Tuesday of the Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time
The gospel today brings up the idea that there is something childlike about Christian faith. This raises the question of the main differences between children and adults. It occurs to me that being an adult comes with certain privileges but it also includes many responsibilities that children do not have. Adults have more autonomy and they can make more decisions for themselves, but they are also responsible for their decisions in ways that young children are not. Adults may have other people – family and friends – who depend on them for material and emotional support in ways that children do not experience. And adults perhaps have more to worry about – making ends meet, providing for their families, and planning for the future.
Memorial of Saint Clare, Virgin
Recently at the Faith Formation Summit at our parish, we discussed the importance of “accompanying” others on their journey of faith. I was fortunate enough to experience “accompaniment” first hand as I traveled with 15 other individuals on our recent pilgrimage to Turkey. Traveling to the holy sites such as Ephesus and Antioch were inspiring experiences, but it was being together with the other pilgrims- walking together, praying together, sharing our reflections- that deepened and enriched my journey. Although we were all traveling together, each of us had different insights, gifts, and perspectives that allowed the other people on the trip to see faith from a slightly different angle. I could have gone to all the same places-and taken the exact same trip, but what I experienced would not have been the same. I was reminded of what it means to accompany others with Christ when I read today’s reading. The disciples were constantly on a journey with Jesus as they traveled from one place to the next. Through sharing the day to day experiences, supporting one another through the challenges, and sharing this common bond of friendship with Jesus, they were able to help deepen each other’s belief in Jesus and His teachings. In many ways, our daily living is a journey or pilgrimage as we travel to our sacred home of heaven. With a community of believers to walk with us, not only are we more likely to arrive at our destination, but we will be blessed with richer, deeper and better understanding of what it means to be the Body of Christ.
Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
This past June, I conducted a half day retreat for the NAIM group. This group is for widows and widowers who come together every month and give each other support and companionship. Among the thirty or so participants was a Pat Aicher who came into the room with a walker. I saw her sit very carefully into her chair. Immediately, a few other ladies from the group came and propped her legs on a chair in front of her. I was most impressed with the kindness. During break time, Pat slowly made her way to the restroom as I stayed in the retreat room to prepare for my next session. Pat was back soon and as she walked in, she said to me, “I know you Father.” She said that she had attended my Lenten silent retreat on Teresa of Avila a few years back. I had conducted yet another Lenten retreat this last Lent and I did not remember her being there. So I told her that I had conducted another retreat and if she would like to be contacted about my Lenten silent retreat in 2015. What she said in response sent a chill down my spine. She said, “I would like to, Father, but I will not live that long. The doctors have given me only six weeks. I have cancer.” My immediate reaction was, “So what are you doing here?” I do not remember her response but I remember saying to her, “You are a strong woman! If I were you, I would be lying in bed wallowing in self-pity.” She said, “Naaagh! That’s not for me. I know where I am going. I am not worried!” And then she asked me if I would prop her legs on to the chair in front of her. When I did that, my hands were trembling. About four weeks after my retreat, I got news that Pat Aicher had died.
Saturday of the Eighteenth Week in Ordinary Time
Time can be a struggle for me. Managing it. Appreciating it. Giving it to others. Exhibiting patience. I’m always on the go, trying to squeeze ten minutes of work into five, and can often be late as a result. The older I become, the more vaporous time seems to be and the more speedily it appears to pass, as it seems that my nearly 2 year old son was born just yesterday. Where did the time go? Perhaps you share some of these same struggles with the reality of time? I suspect I’m not alone, considering the many musical artists who have puzzled and lamented over this same reality- from Chicago asking if “anybody really knows what time it is?” to John Mayer pleading for “someone to stop this train” to Hootie and the Blowfish asking, “Time, why you punish me?” Time is a mysterious part of our human experience. For reflection today I would like to focus on the theme of time, remembering that as the Word became flesh, the eternal Word, Jesus Christ, not only entered the world He created but also entered the time He began.
Memorial of Saint Dominic, Priest
I had a professor in seminary who liked to look for good examples and ideas for homilies in nearly everything: films, poetry, walks in the woods, and especially the difficult material we would read for his classes. Whenever he discerned something that would make a good homily, he'd excitedly tear off his glasses, peer at us with wonder, and exclaim, "That'll preach!" If it would inspire people to follow Jesus - "that'll preach!" If it was true, and beautiful, and difficult to live out, that would be the moment when he would make his cry: "That'll preach!"
Thursday of the Eighteenth Week in Ordinary Time
A few years ago I had a voice teacher who was helping me learn and memorize a new piece of music. I knew the music, but I found that I would get stuck on the words. She was confident that the words were already in my heart, I just had to relax my mind and allow the words to “bubble up.” Well, I tried it, and she was right. When I wasn’t thinking so hard about it, the words floated up and I knew them. This is what I think of as knowing something “by heart.”
Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord
A few months ago I was talking to a friend who was going through a great deal of suffering. I remember thinking to myself that no one should have to endure so much. The person had an amazing spirit and saw this suffering as part of the process of living and that they were called by God to persevere. A few weeks later this friend thanked me for being a source of spiritual comfort and strength in their time of need. They thanked me and said my support had brought a bright light into their darkness.
Tuesday of the Eighteenth Week in Ordinary Time
I must admit today’s gospel reading always makes me think of “Looney Tunes,” when Wile E. Coyote chases the Road Runner off a cliff only to realize after a few feet that he can’t walk on air. While St. Peter is the rock upon which the Church is built, the gospels are also peppered with his many failings. What always impresses me about St. Peter are both the honest intentions that precipitate his mistakes and the fact that they never dissuaded him from failing again. Near the beginning of his recent apostolic exhortation, Evangelii Gaudium (a long document but worth the read) Pope Francis states, “God never tires of forgiving us, we are the ones who tire of seeking his mercy.” Failure is a human inevitability. Today’s readings help us to see God’s eternal patience in the face of our many foibles.
Memorial of Saint John Vianney, Priest
While reflecting on today’s Gospel I was struck by how doubt plays such a significant part in our human journey. For me, the word ‘doubt’ carries an inherently negative connotation. But when I thought a bit more about my own experiences of doubt I began to realize that many good things have transpired in my life because I have allowed myself to experience doubt. In other words, even though doubt may be associated with insecurity, ambiguity, and other such uncomfortable feelings, most significant changes in my life have been a result of my acceptance of the particular discomfort and/or insecurity associated with doubt.
Saturday of the Seventeenth Week in Ordinary
When we feel an attachment to a group it can be so hard to hear someone speak truthfully about its issues and flaws. In our own recent history it is easy for people to appeal to patriotism as why you can’t say anything criticizing America. Or a room can get uncomfortably silent if you speak about issues that the Church needs to work out. These examples could go on and on, but I think they relate to our reading from Jeremiah today.
Memorial of Saint Alphonsus Liguori, Bishop and Doctor of the Church
There have been many changes in my life - my conversion to Catholicism was one - that were very hard to make. Some of that was about me, but some of it was about the people in my life who loved me. That can make it even harder to make changes.
Today, we remember Saint Alphonsus Liguori. He trained as a lawyer at the age of 16, and was very successful in his career. But he also worried about its effects on him, and wrote to a friend: "My friend, our profession is too full of difficulties and dangers; we lead an unhappy life and run risk of dying an unhappy death. For myself, I will quit this career, which does not suit me; for I wish to secure the salvation of my soul." Eventually, he did leave and trained to be a priest - something that made his father somewhat displeased. Liguori persisted, however, becoming a renowned homilist who founded several youth "chapels" and later became a bishop.
Memorial of Saint Ignatius of Loyola, Priest
Fire. Fire has many qualities – it can purify, destroy, cook, refine, inspire and frighten. Fire can come in the form of a back-yard camp out with friends or an out of control forest fire. Fire can be powerful and life-changing.
Today is the memorial of St. Ignatius of Loyola. Ignatius in fact means the “fiery one”. Much like fire, Ignatius, was both destructive and refining, a person to be feared and a man of inspiration. The defining difference in Ignatius’ life was God. Before his conversion, Ignatius was a knight. He fought in many battles, unharmed and was seen as a valuable asset in battle. In 1521 he was hit by a cannonball and sustained serious injuries. During his time in recovery Ignatius underwent a deep and profound conversion. Following this conversion he formed the Jesuit order and wrote the Spiritual Exercises, a set of Christian meditations and prayers meant to help the reader delve deeper into Christ’s life.
Wednesday of the Seventeenth Week in Ordinary Time
Life can be so hard sometimes. It seems like when problems come they tend to accumulate to what seems like an avalanche of issues. For some people when this happens they want to curl up in a ball with their hands over their head and beg for the chaos to stop. This kind of turtle approach, of pulling inside ones shell, only delays and often worsens the issues one faces.
Memorial of Saint Martha
I keep telling my husband that the world feels like it’s on fire. Two weeks ago, I wrote about Israel, and it seems things have only gotten worse. Today’s reading from Jeremiah is another lament that seems all too appropriate for the strife of the Holy Land: “Let my eyes stream with tears, day and night, without rest, Over the great destruction which overwhelms the virgin daughter of my people, over her incurable wound.” But today’s gospel reading brings the pain and strife expressed by Jeremiah’s words down to the level of one family. Martha and Mary have lost their brother, Lazarus. Martha, the woman whose memorial we celebrate today, greets Jesus with both brutal honesty and earnest faith. She tells Jesus that if he has been there, Lazarus would not have died. On the one hand, she is scolding him through her tears of grief. On the other, she is expressing her deep faith in the God she finds incarnate in Jesus himself. Martha also expresses her faith in the resurrection of the dead, saying to Jesus, ““I know [Lazarus] will rise, in the resurrection on the last day.” The story cuts off before the climax, which is when Jesus rises his friend from the grave.
Monday of the Seventeenth Week in Ordinary Time
My husband and I recently returned from a pilgrimage to Turkey where we traveled in the footsteps of St. Paul and visited sites of the early church. It was an inspiring experience to witness the thousands of miles that St. Paul traveled by land and sea to spread the Good News. When reading the scripture reading today, St. Paul helps these parables come to life for me. Through his personal encounter with Jesus on the road to Damascus, the seed was planted. St. Paul recognizes God’s love has been lived out in the life of Christ. He takes this understanding, and like yeast in a loaf of bread, spends his life sharing all about Christ, His love and salvation. We too are called to be missionaries for the kingdom of heaven. Jesus calls each of us to a personal encounter with Him, so we can experience His great love and mercy. With prayer, scripture, sacrament, and community this love and faith grows. Then, like St. Paul, we are sent out to be leaven for this world which is so in need of God’s healing love, grace, and mercy.
Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Today’s first reading captures the most inspiring moment of Solomon’s life. For reasons I will explain later, Solomon’s success is not where I want to begin this homily. I would like to begin with the tragic later-half of his life. Solomon was only the third king of Israel. He inherited the throne because David had promised Bathsheba (the wife he had illegitimately gotten) that her son Solomon would inherit the throne rather than Adonijah, the legitimate heir. God honored David’s promise and today’s reading tells the story of Solomon’s beginning to fame. But it is what happened afterwards that is appalling. Solomon made two major errors. First, in direct disobedience to God’s covenant with Moses, he employed Canaanites as forced laborers, and in this way did what the Egyptians had done to the Israelites. Second, he took about 700 women as wives and 300 concubines from most of the neighboring cultures. To make it worse, Solomon erected altars to the alien gods of these wives. He was personally involved in the construction of some of these shrines. This was in direct violation of the first commandment. God was angry with Solomon. Twice before, God had appeared to him and warned him of the dangers of disobedience (1 Kings 11:9-10). And that is exactly what happened. Solomon’s son Rehoboam succeeded Solomon but under his rule ten of the twelve tribes formed the northern kingdom. Tragically, Israel was split in two because of Solomon’s deeds.
Memorial of Saints Joachim and Anne, Parents of the Blessed Virgin Mary
Reading today’s passage from Jeremiah, I was reminded of another prophet (in my opinion he was a prophet). A modern day prophet living in the same setting that crafted saints like Maximillian Kolbe and John Paul the Great. This man was a Lutheran pastor named Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I was reminded of him because Jeremiah’s passage and the opening chapter of Bonhoeffer’s book, The Cost of Discipleship, are like long lost brothers separated by several thousand years.
Feast of Saint James, Apostle
Thursday of the Sixteenth Week in Ordinary Time
Vince and I are celebrating our 25th Wedding Anniversary this month. It’s kind of hard for me to believe we’ve been married that long. We were fairly young, just a year or two out of college, which seems younger and younger as our first child is about to head off to college! But we were very much in love and ready to face whatever life would bring, together. This occasion for celebrating and reflecting on where we began as a couple more than twenty-five years ago comes to mind as I read and reflect on today’s first reading from Jeremiah (2:1-3, 7-8, 12-13).
Wednesday of the Sixteenth Week in Ordinary Time
I remember the day when it became clear to me that I was going to be a father. It was just a few weeks before our first son going to be born. What shocked me was how much fear I had about the responsibility of being a dad. My prayer at the time was filled with doubt. I almost believed that I was not called to be a dad. I thought I was not ready for what was coming.