fight against sin and Satan, overcoming him by our daily obedience to God.
That friend of ours would finish his prayer in this way: “I love the Will of my
God and that is why, abandoning myself completely into his hands, I pray that he
may lead me however and wherever he likes.”
(The Forge, no.40)
No one has power over nature but He who made it. None can work a miracle but
God. When miracles are wrought it is a proof that God is present. And therefore
it is that, whenever God visits the earth, He works miracles. It is the claim He
makes upon our attention. He thereby reminds us that He is the Creator.
JHN, from the sermon ‘The Omnipotence of God the Reason for Faith and Hope’
(1848)
(February 22) The Chair of Peter
Like the committee chair, this feast refers to the occupant. It commemorates
Christ’s choosing Peter to sit in his place as the servant-authority of the
whole Church (see June 29).
After the “lost weekend” of pain, doubt and self-torment, Peter hears the Good
News. Angels at the tomb say to Mary Magdalene, “The Lord has risen! Go, tell
his disciples and Peter.” John relates that when he and Peter
ran to the tomb,
the younger outraced the older, then waited for him. Peter entered, saw the
wrappings on the ground, the headpiece rolled up in a place by itself. John saw
and believed. But he adds a reminder: “..They did not yet understand the
scripture that he had to rise from the dead” (John 20:9). They went home. There
the slowly exploding, impossible idea became reality. Jesus appeared to them as
they waited fearfully behind locked doors. “Peace be with you,” he said (John
20:21b), and they rejoiced. The Pentecost event completed Peter’s experience of
the risen Christ. “...They were all filled with the holy Spirit” (Acts 2:4a) and
began to express themselves in foreign tongues and make bold proclamation as the
Spirit prompted them. Only then can Peter fulfill the task Jesus had given him:
“... Once you have turned back, you must strengthen your brothers” (Luke 22:32).
He at once becomes the spokesman for the Twelve about their experience of the
Holy Spirit—before the civil authorities who wished to quash their preaching,
before the council of Jerusalem, for the community in the problem of Ananias and
Sapphira. He is the first to preach the Good News to the Gentiles. The healing
power of Jesus in him is well attested: the raising of Tabitha from the dead,
the cure of the crippled beggar. People carry the sick into the streets so that
when Peter passed his shadow might fall on them.
At the end of John’s Gospel, Jesus says to Peter, “Amen, amen, I say to you,
when you were younger, you used to dress yourself and go where you wanted; but
when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress
you and lead you where you do not want to go” (John 21:18). What Jesus said
indicated the sort of death by which Peter was to glorify God. On Vatican Hill,
in Rome, during the reign of Nero, Peter did glorify his Lord with a martyr’s
death, probably in the company of many Christians. Second-century Christians
built a small memorial over his burial spot. In the fourth century, the Emperor
Constantine built a basilica, which was replaced in the 16th century.
(AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today: 1 Peter 5:1-4; Psalm 23:1-6; Matthew 16:13-19
When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, Who
do people say the Son of Man is? They replied, Some say John the Baptist; others
say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets. But what about
you? he asked. Who do you say I am? Simon Peter answered, You are the Christ,
the Son of the living God. Jesus replied, Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah,
for this was not revealed to you by man, but by my Father in heaven. And I tell
you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates
of Hades will not overcome it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of
heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you
loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. (Matthew 16:13-19)
The Chair of PeterI have often been impressed with the simplicity of the Christian
message as expressed in Christian leaflets left in letterboxes of suburban
homes. The short leaflets are generally made of glossy paper, with attractive
diagrams and colouring, and are expressed in simple, pithy language. The
principal doctrines of the Christian religion are expressed in terms of a
compelling system. There is sin and its consequences, and this dire situation is
answered by the Atonement of Jesus Christ and the gift of his Holy Spirit.
Then
there is the call to conversion and a new life, setting the Christian on the way
to Heaven. The strength of the message is the call to the individual to turn to
Jesus Christ as Saviour and to resolve to follow him and his written word in
one’s personal life, and of course to do this in some form of fellowship. The
leaflets I am thinking of are obviously productions of Evangelical Christians
and their dedication and strategy are laudable. There is, though, an assumption
in their message which may not be immediately obvious. In urging the reader (or
hearer) to turn to Jesus and to accept him as Lord, it is intimated that being a
Christian is simply an affair between Jesus and the Christian. That is to say,
in the plan of God the Christian religion is nothing other than this living
interpersonal relationship between Jesus and me. More specifically, provided I
convert and follow Jesus and his word as I read it in the inspired Scriptures, I
may take “the Church” to be largely a product of individual preference and
circumstances. While the Church is important for fellowship and ongoing
spiritual guidance, there is nothing divinely-intended about its structure and
formal mission. What matters is my acceptance of Jesus as Lord and my fidelity
to his word in the Scriptures as I sincerely judge it to be. Jesus my — and our
— Saviour is what matters, and if need be “the Church” may fall by the wayside.
Such is the common assumption of many Christians, but an open-minded perusal of
the Gospel shows that this does not represent the full Christian message, but a
mere part of it.
In our Gospel today our Lord turns to his disciples and asks what men say of
him. Various answers were given and we can easily imagine the various answers
that would have to be given were the same question be put by Christ to his
disciples today. But then our Lord asks his own disciples what they think of
him. As we read, “But what about you? he asked. Who do you say I am? Simon Peter
answered, You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” We may say that the
reply of Simon Peter to Christ’s question is the very same as that given in the
succinct and effective Christian leaflets that I mentioned earlier. Jesus Christ
is the Messiah who saves — and specifically, he saves the world from its sin. He
is the Christ, and he is the Son of the Living God. This is the essential belief
of any Christian. Were a person to call himself a Christian who does not believe
that Jesus is the promised Messiah who has taken away the sin of the world, and
that he is the Son of the Living God, then that person would be using the word
“Christian” falsely. But this is not all there is to the Christian message, for
our Lord does not rest content with praising Simon Peter highly for his answer
and assuring him that his faith has come from God. He does not merely say,
“Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by man,
but by my Father in heaven.” No, for he immediately goes on to reveal what is
also a necessary part of his redemptive plan, and what will be the divinely
appointed channel for bringing the blessings of the Kingdom of God to men. He
tells Simon in the presence of the Apostles that “you are Peter, and on this
rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it. I will
give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be
bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven”
(Matthew 16: 13-19). The Church is Christ’s own deliberate creation. It is
founded on Simon who has a title, the Rock. Simon will hold the keys to the
Kingdom of heaven, and the authority to bind and loose, and his decisions will
be ratified in heaven. So, the Church founded on Simon matters.
The Church is Christ’s creation, as is the Chair of Simon Peter. Just as the
Church Christ founded continues through history as his body, so does the Chair
of St Peter continue through history. That Chair holds the keys, and with these
keys are the doors to the Kingdom unlocked for men. That Chair, occupied by the
successors of St Peter, has authority from heaven to bind and to loose, and its
decisions carry divine sanctions. Christ will be with that Chair till the end
when he comes, and the gates of Hell will never prevail against it. Let us love
and revere this Chair, this office that bears witness to the teaching and person
of Christ. By means of it we live in the truth.
Ask the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, and your Mother, to make you know
yourself and weep for all those foul things that have passed through you, and
which, alas, have left such dregs behind... — And at the same time, without
wishing to stop considering all that, say to him: Jesus, give me a Love that
will act like a purifying fire in which my miserable flesh, my miserable heart,
my miserable soul, my miserable body may be consumed and cleansed of all earthly
wretchedness. And when I have been completely emptied of myself, fill me with
yourself. May I never become attached to anything here below. May Love always
sustain me.
(The Forge, no.41)
She who was chosen to be the Mother of God was also chosen to be gratia plena,
full of grace. This you see is an explanation of those high doctrines which are
received among Catholics concerning the purity and sinlessness of the Blessed
Virgin.
JHN, from the sermon ‘Our Lady in the Gospel’ (1848)
(February 23) St. Polycarp (d. 156)
Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna (modern Izmir, Turkey), disciple
of St. John the Apostle and friend of St. Ignatius of Antioch was a revered
Christian leader during the first half of the second century. St. Ignatius, on
his way to Rome to be martyred, visited Polycarp at Smyrna, and later at Troas
wrote him a personal letter. The Asia Minor Churches recognized Polycarp’s
leadership by choosing him as a representative to discuss with Pope Anicetus the
date of the Easter celebration in Rome—a major controversy in the early Church.
Only one of the many letters written by Polycarp has been preserved, the one he
wrote to the Church of Philippi in Macedonia.
At 86, Polycarp was led into the crowded Smyrna stadium to be
burned alive. The flames did not harm him and he was finally killed by a dagger.
The centurion ordered the saint’s body burned. The “Acts” of Polycarp’s
martyrdom are the earliest preserved, fully reliable account of a Christian
martyr’s death. He died in 156. (AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today: Isaiah 55:10-11; Psalm 34:4-7,
16-19; Matthew 6:7-15
Jesus
said to his disciples, When you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for
they think they will be
heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows
what you need before you ask him. This, then, is how you should pray: 'Our
Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done on
earth as it is in heaven. Give us today our daily bread. Forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but
deliver us from the evil one.' For if you forgive men when they sin against you,
your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their
sins, your Father will not forgive your sins. (Matthew
6:7-15)
The Lord’s Prayer Inasmuch as our passage today contains
our Lord’s answer to his disciples’ request that he teach them how to pray,
there is no substitute for it as the principal prayer of the Christian. It was
occasioned by the disciples seeing our Lord himself at prayer, so it obviously
reflects our Lord’s own prayer, and draws the disciple into it. The first thing
that our Lord teaches about the prayer of the one who
looks to him as the Teacher, is that it is simple and direct. It is very
different from the prayer of “the pagans,” who “think they will be heard because
of their many words.” That is to say, the further we are from a knowledge of the
true God, the more cumbersome and indirect will our prayer be. God seems far off
and so it seems difficult to make oneself heard by him. It is a common
experience that people who are not especially close to each other are
instinctively concerned if the conversation falls silent. Things seem awkward if
this happens. Words must be kept up, whereas between those who are close — say
between a mother and her son, or between loving spouses — words can be few, but
the two are close. They wish to be with one another, they walk together, and
little is said. Words are simple and direct. Our Lord reveals that God is our
Father, our dear Father — Abba! — and we must speak to him as such. We must
speak to him in a way very similar to the way of Jesus, and this immediately
manifests a difference from other religions. The Koran never refers to God as
our Father, whereas Jesus Christ is continually doing this, and he teaches his
disciples to do the same — with this difference, that he addresses God as “my
Father,” while teaching us to address him as “our Father.” On one occasion the
Jews picked up stones to stone our Lord because he referred to God as his own
father, thus making himself equal to God. So it is that we are to pray filled
with an awareness of our filial relationship with God our heavenly Father. We
speak to him simply, with words that are few but heartfelt and to the point. The
words our Lord provides us with are sacred, iconic, and in every way a model for
all prayer.
There is a further point. It is that the
Lord’s Prayer, given to us in our passage today
(Matthew 6: 7-15), must be considered as an implicit summary of our
Lord’s teaching and therefore of the Gospel itself. The Prayer came from the
heart of our Lord, and so it must express his teaching. This teaching,
therefore, ought be used to interpret the Prayer itself. For instance, when we
ask God our Father that he give us our daily bread, what “bread” would our Lord
have had most in mind? He would have meant the “bread” that provides our daily
physical sustenance, but most of all the heavenly Bread which gives life to the
world and by means of which we live forever. That is the Bread which has come
down from heaven, as he teaches in the Gospel of St John. That Bread is himself,
and more specifically, his flesh, given for the life of the world. Our “daily
bread,” is above all the Eucharist. As Tertullian writes, the Lord’s Prayer is
the “summary of the whole Gospel,” and we ought strive to understand it, and
invest it with, the content of the Gospel. It ought also express our daily
fidelity to the Gospel, asking the grace to live according to the Gospel. In
this respect, there is a most notable element in the teaching of Jesus Christ
which is particularly hard to accept and understand by those who do not give
their allegiance to him. I refer to the teaching of Jesus about forgiveness. We
are to forgive unceasingly — not seven times but seventy times seven (Matt 18:
21-22) — and it is to be from the heart. “So my heavenly Father will deal with
you unless you each forgive your brother from the heart,” our Lord warns at the
end of his parable (Matt 18: 35). So it is that at the end of telling his
disciples what to pray for and how to pray it (i.e., with simplicity), our Lord
emphasises especially the promise to forgive that the Prayer includes. “Forgive
us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.” He immediately adds his
warning: “For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father
will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father
will not forgive your sins” (Matt 6: 7-15).
Let us love the Lord’s Prayer.
Paradoxically, there is a certain danger in knowing it well (as we should) and
in having a great familiarity with it (as we should). The danger is expressed in
the old saying that “familiarity breeds contempt” — which is simply to say that
we can become casual about the Lord’s Prayer. St Thomas Aquinas referred to it
as “the perfect prayer” and the Church’s liturgical tradition has always used
its text — in fact, the text of Matthew in our passage today, rather than the
briefer one provided by Luke. Let us cherish this prayer and endow it with the
meaning of the entire Gospel, learning to pray it more and more perfectly till
the very last, when we leave this life with it on our lips.
(E.J.Tyler)
A reflection on the second reading: Success(Isaiah 55:10-11)
Success:
Success is man’s ideal
in life. We all hope that our lives will be successful. In some cultures,
failure is almost unbearable. But notions vary as to what success consists of. A
man may "succeed" in his career, but in the process "fail" in some other way
such as in family life. So what is success and what is the way to it? Hundreds
of years before the coming of our Lord, through the prophet Isaiah God spoke of
the “success” of his word: "As
the rain and the snow come down from the heavens and do not return without
watering the earth, making it yield and giving growth to provide seed for the
sower and bread for the eating, so the word that goes from my mouth does not
return to me empty, without carrying out my will and succeeding in what it was
sent to do" (Isaiah 55: 10-11).
Whatever may be
the apparent success of some things in human life and the failure of others, the
success that
God wants to see is the fulfilment of his word. True success occurs when his
word achieves what it was sent to do. The Word of God came among us in person — in the person of Jesus Christ, and he succeeded in what he was sent to do. He
was sent to save the world, and he did so by his obedience unto death, which
involved apparent "failure." What then will success in life consist of? It will
consist in uniting ourselves with the Person who is God's Word, Jesus Christ,
the one who was successful beyond imagining. Our success in life will come from
following in his footsteps, in hearing the word of God as he did and putting it
into practice, whatever be the cost.
So let us indeed aim at success, but let us have a clear and correct idea of
what God our Father has revealed to be true success and the way to attain it.
(E.J.Tyler)
"Desire
nothing for yourself, either good or bad. For yourself, want only what God
wants. Whatever it may be, if it comes from his hand, from God, however bad it
may appear in the eyes of men, with God's help it will appear good, yes very
good, to you. And with an ever-increasing conviction you will say — I have
rejoiced in tribulation.. how marvelous is our chalice. It inebriates my whole
being."
(The Forge no.42)
(February 24) Blessed Luke Belludi (1200-c. 1285)
In 1220, St. Anthony was preaching conversion to the inhabitants of Padua when a
young nobleman, Luke Belludi, came up to him and humbly asked to receive the
habit of the followers of St. Francis. Anthony liked the talented, well-educated
Luke and personally recommended him to St. Francis, who then received him into
the Franciscan Order. Luke, then only 20, was to be Anthony's companion in his
travels and in his preaching, tending to him in his last days and taking
Anthony's place upon his death. He was appointed guardian of the Friars Minor in
the city of Padua. In 1239 the city fell into the hands of its enemies. Nobles
were put to death, the mayor and council were banished, the great university of
Padua gradually closed and the church dedicated to St. Anthony was left
unfinished. Luke himself was expelled from the city but secretly returned. At
night he and the new guardian would visit the tomb of St. Anthony in the
unfinished shrine to pray for his help. One night a voice came from the tomb
assuring them that the city would soon be delivered from its evil tyrant. After
the fulfillment of the prophetic message, Luke was elected provincial minister
and furthered the completion of the great basilica in honor of Anthony, his
teacher. He founded many convents of the order and had, as Anthony, the gift of
miracles. Upon his death he was laid to rest in the basilica that he had helped
finish and has had a continual veneration up to the present time.
(AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today: Jonah 3:1-10; Psalm 51:3-4, 12-13, 18-19; Luke 11:29-32
As the crowds increased, Jesus said, This is a wicked generation. It asks for a
miraculous sign, but none will be given it except the sign of Jonah. For as
Jonah was a sign to the Ninevites, so also will the Son of Man be to this
generation. The Queen of the South will rise at the judgment with the men of
this generation and condemn them; for she came from the ends of the earth to
listen to Solomon's wisdom, and now one greater than Solomon is here. The men of
Nineveh will stand up at the judgment with this generation and condemn it; for
they repented at the preaching of Jonah, and now one greater than Jonah is here.
(Luke 11:29-32)
The heart of manIn our Gospel passage today our Lord makes a sombre
observation. “This is a wicked generation,” he said. “It asks for a miraculous
sign.” The context of this is provided earlier in the chapter, and it follows
our Lord’s teaching to his disciples on prayer (Luke 11: 1-13). We read that “he
had just cast out a devil which was dumb,” and there is a somewhat mixed
response among the crowds. While “the multitudes were filled with amazement,”
nevertheless “some of them said, It is through Beelzebub, the prince of devils,
that he casts the devils out, while others, to put him to the test, would have
him show a sign from heaven” (Luke 11: 14-16). So within this general amazement,
there was a significant element who refused faith in our Lord, some attributing
to him demonic association, others requiring of him further signs — this time
from heaven. Our Lord could “read their thoughts” (11:17), and he proceeded to
deal with these reactions, firstly with the question of the devils, and secondly
with the request for heavenly signs. Our passage today (Luke 11: 29-32) is
Christ’s comment on those who demanded more evidence than he chose to give.
Inasmuch as our Lord speaks of “this generation” asking for “a sign” this would
seem to have been a general tendency. That is to say, the tendency among the
multitudes was to require more signs from heaven from our Lord, and we remember
that as our Lord’s public ministry extended in time he withdrew more and more
from working multitudes of miracles. We read that he increasingly required of
those he healed that they not broadcast the fact, and he withdrew to places of
retreat but despite this his miracles were noised abroad. It seems the miracles
were not leading to faith, but simply to the demand for more miracles — signs
from heaven. A supreme instance of this was Herod himself, who was delighted to
meet our Lord at his Passion because he wanted to see a miracle worked. Our
Lord’s response to this clamour for miracles was devastating: it was due to
wickedness. He refused even to speak to Herod.
So as the multitude increased around him he told them that the demand for
“signs” was due to moral fault. It was due to a wicked heart that refused faith
when faith was clearly due. Our Lord pointed to examples from Scripture of faith
in pagans, gentiles, who responded in faith to God’s gifts present in his
representatives, who were far inferior to him. “The Queen of the South will rise
at the judgment with the men of this generation and condemn them; for she came
from the ends of the earth to listen to Solomon's wisdom, and now one greater
than Solomon is here. The men of Nineveh will stand up at the judgment with this
generation and condemn it; for they repented at the preaching of Jonah, and now
one greater than Jonah is here” (Luke 11: 29-32). The Queen of the South was a
gentile, a pagan, but she responded to the God-given wisdom of Solomon, and came
from “the ends of the earth” to learn from it. She did not ask for further signs
from heaven. The “men of Nineveh” were notoriously pagans, gentiles, but at the
mere preaching of Jonah they repented in sackcloth and ashes and their great
city was spared. They did not demand further signs from heaven, but recognized
that the message of Jonah came from God. All of this was due to their good
hearts. Their heart was such that they — the Queen of the south and the men of
Nineveh — immediately received with faith the word of the one to whom they were
listening. A good heart is enough to discern the heavenly origin of the teaching
of Jesus Christ, for in him a greater than Solomon and Jonah is present. All
this is to say that, as our Lord expresses it in one of his parables, the seed
must fall in good soil if it is to produce the harvest of which it is capable.
If the heart is wicked, signs from heaven will be of no use. In another of our
Lord’s parables, Abraham says of the brothers of the rich man buried in Hell,
that even if someone should rise from the dead, it would make no difference to
them, because of the state of their hearts.
God is all-powerful. He can do anything, and he does do marvellous things even
if they are often unseen. As our Lord says elsewhere, all things are possible
for God. But God’s saving plan depends on our willingness to accept him and his
will. It depends on the state of our hearts. We must be properly disposed for
his word. Let us place our faith in Christ the Redeemer of man, entrusting our
minds and hearts to the care of his grace, asking that he mould us in his
likeness. Let us not place conditions on God, but accept his will knowing that
in his will lies our salvation.
(E.J.Tyler)
We should offer the Lord the sacrifice of Abel. A sacrifice of young unblemished
flesh, the best of the flock; of healthy and holy flesh; a sacrifice of hearts
that have one love alone — you, my God. A sacrifice of minds, which have been
shaped through deep study and will surrender to your Wisdom; of childlike souls
who will think only of pleasing you.
—Lord, receive even now this sweet and fragrant sacrifice.
(The Forge, no.43)
If we look through Europe, we shall find, on the whole, that just those nations
and countries have lost their faith in the divinity of Christ, who have given up
devotion to His Mother, and that those on the other hand, who had been foremost
in her honour, have retained their orthodoxy.
JHN, from A Letter Addressed to the Rev. E. B. Pusey (1865)
(February 25) Blessed Sebastian of Aparicio (1502-1600)
Sebastian’s roads and bridges connected many distant places. His final
bridge-building was to help men and women recognize their God-given dignity and
destiny. Sebastian’s parents were Spanish peasants. At the age of 31 he sailed
to Mexico, where he began working in the fields. Eventually he built roads to
facilitate agricultural trading and other commerce. His 466-mile road from
Mexico City to Zacatecas took 10 years to build and required careful
negotiations with the indigenous peoples along the way. In time Sebastian was a
wealthy farmer and rancher. At the age of 60 he entered a virginal marriage. His
wife’s motivation may have been a large inheritance; his was to provide a
respectable life for a girl without even a modest marriage dowry. When his first
wife died, he entered another virginal marriage for the same reason; his second
wife also died young. At the age of 72 Sebastian distributed his goods among the
poor and entered the Franciscans as a brother. Assigned to the large
(100-member) friary at Puebla de los Angeles south of Mexico City, Sebastian
went out collecting alms for the friars for the next 25 years. His charity to
all earned him the nickname "Angel of Mexico." Sebastian was beatified in 1787
and is known as a patron of travellers.
(AmericanCatholic.org)
Jesus
said, Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will
be opened to you.
For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the
door will be opened. Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a
stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you
are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your
Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him! So in everything, do to
others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the
Prophets. (Matthew 7:7-12)
Pray for it! There are some fundamental problems in religion, problems that can
undermine religious faith if they are not resolved adequately. One such problem
is the thought that religion is unnecessary, that it makes little difference to
life, and life can get on just as well — and perhaps more efficiently — without
it. There are the same problems confronting both the religious person and the
person without religion, and all too often it seems that the person without
religion deals with life more realistically. He makes greater headway. He
competes with greater vigour, and grasps the nettle with greater resolution. He
makes more money, he advances in his career more quickly, he has fewer concerns
to perplex him, and he notices that the religious person seems to rely
fruitlessly on prayer while he himself gets to his destination. All this may be
a caricature of the weak-headed religious person as against the hard-headed man
of the world, and we need not delay here to correct commonly held images. The
point I am introducing is the suspicion by the pragmatic achiever that religion
is in the last analysis unnecessary and, if anything, a dead weight. Its most
characteristic activity is prayer, and what is the use of prayer in the pressing
business of life? An earthquake hits Haiti and an entire city is engulfed
in ruin and tragedy. The world mobilizes and the business of rebuilding begins.
The important thing is action — and what has religion to do with this? Religion
is peripheral to the business of life as exemplified in a tragedy such as this,
and prayer is even more peripheral. What difference will prayer make to the
situation? Nothing! — so it is deemed. A drought extends its claws across a vast
swathe of land and for years the country suffers. Yes, communities go through
the motion of prayers for rain, but what is the use of that? Ah! The rain comes.
But that is a fluke — it would have come anyway. Prayer keeps up the spirits of
people, but it makes little difference to the course of the world. For the canny
and properly modern man and woman, prayer is just a private, soft-headed
indulgence.
Now, of course, in the lives of particular individuals prayer can be all this,
but on the other hand it is surprising to see the number of competent achievers
who live lives of daily prayer by personal conviction. But setting aside such
facts of the case, the principal motive for a strong life of prayer, and in
particular the prayer of petition, is the word of Jesus Christ. Whatever we may
tend to think, he, through whom all things were made, urges us to pray for what
we need. It looks as if God depends to an extent on man’s prayers for his needs.
That is to say, so insistent on the importance of prayer is our Lord, that it
seems as if in the plan of God our prayers are an integral component of its
fulfilment. How little do we understand of the foundations of visible reality! A
tiny shift in a rock can lead to a massive landslide with appalling tragedies in
its wake. Consider what might the prayers of a mother every day for the material
and spiritual welfare of her family have done to prevent that possible tiny
shift, which never happened. Again, an unseen Angel prompts a thought in a
driver to slow at a certain point. A careering car driven by an intoxicated
young man with several young passengers swerves precisely where the car would
have been had it not suddenly slowed. The driver of the slowed car has had the
habit of a daily prayer to his Guardian Angel that he will guard and guide him.
What does our Lord say about prayer? He wants us to pray for what we need, and
to pray with confidence in the love and power of God. All things are in the
hands of God, and who are we, after the word of Christ, to disregard the power
of prayer? “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and
the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks
finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened” (Matthew 7: 7-12). What
could be plainer than this, and who could be so foolish as to disregard it? But
disregard it we commonly do. We do not deny what our Lord promises here, but we
tend to disregard it, and quietly to get on with life without it. We commonly
think religion is a little bit useless, and especially its most distinctive
activity — the prayer of petition.
Let us resolve to pray and pray for what we need — doing so in the presence of
God. If in the presence of God we do not think we should be praying unceasingly
for something, then that may be a sign that we do not think it is in accord with
his will. But if in the presence of God we think it would be good to pray for
something, or even that we should be praying for it, then let us pray for it
constantly, and never lose heart at apparent delays. But of course, we pray
knowing that God knows best. In his wisdom he may choose to answer our prayer in
a different way from that requested. But if this is so, then it will have been
the best possible answer to our prayer.
(E.J.Tyler)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We have to learn how to give ourselves, to burn before God like the lamp placed
on a lampstand to give light to those who walk in darkness; like the sanctuary
lamps that burn by the altar, giving off light till they are consumed.
(The Forge, no.44)
Christ … was not to reign really, till He left the world. He has reigned ever
since; nay, reigned in the world, though He is not in sensible presence in
it—the invisible King of a visible kingdom—for He came on earth but to show what
His reign would be, after He had left it, and to submit to suffering and
dishonour, that He might reign.
JHN, from the sermon ‘The Season of Epiphany’ (1841)
(February 26) St. Porphyry of Gaza (353-421)
We go far back in history today to learn a bit about a saint whose name is not
familiar to most of us in the West but who is celebrated by the Greek and other
Eastern churches. Born near Greece in the mid-fourth century, Porphyry is most
known for his generosity to the poor and for his ascetic lifestyle. Deserts and
caves were his home for a time. At age 40, living in Jerusalem, Porphyry was
ordained a priest. If the accounts we have are correct, he was elected bishop of
Gaza — without his knowledge and against his will. He was, in effect, kidnapped
(with the help of a neighbouring bishop, by the way) and forcibly consecrated
bishop by the members of the small Christian community there. No sooner had
Porphyry been consecrated bishop then he was accused by the local pagans of
causing a drought. When rains came shortly afterward, the pagans gave credit to
Porphyry and the Christian population and tensions subsided for a time. For the
next 13 years, Porphyry worked tirelessly for his people, instructed them and
made many converts, though pagan opposition continued throughout his life. He
died in the year 421. (AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today: Ezechiel 18:21-28; Psalm
130:1-8; Matthew 5:20-26
Jesus said, I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the
Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom
of heaven. You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, 'Do not
murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.' But I tell you that
anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone
who says to his brother, 'Raca,' is answerable to the Sanhedrin. But anyone who
says, 'You fool!' will be in danger of the fire of hell. Therefore, if you are
offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has
something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and
be reconciled to your brother; then come and offer your gift. Settle matters
quickly with your adversary who is taking you to court. Do it while you are
still with him on the way, or he may hand you over to the judge, and the judge
may hand you over to the officer, and you may be thrown into prison. I tell you
the truth, you will not get out until you have paid the last penny.
(Matthew 5:20-26)
The workThe discovery of
tools is usually a standard indicator of the one-time presence of human beings
at archaeological digs. But in recent decades there have been many who have
argued that various animals use tools — especially those animals which are close
to man in their DNA. For instance, in their DNA, apes and men have some 97.5 %
in common. There are scientists who claim that various species of ape in effect
use tools. Therefore, they think, there is but a difference of degree (in
animality) between man and the ape, rather than a radical difference in kind.
Setting aside the question of what it is to use something as a tool, I mention
this merely to introduce yet another feature common to animals and man: they
engage in activity that serves their needs. The lion sets out in the morning and
the whole day is engaged in gaining its food. Very many human beings are
simultaneously engaged in the same project. Do they both, then, engage in “work”
— the “work” of gaining sustenance? Just as with the use of tools, do they both
really “work”? Instinctively, we say that the animal does not do a “work,”
whereas man does indeed “work.” What is it, then, to “work,” which makes of it
an activity distinctive to man? This is not the moment to explore this
philosophically, but one feature of “work” could be mentioned immediately which
would seem to make of it a human activity. The animal does not have the capacity
to choose between its activities, nor does it choose the degree of energy it
invests in the activity. Both are governed by instinct. The lion on the hunt
must hunt, unless its instinct leads it to desist. It is a captive of its
instincts, and so it is not responsible for its actions. Moreover, its degree of
effort in the hunt is entirely dependent on factors governing it, such as
instinct, immediate strength, and so forth. What the lion does is the work of
its instincts and circumstances. Man, though, may freely choose among
his works which is to his liking or best interest, and he is free to devote
maximum strength to the work, or little at all. We may say that choice of
work and choice of effort applied to his work is distinctive of man. It is he
who does the work, not his “instincts.”
What has this to do with what our Lord tells us in the Gospel today? Ah! Much
indeed. Our Lord begins with this warning: “I tell you that unless your
righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you
will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven.” Christ is saying that we must
aim high in the matter of righteousness. Our righteousness must surpass that of
the Pharisees and the teachers of the law. He is telling us that every man and
woman has a great “work” to do in life and he must deliberately choose to do
that work. Man cannot just drift along. He cannot be governed by self-interest,
by “instinct” as it were, or by any other circumstance which, broadly, may
govern other living things. He must choose among works in life and the one work
that is absolutely necessary is “righteousness” — the holiness of Jesus Christ.
He must work at being good. This is the supreme work and it is a work of choice.
Included in this choice is a further choice — the degree of effort to be put
into it. There are those who make the supreme work of choice their careers,
their health, their popularity, and include the work of righteousness as
something largely incidental. This means that they also choose to put little
real effort into it. Christ says that the righteousness which we must choose has
to be of a high order, one that surpasses “that of the Pharisees and the
teachers of the law.” Most especially it means cultivating with energy and
persistence a true religion of the heart, with the heart of Christ being the
model. It means working at love and forgiveness. “You have heard that it was
said to the people long ago, 'Do not murder, and anyone who murders will be
subject to judgment.' But I tell you that anyone who is angry with his brother
will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to his brother, 'Raca,' is
answerable to the Sanhedrin. But anyone who says, 'You fool!' will be in danger
of the fire of hell. Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and
there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift
there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to your brother; then
come and offer your gift” (Matthew 5:20-26).
Every man and woman born into this world has a magnificent project ahead. The
project is personal holiness, a project that must be deliberately chosen and
then sought with all one’s powers. The attainment of goodness is the supreme
work of personal freedom, and its most singular manifestation. It will never
come as a result of mere instinct, and it will never come unless the choice is
made to give to the work one’s very best. Indeed, it is commanded by God that we
make this choice and carry it through. We must love the Lord with all our heart,
mind, soul and strength, and our neighbour as ourself. The grace has been won — let us to it, then!
The Lord, the teacher of Love, is a jealous lover who asks for all we possess,
for all our love. He expects us to offer him whatever we have, and to follow the
path he has marked out for each one of us.
(The Forge, no.45)
As the essence of all religion is authority and obedience, so the distinction
between natural religion and revealed lies in this, that the one
has a
subjective authority, and the other an objective. Revelation consists in the
manifestation of the Invisible Divine Power, or in the substitution of the voice
of a Lawgiver for the voice of conscience. The supremacy of conscience is the
essence of natural religion; the supremacy of Apostle, or Pope, or Church, or
Bishop, is the essence of revealed; and when such external authority is taken
away, the mind falls back again of necessity upon that inward guide which it
possessed even before Revelation was vouchsafed.
JHN, from An Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine (1845)
(February 27) St. Gabriel of Our Lady of Sorrows (1838-1862 ) Born in Italy into a large family and baptized Francis, he lost his mother when
he was only four years old. He was educated by the Jesuits and, having been
cured twice of serious illnesses, came to believe that God was calling him to
the religious life. Young Francis wished to join the Jesuits but was turned
down, probably because of his age, not yet 17. Following the death of a sister
to cholera, his resolve to enter religious life became even stronger and he was
accepted by the Passionists. Upon entering the novitiate he was given the name
Gabriel of Our Lady of Sorrows. Ever popular and cheerful, Gabriel quickly was
successful in his effort to be faithful in little things. His spirit of prayer,
love for the poor, consideration of the feelings of others, exact observance of
the Passionist Rule as well as his bodily penances—always subject to the will of
his wise superiors— made a deep impression on everyone. His superiors had great
expectations of Gabriel as he prepared for the priesthood, but after only four
years of religious life symptoms of tuberculosis appeared. Ever obedient, he
patiently bore the painful effects of the disease and the restrictions it
required, seeking no special notice. He died peacefully on February 27, 1862, at
age 24, having been an example to both young and old. Gabriel of Our Lady of
Sorrows was canonized in 1920. (AmericanCatholic.org)
Click centre arrow
Scripture today: Deuteronomy 26:16-19; Psalm
119:1-2, 4-5, 7-8; Matthew 5:43-48
You have heard that it was said, 'Love your neighbour and hate your enemy.' But
I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may
be sons of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the
good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who
love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that?
And if you greet only your brothers, what are you doing more than others? Do not
even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.
(Matthew 5:43-48)
Love Wonder is an
important act of the mind and there are things in life we ought wonder about.
Plato in his Theaetetus wrote that the origin of philosophy is “wonder”
— in the
sense of 'puzzlement' or 'perplexity' (155c-d). Aristotle too, sees wonder as
the origin of philosophy: “For men were first led to study philosophy, as indeed
they are today, by wonder....they took to philosophy to escape ignorance ...”
(Metaphysics Book 1,2: 982b). Wonder leads us to consider life and the world
more deeply. Consider some of the things one might wonder about, such as the
very existence of things. The world exists, but why is there anything at all? We
exist — but why is that? In January 2010 a massive earthquake convulses Haiti,
and incalculable suffering ensues. There is so much evil and suffering in the
world. Why is life and reality such, as to involve so much evil? Extending the
point, there are students of animal life who are shocked by the scale of
brutality and suffering perpetrated among the species. The relentless pursuit of
a small bird by an eagle and its lethal attack on it seems to belie the notion
that the world comes from and is sustained by a loving Creator. But now, there
is another thing to wonder about. Yes, there is much evil and suffering
everywhere, but despite this there is the wonderful fact of love. There are
amazing fountains of love everywhere. Haiti falls amid the crash of the
earthquake and the world scrambles to help. There is love amid the evil and
suffering. Or again, a profoundly handicapped young man is constantly assisted
with sensitive attention by his widowed father. This care goes on for years, and
is unfailing. Again, an elderly parent is in a nursing home, lost in her mental
dementia. She recognizes no one and says nothing. But every day she is attended
by her loving son. So, let us wonder at the phenomenon of love! I propose that
love is the greatest thing in the world. It is love that must noticed,
treasured, admired, protected, cherished and resolutely helped to flourish. Love
is absolutely indispensable.
As a matter of fact, it has been revealed to us that love is the heart, the
soul, the core and the source of all reality, visible and invisible. Were we
able to plunge to the very depths of all that there is, and rest our hand on the
very first element from which everything else flows, we would touch love. Evil
is not at the heart of things, but love. God, the inspired Scriptures teach us,
is love. There is one Creator of all, and he is love. So much is he love that in
fact, while he is one in being, he is a communion of three divine persons. God
is a loving communion. He is love in his life and in his activity. He creates
out of love and leaves his loving imprint on all that he does. Somehow, large
and numerous weeds appeared in the field — and an enemy had done it. But love is
the start of everything. Love sustains the world, and love will be the final
term of the world. The only final evil will be to have turned one’s back on this
love — and it is within our power to do so. We come from a loving God and if we
live in union with him we shall go to him at the end. There is, then, a
momentous choice facing every person. Shall I choose to love, or shall I choose
not to? Our Lord is very clear about this. We must strive to become perfect in
love, the love that he manifested and which, by the sacrifice of his life, he
made possible for us. He has won for us the grace to grow mightily in love. “Be
perfect” he says in today’s Gospel, “as your heavenly Father is perfect”
(Matthew 5:48). We must strive to imitate God our loving Father, loving even
those who inflict suffering and evil upon us. Evil comes, suffering comes, and
this evil and suffering all too often has its origins in evil human hearts. But
our response must be that of love. Love is the most beautiful fact of the world,
and we must have it flourish. “I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those
who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven. He causes his
sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the
unrighteous” (Matthew 5: 43-48). Love is the
imperative project of every man and woman.
Amid all the din of suffering and evil in the world, and amid the numerous
instances of love that are present amid this evil, there is something most
beautiful that appears aloft amid the haze. It is the Crucified One, hanging
from the nails driven into him by the sin of the world. He hangs there because
of his love, and that love has broken the power of sin. By the grace his
sacrifice won for us we must aim to become like him. This means aiming for the
holiness that is the love of God. God is love and our true life consists in
sharing in God’s life of love. This we do by loving and following Jesus Christ,
Son of God and Redeemer of man.
My God, I see I shall never accept you as my Saviour unless I acknowledge you as
my Model at the same time.
—Since you yourself chose to be poor, make me love holy poverty. I resolve, with
your grace, to live and die in poverty, even though I may have millions at my
disposal.
(The Forge, no.46)
As Christians, we cannot forget how Scripture speaks of the world, and all that
appertains to it. Human Society, indeed, is an ordinance of God, to which He
gives His sanction and His authority; but from the first an enemy has been busy
in its depravation. Hence it is, that while in its substance it is divine, in
its circumstances, tendencies, and results it has much of evil. Never do men
come together in considerable numbers, but the passion, self-will, pride, and
unbelief, which may be more or less dormant in them one by one, bursts into a
flame, and becomes a constituent of their union.
JHN, from the sermon ‘In the World, but not of the World’ (1873)
Prayers for today:
Remember your mercies, Lord, your
tenderness from ages past. Do not let our enemies triumph over us; O God,
deliver Israel from all her distress. (Psalm 24: 6.3.22)
God
our Father, help us to hear your Son. Enlighten us with your word, that we may
find the way to your glory. We ask this through Christ our Lord in the unity of
the Holy Spirit.
(February 28)
Blessed Daniel Brottier (1876-1936)
Daniel spent most of his life in the trenches—one way or another. Born in France
in 1876, Daniel was ordained in 1899 and began a teaching career. That didn’t
satisfy him long. He wanted to use his zeal for the gospel far beyond the
classroom. He joined the missionary Congregation of the Holy Spirit, which sent
him to Senegal, West Africa. After eight years there, his health was suffering.
He was forced to return to France, where he helped raise funds for the
construction of a new cathedral in Senegal. At the outbreak of World War I
Daniel became a volunteer chaplain and spent four years at the front. He did not
shrink from his duties. Indeed, he risked his life time and again in ministering
to the suffering and dying. It was miraculous that he did not suffer a single
wound during his 52 months in the heart of battle. After the war he was invited
to help establish a project for orphaned and abandoned children in a Paris
suburb. He spent the final 13 years of his life there. He died in 1936 and was
beatified by Pope John Paul II in Paris only 48 years later.
(AmericanCatholic.org)
About eight days after Jesus said this,
he took Peter, John and James with him and went up onto a mountain to pray. As
he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became as
bright as a flash of lightning. Two men, Moses and Elijah, appeared in glorious
splendour, talking with Jesus. They spoke about his departure, which he was
about to bring to fulfilment at Jerusalem. Peter and his companions were very
sleepy, but when they became fully awake, they saw his glory and the two men
standing with him. As the men were leaving Jesus, Peter said to him, Master, it
is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters— one for you, one for
Moses and one for Elijah. (He did not know what he was saying.) While he was
speaking, a cloud appeared and enveloped them, and they were afraid as they
entered the cloud. A voice came from the cloud, saying, This is my Son, whom I
have chosen; listen to him. When the voice had spoken, they found that Jesus was
alone. The disciples kept this to themselves, and told no-one at that time what
they had seen. (Luke 9:28-36)
HopePerhaps the most striking thing about
reality is its variety. Everywhere there are differences. Look at a garden, look
at the animals in a zoo, look at any group of persons, look at a family, look at
even a pair of twins. One sees many differences. The differences among the
things that make up visible creation are not only of kind but of degree within
the various kinds. Though all men are of the one kind, who could calculate the
number of differences among individuals within humankind? Particularly notable
are the differences in talent, in capacity. All his life one man does the most
humdrum of things and, though he may be happy, never achieves anything beyond
the ordinary. Another man arises from obscurity and is in sight of becoming,
even if briefly, nearly the master of the world. Where did Napoleon Bonaparte
come from? He was an obscure Corsican from off the coast of Italy and yet by the
age of 35 was Emperor of the French and within five more years was master of
Europe. He fell, but his talent was extraordinary. Eighty years after the birth
of Bonaparte, Adolf Hitler was born in obscurity in Austria. By the age of 44
was head of the German state and on his way to a despicable career of carnage
and blood that brought death and injury to untold numbers all over the world. He
had extraordinary talent. We can think of numerous high achievers in history,
including some who were saints, and others who were filled with evil intent. In
all high achievers there is once common element: hope. They had high hopes. Now,
hope is not exclusive to high achievers who have great talent, for even in those
of very ordinary talent it is essential that there be hope. Hope is a
fundamental human requisite. The ordinary person who in his obscurity lives a
beautiful life, humbly raising his several children, day by day engaged in a
tedious round of humdrum activity such as delivering bread or stacking
provisions, and ending his days having done his best at his uninteresting tasks,
must live in hope. Were he not to have hoped, he would have long since given up
on life. If there is not hope, all is hopeless.
There is, however, a grand undertaking
that is ahead of every man and woman, be he high or low in talent. The
distinguished and the ordinary must make this undertaking his own. What he makes
of it will depend on his calling and his spiritual talent, but make it his own
he must. That undertaking is the work of personal holiness in Christ. It is the
common undertaking of all who are baptized. Now, in this, just as with
everything, hope is a fundamental prerequisite. Each must have a high hope of
attaining this goal if he is ever to attain it. If he has little hope of it, he
will not give it the energy and dedication it requires. This hope is a God-given
virtue, imparted at our baptism, by which we desire the kingdom of heaven that
our Lord announced and established. By means of this supernatural hope we desire
eternal life as our happiness, and the virtues that are necessary for it. The
foundation of this hope, a hope that has to be high indeed, is the trust we
place in Christ’s promises rather than our own strength, together with the grace
of the Holy Spirit. Only the grace of Jesus Christ can take us to holiness, but
we must apply ourselves to the work — and for this application we need to have a
great hope. This hope is the gift of God, as is our faith in Jesus Christ and as
is our love for him. This virtue that is God’s gift responds to the aspiration
to happiness which God has placed in the heart of every man and woman. We
naturally hope for happiness and this natural hope drives our efforts and
decisions during life. The hope that is supernatural and specifically Christian
is the gift of the Holy Spirit. It completes and gives focus to the natural hope
of every human heart. Buoyed up by this hope, we are kept from sin and
selfishness and led to holiness, which is the true happiness of man. Abraham
hoped, and we are his children in the faith. In the beatitudes of Jesus Christ
(in Matthew and Luke) our hopes are raised to heaven, and the grace won for us
by the Passion and Death of Christ sustains our hope. Thus hope becomes the
steadfast anchor of the soul and our weapon in our spiritual struggle.
Our Gospel today
(Luke 9: 28-36) places before us the transfiguration of Christ,
manifesting his glory. It shows forth what we are called to hope for. With the
grace of God for which we ought pray, let us maintain high hopes of attaining
our true end, which is union with Christ in his glory. This we attain by obeying
the will of God in union with Jesus who attained his glory through suffering. We
hope for union with the Bridegroom in the glory of heaven. As St Teresa of Avila
wrote, “Hope, O my soul, hope.” Let us pray for the virtue of hope, and never
let it fade away.
(E.J.Tyler)
Further reading: The Catechism of the Catholic Church,
no.1817-1821 (Hope)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You became very thoughtful when I told you: “The way I see it, everything seems
too little when it is for Our Lord.”
(The Forge, no.47)
Catholicism does not depend on its establishment for its existence, nor does its
tradition live upon its establishment; it can do without establishment, and
often dispenses with it to an advantage. A Catholic nation, as a matter of
course, establishes Catholicism because it is a Catholic nation … the
establishment is the spontaneous act of the people; it is a national movement,
the Catholic people does it, and not the Catholic Church. It is but the accident
of a particular state of things, the result of the fervour of the people; it is
the will of the masses; but, I repeat, it is not necessary for Catholicism.
JHN, from Lectures on the Present Position of Catholics in England (1851)
Morning
Offering: O Jesus, through the most pure heart of Mary, I offer you
all the prayers, works, joys and sufferings of this day for all the
intentions of your divine heart, in union with the holy sacrifice of the
Mass. I offer them especially for the
Holy Father's intentions:
of
the sacraments of Penance and Holy Communion. He combined catechetical training
and fatherly guidance, seeking to unite the spiritual life with one’s work,
study and play. Encouraged during his youth to become a priest so he could work
with young boys, John was ordained in 1841. His service to young people started
when he met a poor orphan and instructed him in preparation for receiving Holy
Communion. He then gathered young apprentices and taught them catechism. After
serving as chaplain in a hospice for working girls, John opened the Oratory of
St. Francis de Sales for boys. Several wealthy and powerful patrons contributed
money, enabling him to provide two workshops for the boys, shoemaking and
tailoring. By 1856, the institution had grown to 150 boys and had added a
printing press for publication of religious and catechetical pamphlets. His
interest in vocational education and publishing justify him as patron of young
apprentices and Catholic publishers. John’s preaching fame spread and by 1850 he
had trained his own helpers because of difficulties in retaining young priests.
In 1854 he and his followers informally banded together under Francis de Sales.
With Pope Pius IX’s encouragement, John gathered 17 men and founded the
Salesians in 1859. Their activity concentrated on education and mission work.
Later, he organized a group of Salesian Sisters to assist girls.
The less amiable specimens of this spurious religion are those which we meet not
unfrequently in my own country. I can use with all my heart the poet’s words,
“England, with all thy faults, I love thee still” [William Cowper]; but to those
faults no Catholic can be blind. We find these men possessed of many virtues,
but proud, bashful, fastidious, and reserved. Why is this? it is because they
think and act as if there were really nothing objective in their religion; it is
because conscience to them is not the word of a lawgiver, as it ought to be, but
the dictate of their own minds and nothing more; it is because they do not look
out of themselves, because they do not look through and beyond their own minds
to their Maker, but are engrossed in notions of what is due to themselves, to
their own dignity and their own consistency. Their conscience has become a mere
self-respect.
revelation
of the Father, and in seeing him we see the Father. He is the only way to the
Father, and he is the Way, the Truth and the Life. But apart from the person of
Jesus himself, there are other differences too. One is the open manifestation in
the Gospels of the demonic world. Where in the Old Testament is to be found the
equivalent of the confrontation between Christ and the demons that we read in
our Gospel today? Satan appears at the beginning in the Book of Genesis (ch.3),
presenting himself as a friend of the woman. He acts as a marketer of pride and
rebellion, and with Eve he makes an immediate sale. He is the Deceiver who
brings sin and death. But in the Old Testament he is barely mentioned. There is
a mention in Zechariah 3:1-2, and again in 1 Chronicles 21:1, but apart from
that the main source is the Book of Job. Satan is allowed by God to bring on
Job’s afflictions and this in order to prove his fidelity to God. Beyond that
book, the Old Testament is largely silent. None of the patriarchs or great
prophets openly confront him and there is no formal contest with what Christ
calls the Prince of this world. But once Christ appears on the scene, the battle
is joined in open fashion. On the threshold of his ministry and while fasting in
the wilderness, Christ is formally approached by Satan. Negotiations are brought
on by the Fiend, but they break down utterly. He can gain no foothold and is
sent packing. He thereupon knows that he has before him One whose like he has
never seen in his long history as the black Spoiler. Wherever he goes, Christ
seems to draw the demons out by his mere presence.
It
is possible to obey, not from love towards God and man, but from a sort of
conscientiousness short of love; from some notion of acting up to a law; that
is, more from the fear of God than from love of Him.
Christ’s birth, and the gala procession in honor
of his Presentation in the Temple 40 days later—February 15. (Under the Mosaic
Law, a woman was ritually “unclean” for 40 days after childbirth, when she was
to present herself to the priests and offer sacrifice—her “purification.”
Contact with anyone who had brushed against mystery—birth or death—excluded a
person from Jewish worship.) This feast emphasizes Jesus’ first appearance in
the Temple more than Mary’s purification. The observance spread throughout the
Western Church in the fifth and sixth centuries. Because the Church in the West
celebrated Jesus’ birth on December 25, the Presentation was moved to February
2, 40 days after Christmas. At the beginning of the eighth century, Pope Sergius
inaugurated a candlelight procession; at the end of the same century the
blessing and distribution of candles which continues to this day became part of
the celebration, giving the feast its popular name: Candlemas.
In Luke’s account, Jesus was welcomed in the temple by two elderly people,
Simeon and the widow Anna. They embody Israel in their patient expectation; they
acknowledge the infant Jesus as the long-awaited Messiah. Early references to
the Roman feast dub it the feast of St. Simeon, the old man who burst into a
song of joy which the Church still sings at day’s end.
37,000 people. Three and a half
centuries before, 26 martyrs of Japan were crucified on a hill, now known as the
Holy Mountain, overlooking Nagasaki. Among them were priests, brothers and
laymen, Franciscans, Jesuits and members of the Secular Franciscan Order; there
were catechists, doctors, simple artisans and servants, old men and innocent
children—all united in a common faith and love for Jesus and his Church. Brother
Paul Miki, a Jesuit and a native of Japan, has become the best known among the
martyrs of Japan. While hanging upon a cross Paul Miki preached to the people
gathered for the execution: “The sentence of judgment says these men came to
Japan from the Philippines, but I did not come from any other country. I am a
true Japanese. The only reason for my being killed is that I have taught the
doctrine of Christ. I certainly did teach the doctrine of Christ. I thank God it
is for this reason I die. I believe that I am telling only the truth before I
die. I know you believe me and I want to say to you all once again: Ask Christ
to help you to become happy. I obey Christ. After Christ’s example I forgive my
persecutors. I do not hate them. I ask God to have pity on all, and I hope my
blood will fall on my fellow men as a fruitful rain.”
the Darfur region of
southern Sudan, Josephine was kidnapped at the age of seven, sold into slavery
and given the name Bakhita, which
means fortunate. She was re-sold several
times, finally in 1883 to Callisto Legnani, Italian consul in Khartoum, Sudan.
Two years later he took Josephine to Italy and gave her to his friend Augusto
Michieli. Bakhita became babysitter to Mimmina Michieli, whom she accompanied to
Venice's Institute of the Catechumens, run by the Canossian Sisters. While
Mimmina was being instructed, Josephine felt drawn to the Catholic Church. She
was baptized and confirmed in 1890, taking the name Josephine. When the
Michielis returned from Africa and wanted to take Mimmina and Josephine back
with them, the future saint refused to go. During the ensuing court case, the
Canossian sisters and the patriarch of Venice intervened on Josephine's behalf.
The judge concluded that since slavery was illegal in Italy, she had actually
been free since 1885. Josephine entered the Institute of St. Magdalene of Canossa in 1893 and made her profession three years later. In 1902, she was
transferred to the city of Schio (northeast of Verona), where she assisted her
religious community through cooking, sewing, embroidery and welcoming visitors
at the door. She soon became well loved by the children attending the sisters'
school and the local citizens. She once said, "Be good, love the Lord, pray for
those who do not know Him. What a great grace it is to know God!" The first
steps toward her beatification began in 1959. She was beatified in 1992 and
canonized eight years later.
On December 8, 1854, Pope Pius IX proclaimed the dogma of the Immaculate
Conception in the apostolic constitution Ineffabilis Deus. A little more than
three years later, on February 11, 1858, a young lady appeared to Bernadette Soubirous. This began a series of visions. During the apparition on March 25,
the lady identified herself with the words: “I am the Immaculate Conception.”
Bernadette was a sickly child of poor parents. Their practice of the Catholic
faith was scarcely more than lukewarm. Bernadette could pray the Our Father, the
Hail Mary and the Creed. She also knew the prayer of the Miraculous Medal: “O
Mary conceived without sin.” During interrogations Bernadette gave an account of
what she saw. It was “something white in the shape of a girl.” She used the word
aquero, a dialect term meaning “this thing.” It was “a pretty young girl with a
rosary over her arm.” Her white robe was encircled by a blue girdle. She wore a
white veil. There was a yellow rose on each foot. A rosary was in her hand.
Bernadette was also impressed by the fact that the lady did not use the informal
form of address (tu), but the polite form (vous). The humble virgin appeared to
a humble girl and treated her with dignity. Through that humble girl, Mary
revitalized and continues to revitalize the faith of millions of people. People
began to flock to Lourdes from other parts of France and from all over the
world. In 1862 Church authorities confirmed the authenticity of the apparitions
and authorized the cult of Our Lady of Lourdes for the diocese. The Feast of Our
Lady of Lourdes became worldwide in 1907. (AmericanCatholic.org)
his
brother Methodius had become a monk after some years in a governmental post. A
decisive change in their lives occurred when the Duke of Moravia (present-day
Czech Republic) asked the Eastern Emperor Michael for political independence
from German rule and ecclesiastical autonomy (having their own clergy and
liturgy). Cyril and Methodius undertook the missionary task. Cyril’s first work
was to invent an alphabet, still used in some Eastern liturgies. His followers
probably formed the Cyrillic alphabet (for example, modern Russian) from Greek
capital letters. Together they translated the Gospels, the psalter, Paul’s
letters and the liturgical books into Slavonic, and composed a Slavonic liturgy,
highly irregular then. That and their free use of the vernacular in preaching
led to opposition from the German clergy. The bishop refused to consecrate
Slavic bishops and priests, and Cyril was forced to appeal to Rome. On the visit
to Rome, he and Methodius had the joy of seeing their new liturgy approved by
Pope Adrian II. Cyril, long an invalid, died in Rome 50 days after taking the
monastic habit.
This
is a special day for the Jesuits, who claim today’s saint as one of their own.
It’s also a special day for people who have a special devotion to the Sacred
Heart of Jesus—a devotion Claude la Colombière promoted, along with his friend
and spiritual companion, St. Margaret Mary Alacoque. The emphasis on God’s love
for all was an antidote to the rigorous moralism of the Jansenists, who were
popular at the time. Claude showed remarkable preaching skills long before his
ordination in 1675. Two months later he was made superior of a small Jesuit
residence in Burgundy. It was there he first encountered Margaret Mary Alacoque.
For many years after he served as her confessor. He was next sent to England to
serve as confessor to the Duchess of York. He preached by both words and by the
example of his holy life, converting a number of Protestants. Tensions arose
against Catholics and Claude, rumored to be part of a plot against the king, was
imprisoned. He was ultimately banished, but by then his health had been ruined.
He died in 1682. Pope John Paul the Second canonized Claude la Colombière in
1992. (AmericanCatholic.org)
solitude
for a life directly given to God? That is what happened in the cultured and
prosperous city of Florence in the middle of the thirteenth century. The city
was torn with political strife as well as the heresy of the Cathari, who
believed that physical reality was inherently evil. Morals were low and religion
seemed meaningless. In 1240 seven noblemen of Florence mutually decided to
withdraw from the city to a solitary place for prayer and direct service of God.
Their initial difficulty was providing for their dependents, since two were
still married and two were widowers. Their aim was to lead a life of penance and
prayer, but they soon found themselves disturbed by constant visitors from
Florence. They next withdrew to the deserted slopes of Monte Senario. In 1244,
under the direction of St. Peter of Verona, O.P., this small group adopted a
religious habit similar to the Dominican habit, choosing to live under the Rule
of St. Augustine and adopting the name of the Servants of Mary. The new Order
took a form more like that of the mendicant friars than that of the older
monastic Orders.
under the watchful eye
of a local painting master. He joined the Dominicans at about age 20, taking the
name Fra Giovanni. He eventually came to be known as Fra Angelico, perhaps a
tribute to his own angelic qualities or maybe the devotional tone of his works.
He continued to study painting and perfect his own techniques, which included
broad-brush strokes, vivid colors and generous, lifelike figures. Michelangelo
once said of Fra Angelico: “One has to believe that this good monk has visited
paradise and been allowed to choose his models there.” Whatever his subject
matter, Fra Angelico sought to generate feelings of religious devotion in
response to his paintings. Among his most famous works are the Annunciation and
Descent from the Cross as well as frescoes in the monastery of San Marco in
Florence. He also served in leadership positions within the Dominican Order. At
one point Pope Eugenius approached him about serving as archbishop of Florence.
Fra Angelico declined, preferring a simpler life. He died in 1455.
(AmericanCatholic.org)
Between May 13 and October 13, 1917, three children, Portuguese shepherds from
Aljustrel, received apparitions of Our Lady at Cova da Iria, near Fatima, a city
110 miles north of Lisbon. At that time, Europe was involved in an extremely
bloody war. Portugal itself was in political turmoil, having overthrown its
monarchy in 1910; the government disbanded religious organizations soon after.
At the first appearance, Mary asked the children to return to that spot on
the
thirteenth of each month for the next six months. She also asked them to learn
to read and write and to pray the rosary “to obtain peace for the world and the
end of the war.” They were to pray for sinners and for the conversion of Russia,
which had recently overthrown Czar Nicholas II and was soon to fall under
communism. Up to 90,000 people gathered for Mary’s final apparition on October
13, 1917. Less than two years later, Francisco died of influenza in his family
home. He was buried in the parish cemetery and then re-buried in the Fatima
basilica in 1952. Jacinta died of influenza in Lisbon, offering her suffering
for the conversion of sinners, peace in the world and the Holy Father. She was
re-buried in the Fatima basilica in 1951. Their cousin, Lucia dos Santos, became
a Carmelite nun and was still living when Jacinta and Francisco were beatified
in 2000. Sister Lucia died five years later. The shrine of Our Lady of Fatima is
visited by up to 20 million people a year. (AmericanCatholic.org)
His brother sent him to good schools and Peter became a professor.
Already in those days Peter was very strict with himself. He wore a hair shirt
under his clothes, fasted rigorously and spent many hours in prayer. Soon, he
decided to leave his teaching and give himself completely to prayer with the
Benedictines of the reform of St. Romuald at Fonte Avellana. They lived two
monks to a hermitage. Peter was so eager to pray and slept so little that he
soon suffered from severe insomnia. He found he had to use some prudence in
taking care of himself. When he was not praying, he studied the Bible. The abbot
commanded that when he died Peter should succeed him. Abbot Peter founded five
other hermitages. He encouraged his brothers in a life of prayer and solitude
and wanted nothing more for himself. The Holy See periodically called on him,
however, to be a peacemaker or troubleshooter, between two abbeys in dispute or
a cleric or government official in some disagreement with Rome. Finally, Pope
Stephen IX made Peter the cardinal-bishop of Ostia. He worked hard to wipe out
simony (the buying of church offices), and encouraged his priests to observe
celibacy and urged even the diocesan clergy to live together and maintain
scheduled prayer and religious observance. He wished to restore primitive
discipline among religious and priests, warning against needless travel,
violations of poverty and too comfortable living. He even wrote to the bishop of
Besancon, complaining that the canons there sat down when they were singing the
psalms in the Divine Office. He wrote many letters. Some 170 are extant. We also
have 53 of his sermons and seven lives, or biographies, that he wrote. He
preferred examples and stories rather than theory in his writings. The
liturgical offices he wrote are evidence of his talent as a stylist in Latin. He
asked often to be allowed to retire as cardinal-bishop of Ostia, and finally
Alexander II consented. Peter was happy to become once again just a monk, but he
was still called to serve as a papal legate. When returning from such an
assignment in Ravenna, he was overcome by a fever. With the monks gathered
around him saying the Divine Office, he died on February 22, 1072. In 1828 he
was declared a Doctor of the Church. (AmericanCatholic.org)
ran to the tomb,
the younger outraced the older, then waited for him. Peter entered, saw the
wrappings on the ground, the headpiece rolled up in a place by itself. John saw
and believed. But he adds a reminder: “..They did not yet understand the
scripture that he had to rise from the dead” (John 20:9). They went home. There
the slowly exploding, impossible idea became reality. Jesus appeared to them as
they waited fearfully behind locked doors. “Peace be with you,” he said (John
20:21b), and they rejoiced. The Pentecost event completed Peter’s experience of
the risen Christ. “...They were all filled with the holy Spirit” (Acts 2:4a) and
began to express themselves in foreign tongues and make bold proclamation as the
Spirit prompted them. Only then can Peter fulfill the task Jesus had given him:
“... Once you have turned back, you must strengthen your brothers” (Luke 22:32).
He at once becomes the spokesman for the Twelve about their experience of the
Holy Spirit—before the civil authorities who wished to quash their preaching,
before the council of Jerusalem, for the community in the problem of Ananias and
Sapphira. He is the first to preach the Good News to the Gentiles. The healing
power of Jesus in him is well attested: the raising of Tabitha from the dead,
the cure of the crippled beggar. People carry the sick into the streets so that
when Peter passed his shadow might fall on them. .jpg)
Born in Italy into a large family and baptized Francis, he lost his mother when
he was only four years old. He was educated by the Jesuits and, having been
cured twice of serious illnesses, came to believe that God was calling him to
the religious life. Young Francis wished to join the Jesuits but was turned
down, probably because of his age, not yet 17. Following the death of a sister
to cholera, his resolve to enter religious life became even stronger and he was
accepted by the Passionists. Upon entering the novitiate he was given the name
Gabriel of Our Lady of Sorrows. Ever popular and cheerful, Gabriel quickly was
successful in his effort to be faithful in little things. His spirit of prayer,
love for the poor, consideration of the feelings of others, exact observance of
the Passionist Rule as well as his bodily penances—always subject to the will of
his wise superiors— made a deep impression on everyone. His superiors had great
expectations of Gabriel as he prepared for the priesthood, but after only four
years of religious life symptoms of tuberculosis appeared. Ever obedient, he
patiently bore the painful effects of the disease and the restrictions it
required, seeking no special notice. He died peacefully on February 27, 1862, at
age 24, having been an example to both young and old. Gabriel of Our Lady of
Sorrows was canonized in 1920. (AmericanCatholic.org)
(February 28)
Blessed Daniel Brottier (1876-1936)