July1 in Year A 11

Friday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time to Friday of the Fifteenth Week in Ordinary Time

Click on any date to go to the Thought for that Day

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 intention for July is: "That Christians may contribute to alleviating the material and spiritual suffering of AIDS patients, especially in the poorest countries."

His mission intention is: "For the religious who work in mission territories, that they may be witnesses of the joy of the Gospel and living signs of the love of Christ."

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Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus A-1 (Friday following the 2nd Sunday after Pentecost)

Entrance Antiphon Ps 33 (32): 11, 19 The designs of his Heart are from age to age, to rescue their souls from death, and to keep them alive in famine.

Collect Grant, we pray, almighty God, that we, who glory in the Heart of your beloved Son and recall the wonders of his love for us, may be made worthy to receive an overflowing measure of grace from that fount of heavenly gifts. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

O God, who in the Heart of your Son, wounded by our sins, bestow on us in mercy the boundless treasures of your love, grant, we pray, that, in paying him the homage of our devotion, we may also offer worthy reparation. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

In 1776, when the American Revolution was beginning in the east, another part of the future United States was being born in California. That year a grey-robed Franciscan founded Mission San Juan Capistrano, now famous for its annually returning swallows. Junipero Serra

San Juan was the seventh of nine missions established under the direction of this indomitable Spaniard. Born in Spain’s island of Mallorca, Serra entered the Franciscan Order, taking the name of St. Francis’ childlike companion, Brother Juniper. Until he was 35, he spent most of his time in the classroom—first as a student of theology and then as a professor. He also became famous for his preaching. Suddenly he gave it all up and followed the yearning that had begun years before when he heard about the missionary work of St. Francis Solanus in South America. Junipero’s desire was to convert native peoples in the New World. Arriving by ship at Vera Cruz, Mexico, he and a companion walked the 250 miles to Mexico City. On the way Junipero’s left leg became infected by an insect bite and would remain a cross—sometimes life-threatening—for the rest of his life. For 18 years he worked in central Mexico and in the Baja Peninsula. He became president of the missions there. Enter politics: the threat of a Russian invasion south from Alaska. Charles III of Spain ordered an expedition to beat Russia to the territory. So the last two conquistadors—one military, one spiritual—began their quest. José de Galvez persuaded Junipero to set out with him for present-day Monterey, California. The first mission founded after the 900-mile journey north was San Diego (1769). That year a shortage of food almost cancelled the expedition. Vowing to stay with the local people, Junipero and another friar began a novena in preparation for St. Joseph’s day, March 19, the scheduled day of departure. On that day, the relief ship arrived. Other missions followed: Monterey/Carmel (1770); San Antonio and San Gabriel (1771); San Luís Obispo (1772); San Francisco and San Juan Capistrano (1776); Santa Clara (1777); San Buenaventura (1782). Twelve more were founded after Serra’s death. Junipero made the long trip to Mexico City to settle great differences with the military commander. He arrived at the point of death. The Ruins Mission

outcome was substantially what Junipero sought: the famous “Regulation” protecting the Indians and the missions. It was the basis for the first significant legislation in California, a “Bill of Rights” for Native Americans. Because the Native Americans were living a nonhuman life from the Spanish point of view, the friars were made their legal guardians. The Native Americans were kept at the mission after Baptism lest they be corrupted in their former haunts—a move that has brought cries of “injustice” from some moderns. Junipero’s missionary life was a long battle with cold and hunger, with unsympathetic military commanders and even with danger of death from non-Christian native peoples. Through it all his unquenchable zeal was fed by prayer each night, often from midnight till dawn. He baptized over 6,000 people and confirmed 5,000. His travels would have circled the globe. He brought the Native Americans not only the gift of faith but also a decent standard of living. He won their love, as witnessed especially by their grief at his death. He is buried at Mission San Carlo Borromeo, Carmel, and was beatified in 1988. (AmericanCatholic.org)

Scripture: Deuteronomy 7:6-11; Psalm 103:1-4, 6-8, 10; 1 John 4:7-16; Matthew 11:25-30

At that time Jesus said, I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure. All things have been committed to me by my Father. No-one knows the Son except the Father, and no-one knows the Father except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him. Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:25-30)

Icons Perhaps the most common topic of discussion among anthropologists, archaeologists and historians of culture are religious artefacts. There are countless objects that have a religious meaning, and among them are depictions of the deities. In fact, it is scarcely possible to imagine Greek, Roman, Egyptian, Mesopotamian and other classical civilizations without their portrayals of the deities. Setting aside the obvious question, which occurred to the educated of classical times, of the very reality of many such “deities,” the problem was that the objects depicting them were so easily regarded as the deities themselves. So it is that the revealed religion of Israel prohibited the portrayal of any so-called “gods,” including the one and only God of Israel, Yahweh. Though a portrayal of Yahweh would be the portrayal of the one true God and not just a projection of the religious imagination, the danger remained that the portrayal itself could come to be worshipped, as if it were Yahweh. We read in the book of Exodus that “when the Lord had finished speaking to Moses on Mount Sinai, he gave him the two tablets of the commandments, the stone tablets inscribed by God’s own finger” (31:18). But with Moses still up on the Mountain, the people gathered around Aaron and asked that he “make us a god who will become our leader” (32:1). The god they intended was their creation — after the manner of the gods of Egypt. Accordingly, they made “a molten calf” with the jewellery of their wives, sons and daughters. Then they cried out “This is your God, O Israel, who brought you out of the land of Egypt” (32:4). They proceeded, with Aaron’s connivance, to offer holocausts and peace offerings to the molten calf (32:6). It was a major apostasy, and led to radical action by Moses when he returned. The point is that the banning of graven images was an abiding feature of the religion of Israel, while the use of images constituted a constant temptation. The grand Temple of Jerusalem, which in the time of our Lord was a wonder of the world, contained no image of the God of Israel. This fact must have been a perplexity to the Gentile peoples.

There were many features of the spiritual revolution which the leaders of the Jews came to see in Jesus Christ. The most serious was his plain assumption of equality with Yahweh God. There had never been anything like this, nothing remotely like it, in the history of the chosen people. “Are you claiming to be greater than our father Abraham, who died, or the prophets, who died?” was the obvious question. “Before Abraham came to be, I AM,” Christ claimed in the presence of the leaders — at which they took up stones with which to stone him (John 8:52-59). A feature of this revolution was that the one God was now visible. In Jesus of Nazareth himself, there was an image of the God of Israel. St Paul writes that Jesus Christ is the image of the unseen God (Colossians 1: 15). While all images of the God of Israel had been long and persistently banned so as to protect the faith of the chosen people, here now before them all was One who claimed to be the authentic Image of God. Indeed, he was God himself depicted before them. God willed to present himself visibly, in his own unique “Image” that was Jesus his Son. What this meant, of course, was that the “Image” of God which Jesus himself was, could be depicted in other images which portray Him. The one true God could now be shown in images because he himself had given to mankind his own Image, which was his only-begotten Son made man. The Word made flesh was the divinely-authenticated Image of God given to mankind, the Image of God which could and should be worshipped by man. Jesus Christ, the Image of the unseen God, is the Object of the Christian religion. This was one of the revolutions of Christ’s new and definitive revelation, built on and fulfilling the revelation granted to the patriarchs and prophets of the Old. God was now visible. God had shown his Face, which could be seen and depicted. That Face was Jesus Christ, and soon it was depicted for we begin to see images of the Good Shepherd in early Christian art. In the seventh Ecumenical Council at Nicaea (787) the Church formally sanctioned the use of religious images, as "open books to remind us of God" who became visible as man.

All of this brings us to the Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. In this fully sanctioned devotion and liturgical celebration, the person of Jesus Christ is loved and adored under the aspect of his fully human and divine love for us. In Jesus Christ God is revealed as having a heart of love. He is not distant, unconcerned, absent, silent. He is full of overflowing and very human love. God is, we might say, to an overflowing and superabundant degree humane. His very love is depicted in the common image of human love, the human heart. The Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ is the human heart of God incarnate. We venerate this image as depicting Jesus Christ, the living Object of our religion, with his foremost feature highlighted: his love. Let us love him, then!

The heart of God It has been observed that devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus is at the centre of the Christian religion. Because of the Incarnation the utterly transcendent God has a heart of flesh, as revealed in the person of his Son. Our Lord in our Gospel passage today tells us that a true knowledge of both the Father and the Son must be revealed to us — and it is revealed to the one who humbly draws near to Christ and learns from him. Our life’s work is to come to know Jesus intimately, and knowing him intimately to make him our model. As our Lord says in today’s Gospel passage, Come to me and learn of me for I am meek and humble of heart. We should strive to learn of this. Making his sentiments our own will bring peace to our souls.

Let us resolve to be devoted to the Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ, which is to say, his love. As St Paul puts it, let this mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus. Let us make this the object of our constant prayer.

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Answer this question in your heart: How often each day does your will ask you to set your heart on God, to give him your expressions of love and your actions? This is a good way to measure the intensity and quality of your love.

The Immaculate Heart of Mary (Saturday following the 2nd Sunday after Pentecost) A-1

The Immaculate Heart of Mary In 1942, Pope Pius XII consecrated the world to the Immaculate Heart of Mary. However, this is not a new devotion. In the seventeenth century, St John Eudes preached it, together with that of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The Church instituted this feast to encourage us to trust always in the intercession of our Blessed Mother as a source of grace and mercy. The all pure heart of Mary beckons us to be pure of heart, keeping it free from attachments so that it may respond easily to do God’s will. She teaches us to love all in the Heart of Jesus.

Entrance Antiphon: Ps 13 (12): 6 My heart will rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, who has been bountiful with me.

Collect: O God, who prepared a fit dwelling place for the Holy Spirit in the Heart of the Blessed Virgin Mary, graciously grant that through her intercession we may be a worthy temple of your glory. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

The name of today's saint is especially familiar to the Irish and the English — and with good reason. The English martyred Oliver Plunkett for defending the faith in his native Ireland during a period of severe persecution. Born in County Meath in 1629, he studied for the priesthood in Rome and was ordained there in 1654. After some years of teaching and service to the poor of Rome he was appointed Archbishop of Armagh in Ireland. Four years later, in 1673, a new wave of anti-Catholic persecution began, forcing Archbishop Plunkett to do his pastoral work in secrecy and disguise and to live in hiding. Meanwhile, many of his priests were sent into exile; schools were closed; Church services had to be held in secret and convents and seminaries were suppressed. As archbishop, he was viewed as ultimately responsible for any rebellion or political activity among his parishioners. Archbishop Plunkett was arrested and imprisoned in Dublin Castle in 1679, but his trial was moved to London. After deliberating for 15 minutes, a jury found him guilty of fomenting revolt. He was hanged, drawn and quartered in July 1681. Pope Paul VI canonized Oliver Plunkett in 1975. (AmericanCatholic.org)

The parents of Jesus went every year to Jerusalem, at the solemn day of the Pasch. And when he was twelve years old, they went up to Jerusalem, according to the custom of the feast. As they were Shroud of Turin

returning at the end of the feast, the child Jesus remained behind in Jerusalem unknown to his parents. Thinking that he was in the company, they travelled a day's journey, and then sought him among their kinsfolk and acquaintances. Not finding him, they returned to Jerusalem, seeking him. And it came to pass that after three days they found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the doctors, listening to them and asking them questions. And all who heard him were astonished at his wisdom and his answers. And seeing him, they marvelled. His mother said to him: Son, why have you done this to us? behold, your father and I have sought you, sorrowing. And he said to them: How is it that you sought me? did you not know that I must be about the things that are my Father's? And they did not understand what he said to them. And he went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was subject to them. And his mother kept all these words in her heart. (Luke 2: 41-51)

Mary The striking feature about the inner life of Jesus of Nazareth as it became manifest to his disciples was his unique relationship with his heavenly Father. By the power of the Holy Spirit his whole Self was utterly united to his heavenly Father. We read in the Gospels of his spending the whole night in prayer to God. After seeing him in prayer on one occasion, his disciples asked him to teach Fr. Ted Tyler

them to pray. He gave them what we call the Lord’s Prayer. It is our prayer to the Father of Jesus Christ, whom he, Christ, teaches us to regard as our heavenly Father. In the Lord’s Prayer we pray with our divine Lord, and under his instruction, to God who is his Father and our Father. On rising from the dead Jesus told Mary Magdalene to go to the brothers and to tell them that he was ascending to “my Father and your Father, to my God and your God” (John 20:17). But while Christ, the Son of God, instructs us to pray to his Father as “our Father,” nevertheless God is the Father of Jesus Christ in a unique sense. The God who is revealed by Jesus is his own Father by very nature. Jesus is God the Father’s divine Son by nature. So exalted was the claimed relationship between Jesus and God his Father that the Jewish authorities picked up stones with which to stone him because, not content with breaking the Sabbath, he spoke of God as his own Father, making himself equal to God. Christ’s enemies knew what he was claiming to be by the very way he spoke and the terms he used, and they were determined on his death as a result. Christ gave his life for the salvation of the world bearing witness to the truth of his divine sonship. The point I am making is that the most significant thing in the life of Jesus of Nazareth was his unparalleled and unique relationship with God his Father. Now, St Luke in his Gospel shows that Christ made this manifest not only in his public ministry and Passion, Death and Resurrection, but in his childhood too. From his boyhood this was the keynote of his inner life. His own parents not only knew it from the words of the Angel, but knew it from the Boy’s own words. St Luke gives us in our Gospel event today one notable instance — the occasion when the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem. “Did you not know that I must be about my Father’s affairs?” he asked. St Luke does not say, incidentally, that this was the first time the boy Jesus mentioned his heavenly “Father” to his parents, nor the first time that he said he was doing the will of his “Father.” Indeed, it seems to me that the scene suggests that it was not the first time at all.

On this particular day, our gaze is directed to the mother of Jesus Christ, and what was going on in her most holy heart. The point that stands out in our Gospel text is her all-consuming love for her divine Son. Son of God and Son of Mary, he was the Object of her life in a way that surpassed all other disciples. Her heart was filled with the thought of him, and for this reason her anguish was so great when her Son went missing. Her husband, Joseph, foster-father of Jesus Christ, was also filled with love for Jesus and likewise gripped with anguish at the absence of his charge. Mary loved Jesus, of course, with all her heart and soul. There was nothing in her life nor in her soul that was unworthy or inconsistent with this most pure love for him. There was no-one on this earth with whom Christ had a greater intimacy than Mary his mother, the next being Joseph, his foster-father. That is to say, when we think of the human heart of Jesus Christ, we ought think of Mary his mother for she had the foremost place in his sacred heart. When we think of Mary, this great figure of the Scriptures, we ought think also of Jesus Christ, for he filled her mind and heart. The two were inseparable at the level of the heart. The sacred heart of Jesus was inseparable from the sinless heart of Mary his mother. The demons called Christ the Holy One of God. Mary is, because she was filled with grace, the immaculate one. Nothing but love for God filled her life, and this love is what was manifested in our Gospel scene today (Luke 2: 41-51), with Mary searching in utter anxiety for three days before finding her Son in the Temple. We can imagine the overwhelming relief at finding him, and the puzzlement of love in wondering why he had acted thus. He gave her a reminder: the will of his Father is the key to understanding all he did. Even if his holy mother could not at times understand the plan of God, this was an early reminder to her that in respect to him, all was done in accord with his will. Her Son belonged to the Father, and the Father would take him where he intended — by the power of the divine Spirit. This was a further step in her path of being, as she had said to the Angel, “the handmaid of the Lord. Be it done to me according to your word.”

Mary the mother of Jesus is the constant model of the Church and of every member of the Church in what it is to be a disciple of Jesus Christ. She is also our mother, by Christ’s gift to the beloved disciple when dying on the Cross. The Church has always seen in that donation a donation involving each of us. Mary is the perfect woman in history, the one given entirely to God. Her human heart was in every respect unsullied by any kind of sin, original, personal, venial or mortal. No sin every touched her from the first instant of her conception. This was the fruit of grace, the gift of God, with which she fully and faithfully co-operated during her life. Holy Mary!

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Be convinced, my child, that God has a right to ask us: Are you thinking about me? Are you aware of me? Do you look at me as your support? Do you seek me as the Light of your life, as your shield..., as your all? Renew, then, this resolution: In times the world calls good, I will cry out: “Lord!” In times it calls bad, again I will cry: “Lord!”

Entrance Antiphon: Cf. Ps 48 (47): 10-11 Your merciful love, O God, we have received in the midst of your temple. Your praise, O God, like your name, reaches the ends of the earth; your right hand is filled with saving justice.

Collect: O God, who in the abasement of your Son have raised up a fallen world, fill your faithful with holy joy, for on those you have rescued from slavery to sin you bestow eternal gladness. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

Poor Thomas! He made one remark and has been branded as “Doubting Thomas” ever since. But if he doubted, he also believed. He made what is certainly the most explicit statement of faith in the New Testament: “My Lord and My God!” (John 20:24-28) and, in so expressing his faith, gave Christians a prayer that will be said till the end of time. He also occasioned a compliment from Jesus to all later Christians: “Have you come to believe because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed” (John 20:29). Thomas should be equally well known for his courage. Perhaps what he said was impetuous—since he ran, like the rest, at the showdown—but he can scarcely have been insincere when he expressed his willingness to die with Jesus. The occasion was when Jesus proposed to go to Bethany after Lazarus had died. Since Bethany was near Jerusalem, this meant walking into the very midst of his enemies and to almost certain death. Realizing this, Thomas said to the other apostles, “Let us also go to die with him” (John 11:16b). (AmericanCatholic.org)

Scripture today: Zechariah 9:9-10; Psalm 144; Romans 8: 9.11-13; Matthew 11: 25-30

Rest for your soul There are those who understand “rest,” “repose” and “happiness” as being something very physical, perhaps exclusively physical. It could be watching a show on television, or having a very enjoyable meal. Another person looks to gaining some position in life and in his work as his best satisfaction and happiness. It could be some outdoor exercise Fr. Ted Tyler

such as a walk through bushland. It could be some form of reading or an evening of conversation and companionship with friends. It could be harmony within the family. It is obvious that the notions of “happiness,” “contentment” and “rest” in life vary enormously among individuals and societies. Furthermore, it is also obvious to most that there are different degrees or qualities of happiness which this or that benefit brings to man. If you win a great lottery and suddenly find yourself a wealthy person, this will probably bring you a certain degree of “happiness” and what we might call “rest for your soul”. But the euphoria of this will pass away — as you will, in your more lucid moments, understand. Such a turn of events could even bring unexpected anxieties. Further, most would know that to have a lot of money at one’s disposal will not bring the happiness of other things — say, an excellent marriage. So, ordinary human experience, common sense and clear- headed reflection will indicate that if one is to be truly happy in life one has to think very carefully about one’s goals, and just as carefully about the means to attain them. One will not be happy simply by indulging in one’s favourite pastime such as watching a favourite television series, going for a walk through bushland, or having an evening with friends. A certain degree of happiness or contentment is attained by these means. While truly noble pursuits such as the fostering of a harmonious family life will bring its joy and happiness, the deepest happiness does not come simply from things such as these. Coincidentally, it will be noticed that all these things, of themselves, are temporal blessings. They are terrestrial goals and benefits. So the question arises in the heart of the reflective person, wherein is the truest and greatest happiness in life to be found? Just as important is the question, how is this to be determined anyway?

The fact is that we can spend the whole of life seeking happiness, and finding a degree of it by trial and error and personal reflection, but ultimately never really getting there. I am sure that there are great numbers of persons in this position. Many never attain deep happiness in life. Indeed, many come to the conclusion that the question cannot be resolved — so they give up on it and settle for whatever life happens to offer. Many others finally put their trust in this or that philosophical authority or great religious leader. Aristotle’s thoughts on happiness could be the final path that is chosen, or the way of Buddha — but have any of these put their finger on the true answer anyway? There is this to be considered too, whether the very question is well put. That is to say, should I be simply “seeking my happiness,” or the path that will bring “rest to my soul”? Who is to say that by consciously seeking my “happiness” as such I will ever be likely to attain it? This is an important question because there is another fundamental consideration that arises in the soul of everyone that is not, on the face of it, the same as his natural quest for happiness. I refer to the natural aspiration and obligation to do what is right. It is part of his fundamental experience that man senses and knows that he should do what is objectively right. He has a conscience commanding him to fulfil the moral law, whether it brings him “happiness” and “rest for his soul” or not. In fact, the dictate of his conscience may seem to upset his “happiness” altogether, and require of him that he forgo all that he thinks will bring him happiness. So what are we to do? What is man to do in the face of these fundamental questions in life, questions that relate to his call to be good, and yet to be happy? There are philosophers who give up on the question and say that life is objectively without meaning. To this conundrum comes the answer from heaven. God has intervened with the sending of his divine Son to enlighten man in respect to the true path of life. Happiness will come from doing what one should do — and this means, in the concrete, coming to Jesus Christ. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matthew 11: 25-30).

There is an answer to the yearnings of man for goodness and happiness, an answer to the imperatives that arise from his heart requiring that he do what is right and that he set wisely on the path that will bring rest to his soul. The answer is in knowing, loving, following and serving the person of Jesus Christ. We must come to him, meet him as a real, living person, fall in love with him, and follow him faithfully and with a full heart in everything. That is God’s answer to man’s need, and it is the purpose for which man was made. Christ promises to give rest to our souls — and the saints show that this is so, just as Christ himself showed that it is so. Go to Jesus Christ, then! Stake all on him! Be prepared to forgo anything that might interfere with where he takes you. Happiness and rest for your soul will be the upshot. Most assuredly so.

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1 don’t want you ever to lose your supernatural outlook. Even though you see your own meannesses, your evil inclinations — the clay of which you are made — in all their raw shamefulness, God is counting on you.

Scripture today: Zechariah 9:9-10; Psalm 144; Romans 8: 9.11-13; Matthew 11: 25-30

Christ our rest Today the Church in Australia invites us to think of indigenous Australians and the call of Christ to accord to them the consideration and dignity that is their due as God’s children, deserving of both justice and charity. Australia has the blessing of being made up of a vast array of ethnic and cultural groupings. My own ancestors came from England, Ireland and Scotland. Some of Fr. Ted Tyler

them came out to Australia 200 years ago, and they came in a very difficult situation. Some came in chains, as it were, because they were convicts. At various stages in Australia’s history people have come from every corner of the world, from Africa, Europe, Eastern Europe, Russia, South America and various parts of Asia such as the Philippines, China and Vietnam. They have come to extricate themselves from great difficulty, and to improve their lives and the lives of their children. But long before any of us or our ancestors came to Australia there were people living here in this continent. They were the Aboriginal people. They have been here for thousands and thousands of years. Australia was their home from time immemorial. But when the British came they were driven out of their ancestral lands, their culture disregarded and dismembered, and they were nearly destroyed. They were left as a wreck. For nearly 200 years this attrition continued, and the Aboriginal people and their descendants have been gradually recuperating from that terrible experience of the arrival of the Europeans. For much of Australia’s history, little thought was given to what was happening to them. But in recent decades the whole country has been realizing that there is much to recognize and repair. Let me read to you what Pope John Paul II said to the Aboriginal people at Alice Springs when he visited Australia in November 1986. These are his words, and they are now famous:

“If you stay closely united, you are like a tree standing in the middle of a bush-fire sweeping through the timber. The leaves are scorched and burned; but inside the tree the sap is still flowing, and under the ground the roots are still strong. Like that tree you have endured the flames, and you still have the power to be reborn. The time for that rebirth is now!”

That papal speech has been celebrated at various times by the Australian Aboriginal population. It was a speech that manifested the concern of our Lord for their plight, and every year in Australia the Church wants Christ’s faithful to consider their situation. Their situation has a special character because of their dignity as this land’s first and longest inhabitants. It is also special in view of their deprivation of their ancestral home, and the generations of attacks on their culture which followed. They have a right to the protection of the best of their culture and to some ongoing recompense for the plight that enveloped them as a result of what seemed, both then and ever since, an unexpected, overwhelming and unjust invasion. They have a right to be helped to rebuild their culture and take their place with all the normal advantages of living in this fortunate country of ours. It is imperative that a Christian have genuine respect for the best of any people’s culture. This is even more so for the Catholic who has the advantage of the Church’s developed teaching on the dignity of culture and how it can become the receptacle and vehicle of divine revelation. When we think of the Australian Aboriginal people, or hear of them referred to, we ought use the occasion to think of them with the mind of Christ and aspire, in union with Christ, to do what Christ would have us do for them. Of course, the greatest thing we can do for any person is to bring to that person the knowledge and love of Jesus Christ. Eternal life is this, our Lord prays in the Last Supper, to know you, Father, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. In our Gospel passage today (Matthew 11: 25-30), we read our Lord’s strikingly beautiful words inviting all those who labour and are overburdened to come to him. He will give them rest. He invites all to shoulder his yoke, to follow him along his way with all that will be involved. If we do, and if we make it our business to learn from him, we will find rest for our souls. Our happiness lies in being Christ’s friends. That applies to each of us and to every person on the face of the earth, including our Aboriginal brothers and sisters who were given this land by God long before any of us. In God’s plan, Christ is their greatest treasure, their greatest rest and their greatest joy.

Let each of us hear the words of Christ in today’s Gospel and take them to heart. Let us resolve to belong to our Lord entirely and to do what we can to bring the message of our Lord’s words today to others. Let us pray that the Aboriginal people will find the rest for their souls that our Lord promises by coming to him and learning from him. Christ is found above all in the Church he founded. Let us resolve to do whatever in the future may enable us to show forth the true face of Jesus Christ to all in our country, including the Aboriginal people of Australia. Christ is the One whom we all need. It is he who brings us life, life in abundance.

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Live as the others around you live, with naturalness, but “supernaturalizing” every moment of your day.

Elizabeth is usually depicted in royal garb with a dove or an olive branch. At her birth in 1271, her father, Pedro III, future king of Aragon, was reconciled with his father, James, the reigning monarch. This proved to be a St Elizabeth of Portugal

portent of things to come. Under the healthful influences surrounding her early years, she quickly learned self-discipline and acquired a taste for spirituality. Thus fortunately prepared, she was able to meet the challenge when, at the age of 12, she was given in marriage to Denis, king of Portugal. She was able to establish for herself a pattern of life conducive to growth in God’s love, not merely through her exercises of piety, including daily Mass, but also through her exercise of charity, by which she was able to befriend and help pilgrims, strangers, the sick, the poor—in a word, all those whose need came to her notice. At the same time she remained devoted to her husband, whose infidelity to her was a scandal to the kingdom. He too was the object of many of her peace endeavours. She long sought peace for him with God, and was finally rewarded when he gave up his life of sin. She repeatedly sought and effected peace between the king and their rebellious son, Alfonso, who thought that he was passed over to favour the king’s illegitimate children. She acted as peacemaker in the struggle between Ferdinand, king of Aragon, and his cousin James, who claimed the crown. And finally from Coimbra, where she had retired as a Franciscan tertiary to the monastery of the Poor Clares after the death of her husband, she set out and was able to bring about a lasting peace between her son Alfonso, now king of Portugal, and his son-in-law, the king of Castile. (AmericanCatholic.org)

While Jesus was saying this, a ruler came and knelt before him and said, My daughter has just died. But come and put your hand on her, and she will live. Jesus got up and went with him, and so did his disciples. Just then a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak. She said to herself, If I only touch his cloak, I will be healed. Jesus turned and saw her. Take heart, daughter, he said, your faith has healed you. And the woman was healed from that moment. When Jesus entered the ruler's house and saw the flute players and the noisy crowd, he said, Go away. The girl is not dead but asleep. But they laughed at him. After the crowd had been put outside, he went in and took the girl by the hand, and she got up. News of this spread through all that region. (Matthew 9: 18-26)

Divine power Our Gospel scene today is reported by each of the Synoptic Gospels — Matthew, Mark and Luke. Matthew covers the event in nine verses. There are considerable differences between Matthew’s account and that given by Mark and Luke. Mark gives to the event twenty-two verses, nearly three times the space of Matthew. Luke gives it seventeen verses, more than twice the length of Matthew. In both Mark and Luke we are given more information than Matthew about the man who approaches Jesus. He is Fr. Ted Tyler

a leader of the synagogue and his name is Jairus. In Matthew’s brief account, all we are told is that the man is “a certain ruler” without the further details about him given by the other two. While in Matthew the “ruler” approaches Jesus about his “daughter”, in Mark (5:22-43) it is from the outset a “little daughter.” In Luke (8:41-56) there are even more details about the daughter. The man tells Jesus that “he had only one daughter, about twelve years of age”. One minor difference is also that in both Mark and Luke, Jairus “falls at the feet” of Jesus — whereas in Matthew the ruler “worshipped him.” There is one notable difference between Matthew and both Mark and Luke, and it is that in Mark and Luke Jairus tells Jesus that his “little daughter lies at the point of death” — and asks that he come and heal her so that she may live. Jesus rises to follow him to his house, and on the way there is the healing of the woman who had an illness of blood-flow. At that point, news arrives of the death of Jairus’s daughter. But in Matthew’s account, the ruler tells Jesus that his daughter “just now died” (arti eteluteesen), and asks that our Lord “come and lay his hand upon her and she shall live.” In Matthew’s account, there is, of course, no news reaching our Lord after the healing of the woman on the way there that the girl has died. All up, it seems that both Mark and Luke had more information about the event than did Matthew. Perhaps Matthew was not an eye-witness himself — it is interesting to notice that in Matthew’s account, his own call (Matthew 9: 9) was not long before this event (Matthew 9: 18-26). Perhaps Matthew was not in tow on this occasion and was recalling what he had heard, whereas both Mark and Luke may be reporting the account of the eye-witnesses — Peter, James, John. We do not know.

What is clear in Matthew’s account is the simple and plain exercise of extraordinary power by Jesus Christ. The emphasis from the outset of the scene is on his divine power to grant life and health. Christ departs from where he was, following the “ruler” and destined to bring back to life his daughter, whom, we read a little later is (without learning her age) a “maid” or “girl.” He arrives to the mourning and dirge of those present in the house of the recently deceased and asks them to go. Their lamentation is not in order, for the girl is “not dead, but asleep.” When the people had been put out — one wonders what they thought of the proceeding — he simply went in, took her by the hand and she arose. The further details provided by Mark and Luke are not given — the presence of Peter, James and John, the presence of both father and mother, the words our Lord used (Talitha koum — as in Mark), and our Lord ordering something to be given to her to eat. In Matthew we have the essentials of Christ’s exercise of divine power, simply exercised without public fanfare. There is a difference at the end, too. While in Mark and Luke Christ tells the parents that they were to tell no-one of it, Matthew informs us that “the report of this went forth through the whole of that region.” In all this, we have mentioned only the story as it touched the daughter of the ruler. On the way to the house there was, of course, the woman healed of her twelve-year infirmity of internal bleeding. Matthew’s account is simple and direct. The woman came behind him, touched the hem of his garment with faith in the power of anything directly associated with the person of Jesus Christ, and she was healed forthwith. Christ turned and when he saw her immediately commended her for her faith, assuring her that it was this that made her whole — and the healing, Matthew tells us, was permanent. So then, apart from the narration of Christ’s great power, we have the description of the faith of those who approached him. The ruler had faith in his complete power, as did the woman and both were rewarded to the full. It is a typical event in the public ministry of our Lord, with the same straightforward lesson for us all.

Let us contemplate the person of Jesus Christ. He is unique in history, our Lord and our God. The fulness of the divinity is found in his person. He is not only man, but the living God, God the Son become man and showing the compassion of God for each of us. God reveals his infinite power in his mercy. Let us place our faith in the divine mercy, then. This is surely the great lesson of today’s Gospel scene, a lesson to be learnt day by day over the years of life. Your faith has made you whole, our Lord said to the woman. Let us take his words to heart.

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“Get out of here; the little girl is not dead, she is asleep.” If there is one thing that dominates human life and culture, it is the fact and the thought of death. Death is the mystery that affects everything, and if man does not succeed in finding meaning in it, all of life will appear to be meaningless because whatever one does in life, one comes to an end at death. It seems, on the face of it, that one comes out of the darkness at birth only to disappear finally into the darkness of death. But let us notice how our Lord refers to death in today’s Gospel. Referring to the little girl amid all the wailing and commotion, our Lord said that she was not dead, but “asleep”. When his friend Lazarus died, our Lord said to his disciples that he was "asleep". Of course, they had both died in the friendship of God — and so their state of death in God’s eyes was no more than "sleep". All this is to say that the true meaning of death is very different from what man imagines it to be apart from divine revelation.

Indeed, the true significance of death is grasped by pondering the death of Christ. It was the supreme moment of his self-surrender to the Father when the Father’s will was totally accepted. With this self-gift came transformation, including the transformation of the world. We are called to live with Christ, and at our death to die with him. Our death will then share in the significance and the value of his death.

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In order to be able to judge with rectitude of intention, we need a pure heart, zeal for the things of God and love of souls, free from prejudices. Think about it.

Collect O God, who in the abasement of your Son have raised up a fallen world, fill your faithful with holy joy, for on those you have rescued from slavery to sin you bestow eternal gladness. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

t the same time that Martin Luther was attacking abuses in the Church, a reformation within the Church was already being attempted. Among the early movers of the Counter-Reformation was Anthony Zaccaria. His mother became a widow at 18 and devoted herself to the spiritual education of her son. He received a medical doctorate at 22 and, while working among the poor of his native Cremona in Italy, was attracted to the religious apostolate. He renounced his rights to any future inheritance, worked as a catechist and was ordained a priest at the age of 26. Called to Milan in a few years, he laid the foundations of three religious congregations, one for men and one for women, plus an association of married couples. Their aim was the reform of the decadent society of their day, beginning with the clergy, religious and lay people. Greatly inspired by St. Paul (his congregation is named the Barnabites, after the companion of that saint), Anthony preached with great vigour in church and street, conducted popular missions and was not ashamed of doing public penance. He encouraged such innovations as the collaboration of the laity in the apostolate, frequent Communion, the Forty Hours devotion and the ringing of church bells at 3:00 p.m. on Fridays. His holiness moved many to reform their lives but, as with all saints, it also moved many to oppose him. Twice his community had to undergo official religious investigation, and twice it was exonerated. While on a mission of peace, he became seriously ill and was brought home for a visit to his mother. He died at Cremona at the age of 36. (AmericanCatholic.org)

While they were going out, a man who was demon-possessed and could not talk was brought to Jesus. And when the demon was driven out, the man who had been mute spoke. The crowd was amazed and said, Nothing like this has ever been seen in Israel. But the Pharisees said, It is by the prince of demons that he drives out demons. Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and sickness. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field. (Matthew 9: 32-38)

The ultimate questions We read that “while they were going out, a man who was demon-possessed and could not talk was brought to Jesus. And when the demon was driven out, the man who had been mute spoke.” Our Lord did not just heal the man of dumbness. A demon was involved. On another occasion our Lord was passing by with a crowd in tow, and a blind beggar began to shout for him. Our Lord asked that he be brought to him and he then asked, “What do you want me to do for you?” Master, the man Fr. Ted Tyler

replied, “that I might see again.” With that, his sight was restored to him — there was no question of a demon being involved. In our scene today, a demon is causing the dumbness, and Christ drives out the demon — and so the man is restored to speech. But notice what the amazed crowd in our Gospel today said of Jesus and of the deed they had just seen him perform.“Nothing like this has ever been seen in Israel,” they marvelled. The people cannot recall anything like what our Lord has been doing. When we think of the sweep of Scripture, indeed, nothing like it had been seen before. There was no disease or illness, not even death itself, and certainly no demon, nor any natural threat such as hunger or storms at sea, which our Lord could not effortlessly master and free man from. Time after time, in place after place, Christ showed himself the victor. His greatest victory was his Passion and Death by which he redeemed the world, though his enemies regarded it as his defeat. This statement of the crowds about Jesus Christ in our Gospel today (Matthew 9: 32-38), that nothing like him had been seen before, can be taken as a broad summing up of Christ’s unique status and significance. Yet despite all this, the response to him was extremely mixed. During his public ministry, there was adulation and euphoria from many in the crowds, and implacable hostility in many of the leaders. Some became his firm disciples, but they were the overwhelming minority. St Paul informs us that after Christ’s Resurrection, five hundred of the brothers witnessed him as risen. But what were five hundred in the nation? Since the time of Jesus Christ, many have become disciples of the risen Jesus, but the great majority have not. Nothing like Jesus Christ has ever been seen — not only in Israel, but in the history of the world. Yet the response to him then, in the past, and now, has been and remains mixed.

What are we to say of this unbelief? To a fair degree it depends on one’s moral dispositions, which is to say on what one basically wants and is ready to accept. For example, if one is not very interested in overcoming sin, then talk of “redemption from sin” will evoke but a mild response, if any at all. While the lack of belief in Jesus Christ can be due to a formal rejection of him and his teaching, I suspect that for most who do not believe it is due to a lack of interest. Indifference to religion, to God and to Jesus Christ is the more common cause of modern irreligion. In turn, this is due to a lack of interest in and even consciousness of the more ultimate questions. We are very busy with our computers. We are busy with getting on in life and getting as near to the top as our peace of mind will allow. We are busy with our hobbies. We want entertainment. There is a constant humming of noise in our life and we are on the move. If we are not, we are pretty bored. What most people are not inclined to do is ask the deeper questions and ask them persistently. I knew one boy years ago who, soon after turning sixteen, resolved to do a little praying. In fact, he resolved to say the Rosary really well, and during that Rosary he found himself thinking about life in the following way. He imagined himself at the age of seventy, asking himself at that age, what have I done with my life? Looking back, with his life nearing its end, he could see very little that was of value in the light of approaching death and the judgment of God. So at the age of sixteen he decided to think of the very last things, the final things he would have to face — death and the judgment of God. I do not think many ask those simple but ultimate questions. In the case of that boy, very quickly he saw that he would have to change the course of his life. In fact, he thereupon decided to change his course, and there and then he chose Jesus Christ for his Master and Friend. He decided that his life, insofar as his own free choice was involved in the matter, would be a truly Christian life, a life of as much love for Christ as was possible for him, granted the grace of God. The boy had many ups and downs ahead of him, but in that goal he persevered. He asked the right questions, and the right answers came.

While religious unbelief has many causes, an important one is sheer indifference. This in turn is very often due to a lack of interest in and consciousness of the ultimate questions. The ultimate questions are not abstruse. They are within the reach of the ordinary person — and indeed eminent philosophers fail to raise them, but get sidetracked into matters that are peripheral compared to the fundamental ones. A great mind can miss the point, and an ordinary mind can be full of the point. The ultimate questions are straightforward and their answers are attainable by both the ordinary and the extraordinary person. We need the moral seriousness to ask them — and in this we can be helped by the thought of what might happen to us if we do not ask them. There are consequences for whatever we do. The ultimate issues must be faced.

“Because you have been strong against God, you shall prevail against men” St Paul describes Abraham as our father in faith. The book of Genesis presents us with our fathers in faith, the patriarchs of the chosen people of God. God introduced himself to Moses in the burning bush as the God of those patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. In Genesis we read the story of Jacob (grandson of Abraham) and we see that a feature of his religious character was his strength. In some sense he was strong with God. There was a struggle, and Jacob prevailed with God: perhaps in his persistence with requests. He prevailed and obtained the blessing of God and went on to “prevail against men”. The example of this forefather in faith and ancestor of Christ reminds us that we too must live lives of fortitude in the face of difficulty. We must struggle. We shall never reach the goal God plans for us of personal sanctity and effective service if we remain weak in the face of difficulties. We must persist in beginning again and again when we fall and when we sin.

By our baptism we are in Christ. This means that we share in Christ’s life and by his grace are able gradually to make his virtues our own, including his fortitude which was the greatest the world has ever known. Time and again in the Gospels he said to those in difficulty: Have courage! Be not afraid! So then, Now I begin!

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I heard some people I knew talking about their radio sets. Almost without realizing it, I brought the subject round to the spiritual area: we have got a strong earth, too strong, and we have forgotten to put up the aerial of the interior life. That is why there are so few souls who keep in touch with God. May we never be without our supernatural aerial.

One of the largest crowds ever assembled for a canonization—250,000—symbolized the reaction of millions touched by the simple story of Maria Goretti. She was the daughter of a poor Italian tenant farmer, had no chance to go to school, never learned to read or write. When Assassin Alessandro

she made her First Communion not long before her death at age 12, she was one of the larger and somewhat backward members of the class. On a hot afternoon in July, Maria was sitting at the top of the stairs of her house, mending a shirt. She was not quite 12 years old, but physically mature. A cart stopped outside, and a neighbour, Alessandro, 18 years old, ran up the stairs. He seized her and pulled her into a bedroom. She struggled and tried to call for help. “No, God does not wish it," she cried out. "It is a sin. You would go to hell for it.” Alessandro began striking at her blindly with a long dagger. She was taken to a hospital. Her last hours were marked by the usual simple compassion of the good—concern about where her mother would sleep, forgiveness of Canonization

her murderer (she had been in fear of him, but did not say anything lest she cause trouble to his family) and her devout welcoming of Viaticum, her last Holy Communion. She died about 24 hours after the attack. Her murderer was sentenced to 30 years in prison. For a long time he was unrepentant and surly. One night he had a dream or vision of Maria, gathering flowers and offering them to him. His life changed. When he was released after 27 years, his first act was to go to beg the forgiveness of Maria’s mother. Devotion to the young martyr grew, miracles were worked, and in less than half a century she was canonized. At her beatification in 1947, her mother (then 82), two sisters and a brother appeared with Pope Pius XII on the balcony of St. Peter’s. Three years later, at her canonization, a 66-year-old Alessandro Serenelli knelt among the quarter-million people and cried tears of joy. "Even if she had not been a martyr, she would still have been a saint, so holy was her everyday life" (Cardinal Salotti). (AmericanCatholic.org)

Jesus called his twelve disciples to him and gave them authority to drive out evil spirits and to heal every disease and sickness. These are the names of the twelve apostles: first, Simon (who is called Peter) and his brother Andrew; James son of Zebedee, and his brother John; Philip and Bartholomew; Thomas and Matthew the tax collector; James son of Alphaeus, and Thaddaeus; Simon the Zealot and Judas Iscariot, who betrayed him. These twelve Jesus sent out with the following instructions: Do not go among the Gentiles or enter any town of the Samaritans. Go rather to the lost sheep of Israel. As you go, preach this message: 'The kingdom of heaven is near.' (Matthew 10: 1-7)

Love for Jesus In the Gospel of St Matthew, soon after the commencement of his public ministry in chapter 4, our Lord calls four of his principal disciples, Peter and Andrew his brother, and James and John his brother. They immediately left their nets and followed him (4: 18-22). Our Lord then went about all of Galilee preaching the Gospel of the Kingdom, and the summary of his teaching is given in the Sermon on the Mount (chapters 5-7). Then there follow various healings, more teaching especially on faith (8:10-12) and discipleship (8:19-26), encounters with demons (8: 28-34), followed by further teachings and miracles (chapter 9). During this narrative we notice various references to his “disciples” who listen to his teaching, as at the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount (5:1), who follow him, or express the desire to do so (8:21), and who accompany him in his work (8:25; 9:10-11; 9:14; 9:19). One special example of the “disciples” is the call of Matthew (9:9). At one point Christ gazes at “the crowds” and says to “his disciples” that they should pray to the Lord of the harvest that he send forth labourers into his harvest (9:37-38). That remark alone shows that “the disciples” will do more than accompany the Master and learn his teaching. They will share in his very work. So it is that in our passage today (Matthew 10: 1-7) our Lord takes a new step. We read that “calling forth the twelve disciples” he gave them certain powers (10:1). These were the Twelve, and they were deputed to act in his name, doing what they had seen him doing — casting out demons, healing all kinds of sickness (10:1), and preaching the news of the kingdom of heaven (10:7). The names of the “twelve apostles” (10:2) are given — five have been introduced already, including Matthew. Doubtless the others were well-known to the infant Church, and in the list there was, as is to be expected, the sad name of Judas Iscariot, “who also betrayed him” (10:4). These twelve disciples, we read, Jesus sent forth to do what he had been doing, and Judas was among them. There is no reason to doubt that Judas showed the same promise as they. Perhaps he even had a certain edge on many of them, for we know he was entrusted with the money.

There must have been many such sorties sent forth by Christ, with Judas being ever a part of it. He would have healed by invoking the name of Jesus. He would have driven out demons by calling on the same name. He would have repeated the message he had heard uttered by the Master. He would have returned, like the others, to tell Jesus in his turn how things had got on, with Jesus gazing into his soul. We also know that things began to change in the heart of Judas — how soon, we cannot know. However, in his Gospel account of the public announcement of the holy Eucharist in the synagogue of Capernaum, St John tells us that many of Christ’s disciples were profoundly disaffected. They turned away from our Lord as a result of what he had said and taught — it was too much, as far as they were concerned, this business of eating his flesh and drinking his blood. It was abundantly clear that Jesus meant what he said. He was not just playing with words, or using them in some symbolic fashion. Now, the interesting thing here is that John tells us that when our Lord turned to the Twelve and received a full profession of faith by Simon Peter, he stated that one of them, one of those he had chosen, was “a devil” — and he was referring to Judas (John 6: 70-71). Judas too, in his heart of hearts, had abandoned our Lord and was hostile to him — only secretly. Something had been failing to this point, and with Christ’s doctrine on the Eucharist, he fell away. Yet — and this also is interesting — he continued to be part of our Lord’s company and presumably continued to participate in the mission, the sorties, the ministry of the Twelve. Christ did not expose him and turn him out. He did not even have a quiet word with him and suggest he go. His friendship and call had been given. It would not be withdrawn. What did Judas do in his mission with the others? After the raising of Lazarus from the dead, when Mary the sister of Martha poured costly ointment over the feet of Jesus, Judas criticised the action (John 12:4-6). One wonders whether privately he had criticised Christ in other contexts too. One wonders with what spirit he spoke of Jesus, and the slant he gave to the message of the Twelve, for his heart was far from him. How could he have spoken of Jesus with faith and love?

Every baptized person is called to a personal friendship with Jesus and to a share in his mission. We are called to be his representatives before others in the situation and calling that is ours. But how can we possibly speak of Jesus with fruit and effect, if our hearts are not with him? It is impossible. The foundation of our calling as Christians is a personal love for Jesus Christ and full faith in his person and teaching. This depends on our life of prayer, our daily conversation with Jesus Christ. This was lacking in Judas as time went on. He began well, and ended so very sadly. The same can happen with us, if we do not take care. Let us take care, then! Let us stay close to Jesus Christ day by day by our daily prayer and our worthy reception of the Sacraments.

"Go to Joseph and do what he tells you." In our first reading from Genesis we are today presented with the figure of the patriarch Joseph, one of the twelve fathers of the tribes of Israel. The providence of God was strikingly manifested in his case, drawing him forth from abject captivity into which he had been plunged by his jealous brothers. God placed him in a central position in the Kingdom of Egypt, and from this position he cared for his people, including his own family. The Pharaoh told the Egyptians, “Go to Joseph.”Apart from the fact that his story as recounted in the biblical text is full of lessons about the designs and loving providence of God, it surely reminds the Christian also of the great yet hidden Joseph who was to come. Within his holy obscurity at Nazareth he was given the task of caring for the Messiah and the Messiah’s mother. Because of this, the Church has declared him not only the protector of the Holy Family but the heavenly protector of God’s family, the universal Church.

Blessed Mary MacKillop used to say, “Go to Joseph”. St Theresa of Avila called him her father and lord, as did St Josemaria Escriva. He will protect us with his intercession which must be very, very powerful. How could God refuse him? Let us then “Go to Joseph.”

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Is it true that I pay more attention to trifles and trivialities, that bring me nothing and from which I expect nothing, than I do to my God? Who am I with, when I am not with God?

Peter was born in Rakunai, New Britain, an island off the northeast coast of Papua New Guinea, in 1912. His parents were Angelo Peter ToRot

To Puia, a village chief, and Maria la Tumul, adult converts who were part of this region's first Catholics. A pious young man, Peter had an intense prayer life and received Communion daily. At the age of 18, he became a a lay catechist and ministered to the people of his own village. He frequently quoted the Bible and carried it everywhere with him. In 1936, at the age of 24, he married Paula la Varpit, who was also Catholic. The couple had three children: Andrea, who died after the war; a little girl, Rufina La Mama, who is still alive; and the third child (name unknown), who was born soon after Peter's death in 1945 and died a short time later. In 1942, the Japanese invaded the island and arrested all the missionaries and their staff, housing them in concentration camps. Peter continued to lead the village as best as he could, caring for the sick, Baptising and teaching the faithful, helping the poor. He assisted other catechists who were confused by the changes brought about by the Japanese. When the war began to go against them, the Japanese began to repress the locals, banning all forms of worship. They had imagined that the people were praying for the defeat of the Japanese. They tried to get the people to return to their pre-Christian ways, legalizing polygamy. Any resistance to the law was a punishable offence. Peter openly opposed the regulations, and was arrested in 1945 for conducting religious gatherings. Imprisoned in a cave, he was so well known, supported and beloved by those who knew him that he was a source of strength to his people, and of annoyance to his captors. On July 7, 1945, Peter was murdered by his captors and died as a martyr for the faith. Pope John Paul ll beatified Peter in Port Moresby, Papua New Guinea, on January 17, 1995 declaring the heroic virtue of the devout catechist. "I am here because of those who broke their marriage vows and because of those who do not want the growth of God's kingdom" (Bl. Peter ToRot, referring to his imprisonment).

Scripture today: Genesis 44: 18-21.23-29; 45: 1-5; Psalm 1-4; Matthew 10: 7-15

esus said to the Twelve, As you go, preach this message: 'The kingdom of heaven is near.' Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those who have leprosy, drive out demons. Freely you have received, freely give. Do not take along any gold or silver or copper in your belts; take no bag for the journey, or extra tunic, or sandals or a staff; for the worker is worth his keep. Whatever town or village you enter, search for some worthy person there and stay at his house until you leave. As you enter the home, give it your greeting. If the home is deserving, let your peace rest on it; if it is not, let your peace return to you. If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, shake the dust off your feet when you leave that home or town. I tell you the truth, it will be more bearable for Sodom and Gomorrah on the day of judgment than for that town. (Matthew 10: 7-15)

The mission Any historian worthy of the name, any anthropologist or archaeologist — anyone delving into the past or into the structures of human culture and society — understands that religion is virtually an invariable feature of the life of man. Societies have their worship, their rituals, their myths. Many societies, especially primal societies, are so steeped in a religious perspective that their culture and entire way of life, social and individual, is pervaded by religion. It is even difficult, in such cases, to define religion because it seems to be so co-terminus with the culture. A great exception is the modern secular society, the special feature of which is that religion is absent from its public face. The secular society carries on officially as if God were but a personal persuasion rather than a public fact. Some modern states (such as Communist states), adopting a foreign philosophy such as Marxism, have publicly denied the reality of God and have driven out those who profess religious belief. This they have done because, they think, belief in God is deleterious of man’s true welfare. It has also to be admitted that some Asian cultures, profoundly influenced by Confucianism, Buddhism and other (what we might call) similar philosophies, have kept a personal Deity out of sight. But these are anomalies. Religion is part of the life of man — and what is religion, as popularly understood? Well of course, it is the worship of the deity or the deities; it is ritual; it is religious myth and narrative; it is prayer — it is all that makes up the acknowledgment of and prayer to the Unseen Power or powers, by man and his community. But there is one feature of revealed religion, the religion of the Judaeo-Christian revelation, which is especially notable. It is its impulse to bring itself to the world. God spoke to Abraham, calling him from Ur in the land of the Chaldees, and taking him to a promised land. We read in the Book of Genesis that within this call there was a promise: “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you .... All the communities of the earth shall find blessing in you” (Genesis 12: 2-3). The blessing of religion was not just to be for the family, tribe, society and nation of Abraham. The religion that was revealed to him as being his religion from now on, had a mission to the world.

This universal mission that was an original and essential feature of the religion of the chosen people was a long time in gestation. It was always understood to be there, but it never seems to have taken flight in any serious sense — until the appearance of the Messiah. John the Baptist pointed him out. He was Jesus, and his mission would be to take away the sin of the world. Once sin was atoned for by his Death and Resurrection, the universal mission would be immediately operative. At that, “religion” — the religion revealed by God in the person of Jesus Christ his divine Son — became more than simple worship and, more than merely good and religious living. It also became missionary. Essential to its life was the mission to bring the knowledge and love of the Person of the Redeemer to the nations. Being “religious” involved bringing Christ to the minds and hearts of mankind. You could not just pray — as something solely between yourself and your Creator — or just worship — though this was essential. You had also to be concerned with bringing Jesus Christ to the world, both by means of your prayer and by means of the situation in life that was yours by vocation and divine Providence. So it is that in our Gospel today (Matthew 10: 7-15) our Lord entrusts his disciples with their mission. It is a share in his own mission. He himself did not enter the world simply to give an example of a “religious life” that acknowledged God his Father and which was lived in personal union with him. He came into this world to save the whole world from sin. In him, religion was essentially missionary. If one wished, then, to be a child of God after the manner of Jesus Christ — and this is the only true way of being “religious” according to the of God — then one had to share in the missionary impulse of the Master. One had to give oneself to the mission of saving mankind from sin and bringing all to God in Christ Jesus. So it is that “Jesus said to the Twelve, As you go, preach this message: 'The kingdom of heaven is near.'” Risen from the dead, he gave his disciples a charge. It was not simply that they keep up the worship of God and remain deeply prayerful. They had a mission to the world that was central to living the religion of Jesus Christ: “Go and make disciples of all the nations” (Matthew 28:19).

If this missionary dimension of life is missing in the Christian, his religion is profoundly incomplete. Of course, just how this missionary element is to be interpreted and lived out in practical terms will vary profoundly among Christ’s faithful. The faithful wife and mother will strive night and day to bring the knowledge and love of Jesus Christ to her family and to those about her in her limited sphere of influence in parish and community. This will be a very different sphere from that of, say, the ordained priest. However, in all of Christ’s faithful, in all who are baptized and are members of Christ’s Church, there must be a living sense of mission which is given very practical expression in daily life. Let us be up and doing, then!

“Do not reproach yourselves ... God sent me before you to preserve your lives” Our Lord ended his life on earth by asking his Father to forgive his persecutors, for, he prayed, they knew not what they were doing. Today in the first reading from Genesis we are presented with the figure of the patriarch Joseph. In this episode, he reveals himself to his brothers. They had sold him into slavery, and here now they were in his power. He could have punished then with justice but instead he forgave them, recognising the hand of God in his own history. Despite their wickedness, God had brought Joseph to his position in order to save them from the famine, to preserve his chosen people for their divine destiny, and to display his power. “Do not reproach yourselves" he said, "God sent me before you to preserve your lives.” Joseph is a type of Christ in this respect. Christ was rejected by his people and his rejection was the means whereby God saved his own people, and all the peoples. The notable point is forgiveness. Joseph forgave, and recognised the loving providence of God in his sufferings and in the injustices he had borne. Through them God had been good to him and to his persecutors.

Let us pray for the faith in God to recognise his hand in our life’s hurts and injuries, and for the love of Christ that will enable us live with him in his spirit of forgiveness for those who hurt us.

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Tell him: Lord, I want nothing other than what you want. Even those things I am asking you for at present, if they take me an inch away from your Will, don’t give them to me.

Entrance Antiphon:Cf. Ps 48 (47): 10-11 Your merciful love, O God, we have received in the midst of your temple. Your praise, O God, like your name, reaches the ends of the earth; your right hand is filled with saving justice.

Not much is known of the early life of Emmanuel Ruiz, but details of his heroic death in defence of the faith have come down to us. Born of humble parents in Santander, Spain, he became a Franciscan priest and served as a missionary in Damascus. This was at a time when anti-Christian riots shook Syria and thousands lost their lives in just a short time. Among these were Emmanuel, superior of the Franciscan convent, seven other friars and three laymen. When a menacing crowd came looking for the men, they refused to renounce their faith and become Muslims. The men were subjected to horrible tortures before their martyrdom. Emmanuel, his brother Franciscans and the three Maronite laymen were beatified in 1926 by Pope Pius XI. (AmericanCatholic.org)

Jesus said Shroud of Turin

to his Apostles, I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves. Be on your guard against men; they will hand you over to the local councils and flog you in their synagogues. On my account you will be brought before governors and kings as witnesses to them and to the Gentiles. But when they arrest you, do not worry about what to say or how to say it. At that time you will be given what to say, for it will not be you speaking, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you. Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child; children will rebel against their parents and have them put to death. All men will hate you because of me, but he who stands firm to the end will be saved. When you are persecuted in one place, flee to another. I tell you the truth, you will not finish going through the cities of Israel before the Son of Man comes. (Matthew 10: 16-23)

Following him There are, of course, instances in the Old Testament, of prophets who had “disciples.” We can expect that over the long course of Old Testament religion, numerous religious leaders had disciples. Isaiah speaks of his disciples: “Bind up the testimony and seal up the law among my disciples” (Isaiah 8:16). Rabbinical Judaism made much of the concept of discipleship. The advice of a pre-Christian writer was: “Take to yourself a teacher and acquire a companion.” Classical Philosophers had their disciples, as did the Jewish Rabbis. R. T. France has written that “Every Jewish teacher worth his salt had his circle of ‘disciples’ who ‘followed’ him (literally walking behind him as he rode or walked ahead), looked after his daily needs, and soaked up his teaching. Their teacher was the most important person in their lives” (I Came to Set the Earth on Fire, 1976, p. 50). There were, though, some notable differences between the idea of discipleship in Christ’s practice, and that of the Greek teacher or Jewish Rabbi. While commonly the disciple chose his master, Christ chose his disciples, and he commanded his disciples to make other disciples, indeed to make disciples of all the nations. Most notably, one chose a master in order to gain knowledge. But in the case of Christ, being his disciple involved not only this, but principally it involved and required an ardent love for and, indeed, worship of, his very person. It was essentially a profoundly personal and definitive relationship of love, unto death. You did not move on to another teacher once you gained the best that Jesus Christ had to offer. There was no other teacher apart from him, and anyhow, it was principally a matter of friendship issuing in obedience. The disciple of Christ was called to follow him to the end, and that end was the Cross in some form. After insisting three times with Simon Peter that he love him more than the others, Christ’s final words to him were, Follow me! (John 21). It would never have occurred to Aristotle to ask this of his students (say, of Alexander, or of the students of his school in Athens), nor Isaiah to ask such a thing of his disciples. But Christ asked his disciples that they sacrifice everything for love of him and for the sake of his revelation. This was unique.

There is a further distinguishing point about Jesus Christ. He not only had “disciples” but “apostles.” Apostolos means one who is sent forth, dispatched — in other words, one who is entrusted with a mission, especially a foreign mission. It has, however, a stronger sense than a mere messenger. It means an envoy, a delegate, an ambassador. In the classical writers the word is not all that frequent. In the Greek version of the Old Testament it occurs but rarely. In the New Testament, however, it occurs frequently, and denotes some disciples who were called to a specific role as legates of the Messiah who had come to establish God’s Kingdom and extend it to all the nations. There was nothing like this in Old Testament religion. Christ’s mission was to establish God’s promised Kingdom on the earth, and he instituted the means of entering it. That means would be his Church built on the Twelve, and specifically on the one he designated as the Rock, Simon Peter. The keys to the Kingdom were entrusted to him. Whatever he bound on earth would be ratified in Heaven. By entering this Church and partaking of its life, one would enter God’s Kingdom — which was nothing other than union with Jesus Christ and living by his divine life. Not only had Christ apostles, but he sent them out with specific expectations and resources. The expectation was that they would suffer persecution, and their great resource would be the Spirit of the Father. He promised that “they will hand you over to the local councils and flog you in their synagogues. On my account you will be brought before governors and kings as witnesses to them and to the Gentiles.” They did not have much to look forward to in terms of reception: “Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child; children will rebel against their parents and have them put to death. All men will hate you because of me”. That is to say, their path would be that of their Master. But they need not worry about how to bear witness in these circumstances: “do not worry about what to say or how to say it. At that time you will be given what to say, for it will not be you speaking, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you” (Matthew 10: 16-23).

The Church makes it clear in her teaching to all of Christ’s faithful that in all of this, each baptized person has a share. In both discipleship, the business of learning from the Master, and in apostleship, the business of making disciples of all others, each baptized person is called by God to participate by vocation. All are called to holiness of life and this, essentially, means following Jesus Christ. We are called to love him with all our heart, for he is God the Son made man and our Redeemer. We are called to accept his teaching in full faith, and we are called to share in his mission of making disciples of all the nations. Let us be up and doing, then!

“Israel said to Joseph, ‘Now I can die, now that I have seen you again'” In the first reading from the Book of Genesis (46:1-7.28-30) there is narrated the happy ending to Jacob’s great sorrow, the loss of Joseph, the child of his love. Jacob was reunited with his long-lost son. As Jacob leaves the land of Canaan for Egypt with his numerous possessions, we have the sense that God had blessed him and was blessing him further for his faithfulness. The inspired author divines in Jacob’s temporal prosperity the hand of God. St Paul teaches this more generally in one of his letters. God brings all things together for the sake of the ones who love Him. With the fulness of divine revelation having come to us in Christ, we know that material prosperity is not the principal way God rewards those who are faithful to him. In Christ we receive every heavenly blessing. He lived poorly, dying in the midst of suffering, and breathing his last with nothing. He is our pattern, while being himself our reward. Our Lord in our Gospel passage today (Matthew 10:16-25) promises his apostles persecutions and difficulties in their share in his mission. But “the man who stands firm to the end will be saved.”

Our forefather Jacob illustrates this in material terms, and our Lord illustrates it perfectly in eternal terms. Let us then ask for the fortitude we need to be faithful, trusting in the faithfulness of God on our behalf.

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The secret of being effective, at root, lies in your piety, a sincere piety. This way you will pass the whole day with him.

(July 9) Saint Augustine Zhao Rong, priest and martyr, and his companions, martyrs (17th-20th centuries)

Christianity arrived in China by way of Syria in the 600s. Depending on China's relations with the outside world, Christianity over the centuries was free to grow or was forced to operate secretly. The 120 martyrs in this group died between 1648 and 1930. Most of them (87) were born in China and were children, parents, catechists or labourers, ranging from nine years of age to 72. This group includes four Chinese diocesan priests. The 33 foreign-born martyrs were mostly priests or women religious, especially from the Order of Preachers, the Paris Foreign Mission Society, the Friars Minor, Jesuits, Salesians and Franciscan Missionaries of Mary. Augustine Zhao Rong was a Chinese solider who accompanied Bishop John Gabriel Taurin Dufresse (Paris Foreign Mission Society) to his martyrdom in Beijing. Augustine was baptized and not long after was ordained as a diocesan priest. He was martyred in 1815. Beatified in groups at various times, these 120 martyrs were canonized in Rome on October 1, 2000. (AmericanCatholic.org)

Jesus said, A Shroud of Turin

student is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master. It is enough for the student to be like his teacher, and the servant like his master. If the head of the house has been called Beelzebub, how much more the members of his household! So do not be afraid of them. There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known. What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight; what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the roofs. Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. Whoever acknowledges me before men, I will also acknowledge him before my Father in heaven. But whoever disowns me before men, I will disown him before my Father in heaven. (Matthew 10: 24-33)

Do not be afraid One of the mysterious miracles of nature is awareness. The insect and animal kingdoms possess no spiritual element in their constitutions, and yet they have awareness as their foremost endowment. This fact shows the potential of matter, for from the insect to the most highly developed non-human animal, all are purely material. Awareness represents a great difference between the mighty, living oak and the tiniest insect, and it places the insect above the great oak. The tiny insect is aware — not of itself, but of other things, while the towering, centuries-old tree is entirely unaware of anything. Yet both the insect and the tree are nothing more than matter. From the insect to the elephant, there is nothing that surpasses the material. Not so with the human being who, in his core Self, is not material. He is a spiritual soul informing a body. But now — and this is the point here — all things that possess some form of awareness are capable of fear. Take an insect — say, a fly. Something makes an approach to it — and the fly is gone. In its rudimentary form of awareness, it fears that approach. A flock of nightingales sing merrily together, and suddenly they all fall silent. The hawk has been seen, and they all fear. A herd of deer is grazing, and suddenly they raise their heads in alert — and they begin their frantic bounding from the scene. Two lionesses are charging them, and one of the deer is doomed. They all fear, and that fear drives their flight. A field of crops lies in sight and in the middle of it there is a scarecrow. Why is it there? It is there to induce fear in the birds and keep them away, for the birds interpret the inert figure as a living man, who is a threat to them. Fear is everywhere. It is universal among all things that are aware. As a matter of fact, it is one of the greatest of blessings for every living thing, for without fear most things would be doomed as being entirely exposed to all kinds of threats. The cub strays out of its lair, unnoticed by its mother. It has not yet learnt to fear — and its short life is over. The sharp-eyed eagle sees, swoops and takes it. By the power of its awareness, with training from its parents or mentors, and with personal experience, living things learn to fear and that fear protects them from threats.

Man, too, is blessed by his ability to fear. How deprived a person would be without the tendency and capacity to fear! He would be doomed. But of course, the question is, what is it that we should fear? Fears can be imaginary. I can fear what people may say about me, when hardly any person is sufficiently interested to say anything about me at all. I can fear drinking coffee because of something I have read, when what I have read is entirely unreliable. I can fear giving money to the poor because I fear exposing myself to personal deprivation — when any observer of my situation would say that deprivation is most unlikely. I can develop a constant fear of having a stroke because strokes are in my family — yet I am taking all medical precautions. My fears are out of control. Fear is a great blessing in life, provided we fear what we should fear. The question then is, what is it that we should fear? Some things constitute reasonable occasions of fear, and other things do not. Further, while fear can assist us in a reasonable manner to avoid authentic threats, fear can also paralyse us against acting rationally. It may be imperative that, for our own sake and for the sake of those who depend on us, we take certain actions. But fear can immobilize our decisions and action. Now, what we fear, and the degree to which we fear, will depend on what we are aware of. The level of our awareness, and what we are capable of being aware of, and our judgments based on that awareness, will determine the nature of our fears, and to a point our power over them. The greatest cause of fear is the awareness of the threat of death — this is above all what makes the animal flee and the human recoil. But if a man knows that “death” is but a door to something unseen and far better, his awareness of this will transform the degree and nature of his fear. He may even come not to fear death at all. The famous Rosary priest of the middle of the twentieth century, Father Patrick Peyton, was once asked later in his life what was his attitude to death. He replied that he was looking forward to death because it was by passing through it that he would come to meet Jesus Christ, the love of his life. He would have told people to be aware of death, but not to fear it. Rather, fear offending God by committing sin.

So it is that in our Gospel today our Lord himself tells us not to fear certain threats — rather we ought fear other things. “Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows” (Matthew 10: 24-33). Let us place our whole trust in Jesus Christ, and govern our lives by his teaching as it comes to us in the witness and teaching of the Church. If we do this we shall fear what we should fear. Let us fear, but according to the mind of Christ.

“The evil you planned to do me has by God’s design been turned to good” The Old Testament is read by the Christian as throwing fuller light on the New, and the New as giving meaning to the reading of the Old. The inspired story of Joseph is an instance of this. Joseph was sold into slavery by his brothers out of jealousy. God’s hand was upon Joseph, and he was led to his high position in Egypt so that God’s salvific purposes for his chosen people might be fulfilled. Jacob and his sons fled Canaan and its famine and were able to find solace in Egypt because of Joseph whose position made this possible. After Jacob’s death, Joseph told his brothers, “Do not be afraid; is it for me to put myself in God’s place? The evil you planned to do me has by God’s design been turned to good, that he might bring about, as indeed he has, the deliverance of a numerous people.” This was a type of what was to come in the life of Jacob’s greatest descendant, the Messiah. Our Lord was the object of unparalleled rejection by his own: he came unto his own and his own did not accept him. But by God’s design this evil was turned to good that he might bring about the deliverance of all his children. Salvation was brought to the human race by this rejection.

Joseph was a type of Christ. Let us appreciate the power and wisdom of God in the folly of the cross and let us ask for the faith to trust in God’s care, whatever be the appearances.

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A resolution: to “keep up”, without interruption as far as you can, a loving and docile friendship and conversation with the Holy Spirit. Veni, Sancte Spiritus...! — Come, O Holy Spirit, and dwell in my soul!

Entrance Antiphon: Cf. Ps 17 (16):15 As for me, in justice I shall behold your face; I shall be filled with the vision of your glory.

Collect: O God, who show the light of your truth to those who go astray, so that they may return to the right path, give all who for the faith they profess are accounted Christians the grace to reject whatever is contrary to the name of Christ and to strive after all that does it honour. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

Veronica’s desire to be like Christ crucified was answered with the stigmata. Veronica was born in Mercatelli. It is said that when her mother Benedetta was dying she called her five daughters to her bedside St Veronica Giuliani

and entrusted each of them to one of the five wounds of Jesus. Veronica was entrusted to the wound below Christ’s heart. At the age of 17, Veronica joined the Poor Clares directed by the Capuchins. Her father had wanted her to marry, but she convinced him to allow her to become a nun. In her first years in the monastery, she worked in the kitchen, infirmary, sacristy and served as portress. At the age of 34, she was made novice mistress, a position she held for 22 years. When she was 37, Veronica received the stigmata. Life was not the same after that. Church authorities in Rome wanted to test Veronica’s authenticity and so conducted an investigation. She lost the office of novice mistress temporarily and was not allowed to attend Mass except on Sundays or holy days. Through all of this Veronica did not become bitter, and the investigation eventually restored her as novice mistress. Though she protested against it, at the age of 56 she was elected abbess, an office she held for 11 years until her death. Veronica was very devoted to the Eucharist and to the Sacred Heart. She offered her sufferings for the missions. Veronica was canonized in 1839. (AmericanCatholic.org)

Scripture today: Isaiah 55: 10-11; Psalm 64; Romans 8: 18-23; Matthew 13: 1-23

That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat by the lake. Such large crowds gathered round him that he got into a boat and sat in it, while all the people stood on the shore. Then he told them many things in parables, saying: A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop — a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown. He who has ears, let him hear. The disciples came to him and asked, Why do you speak to the people in parables? He replied, The knowledge of the secrets of the kingdom of heaven has been given to you, but not to them. Whoever has will be given more, and he will have an abundance. Whoever does not have, even what he has will be taken from him. This is why I speak to them in parables: Though seeing, they do not see; though hearing, they do not hear or understand. In them is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah: 'You will be ever hearing but never understanding; you will be ever seeing but never perceiving. For this people's heart has become calloused; they hardly hear with their ears, and they have closed their eyes. Otherwise they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts and turn, and I would heal them.' But blessed are your eyes because they see, and your ears because they hear. For I tell you the truth, many prophets and righteous men longed to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it. Listen then to what the parable of the sower means: When anyone hears the message about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in his heart. This is the seed sown along the path. The one who received the seed that fell on rocky places is the man who hears the word and at once receives it with joy. But since he has no root, he lasts only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, he quickly falls away. The one who received the seed that fell among the thorns is the man who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke it, making it unfruitful. But the one who received the seed that fell on good soil is the man who hears the word and understands it. He produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown. (Matthew 13: 1-23)

The Sower Our culture is one that expects identifiable outcomes and achievements. We are expected to be achievers and to prove ourselves. If something goes wrong, we are blamed. Initiative, self-motivation and self-reliance in attaining goals, are expected. This tendency of our technical, pragmatic and goal-oriented culture can gradually form the impression that what life will bring depends on ourselves — which is correct to a point, of course. But ordinary observation makes it obvious that life does not depend simply on ourselves, for numerous other factors in the universe play their inexorable part. Nevertheless this assumption can take root in our imagination, and can affect our image of the Christian life. Of course, as in every other department of life progress in Christ depends, to a point, on our own efforts. If we make no effort to pray, if we do not “work” on prayer, we shall get nowhere. The fulness of the Christian life requires our incessant cooperation. But we can slip into thinking that everything in the Christian life depends on ourselves — and thus we become Pelagians, without realizing it. Individuals have their “plan of life” and churches their “pastoral plan,” and “success” can be (unconsciously) imagined as mainly dependent on the quality of personal effort. Now, in all of this, we must understand what our Gospel parable of today stresses, that everything we do is in fact dependent on what God is doing. The classic Protestant warning against “works” — which in the Catholic understanding was pressed so far as to become erroneous — has an abiding relevance. Our Gospel today gives us a vivid appreciation of the harvest of holiness that is possible for us. But it is not just a matter of our achieving plans that we set ourselves, but of God achieving the plans which from all eternity he has set himself — which of course depend on our cooperation too. God has his dreams, and he implants them in our hearts. They, the plans of God for us, are far greater than anything we could deem possible. God sets the plans, and he is the one who achieves them. But he has chosen to depend on our free and generous cooperation. The cooperation that we give, itself the fruit of his grace, enables us to merit what is achieved. With that merit of ours will come our eternal reward — and all the while it is ultimately all God’s doing.

In today’s Gospel parable (Matthew 13:1-23), we imagine a sower going out to sow his seed. Some of the seed produces nothing because of the ground on which it fell. But the seed that fell on good soil “produced their crop, some a hundred fold, some sixty, some thirty.” This successful crop was entirely dependent on the sower casting his seed on the ground. That work of the sower and his seed is the work of grace. The soil did not do it, for without the sower and the seed, nothing would have been forthcoming. All through Scripture, it is God who takes the initiative. His are the plans, and his is the call that comes to this or that person to take up his plans and cooperate with them wholeheartedly. Abraham would never have quit his homeland and embarked on the adventure he did, had he not received the call to do so from God, together with the divine promise. Abraham accepted the call, and God promised to be with him, working in and through him to achieve the plan. That is the pattern throughout salvation history, from Abraham our father in faith to Christ our Redeemer, and from him to the end of time in the life and mission of the Church. It is the pattern in the Christian life of each of us. I remember when I was young, a priest explained that holiness is 99% the work of grace, which is the action of God in our souls. Nevertheless, in the parable, the good soil had to be there. Our active cooperation is absolutely essential. God gives us the dignity of asking and requiring that we be generous and persevering collaborators. That is the other 1% of the work of our sanctification, and it requires everything we have. The poor widow put in two small coins, and it was everything she had. In this sense, our Lord’s parable also shows that nothing can be done if we do not cooperate with God. That is why our “works” are necessary. If they are lacking, we will be like that stony ground, or that edge of the path, or those thorns, which prevented the seed from bearing fruit. We must be like the good soil, receiving the grace of God and his word with active understanding and appreciation, together with the resolve to live consistently in accord with it.

It is in this sense that what we become depends on our efforts. But all our efforts depend on God. Our efforts are made possible only by God who attracts us to him and to his plan for us in the first place. He sustains us in our efforts to achieve what he plans for us. If God’s entire plan for us is to be achieved we have to put in our full and daily effort. Our full and persevering co-operation is the 1% of the work. The rest, the 99%, is God’s part — but even that 1% is possible only with his aid. Let us then give it our best effort, knowing that if we do this, God will do the rest.

Further Reading: Catechism of the Catholic Church no.1987-2011 (Justification, grace, merit)

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Repeat to yourself, with all your heart, and with ever-increasing love, and more when you are in front of the tabernacle or have the Lord within your breast: Non est qui se abscondat a calore eius — “No one can hide from his warmth.” May I not flee from you, may I be filled with the fire of your Holy Spirit.

Entrance Antiphon: Cf. Ps 17 (16):15 As for me, in justice I shall behold your face; I shall be filled with the vision of your glory.

It is unfortunate that no contemporary biography was written of a man who has exercised the greatest influence on monasticism in the West. Benedict is well recognized in the later Dialogues of St. Gregory, but these are sketches to illustrate miraculous elements of his career. Benedict was born of a St Benegict of Nursia

distinguished family in central Italy, studied at Rome and early in life was drawn to the monastic life. At first he became a hermit, leaving a depressing world—pagan armies on the march, the Church torn by schism, people suffering from war, morality at a low ebb. He soon realized that he could not live a hidden life in a small town any better than in a large city, so he withdrew to a cave high in the mountains for three years. Some monks chose him as their leader for a while, but found his strictness not to their taste. Still, the shift from hermit to community life had begun for him. He had an idea of gathering various families of monks into one “Grand Monastery” to give them the benefit of unity, fraternity, permanent worship in one house. Finally he began to build what was to become one of the most famous monasteries in the world—Monte Cassino, commanding three narrow valleys running toward the mountains north of Naples. The Rule that gradually developed prescribed a life of liturgical prayer, study, manual labour and living together in community under a common father (abbot). Benedictine asceticism is known for its moderation, and Benedictine charity has always shown concern for the people in the surrounding countryside. In the course of the Middle Ages, all monasticism in the West was gradually brought under the Rule of St. Benedict. Today the Benedictine family is represented by two branches: the Benedictine Federation and the Cistercians. (AmericanCatholic.org)

Jesus said, Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to turn a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law—a man's enemies will be the members of his own household.' Anyone who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and anyone who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. He who receives you receives me, and he who receives me receives the one who sent me. Anyone who receives a prophet because he is a prophet will receive a prophet's reward, and anyone who receives a righteous man because he is a righteous man will receive a righteous man's reward. And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones because he is my disciple, I tell you the truth, he will certainly not lose his reward. After Jesus had finished instructing his twelve disciples, he went on from there to teach and preach in the towns of Galilee. (Matthew 10:34-11:1)

Loving Christ There are currents of Christian thought and practice which place great emphasis on the study of the inspired writings of St Paul. The reflections on the Christian life which issue from such traditions and communities are replete with that great Apostle’s teachings — as they are conceived to be — and often there is little reference to other books of the Scriptures. I suspect that this is because such persons tend to think that by comparison with the Letters of St Paul, the teaching on the Christian life that is contained in the rest of the New Testament, including the Gospels, pales in comparison. Luther was full of St Paul, but he seemed to give short shrift to St James. Again, there have been writers and preachers from certain Christian traditions who make great use of the writings of the Old Testament. Now all this is good because we are talking here of Holy Scripture. But what I have often noticed is that frequently there is in them a corresponding lack of stress on the Gospels. I also often notice that they do not much connect the Old Testament passages they are using with the New Testament, and in particular with the Gospels. Specifically, they do not much relate what they use to the person of Jesus Christ — who for the Christian is the summit and the key to all the Scriptures. This raises an important question. For the Christian, is there any grade of importance among the various Books of Holy Scripture, understood as embracing both Old and New Testament, or are all of equal importance, being all inspired? Well of course, there is a grade or order of importance. The Christian who knows that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God and Redeemer of mankind, also knows that the Gospels, for instance, are of greater importance than, say, the Old Testament Book of Numbers or Leviticus. This is because the Gospels present the person of Jesus Christ himself. The Books of Numbers and Leviticus, while having a connection with the promised Messiah, cannot compare with the Gospels in the presentation of him. In fact, we can indeed identify the most important Books of the Bible. They are the four Gospels, for they present the Redeemer himself.

There is this further consideration in respect to the pre-eminence of the four Gospels. It is of course fundamental that we progress towards a deeper understanding of the teaching of Jesus Christ so as to be able to live by it — and the various Books of the New Testament, and in a different sense those of the Old Testament too, help us know this teaching. But it is especially important that we come to know, love and wish to follow the very Person of Jesus Christ. Needless to say, we cannot separate the teaching of Jesus Christ from his Person — and the Letters of Paul help us know his teaching. If you love me, Christ said, you will keep my commands. Notwithstanding this, it is essential to the Christian life that we come to know and love Jesus, and not simply, as it were, his teaching. We strive to know his teaching because we love him. It is conceivable for a person to approve highly of the teaching of Jesus and to follow much of the Christian “system” because of its inherent merits, while not having a correspondingly high interest in a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, risen and alive in his body the Church. If this is what a person’s Christianity amounts to, there is a real question as to whether he is yet a Christian. A Christian is one who loves, worships, follows and serves a particular Person, the Person of Jesus Christ. It is this which is first and foremost, and one’s desire to know Christian teaching and to live by it is the fruit of a personal love for Jesus Christ, who is recognized as being God himself. Christ wants more than the observance of his commands — though this is absolutely essential. He wants us to love him, for himself. The mission and way of life of the Christian is based on this love. Simon, he asked Peter three times after having risen from the dead, Do you love me? Then feed my sheep. Love for him comes first. So it is that in our Gospel today our Lord insists on being supreme in our hearts. “Anyone who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and anyone who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 10:34-11:1).

This is why the Gospels are the most important books of the Bible. They present the Person of Jesus Christ for our contemplation and our love. By immersing ourselves prayerfully in the Gospels day by day and contemplating his very Person, we come to know and love him as the Object of our life. His teaching is constantly perceived as coming from his lips, and is accepted and followed for love of him. I wonder if Luther gave more time to St Paul’s Letters than to the four Gospels. The Christian lives in Christ by grace, and he lives in him by conscious thought and love — and the Gospels are the principal nourishment in the Scriptures for this. Every day, in the presence of Jesus Christ, let us read a little of the Gospels so as to know and love him better.

“Accordingly they put slave-drivers over the Israelites to wear them down” One of the intriguing features of the progress of God’s work as we notice it in the pages of Scripture is that often it occurs precisely in unfavourable and discouraging circumstances. We notice this immediately in the first reading of today from the book of Exodus: “But the more they were crushed, the more they increased and spread, and men came to dread the sons of Israel.” Even from what we might call a purely natural point of view, this suggests one very important lesson if our goals in life are to have any lasting value. If there is a God — and of course there is — a God who in his providence is active in the world, then we ought do what he, our God, wants to see done. As Scripture says, unless the Lord builds the house, they labour in vain who build. That which lasts in a truly ultimate sense must be what God is wanting, doing and supporting. The fullest manifestation of this is in the life, passion and death of Christ. All was left in ruins, and from those ruins came the salvation of the world and the Church that would bring this salvation to all the peoples. God’s power is at its best in obedient weakness, as was revealed to St Paul.

Let us get behind what God is wanting, doing and supporting, and make it our own. In the business of doing God’s will daily, let us never be discouraged to the point of losing faith. Faith in God’s presence and power must be the foundation of our entire religious life. Faith in God and obedience to his will is what will build the house. Apart from this basis, all is in vain.

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Ure igne Sancti Spiritus! — Burn me with the fire of your Spirit, you cried. You then added: “My poor soul needs to fly again as soon as possible, and not stop flying until it rests in God!” I think your desires are admirable. I will pray for you often to the Paraclete. I will invoke him continually, so that he may nestle in the centre of your being, presiding and giving a supernatural tone to all your actions and words, thoughts and desires.

Entrance Antiphon: Cf. Ps 17 (16):15 As for me, in justice I shall behold your face; I shall be filled with the vision of your glory.

These two friars were martyred in England in the 16th and 17th centuries for refusing to deny their faith. John Jones was Welsh. He was ordained a diocesan priest and was twice imprisoned for administering the sacraments before leaving England in 1590. He joined the Franciscans at the age of 60 and returned to England three years later while Queen Elizabeth I was at the height of her power. John ministered to Catholics in the English countryside until his imprisonment in 1596. He was condemned to be hanged, drawn and quartered. John was executed on July 12, 1598. John Wall was born in England but was educated at the English College of Douai, Belgium. Ordained in Rome in 1648, he entered the Franciscans in Douai several years later. In 1656 he returned to work secretly in England. In 1678 Titus Oates worked many English people into a frenzy over an alleged papal plot to murder the king and restore Catholicism in that country. In that year Catholics were legally excluded from Parliament, a law which was not repealed until 1829. John Wall was arrested and imprisoned in 1678 and was executed the following year. John Jones and John Wall were canonized in 1970. (AmericanCatholic.org)

Then Jesus began to denounce the cities in which most of his miracles had been performed, because they did not repent. Woe to you, Korazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! If the miracles that were performed in you had been performed in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes. But I tell you, it will be more bearable for Tyre and Sidon on the day of judgment than for you. And you, Capernaum, will you be lifted up to the skies? No, you will go down to the depths. If the miracles that were performed in you had been performed in Sodom, it would have remained to this day. But I tell you that it will be more bearable for Sodom on the day of judgment than for you. (Matthew 11:20-24)

Miracles of Jesus There are several features of the modern era that are distinctive to it. One is its scientific and technological character. Science and its technological applications are the pride of modern times. That something is manifestly vindicated by science is deemed to be one of its best credentials. This has been an outstanding gain for the world, but there has been a negative feature in this, jockeying for prominence. It is that very many have assumed that the only criterion of the truth of something is its scientific and empirical validation. Thus has the supernatural been gradually relegated to the dustbin of the unreal. It has no “scientific” proof. It cannot be empirically tested. Another notable feature of the culture of the modern era is its widespread atheism, or at least its agnosticism in respect to theistic beliefs. There is no God, or at least it is impossible to be certain of his existence. I suspect that there is in modern man, the man of the modern Western culture and those cultures affected by Western secularism, a profound scepticism and doubt about the supernatural and in particular about God. The doubt is not necessarily active, strident, nor promoted. It can even be granted that there is a higher Power, but whether this Power transcends the world, or whether It is personal, whether It is kind or disinterested or threatening, all these questions are left unanswered while the real business of life is taken in hand. The real business of life is, of course, the material business of life — doing well in this world. The question then arises, what would prove the existence of God, or his character as claimed by the great religious traditions such as that of Christianity, and in particular the fact of an historical revelation by him in the person of Jesus Christ? There are a number of “proofs” in philosophical and religious thought, but let the question be directed to the sceptic — tell me, what would you regard as a true proof of the fact of God and of the divinity of Jesus Christ his Son and Representative? I tend to think that in his heart of hearts the modern doubter would require that he actually see something. The proof that would convince him is not a purely rational argument but observable facts.

This, I suggest, is one reason why the age-old stress on and recourse to miracles is of relevance. They happened. They were seen. They were observable facts, or claimed to be such. Now, while on the one hand there are many who show a great interest in “miraculous” phenomena, the more general tendency is opposed to this. Typically, there is a powerful, unspoken and even scarcely conscious assumption that “miracles” are so utterly unlikely that reports of them lack all credible foundation. A miracle is of the category — the assumption goes — of tricks, of imaginative fancies, of religious inventions, of popular undisciplined fables, and a host of other utterly impossible phenomena as to render it useless in terms of persuasion. Is the magician’s trick a “miracle”? What of reports of ghosts and flying saucers? So-called “miracles” are of that order. So the miracles of the Gospels are discounted because they run against what is deemed to be at all likely. This is to say that there is much to do to overcome the modern disinterest in miracles and the assumptions underlying and powering this disinterest. The work of, for instance, Bishop Tom Wright, one-time Anglican bishop of Durham, on the physical resurrection of Jesus is very relevant (The Resurrection of the Son of God, Augsburg Fortress, 2003). This is not the place here to attempt a successful “proof” of the miracles of Jesus Christ — especially his greatest miracle, his rising from the dead. I wish merely to point to their very importance for modern empirically-minded man. Miracles are empirical, reported as such. We of the modern era ought immerse ourselves in the miracles of Jesus by a repeated reading of them in the Gospels. How do we get over our assumption, our prejudice that such miracles are so completely unlikely as to be incredible? We do this, I suggest, by contemplating the person of Jesus as much as possible. By getting to know Christ as a living person, we shall come to see that it is not at all unlikely that he did what the Gospels say he did. That is apart from the powerful reasons provided by such scholars as N. T. Wright. Now, the fact is that Christ himself repeatedly appealed to his miracles, and we have an instance of this in our Gospel today: he threatens the unbelieving towns with hell for not having believed on the basis of the miracles he had worked in their midst (Matthew 11:20-24).

The long and the short of the matter is that we should strive to draw near the living person of Jesus Christ. The Gospels are our best resource for this, placed in our hands by the Church whose books they are. Their Author is, ultimately, the Holy Spirit moving certain men to write of Jesus Christ, the Son of God our Redeemer. He spoke magnificent things and he did magnificent things. If we come to know him well we shall see that he knows all things and he can do all things. He is our Lord and our God, and the Saviour of mankind. All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to him. Let us make him the object of our love and contemplation.

“Jesus began to reproach the towns ... because they did not repent.” At times we can find ourselves with an image of God Our Lord that is quite a caricature. I am thinking of the image of Jesus as always mild, kind and benevolent — even in the face of sin. Our Gospel passage today shows that this was far from so. He reproached with harsh and vivid language “the towns in which most of his miracles had been worked, because they refused to repent.” He roundly and plainly told them that they were on the way to hell: "Capernaum, .... You shall be thrown down to hell." In his Anglican years, John Henry Newman used to say of the religious Liberals he was opposing that what they lacked was a wholesome fear — a fear, that is, of God. They regarded God as simply “benevolent”, and from such a person they felt they had nothing to fear. Now, this can be said of much of the religious culture of our day as well. Not many fear God — in fact they are indifferent to him. Perhaps it derives from a lack of a sense of personal sin and of the seriousness of sin. I have no sin, so what have I to fear? Very many people secretly refuse to acknowledge personal sin and therefore the need to repent. Their conscience is dormant, and as we see from Our Lord’s words, the secret refusal to repent opens the door to the path down to hell.

Let us not lay ourselves open to Our Lord’s condemnation that we are refusing to repent. We need to develop a lively religious conscience — including a lively consciousness of sin.

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When you celebrated the feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross you asked Our Lord, with the most earnest desire of your heart, to grant you his grace so as to “exalt” the Holy Cross in the powers of your soul and in your senses. You asked for a new life; for the Cross to set a seal on it, to confirm the truth of your mission; for the whole of your being to rest on the Cross! We shall see...

Entrance Antiphon: Cf. Ps 17 (16):15 As for me, in justice I shall behold your face; I shall be filled with the vision of your glory.

As German king and Holy Roman Emperor, Henry was a practical man of affairs. He was energetic in consolidating his rule. He crushed rebellions and feuds. On all sides he had to deal with drawn-out disputes so as to protect his frontiers. This involved him in a number of battles, especially in the south in Italy; he also helped Pope Benedict VIII quell disturbances in Rome. Always his ultimate purpose was to establish a stable peace in Europe. According to eleventh-century custom, Henry took advantage of his position and appointed as bishops men loyal to him. In his case, however, he avoided the pitfalls of this practice and actually fostered the reform of ecclesiastical and monastic life. (AmericanCatholic.org)

Being certain One of the most serious philosophical problems of the past couple of centuries is that of certitude. The ordinary person regards himself as being certain of various things in life — such as the fact of the world, the fact of his own existence and life, his family and friends, the fact of moral obligation and of his own obligations, and the various things that make up his life and which are quite evident to him. Importantly, his religious faith may be an objective certainty to him. Still, the objector may reply, philosophically speaking how can you be really certain of anything? Your knowledge of anything comes down to your personal impressions, and could not these “personal impressions” be ultimately just subjective impressions having no guarantee of objective validity? Further, even if one grants that one’s perception of reality has objective validity, still, there is the question of your having sufficient proof for the positions you hold. In any academic setting, if you make an assertion, or if you have an opinion, it is expected that you are able to prove it, and if you cannot, it is not regarded as reasonable that you continue to hold that opinion. What you take to be true must have commensurate reasons or premises to support your assertion. Is it ever possible, then, to get beyond likelihood, beyond probability? In the specific matter of religious belief, if you say that you are absolutely certain that God exists and that Jesus Christ is God, on what basis can you have this certitude? After all, your “reasons” can only take you to the point of high probability, at most. Thus it is that a philosophical theory if allowed to run without a vigorous critique and exposure, can seriously undermine religious faith. It can plant doubt at the heart of the mind, and impede the faith that leads to hope in and love for God and Jesus Christ. A false philosophy can undermine an objective religion. This is not the place to deal with epistemological scepticism. Suffice it here to observe that it so flies in the face of common sense as to warn anyone away from it. Would a married couple deeply in love with one another need “proof” of their love for one another in order to justify their certitude about it? Absolute certitude does not depend simply on demonstration, as the facts of life show.

I mention this question of religious certitude simply to introduce what our Lord says in our Gospel today. We can be certain of the high mysteries of our faith, those mysteries revealed by God, not because we can prove them for ourselves, but because God has revealed them. Now, the certitude possessed by the one who accepts this revelation is also a gift of grace. God aids, sustains and brings to fruition the effort of the humble and inquiring mind that seeks him. Grace is a decisive factor in religious knowledge. By his gift, God enables the disciple of Christ to be absolutely sure in his knowledge of the things of God. This is so not only for the highly educated and intelligent, but for the very ordinary, for the little ones. So it is that our Lord in today’s Gospel exults in the praise of his heavenly Father for showing heavenly things to mere children. “I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure. All things have been committed to me by my Father. No-one knows the Son except the Father, and no-one knows the Father except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him” (Matthew 11:25-27). As a matter of fact, not only is the knowledge of the Father and the Son possible with the aid of grace, but no-one will be able to reach the knowledge of the Father and of the Son without that grace. So it is that we have people of ordinary intellect and perhaps less than ordinary education having the greatest possible certitude about God and the revealed mysteries of Jesus Christ. Such people can be absolutely certain of the real presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist, of the divine constitution of the Church which Christ founded, of the certainty of the Church’s dogmatic teaching and of the certainty of the propositions of the Christian Creed. There are many things in ordinary life that the ordinary person can be and is certain of. So too, by the grace of God there are many mysteries of revealed religion that the ordinary baptized person can be and is certain of. Divine grace brings the blessing of religious certitude, and this certitude of faith is the foundation of sanctity.

Let those who have the blessing of faith, rejoice in the goodness of God. Such persons will be conscious of their religious certitude, even though they may not be able formally to prove what they know to be the fact. They have received as God’s gift that faith of which they are conscious. It enables them, indeed it inclines them, to trust totally in God who reveals his word. This enables them to be personally certain, and certain with genuine ease. They know without the plague of scepticism and doubt. On this basis they are able joyfully to seek union with God and to forgo all things because of what they know to be true.

“I am the God Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” Consider the landmark event narrated in our first reading today from the book of Exodus. It is the manifestation of God to Moses in the burning bush near the mountain of Horeb — Moses’ first encounter with the God of Israel. What does God reveal of himself? What does he show he is like? Firstly, he reveals that he is holy and utterly other than sinful man. “Come no nearer,” he instructed Moses. “Take off your shoes, for the place on which you stand is holy ground.” This is a fundamental feature of the God of Abraham: he is holy. Throughout the history of revelation, it is holiness that God will impress upon his chosen people and the requirements of holiness in all their relationships with him. “Be holy,” he would say, “for I am holy”. But there is more. He introduces himself as “the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob.” Now, in his dispute with the Sadducees over the resurrection of the dead, Our Lord said that these words of God to Moses prove that Abraham, Isaac and Jacob are still alive. God reveals himself to Moses as the God of the living, the God of life. Moreover, he has compassion for those who suffer — so he wishes them to have an abundant life. Therefore he sends Moses “to Pharaoh to bring the sons of Israel, my people, out of Egypt.” Our Lord would say to all that he had come to give life, life in abundance.

God wants us to live now with a share in his life, and to live forever the life of God in heaven. Let us appreciate that the only path to this life in abundance is the holiness that God wants of us.

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Mortification has to be constant, like the beating of the heart. In this way we will have dominion over ourselves and the charity of Christ for others.

Entrance Antiphon: Cf. Ps 17 (16):15 As for me, in justice I shall behold your face; I shall be filled with the vision of your glory.

The blood of martyrs is the seed of saints. Nine years after the Jesuits Isaac Jogues and John de Brébeuf were tortured to death by Huron and Iroquois Indians, a baby girl was born near the place of their martyrdom, Auriesville, New York. She was to be the first person born in North America to be beatified. Her mother was a Christian Algonquin, taken captive by the Iroquois and given as wife to the chief of the Mohawk clan, the boldest and fiercest of the Five Nations. When she was four, Kateri lost her parents and little brother in a smallpox epidemic that left her disfigured and half blind. She was adopted by an uncle, who succeeded her father as chief. Bl Kateri Tekakwitha

He hated the coming of the Blackrobes (missionaries), but could do nothing to them because a peace treaty with the French required their presence in villages with Christian captives. She was moved by the words of three Blackrobes who lodged with her uncle, but fear of him kept her from seeking instruction. She refused to marry a Mohawk brave and at 19 finally got the courage to take the step of converting. She was baptized with the name Kateri (Catherine) on Easter Sunday. Now she would be treated as a slave. Because she would not work on Sunday, she received no food that day. Her life in grace grew rapidly. She told a missionary that she often meditated on the great dignity of being baptized. She was powerfully moved by God’s love for human beings and saw the dignity of each of her people. She was always in danger, for her conversion and holy life created great opposition. On the advice of a priest, she stole away one night and began a 200-mile walking journey to a Christian Indian village at Sault St. Louis, near Montreal. For three years she grew in holiness under the direction of a priest and an older Iroquois woman, giving herself totally to God in long hours of prayer, in charity and in strenuous penance. At 23 she took a vow of virginity, an unprecedented act for an Indian woman, whose future depended on being married. She found a place in the woods where she could pray an hour a day—and was accused of meeting a man there! Her dedication to virginity was instinctive: She did not know about religious life for women until she visited Montreal. Inspired by this, she and two friends wanted to start a community, but the local priest dissuaded her. She humbly accepted an “ordinary” life. She practiced extremely severe fasting as penance for the conversion of her nation. She died the afternoon before Holy Thursday. Witnesses said that her emaciated face changed colour and became like that of a healthy child. The lines of suffering, even the pockmarks, disappeared and the touch of a smile came upon her lips. She was beatified in 1980.

Kateri said: “I am not my own; I have given myself to Jesus. He must be my only love. The state of helpless poverty that may befall me if I do not marry does not frighten me. All I need is a little food and a few pieces of clothing. With the work of my hands I shall always earn what is necessary and what is left over I’ll give to my relatives and to the poor. If I should become sick and unable to work, then I shall be like the Lord on the cross. He will have mercy on me and help me, I am sure.” (AmericanCatholic.org)

Jesus said, Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-30)

Rest and joy It is impossible to sum up the spirit of religion in the history of mankind, of course, because the religions of man display such vast differences. One could argue, though, that while religion is the undying tendency of man and society, it is nevertheless experienced as a burden. The gods tend to threaten, and one had better keep them placated. Diseases and other misfortunes are signs of their irritation and anger. There is a graphic portrayal in Cardinal Newman’s novel, Callista, of the response of the populace to the great locust plague which swept all before it. The plague was due to the Christian neglect of the gods — and this popular interpretation ultimately led to Callista’s martyrdom. The setting of that novel was the time of St Cyprian of Carthage — indeed he is a major character of the story. A century and a half later, at the time of St Augustine when the Vandals captured Rome (410 AD) and their hordes were threatening the Roman civilization, a popular pagan charge was that the neglect of the gods in favour of the Christian system had put the Empire in mortal danger. The gods were forsaking the Empire, and the Christian deity was helpless in the face of the threat. This perception was a major factor in Augustine’s writing his great work, The City of God. One of the points he made was that the old gods failed in the past and they were never held in high regard anyway. This, I suspect, is true of most of the religions of man — I doubt that the gods of the religions uninfluenced by Revelation have been held in high regard. Yet religion was alway seen as an anxious necessity. It is required, but it is not commonly a joy. When we turn to the revealed religion of the Hebrews at least as it is presented in the Gospels, we notice two things. Firstly, there are examples of genuine religion involving joy — and this is a notable feature of revealed religion at its best. We think of Mary, the mother of Jesus. We think of Elizabeth and Zechariah. We think of Simeon and Anna in the Temple. At the same time, Christ condemns the scribes and Pharisees for the burden that they made of religion for the ordinary person. They burdened them with their prescriptions and gave them no relief.

One of the many things Jesus of Nazareth brought to man was the notion that God is his joy and happiness, and the worship and service of him is rest for his soul. This is not to say that Revealed Religion before Christ did not teach this — on the contrary. We read in the Book of Sirach the invitation to seek “wisdom,” which of course is to be found in the God of the chosen people. Put your neck under her yoke, Sirach tells us. With all your soul draw close to her... Thus you will find rest in her, and she will become your joy (Sirach 6:25-29). Or again, in the same inspired Book, “wisdom” appeals to the “untutored” to “come aside to me ... and take up abode ... Submit to her yoke ... for she is close to those who seek her” (Sirach 51:23-26). All of this is fulfilled in Jesus Christ — in his very person. He is the wisdom of God that brings rest and joy. And so it is that we read our Lord’s consoling words, directed not only to his disciples but to the ages: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30). Where is the “wisdom” spoken of in the Book of Sirach, the “wisdom” that beckons to all that they come and seek her? It is found in the person of Jesus and in submitting to his yoke. For those who come to Christ, gentleness and humility will be encountered. There will not be the harshness and burdensomeness of the scribes and Pharisees, but peace and joy. But of course, if this is to be found, the condition must be accepted. The yoke of Jesus Christ must be actively received, and he must be looked to as one’s Master. Learn from me, he says. Take my yoke upon you, he insists. If we do this, rest will come — and we have the experience and testimony of the saints to guarantee this. Christ had the deepest joy amid the greatest of burdens. The greater the Cross accepted in the spirit of Christ, the greater the joy. Our Lord guaranteed that the one who leaves houses, family and all for him and for the Gospel will receive a hundred times this in the present life, with eternal happiness in the next.

One of the most widespread problems in modern society is gambling — making wagers. There is, however, one wager which is to be made by all, and if it is made it will bring the greatest of windfalls in the fulness of time. The wager is to stake all on Jesus Christ. Let us approach him, let us learn from him, let us take up his yoke, and we can be sure of finding rest for our souls. In fact, Jesus Christ is the only true rest for which our souls were made. Peace I leave you, Christ said, my own peace I give to you. Let us accept his word, knowing that in him is found eternal life.

“And God said to Moses, I Am who I Am.” Moses’ first meeting with God at the burning bush of Horeb was a foundational event in the history of the chosen people. Just as God revealed himself to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and in so doing revealed something of what he was like, so too — and perhaps even more — he revealed himself to Moses. Moses asked a striking question of God and received a most revealing answer. “But if they ask me what his name is, what am I to tell them? And God said to Moses, ‘I Am who I Am.’” God revealed himself as the One who exists. He simply exists, without anything to qualify or limit his fulness of being. Of nothing else could this be said, that it simply is — if only because all else has at least a beginning and in some sense changes over time. God is, was, and always will be God, and this was what Moses and the chosen people could always count on. He can never pass away or change from being what he is. Moreover, in sending Moses and in revealing his compassion for his suffering people, God reveals that he is one who is always present to his people to save. It is this present and saving God, a God of compassion, who always is. He is God with them, and he is always this.

Let us place our entire faith in the God who revealed himself to Moses, but finally and fully in his Son Jesus Christ, who is Emmanuel, God-with-us.

To love the Cross means being able to put oneself out, gladly, for the love of Christ, though it’s hard — and because it’s hard. You have enough experience to know that this is not a contradiction.

Entrance Antiphon: Cf. Ps 17 (16):15 As for me, in justice I shall behold your face; I shall be filled with the vision of your glory.

Bonaventure, Franciscan, theologian, doctor of the Church, was both learned and holy. Because of the spirit that filled him and his writings, he was at first called the Devout Doctor; but in more recent centuries he has been known as the Seraphic Doctor after the “Seraphic Father” Francis because of the truly Franciscan spirit he possessed. Born in Bagnoregio, a town in central Italy, he was cured of a serious illness as a boy through the prayers of Francis of Assisi. Later, he studied the liberal arts in Paris. Inspired by Francis and the example of the friars, especially of his master in theology, Alexander of Hales, he entered the Franciscan Order, and became in turn a teacher of theology in the university. Chosen as minister general of the Order in 1257, he was God’s instrument in bringing it back to a deeper love of the way of St. Francis, both through the life of Francis which he wrote at the behest of the brothers and through other works which defended the Order or explained its ideals and way of life. (AmericanCatholic.org)

At that time Jesus went through the cornfields on the Sabbath. His disciples were hungry and began to Shroud of Turin

pick some ears of corn and eat them. When the Pharisees saw this, they said to him, Look! Your disciples are doing what is unlawful on the Sabbath. He answered, Haven't you read what David did when he and his companions were hungry? He entered the house of God, and he and his companions ate the consecrated bread— which was not lawful for them to do, but only for the priests. Or haven't you read in the Law that on the Sabbath the priests in the temple desecrate the day and yet are innocent? I tell you that one greater than the temple is here. If you had known what these words mean, 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice,' you would not have condemned the innocent. For the Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath. (Matthew 12:1-8)

Lord of the Sabbath One of the truly distinguishing features of Jewish religion in the classical era was the Sabbath. Religious festivals and celebrations were a normal feature of religion, as they are of any era. But the Jewish Sabbath, the seventh day of rest and worship, enshrined in the third of the Ten Commandments, was virtually distinctive to Judaism. By the time of our Lord it had had a long and varied history spanning at least a millennium if not longer. It was one of the achievements of the Pharisee class that the Sabbath had attained such a central position in the practical life of the nation. But of course, what the Pharisees insisted on with such firmness was an interpretation of the divine law on the Sabbath. It was an interpretation among other interpretations, distinguished for its strictness, and by and large the Pharisaical interpretation had gained the ascendancy. In our Gospel scene today our Lord is walking through the cornfields on the Sabbath. Perhaps it was after the Synagogue service, and perhaps our Lord had been speaking at it — it is clear from the Gospels that it was our Lord’s practice during his public ministry to speak in the Synagogue on the Sabbath. If so, he was walking through the cornfields, with his disciples in his company. They were hungry after the morning’s proceedings. They began to pick ears of corn to assuage their hunger — and some Pharisees who were in the immediate area observed this. It was forbidden to “work” in the fields on the Sabbath — and picking ears of corn was a variant of harvesting. So the disciples of Jesus were in breach of the Sabbath rest — and this was a serious infringement not only of one’s personal religious life, but of the religious life of the nation. We need not presume that the Pharisees in question were in bad faith. They may have been lower-order Pharisees, reflecting their education, their personal practice, and the religious mind-set of their class. They approached our Lord to object to what he was permitting his disciples to do. With that, our Lord immediately reminded them of a Scriptural precedent for a humane and broader interpretation of religious law, in the practice of David. He gave them an instance from current practice too.

Of course, it all came down to interpretation. The said Pharisees had interpreted the Law of Moses on the practice of the Sabbath in the light of their ruling assumptions. Our Lord concluded his rejection of their strictures with the words of God in the prophet Hosea: “For it is love that I desire, not sacrifice, and knowledge of God rather than holocausts” (Hosea 6:6). Their starting point ought to have been that God is a God of mercy, love and compassion. The Book of the prophet Hosea is one of the most beautiful and influential in the Scriptures. It denounces the priests and the leaders, and speaks of God as Israel’s Lover and Spouse. The very chapter from which our Lord’s quotation comes (though, of course, there were no “chapters” as such), describes the forgiving love of God for his weak and wayward people. God “has struck us, but he will bind our wounds. He will revive us after two days; on the third day he will raise us up, to live in his presence” (6:1-2) — suggesting a resurrection on the third day which God will effect. The overriding aim should be to know the Lord, for “as certain as the dawn is his coming... he will come to us like the rain, like spring rain that waters the earth” (6:3). These Pharisees emphatically did not know the Lord, and they acted on a conception of him that was contrary to the vision of Hosea. Strive to know, our Lord insists with them, the meaning of God’s words in the prophet’s Book — “It is love, mercy, that I desire, not sacrifice, and knowledge of God rather than holocausts.” They were not conveying the knowledge of a God of compassion, mercy and love. All of this reminds us of how religion so often turns on interpretation. Christ appeared on the scene of God’s chosen people, presenting himself as the definitive interpretation of the Scriptures. He is their true interpretation and their fulfilment. He delivers to us their proper meaning, and they light up the fulness of what he teaches. Everything pivots around the person of Jesus Christ, far greater than what the Scriptures had formally expected, though all that they did expect found fulfilment only in him. This was rejected by the highest echelons of the nation.

Let us contemplate the clash that occurs in our Gospel scene of today. It ends with the singular notion that Jesus Christ is Lord — Lord, in this context, of the Sabbath. He is the Sabbath’s interpretation, and the Sabbath points to him. The “Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath” (Matthew 12:1-8). What the chosen people of God brought to the world was Jesus Christ, to whom has been given all authority in heaven and on earth. All the nations are called to be his disciples — and he can be located. We know where he is. He can be accessed easily. He resides in his body the Church, built on the Rock that is Simon Peter. Let us go to him then, and be with him always!

“When I see the blood I shall pass over you and you shall escape the destroying plague” In our first reading from the book of Exodus 11: 10-12:14, God institutes the Jewish feast of the Passover. It commemorated the Lord passing over the houses of the Israelites to strike the land of Egypt. Thus the Israelites escaped the destroying plague which was visited upon the Egyptians. They were to eat the Passover meal in commemoration of this deliverance, which pointed to their passing out of slavery and entry into the freedom of the promised land which was soon to come. The Passover meal in the fulness of time was transformed. Referring to himself in our Gospel passage of today (Matthew 12:1-8) Our Lord says that "here is something greater than the Temple". So too with the Passover — his was the new and greater Passover. The new Passover meal was, in the plan of God, the memorial of the new and definitive deliverance from the slavery of sin, and the passing over to a new life, life in Christ. This was effected in the death and resurrection of Christ, the new paschal lamb. This is commemorated and re-presented in the Mass, instituted by Christ the night before he died as he celebrated his last Passover meal with his disciples. The Mass not only is the memorial of the passing over at Calvary of mankind (in Christ) from sin, but mysteriously and by the power of God it always makes this great Passover present. The Mass is the making present of the sacrifice of Christ at Calvary, and in Holy Communion we enter into personal communion with Christ in his great sacrifice on our behalf.

Let us make Mass the greatest moment of every week, and if possible the greatest moment of every day. Let us fill our daily life with spiritual communions, uniting all parts of our day continually with the Eucharistic Jesus.

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Christian cheerfulness is not something physiological. Its foundation is supernatural, and it goes deeper than illness or difficulties. Cheerfulness does not mean the jingling of bells, or the gaiety of a dance at the local hall. True cheerfulness is something deeper, something within: something that keeps us peaceful and brimming over with joy, though at times our face may be stern.

Liturgical Season	Sun	Mon	Tues	Wed	Thurs	Fri	Sat
13th Week of Ordinary Time A-1						1 Sacred Heart of Jesus	2 The Immaculate Heart of Mary
14th Week of Ordinary Time A-1	3 or Indigenous People's Sunday	4	5	6	7	8	9
15th Week of Ordinary Time A-1	10	11	12	13	14	15