St. Alphonsus Rodríguez, Religious

St. Alphonsus Rodríguez was born in Segovia, Spain, on July 25, 1533. He was a wool merchant by trade, married, and had three children. It was through the death of his wife and children that God chose to lead him to an extraordinary intimate union with himself. Being a widower, he thought of the priesthood, but he was told that he was too old to begin studies. He was then about thirty-five years of age. He thus entered the Jesuits as a coadjutor brother in 1571, and later that year he was sent to the College of Montesión in Palma on the island of Mallorca, where he was made doorkeeper and remained for the next forty-six years of his life. Externally, his life had nothing extraordinary or remarkable about it. He fulfilled his monotonous job with uncommon fidelity, humility, charity, kindness, and obedience, and thus he became a saint. He encouraged the students to have devotion to our Lady and to pray the rosary, and it was he who suggested to Peter Claver (see September 9) to go to the missions in the New World. St. Alphonsus died at Palma on October 31, 1617, and only after his death was it learned how God had favored him with mystical graces, ecstasies, and visions. He was canonized by Pope Leo XIII in 1888. The prayer in the Mass today reminds us that in faithful service as lived by St. Alphonsus, God has shown us the way to joy and peace.

Thirtieth Sunday

First reading: The Prayer of the Humble (Sira 35:15–17, 20–22)

The Book of Sira was translated into Greek by the grandson of the author. The grandfather wrote in Hebrew. He was a wise, witty and sometimes cynical teacher of Jerusalem, who gathered and built on the pithy sayings of the sages. The first part of this reading, about the widow’s persistent appeal to the Lord, may well be the basis of last Sunday’s parable of the persistent widow and the unjust judge. Did Jesus build his parable on this piece of wisdom of the ancients, or did Luke use the Book of Sirach to expand Jesus’ teaching? So also the second part of the reading, which prepares us for today’s parable of contrasting suppliants, proud and humble, in the Temple: did Jesus build on the ancients or Luke? Jesus certainly heard and learnt from the holy books of Judaism. Whether Jesus directly used it or not, the message of the two parts is clear in the phrase that joins them: whoever whole heartedly serves God will be accepted. There is no pretending in prayer. As a wise old priest once said to me: ‘In prayer you can stop pretending to be Queen Victoria or a poached egg.’

Question: What is the best short prayer you know?

Second reading: Paul’s Farewell (2 Timothy 4:6–8, 16–18)

This is the last Sunday reading from the ‘Pastoral Letters’, addressed to Paul’s assistants, Timothy and Titus. Fittingly, it is a summing up and defence of his mission, according to the literary conventions of the time. We do not know where the trial he mentions took place, or the eventual outcome, although the tradition holds strong that he was martyred in Rome (and his severed head bounced three times, giving rise to three fountains, the famous Tre Fontane). In his letters, Paul several times mentions imprisonment, but nowhere a formal trial, so that we can only guess. Did he set out on further journeys, even to Spain, after his confinement in Rome? We do not know. The sporting images of ‘the good fight’ and the ‘race’ are typical of Paul, and also the image of a libation, the first few drops from a cup of wine, offered in homage to a divinity. But most of all we are reminded that Paul had long yearned for death and to be fully united to his Lord and ours: ‘Life to me, of course, is Christ, and death would be a positive gain’ (Philippians 2:21), although he was held back by the positive need for his energetic guidance.

Question: Can you make any of Paul’s self-defence your own?

Gospel: The Pharisee and the Tax Collector (Luke 18:9–14)

These two figures are stock characters, sketched with Luke’s brilliant wit and sensitivity. The gospels invariably give the Pharisees a bad press, since after the destruction of Jerusalem they were the only surviving branch of Judaism, so stand for the vigorous opposition of Judaism to Christianity at that time. The Jewish historian, Josephus, paints a sympathetic picture of them, and Matthew’s picture of them as the personification of hypocrisy may be a caricature of their fussiness of observance. Jesus played them at their own game in the careful interpretation of scripture, although with more profound understanding; was he a Pharisee too? Preoccupation with exact observance of rules can often appear to outsiders as hypocrisy. At that time a tax collector was the epitome of malpractice, extortion and abandonment of all decent standards. He worked for the hated Roman occupying power; he had to make his own living by extorting excessive tax. So this is one more example of the reversal of all expected values, and Jesus’ outreach to those generally despised, the woman notorious in the city as a sinner, the woman taken in adultery, Zacchaeus and the ‘good thief’. It beautifully fulfils the first reading: ‘the prayer of the humble pierces the clouds.’

Reflection: God be merciful to me. I am a sinner.

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The Sunday Word: A Commentary on the Sunday Readings (Wansbrough, Henry)

Thirtieth Sunday of Ordinary Time—Year C

Lectio

   Luke 18:9–14

Meditatio

“O God, be merciful to me a sinner.”

   I like this story in Luke. I should, for by now I have lived it a million times! One of my friends will often remind me, “It’s not about you. It’s about him.” Jesus addresses this parable to “those who were convinced of their own righteousness and despised everyone else.” I understand righteousness to mean being in right relationship, in harmony, with God, neighbor, and self. How can you be in right relationship with God or anybody else if you despise anyone?

So what is going on in this story? Jesus wants us to know how to pray, and gives us two types of behavior: one to avoid, one to emulate. The attitude to avoid is one in which the Pharisee thanks God for himself and his own excellence. Being biased in his own favor, he compares himself to his neighbor, who comes up short. The tax collector, instead, doesn’t look around, doesn’t compare himself, doesn’t offer accomplishments or excuses. He just presents himself to the Author of Life and says, “O God, be merciful to me a sinner.” In this parable, the Lord teaches us that humility is key. Why? Because he wants more for us. To receive it, we need to come out of our smug little worlds where each of us reigns supreme. The Lord wants to gift us with the fullness of his life and kingdom. He tells us, “Everything I have is yours” (Lk 15:31). In order to enjoy this “everything,” we need to let go of always needing to be right and to measure everything by our own criteria. Rather, it’s all about God. It’s all about letting God be God, keeping our eyes on his goodness and asking for his help. We need to keep our places, as people belonging to him, adopted in Christ. In the truth of who we are, we can ask humbly and confidently, “be merciful to me a sinner.” One cannot earn this gift; it is freely given with love.

Oratio

   Dear God, sometimes I don’t trust you enough because of my fear. I know I fail, but I’d rather point out other people’s faults than admit to my own. You are our Father, who loves us all and desires our good. Teach me to let go of judging others, since I lack your divine wisdom, mercy, and love. Help me keep my eyes on you and your mercy, trusting that you will forgive and heal all of us. Help me be grateful for the person you have made me, and the gift I can offer you of a loving, humble heart.

Contemplatio

   Lord, it’s all about you. I am so grateful for your gifts.

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ORDINARY GRACE Weeks 18–34: Daily Gospel Reflections (By the Daughters of St. Paul)

Twenty-Ninth Sunday of Ordinary Time—Year C

Lectio

   Luke 18:1–8

Meditatio

“… pray always without becoming weary.”

   How can a person “pray always”? Don’t we need to go about our daily lives, fulfilling our obligations, using our mind to its full potential? If we are occupied, how can we “pray always”? Jesus is not suggesting that we spend all our time in prayer. Instead, he is encouraging us to pray, to keep on going, and to nurture our relationship with him even when we feel weary. We don’t want to give up on God, because he never gives up on us and pursues us as a smitten lover would. We don’t want to let shame lead us away from God, because he loves us unconditionally. We don’t want to turn away from God, because he doesn’t turn his back on us and is always gently guiding our eyes toward him.

   When we find prayer to be easy, we imagine never giving it up. But when we come to rocky and tumultuous times of prayer, it is difficult to sustain conversation with God. Yet the saints and mystics unanimously urge us never to lose heart. We need to persevere even when we feel nothing, when we are angry at God, when we are bored, and when our interests pull us in an entirely different direction. Through it all, we must not grow weary but remain faithful to prayer, convinced of God’s unfailing love and fidelity. Prayer can take many forms, whether it is the prayer of the Church (liturgical prayer) or private devotion. Our prayer may be long, or it may consist of brief conversations with the Lord. We can raise our hearts to praise God for a grace received, for the beauty of creation, or to ask for favors. We can pray for ourselves, and we can bring to God the needs of others. Above all, we may always ask God to give us the gift of prayer—the gift of enjoying a familiar, loving, and grateful relationship with him.

Oratio

   Lord God, may you be praised for the beauty of dawn and sunset. Lord God, help those people who are suffering due to natural disasters. Lord God, grant that my family may be safe. Lord God, I love you and praise you! Amen.

Contemplatio

   “Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing” (Jn 15:5).

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ORDINARY GRACE Weeks 18–34: Daily Gospel Reflections (By the Daughters of St. Paul)

Twenty-ninth Sunday

First reading: Perseverance in Prayer (Exodus 17:8–13)

This battle scene seems to us nowadays a bit of an odd passage to choose to reinforce the gospel lesson of perseverance in prayer. Can we still pray for the slaughter of our enemies? An important value of these bloodthirsty passages of the Old Testament is to remind us that revelation is gradual: we cannot take in everything at once. Look how long it took us to realize that the logical consequence of Paul’s little letter to Philemon is the total abolition of slavery! Paul didn’t realize it, and neither did most Christians for 1700 years. Future generations may think our morality primitive, too, as we or our successors come to understand Christianity ever more fully. However, prayer can be exciting and uplifting, but it can also be boring and exhausting, with just that sinking feeling of exhaustion: ‘I can’t hold my hands up any longer.’ That is when we need really get on and hang on in there, expressing that God is not just one Mr Fixit among many possibles, but is our only hope and dependence. Cupboard love alone will not do, neither will a last-minute turn to someone about whose existence we had practically forgotten.

Question: When is it important to turn to prayer?

Second reading: The Uses of Scripture (2 Timothy 3:14–4:2)

The inspired writer seems to be devoting much of his space to the use of scripture in preaching and controversy, but most of all the scriptures ‘instruct you for salvation’. We have to receive the message, and take it to our own hearts before we can pass it on to others. This is by seeing the variety of ways in which God cares for us, his ever present forgiveness in all our idiotic mistrust and shying away, our stubborn preference for our own search for happiness. Only by immersing ourselves regularly in the scriptures and growing to love these varied glimpses of God can we come to draw out their richness and sweetness. And there are plenty of difficulties to be overcome: the strangeness of language and ancient ways of thought, the barbaric primitiveness of the Chosen People of God, the boring instructions on sacrifice and purity. Don’t rush it or gobble it up. Go your own pace, and remember that it began as God’s Word to Abraham, Moses, David or whoever, or Jesus helping his contemporaries to understand about the Kingdom, or Paul responding to the queries of his half-instructed converts. But now it is God’s Word to you.

Question: What is your favourite passage of scripture?

Gospel: The Answer to Prayer (Luke 18:1–8)

We often think of prayer as mere asking, and this parable encourages us to pester God as the wronged widow pestered the Unjust Judge. But that is only one aspect of Luke’s teaching on prayer. He also shows us what our attitude in prayer should be, by the parable immediately following in the gospel, the Pharisee and the Tax Collector: the tax collector wins approval because he just stands there, admitting his sins. Most instructive, however, is Luke’s teaching on Jesus at prayer: he reminds us that Jesus is always quietly at prayer to his Father. He needs to slip away to spend the night in prayer. Especially he prays at the most important moments of his life, at his baptism, when he chooses his team, before he teaches them to pray, at the approach of his Passion, finally forgiving and comforting others at his death. Paul tells us we should pray continually. The prayer of asking must be built on a relationship of love and dependence, just as the request of child to parents is built on that loving relationship. It does not matter if the child is naughty, as long as the relationship is one of love; so we do not need to be perfect to make our requests to our Father.

Question: When and how do you find it best to pray?

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The Sunday Word: A Commentary on the Sunday Readings (Wansbrough, Henry)

Saturday of the Twenty-Eighth Week of Ordinary Time

Lectio

   Luke 12:8–12

Meditatio

“For the Holy Spirit will teach you at that moment what you should say.”

As we near the end of the liturgical year, the readings of the liturgy become more serious, even foreboding. Most of us will probably never be brought before rulers or authorities in the way the Gospel describes. But if we think about it, our Christian convictions are on trial every day of our lives. Small personal struggles, known only to ourselves, test our love and keep us praying for the promised grace and strength of the Holy Spirit.

   Besides that, we are asked to take part in the battles of our own day, to proclaim the truth of the Gospel even in the face of what society considers “politically correct.” Judeo-Christian values are constantly challenged; unjust laws exist in our own nation. We must allow ourselves to be the voice of the living word. Sometimes we may be called to actually use our physical voice, but even if our words are ignored, our example is a silent word. As the proverb says, “Actions speak louder than words.”

   Crucial life and death struggles are going on all over the globe. They may take place far away, but they are still very real. The Church still has martyrs who are undergoing persecution in many countries. The odds seem stacked against us, but we must heed the living word in today’s Gospel. Every age has its own struggles, but God always defends us if we let the Holy Spirit lead us. We look beyond the visible scene with the eyes of faith, for we know that the war has already been won on Calvary. Confidence in our Lord’s love is the key to true wisdom. The victory will always be Jesus Christ’s.

Oratio

   O Lord, be my light in the darkness of this world. Guide my steps with your word and fill my mind with your truth. Enlarge my heart with your love and grant me the courage to witness to you in every situation. Use me to bring your love to others. I accept that I may not always understand how you are using me, but I trust that one day, in this life or the next, you will reveal it to me. I only know that by simply living my daily life according to your word, you will use me. Keep my eyes fixed on you. Increase my faith. From eternity to eternity, you are God.

Contemplatio

   I am yours, Lord. May my life speak of you.

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ORDINARY GRACE Weeks 18–34: Daily Gospel Reflections (By the Daughters of St. Paul)

Friday of the Twenty-Eighth Week of Ordinary Time

Lectio

   Luke 12:1–7

Meditatio

“… whatever you have said in the darkness will be heard in the light.…”

   So often in the Gospels, Jesus points out the hypocrisy of some of the religious leaders. In fact, sometimes we can become so used to it that we become deaf to the concern Jesus has for us. Let’s take the word “hypocrisy” and translate it into a term often used today: “transparency.” Companies and parishes must have financial transparency. Leaders have to be transparent and put into full view their motivations and the information that has led to their decisions. We want our elected officials to be transparent. Transparency as honesty is valued as a virtue in children, and also in adults.

   Those who demand the most transparency in others are often the least transparent about their own activities and decisions. Their demand for transparency may just be a politically correct term for expressing their feelings of being marginalized and not included. Or perhaps they are rebellious against authority. Such persons act hypocritically, demanding transparency of others but refusing to be honest themselves.

   Yet other people are honest and transparent. How do we reverence transparency in others when they make themselves vulnerable by revealing motivations, desires, weaknesses, dreams, or decisions? Their transparency must be respected by those who are entrusted with valuable and sensitive information. This takes maturity, which sometimes others lack. Then the person being open and honest may be betrayed and hurt because others cannot be transparent themselves. In situations like this, some of Jesus’ sayings can bring comfort to us: “There is nothing concealed that will not be revealed … do not be afraid of those who kill the body.… Even the hairs of your head have all been counted. Do not be afraid. You are worth more than many sparrows.”

Oratio

   Jesus, so many misunderstandings have made my life complex. But you know the truth. You know I’ve tried. You know my weaknesses, and you are here in the mess. You are making me holy in the pain of betrayal. I hear you repeat over and over, “Do not be afraid.” I open my heart completely to your gaze, and hide nothing from you. Amen.

Contemplatio

   Light in the darkness, shine in my soul.

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ORDINARY GRACE Weeks 18–34: Daily Gospel Reflections (By the Daughters of St. Paul)

Thursday of the Twenty-Eighth Week of Ordinary Time

Lectio

   Luke 11:47–54

Meditatio

“… the key of knowledge.…”

   Today’s Gospel focuses on the woes that Jesus pronounces against the scribes and Pharisees. In reading this text, we realize that he is acting in the biblical tradition of prophetic denunciation of evil. Jesus’ intent is not to condemn all the people of Israel, not even all the Pharisees. His intent is to highlight an error in order to draw people away from it. He’s acting like a doctor who has to administer some painful remedy to cure the patient.

   Jesus speaks of how the prophets were killed when they announced God’s word. He then says, “You have taken away the key of knowledge.” In this context, knowledge seems to refer to access to the kingdom of God. “You yourselves did not enter and you stopped those trying to enter.” In the Bible, the symbol of keys indicates authority. Jesus is saying that the religious leaders blocked people from entering the kingdom instead of helping them to get in. It’s like a teacher who, instead of helping students prepare to pass an important exam, deliberately tries to make them fail.

   The prophets were rejected and killed by people who didn’t want to hear their sometimes harsh messages. The key of knowledge is humility of heart, the ability to accept a truthful message even when it’s hard to hear. Resistance to truth, as well as its acceptance, come more from our heart than our mind. That is why God sent John the Baptist to prepare the way for Christ. Unlike the religious professionals, John came on the scene with no credentials except the intensity of his love. He pointed to Jesus, not himself, saying, “He must increase; I must decrease” (Jn 3:30). John, the voice in the wilderness, preached a baptism of repentance to prepare people to accept Jesus. John gave the key of knowledge to those who would accept it. Today, the world is filled with many conflicting voices. But the voice of Jesus teaching through the Church is loud and clear. Which voice am I going to listen to?

Oratio

   Jesus, you give us the key of knowledge, the key to entering the kingdom of heaven. Help me to have true humility of heart, so that I may listen attentively to your teaching and accept it fully.

Contemplatio

   Lord, I want to listen to your voice.

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ORDINARY GRACE Weeks 18–34: Daily Gospel Reflections (By the Daughters of St. Paul)

Wednesday of the Twenty-Eighth Week of Ordinary Time

Lectio

   Luke 11:42–46

Meditatio

"These you should have done, without overlooking the others."

   Sometimes I get so caught up in details that I miss the big picture. This can be helpful when I need to focus. But it can also be a problem if I'm so focused that I miss the opportunities to serve others that God shows me right now. Jesus is talking about this with the Pharisees and scholars of the Law. In this instance they are following the law of paying certain tithes, but are not giving attention to the greatest commandment of all, love for God.

   In building a house, the interior design is important, but the foundation and walls have to be put up first! If the foundation is not solid, then the rest of the house cannot stand. Jesus acknowledges that tithes should be paid, but we can't overlook the most important laws: love of God and neighbor. Sometimes the good that we choose to do can be self-serving and lead us to rely on ourselves. Jesus offers us the joy and strength to follow his way of surrender to the Father in self-giving love. It is a matter of tuning in to the heart of God and trying to live and love with God's heart.

   Our day is full of moments in which we need to discern our priorities. What should I give my attention to now? Am I cramming too many events, meetings, and projects into my schedule? Am I losing sight of the big picture? Discernment helps us look at our daily tasks with a desire to truly do what God desires. I can get into a routine of doing a lot of good and productive things, but then lose sight of God's call in my life to be a servant and lover of humanity. When I lose sight of what God is calling me to, I can end up following my own way, doing the things that seem most important, without truly seeing what is important to God. But, through daily prayer, I can stay in tune with God and the needs of the world around me.

Oratio

   Jesus, thank you for reminding me of the greatest commandments of all—love for God and neighbor. In the midst of my busy day, help me to continuously notice your movements in me and your call to be a servant. Help me to notice the needs of those around me throughout the day and to respond with a great and selfless love. Thank you for your love for me and for calling me to love.

Contemplatio

   Here I am, O Lord. I come to do your will (see Heb 10:7).

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ORDINARY GRACE Weeks 18–34: Daily Gospel Reflections (By the Daughters of St. Paul)

Tuesday of the Twenty-Eighth Week of Ordinary Time

Lectio

   Luke 11:37–41

Meditatio

“Give alms, and … everything will be clean for you.”

   Even though the evangelists don’t mention it, Jesus and the Pharisees must have had some common ground. For example, they often invited him to dinner. At one such dinner, Jesus praised a woman who kissed his feet and anointed them with oil. His host had neglected the customary signs of welcome.

In today’s passage, too, a minor confrontation develops, and Jesus states that inner purity is more important than outward cleanliness. Luke adds a phrase that the other evangelists don’t use: Jesus’ host will be cleansed inwardly if he gives alms.

   Almsgiving is important in the Jewish and Christian religions. The Book of Sirach states that almsgiving is a sacrifice of praise (see 35:2). Matthew quotes Jesus as saying, “And whoever gives only a cup of cold water … will surely not lose his reward” (10:42). Saint Paul took up a collection from the mainly Gentile churches to aid the poor Hebrew Christians in Jerusalem.

Contributing to a worthy cause helps us feel good. We’re participating in an effort larger than ourselves. Often the small gifts of many people are the only way a project can be realized. We can make a difference!

   For most people in our culture, making monetary contributions is part of life. So when we consider growth in almsgiving, it may be more helpful to reflect on some of its other forms—the sharing of time and talent, the offering of prayers and sacrifices. We can ask ourselves whether we can do more without neglecting our primary responsibilities. For some, the answer will be yes.

What’s your response?

Oratio

   Jesus, you became poor for our sakes, so that we might become rich. Teach me how to be poor in spirit and a cheerful giver. Guide me as I reflect on the various forms of giving. Inspire me to choose those ways of contributing to the works of the Church and/or helping my sisters and brothers that are best suited to my possibilities. Inspire me to offer what I can and when I can. If my giving ought to remain focused on my own household or community, please help me to understand that and act accordingly.

Contemplatio

   “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35).

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ORDINARY GRACE Weeks 18–34: Daily Gospel Reflections (By the Daughters of St. Paul)

Monday of the Twenty-Eighth Week of Ordinary Time

Lectio

   Luke 11:29–32

Meditatio

“… no sign will be given it, except the sign of Jonah.”

   As I read the Gospel of Luke, I see that in this section Jesus is speaking to various groups of people. In fact, “still more people” are gathering to hear him, so I join the crowd and listen to what he has to say. It seems that this crowd seeks signs too, just like the people where I come from. Besides that, Jesus is saying that the pagan city of Nineveh was more receptive to God’s prophet than this generation is now. Even more, “there is something greater than Jonah here.” Jonah walked through Nineveh and preached repentance. He who is “greater than Jonah” lived, preached, died, and rose from the dead. Am I listening? The conversion of pagan Nineveh is one reality. The victory won for us in God’s Son is quite another. A whole new reality has dawned upon the world in Christ.

   God has sent his Son, and this marks the beginning of a new age that cannot be conquered, dimmed, or dismissed. It’s a new reality with a capital R. God is the measure of everything. All of us have our origin in him. All of us will return to him, to render an account of our lives. In this new era, however, we need not go alone. We have the Beloved Son with us. We are to be marked by his sign: his passion, death, and resurrection. That is how the Father will recognize Christ in us. We are to be a people who, in a very real way, are his own, a people of hope. We follow one “greater than Jonah”; one who walked through death into life. We are to be a people of hope because we know that earthly life, goods, and signs are not the final end. More, much more, awaits us. The “much more” is the sign of Jonah given today. We are Christ’s body, to be his hands and feet today, offering hope to each person and circumstance we encounter.

Oratio

   Father, in giving us Christ, you have given us everything. Saint Paul tells us that in your Son every “spiritual blessing” is ours. Help me understand the depth of what you have done for all generations in giving us your Son. I seek so many things, chasing after bubbles, but in Christ I have more than enough. Thank you for giving us your Beloved Son, teaching us all we need for real fulfillment through him. Thank you for Jesus, who is “greater than Jonah” and calls me to be a sign with him.

Contemplatio

   Make me a sign of life and hope to those with whom I work today.

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ORDINARY GRACE Weeks 18–34: Daily Gospel Reflections (By the Daughters of St. Paul)

Twenty-eighth Sunday

First reading: Naaman the Syrian (2 Kings 5:14–17)

This little excerpt is the stub end of one of the most delightful stories in the Bible (read it!). It pairs with the gospel reading. In his opening proclamation in the synagogue at Nazareth, Jesus declares that he has come to save the gentiles too, just as Elisha did, citing Naaman as an example. Today we read just the cure itself. The odd bit about ‘two mule-loads of earth’ is the result of the belief, still persistent at that time, that the God of Israel could be worshipped only on the soil of Israel—so take some soil with you! Naaman wants to express his gratitude at home, too. At that time the Lord was accepted as God of Israel, the Sovereign and Protector of Israel, but this implied nothing about other nations. It was not until the Babylonian Exile, when Israel was confronted the multiple gods of Babylon, that Israel advanced a step and saw that the Lord was the God of the whole earth, the whole universe, and that all the other deities, such as sun and moon and stars, were simply timing devices plugged into the vault of heaven by the Lord himself. God reveals himself to Israel, and to us, gradually.

Question: How has your faith deepened or developed in the last years?

Second reading: The Grounds for Hope (2 Timothy 2:8–13)

if Paul is chained as a criminal, at least he gives the ground for his hope and his security: ‘The saying is sure.’ The kernel of the Good News is the Resurrection, and that is enough. If Christ is risen from the dead, no more is required; this in itself is the fulfilment of the promises to David. Paul then quotes a little symmetrical hymn that was no doubt sung by the early Christian congregations. The earliest external evidence to the Christian liturgy is a letter from Pliny, governor of a province in what is now northern Turkey, in the early second century, only a few decades after Second Timothy. He has examined Christians under torture and sends his findings to the Emperor: they meet on a set day (presumably Sunday), make oaths of loyalty to one other, sing a hymn ‘to Christ as to a God’, and then have a meal (presumably the Eucharist). The last lines of this reading could be part of just such a hymn, under the pressures of persecution, celebrating the union of Christ with his followers, and Christ’s fidelity to his own people, whatever they do to him.

Reflection: If we are faithless, he remains faithful.

Gospel: The Samaritan Leper (Luke 17:11–19)

Now we see why the story of the cure of Naaman the leper formed the first reading: in the gospel reading, we find another cure of a foreigner, and not an ordinary foreigner, but a hated foreigner. There was a cordial hatred between Jews and Samaritans—a wretched hybrid race, who accepted only part of the Jewish Bible, and had their own ideas about the coming Messiah. Yet we have already had the story of the Good Samaritan, who succours the wounded traveller, neglected by Jewish priest and Levite. Now only a Samaritan comes back to thank Jesus for the cure from leprosy. Samaritans are the foreigners geographically nearest to Jesus, but hated by the Jews. If the Samaritans can set an example to the Jews, so can many other foreigners. In his initial proclamation, Jesus promises salvation to the gentiles, and Luke misses no opportunity to show us gentiles ripe for salvation, the centurion of Capernaum who built the synagogue and whose son is cured, the guests for the banquet, called in from highways and byways. He is preparing for the second volume, the Acts of the Apostles, where the Good News will spread to the ends of the earth, to Rome itself.

Question: Is any race superior to any other? Why or why not?

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The Sunday Word: A Commentary on the Sunday Readings (Wansbrough, Henry)

Twenty-Eighth Sunday of Ordinary Time—Year C

Lectio

   Luke 17:11–19

Meditatio

“… realizing he had been healed, returned, glorifying God in a loud voice.…”

   In Jesus’ day, having leprosy, a highly contagious disease of the skin, meant virtual exile. Separated from family, shunned by the community, the leper could hope to be reintegrated with society and his or her family only by being healed. So when these ten lepers spot Jesus from a distance, they all call out to him, begging for his merciful and miraculous healing. Jesus complies, healing them physically and restoring them to their families and communities.

   Sin does in an inward way what leprosy does externally. The effects of sin touch not only the person who commits the sin, but also everyone in the community. This raises a barrier separating the sinner from the community. An act of selfishness on our part begets other sins. My sin toward one person can affect how that person will react later. In other words, my sin doesn’t harm only me. It harms the whole community, almost like invisible tentacles clutching at others’ hearts.

   In the Gospel account, Jesus heals all ten victims of leprosy. I am sure that all of them are happy to be healed, but only one returns to give thanks. He recognizes Jesus as the source of his healing and restoration. The Gospel text even suggests that the man approaches Jesus shouting his joyful praise to God. God offers us the same healing and restoration through the sacrament of Reconciliation. In it God tells us, “I forgive you and I want to heal you. Please don’t separate yourself from me—I love you.” The words of absolution are words of restoration and love. As someone reminded me recently, God is not waiting for me so that he can wag his finger at me in disappointment. Whether we receive the sacrament or simply examine our conscience, God opens his arms wide to embrace us and bring us back to communion and community.

Oratio

   With what joy, Lord, I should run to a reconciliatory encounter with you as your pure love washes over me. Afterward I fall to my knees in total, unashamed gratitude for the love you pour out. I pray today for the grace to turn to you in sincerity with all that I have done, both the good and the not so good. May I give them all to you, so as to praise you for the good and receive your forgiveness for what is not so good. Help me to avoid the sins I am most prone to commit again—I want to be wholly yours today and always.

Contemplatio

   “In the shadow of your wings I shout for joy” (Ps 63:8).

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ORDINARY GRACE Weeks 18–34: Daily Gospel Reflections (By the Daughters of St. Paul)

SS. Denis, Bishop and Martyr, and His Companions, Martyrs

St. Denis is today regarded as the patron of France and is said to have been the first bishop of Paris. Whatever is known of his life is had from what St. Gregory of Tours (538–93) wrote in his History of the Franks. About 250, Denis and six other bishops were sent by Pope Fabian (see January 20) as missionaries to evangelize Gaul (modern France). Denis established himself in the area now known as Paris. Because of his success in making converts to Christianity, Denis and his companions—Rusticus, a priest, and Eleutherius, a deacon—were arrested, imprisoned for a time, and finally beheaded. Their martyrdom took place in 258 on the outskirts of modern Paris, now known as Montmartre (Mountain of Martyrs), during the persecution of Valerian (emperor 253–59). In 475 or thereabouts, St. Genevieve built a basilica over St. Denis’s tomb, and later (624) the Abbey of St. Denis was founded next to the basilica. St. Denis’s relics were transferred to the abbey on October 9. Legend has it that after his martyrdom he picked up his head and walked with it for two miles, indicating where he wanted to be buried.

Saturday of the Twenty-Seventh Week of Ordinary Time

Lectio
   Luke 11:27–28

Meditatio

“Rather, blessed are those who hear the word of God and observe it.”

   It is telling that Jesus redirects the compliments of the woman in the crowd who cries out, “Blessed is the womb that carried you and the breasts at which you nursed.” These are very particular blessings of the Mother of God, while also being an indirect compliment to Jesus himself. But the blessing is exclusive, and may give us the impression that we cannot share in the blessedness of Mary and Jesus. That is not the Good News Jesus came to bring. As the Way that leads us to the Father, Jesus desires to bless all God’s people, leading everyone who will follow him into this state of “blessedness.” Ultimately, Jesus did not come for the privilege of a few, but for the salvation of many.

   Keeping this reality in mind, we can see that Jesus’ exchange with the woman in the crowd reveals the deepest source of Mary’s blessedness. At the Annunciation, Mary heard the word of the Lord and responded immediately, with complete surrender. Her whole life is one of faith in action. Each of us shares with Mary this opportunity to become blessed through our own response of faith.

   With Mary as model and guide, Jesus invites us to hear the word of God and observe it. We are invited to the obedience of the sons and daughters of God. The word “obedience” comes from the Latin root, oboedire, which means “to listen.” We cannot obey if, through silent contemplation of Christ’s words and actions, we have not first taken the time to hear and understand what is being asked. But even this is not enough. We must also allow that word to confront our lives, with a willingness to make concrete changes based on the invitations we receive. This kind of change takes real courage and perseverance—it requires a ready and willing heart.

Oratio

   Mary, our Mother, in your earthly life, you were a woman of profound listening. You pondered in your heart all the words and actions of your Son and allowed their mystery to permeate your being. Through your obedience to his word, you became an instrument of divine grace for the world. Teach me, your child, how to listen to your Son and respond to his word in my life. Obtain for me the grace of an obedient heart that receives the word of God with a deep readiness to go wherever it will lead, and a true willingness to make any changes it may require.

Contemplatio

   Let it be done to me according to your Word.

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ORDINARY GRACE Weeks 18–34: Daily Gospel Reflections (By the Daughters of St. Paul)

St. Bruno, Priest

St. Bruno was born in Cologne in about 1030. His early studies were in his native city, and later he attended the cathedral school in Reims. Subsequently, he became a cathedral canon there and then the schoolmaster (1056). He was appointed chancellor of the Reims Diocese in 1075. When Bishop Manassès was deposed—his election was simoniacal—by Pope Gregory VII (see May 25) in 1080, the Reims see was offered to Bruno, but he declined because he was then thinking of retiring from the world. He did so about 1082 and lived a life of prayer and penance. He and two companions had a hermitage near Molesmes, where they placed themselves under the spiritual direction of St. Robert, founder of the Cistercians. Seeking still greater solitude, he and six companions went in 1084 to Grenoble in southern France, where Bruno’s former pupil Hugh was bishop, and there in the valley of La Chartreuse he laid the foundation of what eventually became the Carthusian Order. In 1090, Pope Urban II, who had also been one of Bruno’s students at Reims, called him to Rome to be his adviser. When the papal court moved to southern Italy, brought on by the activity of the partisans of Antipope Clement III (1080–1100), Bruno went along and later (about 1092), with the pope’s permission, he retired into the wilderness of Calabria and there established another monastery. He died at his monastery in La Torre, near Catanzaro, Calabria, on October 6, 1101. In 1514, Pope Leo X granted permission to the Carthusians to celebrate a feast in honor of their founder, and in 1623 his feast was extended to the universal Church. The prayer of the Mass for today recalls the fact that St. Bruno chose to serve God in solitude.

St. Placid, Martyr

ST. PLACID was born in Rome, in the year 515, of a patrician family, and at seven years of age was taken by his father to the monastery of Subiaco. At thirteen years of age he followed St. Bernard to the new foundation at Monte Cassino, where he grew up in the practice of a wonderful austerity and innocence of life. He had scarcely completed his twenty-first year when he was selected to establish a monastery in Sicily upon some estates which had been given by his father to St. Benedict. He spent four years in building his monastery, and the fifth had not elapsed before an inroad of barbarians burned every thing to the ground, and put to a lingering death not only St. Placid and thirty monks who had joined him, but also his two brothers, Eutychius and Victorinus, and his holy sister Flavia, who had come to visit him. The monastery was rebuilt, and still stands under his invocation.

Reflection.—Adversity is the touchstone of the soul, because it discovers the character of the virtue which it possesses. One act of thanksgiving when matters go wrong with us is worth a thousand thanks when things are agreeable to our inclinations.

St. Francis of Assisi, Religious

St. Francis was born in Assisi, Umbria, Italy, in 1182, and was baptized John. His father was Pietro di Bernardone, a wealthy textile merchant, and after returning from a business trip to France, and to mark his esteem for that country, he began calling his son Francis. Francis’s youth was spent in comfort and fine clothes. During Assisi’s war with Perugia, Francis joined his city’s forces. But when Assisi was defeated, Francis was unfortunately taken prisoner and remained such for a year. After his release, he volunteered to fight with the papal army in southern Italy, but while passing through Spoleto, on his way south, he had a dream in which a voice told him “to follow the master and not the man.” Thus he returned to Assisi and began to change his way of life. Then in the fall of 1205, while praying in the Church of San Damiano, a short distance from Assisi, he heard a voice coming from the crucifix telling him: “Francis, go and repair my church, which as you see is in ruins.” To purchase the materials needed to repair that church’s fabric, he sold some of his father’s cloth. Because his father did not agree with his son’s action, Francis left home and spent the following two years praying, repairing churches, and visiting the poor and sick.

Sometime in 1208 or 1209, he heard a passage from Matthew’s Gospel (10:5–14) read in church, in which our Lord sent his apostles out to preach and they were to take nothing with them. In imitation of this, Francis lived a life of simplicity, poverty, and humility, and constantly went about preaching God’s love. His joy in following Christ was so evident and attractive that others soon joined him, and thus he wrote a rule for them, with the gospel as their way of life. He called his group Friars Minor, but they are better known as Franciscans. In 1212, he founded an order of nuns, known today as Poor Clares, after St. Clare of Assisi (see August 11). Others also wanted to follow his manner of life—prayer and penance—and for these he established what is known as the Third Order of St. Francis.

In 1219, Francis traveled to the Middle East with the Fifth Crusade, in a vain attempt to convert Sultan Malik al-Kamil of Egypt. Then, on September 14, 1224, he received the stigmata on Mount Alvernia; he is the first individual known to have received it. Throughout his life, Francis remained a deacon—he felt himself unworthy to be ordained a priest. He died at the Portiuncula (St. Mary of the Angels), the cradle of his order, in Assisi, on October 3, 1226, and was canonized two years later (1228) by Pope Gregory IX. Francis was the most extraordinary saint of the Middle Ages and is one of the most attractive of saints. Today’s opening prayer tells us that St. Francis reflected the image of Christ, through his life of poverty and humility, and asks that we too may imitate his joyful love.

St. Francis Borgia, Priest

St. Francis Borgia, the oldest son of the third Duke of Gandía, was born in the family’s palace in Gandía, Spain, on October 28, 1510. His great grandfather on his father’s side was Pope Alexander VI (1492–1503), and his great grandfather on his mother’s side was King Ferdinand the Catholic (reigned 1469–1516). Francis was educated as befitted a Spanish nobleman. While at the royal court of his cousin, Emperor Charles V (reigned 1519–58), he married (1529) Leonor de Castro of Portugal, and then in 1530 the emperor made him Marquis of Llombai and placed him in charge of the imperial household. When Empress Isabella unexpectedly died on May 1, 1539, Francis escorted the body to Granada, but when the coffin was opened for official recognition before burial, Francis no longer saw the face of a youthful queen but of one beyond recognition. He is said to have exclaimed: “Never again will I serve a master who can die on me,” and from that day onward he lived an austere life.

When Francis’s father died (January 8, 1543), Francis succeeded him as the fourth Duke of Gandía, and when his wife died in 1546, he decided to become a Jesuit. He was accepted into the Society of Jesus by St. Ignatius of Loyola (see July 31), but the fact was kept secret until he settled his temporal affairs and arranged marriages for his eight children. He resigned his title in favor of his eldest son, was ordained (1551) a priest, and worked as a Jesuit in Spain and in Portugal. In 1565, he was elected the third superior general of the Society of Jesus, and seven years later died in Rome on September 30, 1572. He was canonized by Pope Clement X in 1671. The opening prayer of today’s Mass gives a brief summary of St. Francis Borgia’s life, when it asks: Grant through his prayers that all who have died to sin and renounced the world may live for you alone.

Guardian Angels

It is the teaching of the Church and theologians, and in accordance with what we read in the Old and New Testaments, that the angels, who are divine messengers, exercise a particular care and protection over individuals on earth, and help them in attaining salvation. In Exodus (20:20), the Lord God told Moses, “I am sending an angel before you, to guard you on the way and bring you to the place I have prepared,” and after the angel had liberated St. Peter from prison, the latter remarked, “Now I know for certain that the Lord has sent his angel to rescue me from Herod’s clutches” (Acts 12:11). The common teaching of theologians is that every human being, not merely the baptized, has a special guardian angel from birth, and this they derive from Christ’s words: “Do not despise one of these little ones, for I say to you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father, who is in Heaven” (Matt. 18:10.) Referring to the same text, St. Basil (see January 2) writes: “Every one of the faithful has an angel standing at his side as educator, and guide, directing his life” (Against Eunomius III, 1). Devotion to the angels began with St. Benedict (see July 11) and then steadily increased from the time of St. Gregory the Great (see September 3) to St. Bernard of Clairvaux (see August 20), who was perhaps the most eloquent exponent of devotion to the Guardian Angels. The final prayer in today’s Mass speaks of the angels keeping us free from danger in this life and bringing us to the joy of eternal life. A feast in honor of the Guardian Angels was celebrated in Valencia, Spain, as early as 1411; it then spread through Spain and into France. Pope Paul V introduced it into the Roman Calendar in 1608, and Pope Clement X later (1670) set its celebration for October 2.

St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus, Virgin and Doctor of the Church

St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus, commonly known as “the Little Flower,” was born Marie Françoise Thérèse Martin in Alençon, France, on January 2, 1873. After her two older sisters, Pauline and Marie, had entered the cloistered Discalced Carmelite convent at Lisieux, where the family had moved in 1881, she also applied to enter, but because she was only fourteen years of age, her entrance had to be delayed. In the meantime, she visited Rome with her father and on that occasion she met Pope Leo XIII (1878–1903). When she told the pope of her desire to enter Carmel—hoping he would intervene in her behalf—all she received was a noncommittal “You shall enter if it be God’s will.” She was finally accepted in April 1888, when she was fifteen. She spent a total of nine and a half years in the convent; her life was one of humility, simplicity, and trust in God. In 1893, she was appointed mistress of novices and filled that office for four years. She contracted tuberculosis—its first signs began to appear in Holy Week 1896—about eighteen months before her death, which occurred on September 30, 1897. Shortly before her death, she wrote her autobiography, commonly known as Story of a Soul, written at the request of her superior. In it, she tells others of her “Little Way” of approaching God. Her Little Way has nothing extraordinary about it; it is merely fidelity in the observance of the rule and in the performance of one’s duties. Without going beyond the common order of things, Thérèse achieved sanctity. She was canonized by Pope Pius XI in 1925, and in 1997 Pope John Paul II declared her a doctor of the Church. The opening prayer of today’s Mass also refers to “the way” of St. Thérèse.

Thursday of the Twenty-Fourth Week of Ordinary Time

Lectio

   Luke 7:36–50

Meditatio

“Do you see this woman?”

   Simon the Pharisee bears a striking resemblance to another man in Luke’s Gospel: the Pharisee in the parable who found himself in the Temple with a tax collector. Like the unnamed Pharisee, Simon assumes he knows the other person’s relationship with God. Jesus, as usual, responds to the occasion with a parable, this time about two debtors. If the woman, because she is forgiven much, shows great love, Simon needs forgiveness for his “lesser” debt, too.

   Simon may not have had any big-ticket items on his debit sheet with God, but as Jesus lists his omissions, one by one, it all seems to add up to a kind of contempt—or at the very least, indifference toward Jesus. Even the fact of the lesser debt is a sign of equal, if not greater, weakness on his part: it is one thing to be incapable of repaying an enormous sum—but to need to have a paltry debt written off? Simon just doesn’t have eyes to see how much God in his mercy has forgiven him. He can’t take his eyes off the woman at Jesus’ feet.

   Neither can Jesus. At the end of his life, when Jesus himself wants to make a striking statement about the reverence, love, and humility his disciples owe one another, he will do for his disciples something very much like what this woman did for him. He knows the image will stay with the disciples.

Oratio

   Jesus, why did Simon even invite you to dinner? You came to his house, but he did not say, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter” (see Lk 7:6). Maybe he was so busy monitoring his fulfillment of all the precepts of the Law that he didn’t have any interior space left to attend to you, much less become aware of what was still lacking. Omissions aren’t addressed because we notice them; they come about because our attention is misdirected! Help me keep my gaze on you, and to begin to see as you see: not omissions as such, but the glory of God in all things.

Contemplatio

   “I keep the Lord ever before me” (Ps 16:8).

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ORDINARY GRACE Weeks 18–34: Daily Gospel Reflections (By the Daughters of St. Paul)

Our Lady of Sorrows

The memory of the sorrows that our Lady endured standing at the foot of her Son’s cross is appropriately celebrated on the day following the feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. Devotion to Our Lady of Sorrows arose in the twelfth century, and in 1668 the Order of the Servants of Mary (Servites), who from their origin had a special devotion to Mary’s sorrows, were granted a liturgical feast to be celebrated on the third Sunday in September. Through the preaching of the Servites, the devotion to the Seven Sorrows of Our Lady spread in the Church, and the feast was then extended to the universal Church by Pope Pius VII in 1814 to recall the sufferings that the Church and her earthly head had undergone at the hands of Napoleon Bonaparte (the pope had been held prisoner by Napoleon from 1809 to 1814), and in thanksgiving to our Lady for her ever-watchful care and through whose intercession the sufferings of the Church had come to an end. Because of Mary’s sharing in her Son’s sufferings on the cross, as today’s opening prayer reminds us, she has also been given to us as our Mother, as today’s Gospel (John 19:25–27) narrates.

Exaltation of the Holy Cross

The basilica built by Constantine on the site where Christ had died and had risen from the dead was dedicated on September 13, 335. By the end of the fourth century, it had become customary that on September 14, the day following the anniversary of the basilica’s dedication, the relic of the wood of the true cross was exposed to the faithful for their veneration. This feast, known as the Exaltation of the Cross, quickly spread throughout the Eastern Church, and by the seventh century it was also celebrated in Rome. This feast is sometimes called The Triumph of the Cross, because by the cross Christ redeemed the world. This is the paradox: that the cross, the symbol of humiliation and of death, should become the efficacious sign of liberation and life. “Defeat” has become triumph. Our liturgy today begins with the antiphon exhorting us to glory in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, for he is our salvation, our life, and our resurrection.

Tuesday of the Twenty-Fourth Week of Ordinary Time

Lectio

   Luke 7:11–17

Meditatio

“Jesus gave him to his mother.”

   As is customary, the men of the village lead the way, followed by the stretcher bearing the body—the body of her son. She shuffles along behind the bier, head down and tears dripping into the dust of the road. Behind her walk the other women of Nain. The music of flutes and the wailing of professional mourners fills the air. It had all happened so suddenly. Of necessity the body has to be buried on the same day her son died. She can’t wrap her mind around it: the form on the stretcher, with the white cloth over his face, is her own dear boy, the only survivor of his siblings. He is also her sole support—her provider and protector. Or rather, he had been all this. The full import of what is happening washes over her, and she almost stumbles.

   She realizes that someone is walking beside her. “Don’t cry,” says a deep voice. She looks up, blinks back the tears, and meets the compassionate gaze of—who? The man touches the stretcher, and the bearers stop. Then the unbelievable happens. He tells her son to get up; the young man sits up straight. Someone removes the cloth from his face, and he begins to ask: “What’s happening? What am I doing on this …?” Meanwhile, the itinerant rabbi takes the mother by the arm and brings her to her son.

   Thinking about this, I realize that something hasn’t changed since that time. First-century Israel had its marginalized people, which included widows and orphans. Twenty-first century North America has its own marginalized people—a list too lengthy to enumerate. We might have opportunities to help some of these fellow human beings materially, but there’s something else we can always do. We can remember them in prayer.

Oratio

   God, my Father, today I ask you to especially bless these people whom I do not know but you know: the marginalized teenager in the nearest high school; the new immigrant family in town; the lonely widower in the most poorly run nursing home in our area; the neglected child in our school system; the needy, unwed mother in this county. Grant to these persons the grace and courage they need to deal with their situations. Inspire men and women to reach out to them in Christian compassion, bringing each of them the possibility of a brighter future. I ask this in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Contemplatio

   O God, visit your people again!

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ORDINARY GRACE Weeks 18–34: Daily Gospel Reflections (By the Daughters of St. Paul)

St. John Chrysostom, Bishop and Doctor of the Church

St. John Chrysostom was born in Antioch (now Antakya, Turkey), in about 349. His early education trained him in law and oratory. He was baptized when he was eighteen years of age, and he thought of becoming a monk. This dream, however, was not realized until 373, when he joined a group of hermits living in the mountains near Antioch. Seven years later, he returned to the city and began his studies for the priesthood. Shortly after his ordination in 386, he was assigned to preach. He became an outstanding preacher, and for twelve years he preached regularly to the people of Antioch. His homilies, which were commentaries on the Scriptures, were published, and it is because of these and his other writings that he was later declared a doctor of the Church. John was made Bishop of Constantinople (modern Istanbul) in 398, and he immediately instituted much-needed reforms in his diocese, opened hospitals, and saw that the poor were given the help they needed. His honesty and frankness in speaking out against the luxury of the imperial court and its laxity in morals earned him the hatred of the wealthy and influential, and thus he was forced into exile in June 404.

John spent three years at a frontier outpost in Armenia, but because he still had some influence in Constantinople by means of his letters, he was moved further away. On his way to his new place of exile, he was forced to walk the entire distance, over mountains, through rain, and under the burning sun. Finally, his health broke, and he died at Comana on the Black Sea on September 14, 407. From 438 on, a liturgical feast was celebrated in his honor, and ten years later his body was brought to Constantinople’s Church of the Apostles. By the sixth century, the name “Chrysostom,” a Greek word meaning “golden-tongued” that alludes to his eloquence, had been added to his Christian name. Then, in 1568, Pope Pius V (see April 30) declared him a doctor of the Church. The prayer in today’s Mass also speaks of his eloquence and heroic sufferings.

Monday of the Twenty-Fourth Week of Ordinary Time

Lectio

Luke 7:1–10

Meditatio

“… I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof … but say the word.…”

   The centurion in today’s Gospel is an interesting character. He is part of the Roman occupying force, but he built the local synagogue. The Jewish elders respect him. A cynic might say the centurion was merely good at small-town politics, but then we see that he even cares about a dying slave in his household. This centurion is on the road of responding to God’s invitation. Yet he is more than just an enigmatic figure in the Gospel narrative, for we repeat his words at every celebration of Mass: I am not worthy … but say the word.…

   Grace—God’s life active in this world and in our lives—is a gift. God always has the first move. He created us in his image and likeness. With no prior merit or action on our part (we didn’t even exist) we are born into this world, already in the image of the Son. For those of us who were baptized as infants, this truth is carried even further. We were brought into God’s family, the Church, through no effort or merit on our part. It is all a gift—pure gift. The first question is, will I open up the gift, treasure it, and put it to good use? Well, obviously that has happened to some extent or I wouldn’t be here actively reflecting on the Liturgy of the Word for today. So then the question for me is not so much will I respond to God’s first move; I’ve made a second move. The real question is: who gets the third move? Has my response to God’s gracious invitation taken on a life of its own to the point where God has a minor role to play in the whole enterprise? Or do I bear in mind that there is no question of earning God’s favor or being worthy of his grace?

Oratio

   Yes, I am actively engaged in an exchange of gift and response with you, Lord. You have literally given your life for me, and you continue to pour your life of grace into my heart. I am given to you in Baptism and I want to continue giving my life to you in my daily words and actions. But I am overwhelmed at your generosity in entering into such an uneven relationship, Lord. You are God—and I am only your creature. I am not worthy of you, but your word heals this rift between us.

Contemplatio

   God always has the first move.

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ORDINARY GRACE Weeks 18–34: Daily Gospel Reflections (By the Daughters of St. Paul)

St. Guy of Anderlecht

AS a child Guy had two loves, the Church and the poor. The love of prayer growing more and more, he left his poor home at Brussels to seek greater poverty and closer union with God. He arrived at Laeken, near Brussels, and there showed such devotion before our Lady’s shrine that the priest besought him to stay and serve the Church. Thenceforth, his great joy was to be always in the church, sweeping the floor and ceiling, polishing the altars, and cleansing the sacred vessels. By day he still found time and means to befriend the poor, so that his almsgiving became famous in all those parts. A merchant of Brussels, hearing of the generosity of this poor sacristan, came to Laeken, and offered him a share in his business. Guy could not bear to leave the church; but the offer seemed providential, and he at last closed with it. Their ship, however, was lost on the first voyage, and on returning to Laeken, Guy found his place filled. The rest of his life was one long penance for his inconstancy. About the year 1033, finding his end at hand, he returned to Anderlecht, in his own country. As he died, a light shone round him, and a voice was heard proclaiming his eternal reward.

Reflection.—Jesus was only nine months in the womb of Mary, three hours on the Cross, three days in the sepulchre, but He is always in the tabernacle. Does our reverence before Him bear witness to this most blessed truth?

Most Holy Name of Mary

“And the Virgin’s name was Mary” (Luke 1:27). It is thus that the evangelist identifies the maiden, whom the Archangel Gabriel invites to become the Mother of God’s only Son. The name “Mary” comes from “Maria,” which is Greek for the Hebrew “Miriam.” From reading the Old Testament, we know that Moses’s sister was named Miriam (Num. 26:59) and that it was she who led the Israelite women in song and dance after their people had crossed the Red Sea (Ex. 15:20–21). Various interpretations have been given to the name, but perhaps “beloved” is the most authentic. Because the Archangel Gabriel greeted Mary with the words “Blessed are you among women” (Luke 1:28), indeed she is the most “beloved” of all creatures, for she is the one whom God chose to be the Mother of his Son.

St. Bernard, in his second sermon (Missus est) in praise of the Virgin Mary, says: “Let us say something about this name.… In dangers, anguish, and doubt, call upon Mary. Let her name be always on your lips and in your heart. The better to obtain her help, imitate the example of her life. With her as your guide, you will never go astray; by invoking her, you will not lose heart; while she holds your hand, you will not fall; with her protecting you, you have nothing to fear; walking with you, you will not grow weary; enjoying her favor, you will reach your goal.” Thanks to Bernard’s sermons, devotion to the Holy Name of Mary spread through Europe, so that in 1523 the Diocese of Cuenca, Spain, was the first to be granted permission to celebrate this feast. Then Pope Innocent XI (1676–89), because of a remarkable Christian victory, extended it in 1683 to the universal Church.

For two months in 1683, Turkish troops, approximately 300,000 in number, surrounded Vienna. Because their presence was a threat to all Europe, Europe’s princes came to Vienna’s assistance. King John III Sobieski of Poland (reigned 1674–96) left Poland with an army of 25,000 on August 15 and marched toward Vienna. On arriving, he gathered the several small armies into one and took command—he only had 80,000 men. On the morning of September 12, a day within the octave of Mary’s Nativity, he attended Mass, received Holy Communion, and when Mass was over he addressed his officers saying: “Let us march with confidence under the protection of Heaven and with the aid of the Most Holy Virgin.” That day, the battle was bitter, but because the Turks were caught between crossfire, they were forced to retreat. Europe and Vienna were saved. The Christian army and world were convinced that this decisive victory was not due to military strategy but to the intercession of Mary, whose name King John had invoked before battle. The feast of the Most Holy Name of Mary was originally observed on the Sunday following Mary’s Nativity, but Pius X (1903–14) changed the date to September 12, the anniversary of Vienna’s liberation.

Twenty-Fourth Sunday of Ordinary Time—Year C

Lectio

   Luke 15:1–32

Meditatio

“Rejoice with me because I have found my lost sheep.”

   Today’s liturgy sets before us three parables that center on God’s mercy and love. This love is an incredible, almost ridiculous love that knows no bounds, welcoming all in its embrace. Jesus tells the story of the Good Shepherd. A group of tax collectors and sinners gathers eagerly around Jesus, hanging on his every word. With his keen eye, Jesus does not direct his parable to this interested, attentive group. Instead he speaks to a group of self-righteous bystanders. Some Pharisees are standing on the side, complaining that “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” Doesn’t he know who these people are? Perhaps by directing his message to them—and to us—Jesus wants to show how outrageous is his love, a love that welcomes sinners in its embrace.

   “What man among you having a hundred sheep and losing one of them,” he asks them, “would not leave the ninety-nine in the desert and go after the lost one until he finds it?” This is crazy, utterly ridiculous! No sane person would leave ninety-nine strong, healthy sheep at risk in the desert in order to rescue one who is weak and fragile. Who would do such a thing? No one who has any sense. Would I? Would I risk all I have to save the small, insignificant, fragile one? Yet this is precisely the point. Jesus’ love does not make sense. It is a crazy, passionate, utterly ridiculous love. It is a love that risks all it has to save the one. It is a love that embraces everyone, even the sinner who stands condemned and alone. It is a love that embraces the undesirables, the persons whom I look down upon, those who in my judgment count for nothing. Am I ready to love in this way? Am I prepared to love to this extent?

Oratio

   Jesus, your love is a crazy love, one that is utterly ridiculous in the eyes of the world. It is a love that risks all in order to gain the one. Teach me to love in this way. Teach me to widen my horizons so my love can be crazy and ridiculous, like yours.

Contemplatio

   Jesus, live and love in me!

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ORDINARY GRACE Weeks 18–34: Daily Gospel Reflections (By the Daughters of St. Paul)

Twenty-fourth Sunday

First reading: Israel Rebels in the Desert (Exodus 32:7–11, 13–14)

We start off with a fine argument between the Lord and Moses. ‘Your people, whom you brought out of the land of Egypt’, says the Lord to Moses. ‘Your people, whom you brought out of the land of Egypt’, says Moses to the Lord. Like parents, each blames the other for a misbehaving child. As soon as Moses’ back was turned, Israel made itself an idol in the form of a golden calf—or rather a golden bull, called a ‘calf’ merely to be derisory—after the model of the local storm gods. The principal point is that, for all his blazing anger, the Lord cannot maintain his wrath against the people to whom he has promised an eternal inheritance. Once again, God changes his mind. His love of his people triumphs over his anger. In the next chapter, he passes before Moses and cries out the meaning of the name ‘the Lord’: a God of mercy and forgiveness, slow to anger, rich in faithful love and constancy, a meaning of the name that will echo down the pages of the scripture. The reading prepares us for the story of the Prodigal Son in the gospel.

Question: Is God always ready to forgive? Can anything stop it?

Second reading: Paul the Sinner (1 Timothy 1:12–17)

We read the two letters to Timothy over the next seven sundays, Many scholars hold that, in accordance with a contemporary convention, the letters to Timothy and Titus were not actually written by Paul, but by a faithful disciple, still inspired by Paul, who puts what Paul would have said in the particular circumstances. Paul is represented as directing his two principal co-operators in their organization of Church structures. These letters present a valuable picture of the problems of the Church, a generation or two after Paul, settling into an organizational pattern towards the end of the first century, and finding its way among the values of Hellenistic society. In the present reading, Paul’s open confession of his ferocious way of life before his conversion to Christianity, and the mercy he received from the Lord, pairs well with the record of divine mercy in the other two readings. The final little confession of faith in Christ as Saviour is one of the many declarations of Christological doctrine that give a special richness to these letters. Traditional formulations of doctrine are especially valued guidelines in these letters.

Question: Pray about an occasion when the grace of God drew you back from disaster.

Gospel: Forgiveness (Luke 15:1–32)

Today’s gospel gives us three particularly attractive Lukan stories of forgiveness. The first two form a typical Lukan pair. First comes the story of the lost sheep, which comes also in Matthew. Luke, however, puts all the accent on the joy in heaven at the return of the sinner. Then, to the story of the man looking for his sheep, Luke adds the story of a woman looking for her lost coin. He is always careful to show that women have an equal part in the Kingdom with men. So he deliberately pairs Zechariah and Mary, Simeon and Anna, Jairus’ daughter raised to life with the Widow of Naim’s son, and so on. The main story, however, is the Prodigal Son, told with all Luke’s love, artistry and delicacy of character study: the wastrel son who goes back home simply because he is hungry; the loving father perpetually on the lookout, running to meet the son, interrupting the carefully prepared speech and pampering the returned wastrel; the disgruntled stay at home who invents slanders about the other’s ‘loose women’ and is gently corrected by his father’s ‘your brother’. An unforgettable picture of the overflowing love and forgiveness of God.

Question: Is there anyone you have not yet forgiven?

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The Sunday Word: A Commentary on the Sunday Readings (Wansbrough, Henry)

St. Paphnutius, Bishop

THE holy confessor Paphnutius was an Egyptian, and after having spent several years in the desert, under the direction of the great St. Antony, was made bishop in Upper Thebais. He was one of those confessors who, under the tyrant Maximin Daia, lost their right eye, and were afterward sent to work in the mines. Peace being restored to the Church, Paphnutius returned to his flock. The Arian heresy being broached in Egypt, he was one of the most zealous in defending the Catholic faith, and for his eminent sanctity and the glorious title of confessor (or one who had confessed the faith before the persecutors and under torments) was highly considered in the great Council of Nice. Constantine the Great, during the celebration of that synod, sometimes conferred privately with him in his palace, and never dismissed him without kissing respectfully the place which had once held the eye he had lost for the faith. St. Paphnutius remained always in a close union with St. Athanasius, and accompanied him to the Council of Tyre, in 335, where they found much the greater part of that assembly to be professed Arians. Seeing Maximus, Bishop of Jerusalem, among them, Paphnutius took him by the hand, led him out, and told him he could not see that any who bore the same marks as he in defence of the faith should be seduced and imposed upon by persons who were resolved to oppress the most strenuous assertor of its fundamental article. We have no particular account of the death of St. Paphnutius; but his name stands in the Roman Martyrology on the 11th of September.

Reflection.—If to fight for our country be glorious, “it is likewise great glory to follow the Lord,” saith the Wise Man.

Saturday of the Twenty-Third Week of Ordinary Time

Lectio

   Luke 6:43–49

Meditatio

“Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ but not do what I command?”

   This question is as piercing today as it was two thousand years ago. With all our advances in science, technology, and psychology, human nature is still the same. We can still hear the truth, know what is good for us—and not do it. Jesus is questioning those who call him “Lord,” acknowledging his authority and even his divinity, but still don’t practice his teachings. At best, they hear the words but don’t reflect on their meaning or apply it to their own life situations. At worst, they think they know better and refuse to obey. Jesus seems to be chiding them, saying, “You call on me for help when things go wrong, but you don’t do what I tell you. Yet I show you how to avoid these troubles, how to be truly happy. I offer you life and you choose death instead. Do you believe I am Lord or not?” Jesus warns them that they are like a person who built a house without a foundation, and the floods came and totally destroyed it.

   The person who listens to the Word of God and acts on it, instead, is like a person who digs a foundation and builds a house on rock. It can withstand the floodwaters. Many temptations and storms will arise in our lives. Jesus is asking us to listen to his words and take them to heart, to meditate and pray over them, to make them our own and live them out. He is the Eternal Word of the Father. He wants to live in us. Opening ourselves to his word can make this happen. God is love, and when we open ourselves to him he pours his love into our hearts. Then we in turn can share his love with others; we can love with his heart. Jesus tells us, “Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him” (Jn 14:23).

Oratio

   Dear Lord, I thank you for the great gift of your holy Scriptures. Give me the grace to keep your word in my heart, to meditate on it and to live it in my daily life. Live and act in me. Don’t let me place any obstacles in your way. Strengthen me against temptation, against my weakness and fear. I know that with you I have strength for everything. I place all my trust in you.

Contemplatio

   “I love you, Lord, my strength, Lord, my rock, my fortress, my deliverer” (Ps. 18:2–3).

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ORDINARY GRACE Weeks 18–34: Daily Gospel Reflections (By the Daughters of St. Paul)

St. Nicholas of Tolentino

BORN in answer to the prayer of a holy mother, and vowed before his birth to the service of God, Nicholas never lost his baptismal innocence. His austerities were conspicuous even in the austere Order—the Hermits of St. Augustine—to which he belonged, and to the remonstrances which were made by his superiors, he only replied, “How can I be said to fast, while every morning at the altar I receive my God?” He conceived an ardent charity for the Holy Souls, so near and yet so far from their Saviour; and often after his Mass, it was revealed to him that the souls for whom he had offered the Holy Sacrifice had been admitted to the presence of God. Amidst his loving labors for God and man, he was haunted by fear of his own sinfulness. “The heavens,” said he, “are not pure in the sight of Him whom I serve; how then shall I, a sinful man, stand before Him?” As he pondered on these things, Mary, the Queen of all Saints, appeared before him. “Fear not, Nicholas,” she said, “all is well with you: my Son bears you in His Heart, and I am your protection.” Then his soul was at rest; and he heard, we are told, the songs which the angels sing in the presence of their Lord. He died September 10th, 1310.

Reflection.—Would you die the death of the just? there is only one way to secure the fulfilment of your wish. Live the life of the just. For it is impossible that one who has been faithful to God in life should make a bad or an unhappy end.

Bl. Francis Gárate, Religious

Bl. Francis Gárate was born on February 3, 1857, in Spain’s Basque country, in a tiny hamlet near the castle where St. Ignatius of Loyola (see July 31) was born. Francis left home when he was fourteen years of age (1871) and began working as a domestic at the Jesuit college in Orduña, and three years later he entered (1874) the Society of Jesus as a coadjutor brother. He was then appointed (1877) infirmarian at the college at La Guardia, near the Portuguese border—he had some 200 young boys under his care. He thought nothing of spending an entire night at the bedside of a sick student and then doing a full day’s work the following day. After ten years, the strain on his health began to show, and in 1888 he was transferred to the University of Deusto, in Bilbao, to be doorkeeper. He filled that post for forty-one years. There is nothing remarkable in Francis’s life, except that everyone took note of his limitless kindness, goodness, humility, and prayerfulness. He prayed while he worked, and he worked while he prayed. He became holy through his unfailing dedication in serving God, as today’s prayer reminds us. He was practically never without a rosary in his hand. He died on September 9, 1929, and was beatified by Pope John Paul II in 1985.

St. Peter Claver, Priest and Religious

St. Peter Claver, the future saint of the slave trade, was born at Verdú, Catalonia, Spain, probably on June 25, 1580, and he entered the Society of Jesus in 1602. After studies in Barcelona, he went (1605) to the College of Montesión in Palma de Mallorca to study philosophy, and there he met the aged brother, Alphonsus Rodríguez (see October 31), who encouraged him to be a missionary in the New World. In 1610, Peter sailed for the missions in South America and was ordained (1616) in Cartagena, Colombia—the first Jesuit to be ordained in that city. Cartagena was a prosperous city teeming with merchants; it was also a port of entry for slaves from Western Africa. It is estimated that during Fr. Claver’s years there, about 10,000 slaves passed through the port annually. The journey sometimes lasted months, and the slaves spent their days and nights chained to one another. Peter waited for the slave ships to arrive with their human cargo, and when they did, he and his interpreters, all carrying baskets of fruits, biscuits, and sweets, went aboard to greet the slaves. After comforting those on deck, Peter went down into the stench-filled holds to minister to the sick and dying. When the slaves were brought ashore, he visited them daily and gave them religious instruction, until they were sold and taken to other parts of South America. During his years working among the slaves, Peter said that he must have baptized 300,000 of them. After a lingering illness, he died in Cartagena on September 8, 1654. Pope Leo XIII canonized him in 1888, and in 1896 the same pontiff declared him special patron of missions to the black nations. In today’s prayer we ask, in imitation of St. Peter Claver, for the strength to overcome all racial hatred and to love one another as brothers and sisters.

Friday of the Twenty-Third Week of Ordinary Time

Lectio

   Luke 6:39–42

Meditatio

“… then you will see clearly …”

   I first encountered a blind person when I was eleven years old. He was an entertainer, and my brother and I were invited to meet him. When we were introduced, the blind man reached out and took my hand. To this day I wonder how he knew where my hand was.

   In today’s Gospel, Jesus uses images and short parables of blindness to warn his disciples, and us, against deliberate blindness of heart. The description of the two blind persons leading each other and ending up in a ditch would be funny if it wasn’t so pitiful. Jesus is warning his disciples and us not to get lost in little things to the point that we fail to see God acting in our daily lives and become spiritually blind, just like the two people in the parable.

   Jesus challenges the disciples to apply his teaching not only intellectually, but also with their hearts and wills. He challenges us as well. If we take time for prayer, reflective reading of the Scriptures, and a daily examination on our relationships, we discover how today’s lesson applies to our lives. Jesus develops his teaching almost as if he anticipates our reasoning. How much clearer could he be with us? “Remove the wooden beam from your eye first; then you will see clearly to remove the splinter in your brother’s eye.” First, we need to make sure we are on the right path, or at least admit we need to change directions before trying to set someone else straight. As followers of Jesus, we are called to be Christ in the world. Our Christian faith demands that we remove whatever blocks or blurs our vision of Jesus, because each of us is to be a light in a world of darkness. All we have to do is take the plank out of our own eye so we can see Jesus clearly and follow him.

Oratio

   Jesus, you challenge me to reflect on how I am living your word. Give me the courage to face those areas of my life that I am afraid to look at. I know you are with me so I won’t be walking alone. Remove the blindness that hinders me from seeing your action in my life. Lord, take away the planks that block me from receiving your love and mercy. May the light of your love shine in and through me. May I see with your eyes.

Contemplatio

   Jesus, I want to see you.

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ORDINARY GRACE Weeks 18–34: Daily Gospel Reflections (By the Daughters of St. Paul)