Are we celebrating “Conflict Sunday?” Look at the three scriptures for our reflection! We firsthear of poor Jeremiah having to prophecy that the Babylonian army would soon conquer Jerusalem. Hearing this, the military leaders petitioned King Zedekiah to have the prophet put to death for demoralizing the soldiers defending the city and the people Jeremiah was thrown into a muddy cistern and left to die. The king eventually rescued Jeremiah, but Jerusalem still fell to the Babylonians. Jeremiah would continue to be asked to speak harsh prophecies against the hard-hearted people of Israel. His suffering continued throughout his ministry.
We then listen to the letter to the Hebrews. “Persevere in running the race that lies before us while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus,” and reminds us that “in your struggle against sin you have not resisted to the point of shedding blood.” Was this bombshell of a statement meant to help them, and us, commit more deeply to the Christian way?
Finally, in the Gospel passage Jesus hits his disciples with a harsh and frightening prophecy. He shares that he was commissioned to begin the great purification. “I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it was already blazing.” He assures them that it will not be an easy task. It will involve a baptism of suffering for him. “How great is my anguish until it is accomplished.” He warns his followers that conflict and division will follow them.
We’re reminded in each of the scriptures today that the Christian way is difficult. It stands in opposition to the sin of the world – injustice, the idolatry of fame, wealth and power, bigotry, inequality, revenge and retaliation. Our call is noble and powerful but never easy. Let’s end with Jesus’ words at the Last Supper. “If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but because you do not belong to the world, and I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you.” (John 15:19)
Lord Jesus, as I approach your table today, I beg you to cleanse my heart with the fire of your love. Give me that strength and courage I need to commit myself to the work you have begun. I cry to you from the depths of my heart: may your Eucharistic Kingdom come.
In today’s gospel passage Jesus assured his disciples that his Father was pleased to give them the kingdom. They were looking forward to that great day when the kingdom of God would materialize, but their thinking about God’s kingdom was tainted by their ideas of worldly kingdoms, so Jesus gave them some things to think about.
He began by presenting them with a challenge. “Do not be afraid…Sell your belongings and give alms.” He was telling them that when they opened their hearts to the kingdom they would find themselves questioning the value of the things and the possessions they cling to for “security.” He stressed that their hearts must be firmly rooted in the values of the kingdom of God, not in the illusions of strength and security that the kingdoms of the world so boldly offer. This teaching led to an important related topic, the mindset of the disciple.
“Gird your loins and light your lamps and be like servants who await their master’s return from a wedding ready to open immediately when he knocks…be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.” Here Jesus was teaching his disciples that, as children of the kingdom, they had to conduct themselves as if each day was the last day of their lives and the day of final judgment. They must never coast along. They must be prepared and ready to serve the kingdom every moment of their lives. Jesus continued by assuring them that they would be rewarded for their loyalty and perseverance. The reward would be quite extraordinary. The Son of Man will have them recline at the table in the kingdom of God, and he himself will wait on them!
Peter then asked Jesus if the teaching was meant for the inner circle of apostles or for all disciples. Peter was speaking from his old mindset that the kingdom of God would function like a worldly kingdom. The “top brass” would be treated differently from the rank in file. Jesus couldn’t let this go by. He addressed Peter’s question by asking, and answering, another question. “Who, then, is that faithful and prudent steward whom the master will put in charge of his servants.” Jesus answered his own question by painting the picture of an unfaithful and imprudent steward.
In Jesus’ day the steward was a household slave who was given the authority to manage his master’s entire household and estate. He was very powerful. This particular slave thought that, because his master was away for an extended period of time, he had free reign to do whatever he wanted. He mistreated and beat the other slaves and went on a drinking binge. He was so very foolish to forget that a day of reckoning would inevitably come. His master would return and that steward would be severely punished for his lack of judgment and reckless behavior.
Jesus ended this series of teachings with a warning to his inner circle. The Father was most happy to give them a place in the kingdom. However, there are no “privileged” people in the kingdom. The children of the Kingdom are expected to devote themselves completely and wholeheartedly to the work of the Kingdom. They must never forget the fundamental principle of the Kingdom of God: “Much will be required of the person entrusted with much, and still more will be demanded of the person entrusted with much more.”
“What profit comes to a man from all the toil and anxiety of heart with which he has la- bored under the sun? All his days, sorrow and grief are his occupation; even at night his mind is not at rest.” Our reflection this week begins with these words of wisdom from the Book of Ecclesiastes.
A friend shared a family fact with me re- cently. He said that for many years his rela- tives, who lived in Spain, would come to the United States to visit during the summer. How- ever, a few years ago they stopped. The reason for their decision was quite interesting. They found our driven pace of life exhausting. They said that their relatives’ inability to stop and rest was off-putting to them. They didn’t enjoy vacationing in a place where people didn’t know how to stop to smell the roses. I understand exactly what they were saying because I’m the perfect example of the work-driven American.
Jesus addressed this very topic in the Gospel passage we read today. The pas- sage begins with someone in the crowd shouting out to Jesus, “Teacher, tell my brother to share the inheritance with me.” Jesus’ answer must have been very jarring to him. “Take care to guard against all
greed, for though one may be rich, one’s life does not consist of possessions.” Jesus seemed to have looked into the person’s heart but, instead of seeing a genuine de- sire for justice, saw greed.
It’s no secret to any of us that the distri- bution of an estate can become a family trauma. I knew a person who died in 2013. The estate still hasn’t been settled because of family squabbling. Everyone in the family is well-off financially, but everyone feels they deserve a larger piece of the pie.
Jesus was trying to redirect that man in the crowd. He saw that he was drowning in his desire for wealth and possessions. Je- sus was throwing him a life-jacket. By tell- ing him the story of the wealthy farmer, he was telling the man that he couldn’t take his wealth with him, and that true inner life could not be replaced by possessions.
I marvel at the super rich who so often act as if they need more money and possessions to be happy. They may have ten million, a hundred million, a billion, fifty billion dollars in assets, but it’s never enough. Would a few hundred homes make them happy? Would owning a thousand cars eventually make them happy? Jesus is teaching that wealth, though it can make us famous, and though it even has the potential to give us great power over the human family, isn’t permanent. The day will come when our wealth and power fades away with our last breath.
At the moment of our death we will free- fall into God’s hands without our wealth and fame, without our possessions. Will God look into his hands and ask, “What happened to you? What happened to the magnificent child I created? Where is the love I planted in your heart? Where is your glory? On that day God will look into his hands and weep for a life unlived.
Rich and poor and everyone in between, let’s end this reflection with Jesus’ greatest teaching.
“How happy are the poor in spirit – the kingdom of heaven is theirs. And how happy are the meek and the pure of heart, and those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. And how happy are those who mourn for others and are merciful to others. And oh, how happy are the peacemakers – the children closest to my heart. Rejoice and be glade, your reward will be great in heaven.”
Today’s first reading from the book of Genesis is, in my opinion, one of the most annoying passages in the Old Testament. God shared with Abraham that he was going to destroy the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah because the sins of the two cities were so great. Abraham then began to question God’s sense of justice. “Will you sweep away the innocent with the guilty?” Great question, but then the annoying part of the story begins. Abraham puts question after question to God. “Suppose there were 50 innocent people in the city; would you wipe out the place, rather than spare it for the sake of the 50 innocent people within it?” God gave him a good and direct answer. “If I find fifty innocent people in the city of Sodom, I will spare the whole place for the sake of the fifty.”
This answer wasn’t good enough for Abraham, though, so he continued with the questioning. What about 45? God answered, no. What about 40? God again said, no. What about 30? No, Abraham! What about 20? No, Abraham!! What about 10?
Enough already, Abraham!!! You should be thankful God hasn’t smitten you for being so intolerably annoying! But God is more patient than I am. God answered calmly, “For the sake of those 10, I will not destroy it.” At that point Abraham was satisfied and the story concluded.
There are two ways to interpret this passage. First. Abraham was testing God’s justice. Would God punish good people along with bad people? The answer was a loud, no! Abraham found that God was truly a just God. He wouldn’t destroy the cities even if there were only 10 good people living in them. God’s last answer stopped Abraham’s questioning. But if we were to expand Abraham’s basic question, is God just, we confront a problem. So, God’s not going to rid the world of sinners and people who do terrible things. But what about the good people trapped in the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah? Are they to suffer at the hands of these evil people?
We could, in our day, put the question this way. What about the victims of the holocaust!? What about the good people in North Korea? What about the Muslims in Chinese concentration camps? What about the people in Turkish and Russian prisons? Or even, what about the innocent children in our own detention camps in Texas? This question leads us to a second interpretation of the passage. This comes through our focusing on not the evil ones but on the 50, 40, 30, 20, 10 good people.
The passage is telling us that good people are the most powerful presence in the world even though their number may seem insignificant. Jesus gave us an insight into this. He taught that his disciples should be salt for the earth and light for the world. He told them to pray that God’s “will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” The righteous 10 or 50 or 1,000 are the foundation upon whom God can, and eventually will, build a world of justice that reflects the divine will. They’re essential to God’s process of evolution – their steadfast commitment to goodness and justice and love will assure that the time will come when God will be “all in all.”
Might they suffer at the hands of evil people? Yes, they might. But because they cling to what’s right and just, they, through their sacrificial love, feed the energy that moves the evolution God has set in motion. They’re the roots of the Tree of Life in the world. Under God’s loving care, those roots will grow and blossom in the fullness of time. May each of us claim our place among the 10, the 20, the 30…
The account of Jesus’ visit to the home of Mary and Martha is well known. Let’s think about some of the elements contained in the story.
Mary and Martha are close friends and disciples of Jesus. They’ve opened their home to him and a number of his other disciples and so have taken on the sacred obligation of hospitality. In the first reading for this Sunday we see what Middle Eastern hospitality involves.
Three strangers appear at the entrance to Abraham’s tent. He runs up to them inviting them to rest under the shade of the Terebinth tree. He has their feet washed, commands Sarah to make bread, and has his servants prepare a choice steer for their dinner. There’s no limit to Middle Eastern hospitality.
As Jesus is teaching his disciples it would be presumed that his hosts, Mary and Martha, would be running about making sure that the guests’ feet are washed, that they’re given something to drink and begin preparing food for them. Martha is fully committed to these tasks of hospitality. Mary, on the other hand, is brazenly breaking two strong social norms. She’s ignoring the obligation of hospitality and, she’s sitting with the men! Martha’s protest is quite understandable.
When Jesus tells Martha that Mary has “chosen the better part,” he’s inaugurating a radical new way, the Christian way. Saint Paul make it very clear. “For all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free person, there is not male and female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians 3:28) As disciples we’re asked to take up the radical, counter-cultural way of life Jesus modeled. We can’t allow anything to separate us from one another. Sometimes we even have to break the social norms. Sometimes we have to “welcome sinners and eat with them.”
Jesus, when asked by a “scholar of the Law,” what he must do to inherit eternal life, threw the question back into the scholar’s court. “What is written in the Law. How do you read it?” The answer was right on the tip of his tongue. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, (Deuteronomy 6:5) “and your neighbor as yourself.” (Leviticus 19:18) But knowing the answer and putting it into practice are two very different things. So, the scholar, “to justify himself,” asked Jesus a second question: “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus gave him a very down-to-earth example. He told him a story.
The story takes place along a 20 mile stretch of road that runs from Jerusalem, about 2,300 feet above sea level, to Jericho, about 1,300 feet below sea level. It’s a rough road with lots of twists and turns, and plenty of places for robbers to hide. A very imprudent man decided to walk the trek alone. Sure enough, he was attacked. Not only was he robbed but badly beaten and left for dead.
Jesus then inserted two people into the story. The first was a priest. At the time, many priests and wealthy citizens lived in Jericho. It was a pleasant oasis and was far less crowded then the Holy City with its continual stream of pilgrims. Yet it wasn’t so far from Jerusalem to discourage the periodic trip to serve at the temple. On his way to perform his ritual duty, the priest looked over at the man, but presuming that he was dead, didn’t dare go over to check on him lest he make himself unclean by touching a dead body. He would remain ritually impure for seven days and so be unable to fulfill his duty at the temple.
The second person to walk down the road was a Levite, a man assigned to a lesser role in the temple cult. He looked over at the man and, like the priest, made the decision to move on to Jerusalem without getting involved in this messiness. With these two examples Jesus was turning a subtle light on an important moral question. Is caring for someone in need less important than fulfilling a religious ritual?
The story continues with the appearance of a Samaritan businessman. The Samaritans were despised because they had broken from the Jewish communion when they erected their own temple on Mount Gerizim in Samaria, the area between Judea in the south and Galilee in the north. This man had no hesitation. He immediately went over to him. Discovering that he was still alive he proceeded to clean his wounds with wine, seal them with some oil, and bandage them. He put the man on his own animal and brought him to a local inn that he would regularly frequent. After caring for the man overnight, he paid the innkeeper up front to cover the length of the victim’s stay, promising when he returned again, to pay for any added expenses if the man needed to stay longer.
The priest, the Levite and the Samaritan had no idea who this man was. He had gotten himself into trouble by traveling along a dangerous road by himself. He had been left to die along the side of the road. All three men saw him. All three recognized his distress. Jesus then hit the “scholar of the Law’ with an easily answered question. “Which of the three, in your opinion, was neighbor to the robbers’ victim?”
On the way home from Mass today take note of the people you see who are in distress. Are any of them your neighbor?
Last week the scriptures asked us to ponder God’s personal call to us. It reminded us that it demands a total commitment on our part. This week the Gospel focuses on the teaching Jesus gave to his apostles to prepare them for their first missionary journey. His words to them are meant for us, too.
He began with a serious caution. “I am sending you like lambs among wolves.” Our call to announce, in word and deed, that “the Kingdom of God is at hand,” brings with it many challenges. The Kingdom of God will often be in contradiction with the world we live in. We have to be prepared for that. When a “different” kind of power emerges, it’s often perceived as a threat. When we put ourselves into God’s hands we break our allegiance to the world. We become countercultural. We become free and independent agents who are no longer under the control of the values and power structures of the world.
Jesus continued his instruction by telling the apostles not to carry a money bag. In other words, don’t expect wealth and riches if you commit yourself to the Kingdom. Wealth and riches are a benchmark of success in the world, no so in the Kingdom. St. Paul, the greatest missionary of the early Church, said when speaking of his ministry, “I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints, for the sake of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong.” Our power, God’s power, is love – selfless love – love that doesn’t demand anything in return. What we give, we give freely. We expect nothing in return.
Jesus also told the apostles to accept food and lodging from people. He wanted them to trust not only in God, but also in the goodness of others. They were to repay whatever hospitality they received with a blessing of peace. The reign of peace in one’s heart is the sign of the presence of the Kingdom of God within us.
Our Gospel passage ends with the return of the 72 disciples from their first missionary excursion. They came back rejoicing because even demons were subject to them through the name of Jesus. In spite of the success they enjoyed, Jesus cautioned them, and us, not to let success go to our heads because success can feed our hunger for worldly power. When we labor in the vineyard of the Lord, we must always keep in mind that our success is from God and not from us.
Jesus’ final words to us are so very important. “Do not rejoice because the spirits are subject to you but rejoice because your names are written in heaven.”
We begin this Sunday’s reflection with the account of the call of the prophet Elisha. It was just an ordinary day for Elisha. He was plowing his field, but God had directed Israel’s greatest prophet, Elijah, to anoint Elisha as his successor. When he found him, Elijah immediately placed his cloak over Elisha’s shoulders. God’s invitation came through that simple gesture. Elijah had passed on his prophetic mantle. It was a serious moment. Elisha’s response was immediate and radical. He asked permission to give a final kiss to his father and mother. He then slaughtered the oxen that had been pulling his plow and used the wood of the plow to offer them up as a holocaust to God. In that sacrifice he offered his entire past to God. Freed of any and all attachments, he left everything he knew and followed the prophet Elijah.
The theme of “the call” is taken up and developed in the Gospel. We begin with a scene of failure.
Jesus and the apostles were on their way to Jerusalem and were passing through Samaria. The apostles went ahead of him in an attempt to do some preliminary preaching but they were rejected by the people. They were filled with anger against the Samaritans. “Lord, do you want us to call down fire from heaven to consume them?” Their anger was met with a rebuke from Jesus. He redirected their vision and continued on the missionary journey.
As they traveled along, Jesus was inviting people to follow him. He met one rejection after another. They weren’t hostile rejections, however. There were half-hearted acceptances of his invitation. “First, let me go and bury my father.” “Let me say farewell to my family at home.”
Jesus clearly wanted more from them. “Let the dead bury their dead. But you, go and proclaim the Kingdom of God!” He wanted them to break from their past just as Elisha the prophet did. “No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the Kingdom of God.” And to those who said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go,” he raised a serious caution. “Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head.”
These scriptures are a reminder for us. We’ve been called, too. Seriously, we’ve been called! We’re not here in this church by accident. We’ve been anointed – baptized into the life and mission of Jesus. Yes, quite seriously, each of us has been called, just as the prophets were called, just as the apostles were called. Today, the Church is reminding us of the radical nature of that calling.
Today we’re being asked to assess our response to Jesus’ call. What does it mean for me to be a follower of Christ? How does it touch my everyday life? How does it touch the people I meet and work with every day? How radical is my response to the call? Do I keep looking back?
Today, we’re invited to raise a renewed and radical “yes’ to God’s personal call.
Before you read this reflection look up to the Latin text that surrounds this church. It’s the first two stanzas of a hymn written by St. Thomas Aquinas. The text begins in the sanctuary on the left side of the high altar, continues along the south side of the church, and concludes at the spot where the text began – the left side of the high altar. The text and the translation follow.
Lauda Sion Salvatorem,
Lauda ducem et pastorem,
In hymnis et canticis.
Quantum potes, tantum laude,
Quia maior omni laude,
Nec laudare suffices.
Laudis thema specialis,
Panis vivus et vitalis
Quem in sacrae mensa cenae,
Turbae fractrum duodenae
Datum non ambigitur.
Zion, praise the Savior,
praise the Shepherd and King
with Hymns and canticles.
As much as you can, as much as you
dare to raise up the greatest praise
it is insufficient.
Today we lift up the unique theme,
the living, and life-giving bread.
There is no ambiguity
about the meaning of the sacred
meal that was shared by the band of
Whenever we’re in this church, the memory of the Last Supper and the institution of the Eucharist is ever-present in these words of St. Thomas Aquinas. They remind us to reflect on the miracle of the sacred meal, the bread and the wine – the body and blood – the Eucharist. There isn’t any ambiguity about what we believe. Our Lord is always with us, continually offering himself to us as food for everlasting life.
Jesus calls us to gather around the sacred table just as he gathered the Twelve. He says to us what he said to them: “Take it, this is my body.” He’s telling us that he’s giving us his all – every fiber of his being. He telling us, “This is my blood of the covenant.” He’s inviting us into a new relationship – a covenant relationship with God.
When we eat the sacred bread of Christ’s body, and drink the wine of the covenant, his blood shed as a sacrificial offering for the redemption of the world, we’re invited into a deeply intimate relationship with God and one another. St. Paul teaches us, “The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because the loaf of bread is one, we, though many, are one body, for we all partake of the one loaf.”
Before you leave this church today I encourage you to look around. Every window speaks of the Eucharist. There are representations of the Passover, the Last Supper, the multiplication of the loaves and fish, the washing of the disciples’ feet. Most importantly, our Eucharistic Lord is present on the altar for our adoration, our prayer and our praise.
Before you leave the church today spend some quiet time in adoration. Lift your own hymn of praise to the Lord who sustains you with his body and blood, and who unites you into an intimate relationship with the Father, and our brothers and sisters in faith. Pray Jesus’ Last Supper prayer: “May they all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they may also be in us, that the world may believe that you sent me.” (John 17:21) Thank Jesus for the greatest gift he could have ever given us, his body and blood in the Eucharist.