Saturday of the Nineteenth Week of Ordinary Time

Lectio

    Matthew 19:13–15

Meditatio

“Let the children come to me.…”

    A Catholic school in the San Francisco Bay Area has a lovely four-foot statue of a smiling Jesus, sitting down, blessing three children who surround him. Surprisingly, my niece won that statue at a fundraiser and, being seven years old at the time, could not decide what to do with it. As an overzealous aunt, I coaxed her to donate it to her school. It was a good decision. Today, the smiling Jesus surrounded by children sits in a niche in the school’s hallway, and he continues to watch over the children who boisterously walk by.

    In today’s Gospel the disciples become annoyed when parents bring their children to Jesus, as if this is a waste of the Master’s time. But Jesus surprises everyone by taking the time to pray with the children and to bless them, by placing his hands on them. Jesus was unique among ancient preachers because he took children seriously and considered them vital members of the kingdom. In fact, he held them up as examples of how to belong to the kingdom of heaven. Children’s simplicity, wide-eyed acceptance, total trust, and joyfulness are characteristics that we adults ought to develop in our relationship with God.

    Today we need to continue bringing children to Jesus by teaching them about him, their greatest friend, by protecting them, and loving them. Tragically, some children in the world are hungry, abused, neglected, and preyed upon by people with evil intentions. They are forced into various forms of slavery—working at a young age, being used in the sex trade, abducted to fight as soldiers, abandoned to live in the streets. When children experience such unspeakable suffering, Jesus must be weeping, his heart filled with compassion for his little friends. He has a special place in the kingdom of God reserved for these children.

Oratio

    Lord Jesus, I ask you to protect and save children from any type of unjust or sinful actions. May families be patient with their lively children. May teachers be good guides to children. May the Church protect children and never hurt them.

Contemplatio

    Jesus, Divine Master, hold the children of the world close to your heart!

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

SS. Pontian, Pope and Martyr, and Hippolytus, Priest and Martyr

St. Pontian was a pope and St. Hippolytus an antipope; they became reconciled when both were sent into exile. Hippolytus was born about 170, and his mother tongue was most probably Greek. He came to Rome, and there he was ordained during the days of Pope Victor I (189–198). Hippolytus was a man of great learning and was recognized as the leading intellectual among the Roman clergy. The election of Pope Callistus (see October 14) in 217 did not meet with Hippolytus’s approval. He always looked with disdain on this former slave and cemetery-keeper, and now that Callistus was pope, Hippolytus openly disagreed with his penitential discipline. He thought the pope was much too easy with regard to forgiving sinners; hence, Hippolytus had his followers elect (217) him antipope—the first antipope in the history of the Church. Hippolytus remained antipope during the following pontificate of Pope Urban I (223–30) and into that of Pope Pontian. In 235, Maximinus Thrax (emperor 235–38) initiated his persecution by striking against the Church’s leaders, and thus he exiled both Pontian and Hippolytus to the salt mines of Sardinia. Hippolytus was one of the more prolific writers of the early Church, and of all his works the Apostolic Tradition is perhaps the most famous, because in it he has left us a description of the liturgical practices in use in the early third century.

Pontian was Roman-born and was elected to the papacy on July 21, 230, to succeed Urban I. The early years of his pontificate were years of peace, until Maximinus Thrax was acclaimed emperor in March 235. The Christian religion was no longer tolerated, and its leaders were singled out for attack. Thus Pontian and Hippolytus became the emperor’s first victims. Both were arrested and sent to Sardinia. Knowing that his deportation was for life, Pontian, on September 28, 235, abdicated the papacy (the first pope to do so) so that another could succeed him. Either on their way to Sardinia or shortly after arriving there, Pontian and Hippolytus became reconciled. Pontian died in Sardinia in October 235, not long after his arrival, as a result of the harsh treatment to which he had been subjected. Hippolytus died shortly afterward of the same cause. The Christians in Rome immediately revered both as martyrs, and Pope Fabian (236–50) (see January 20) had their bodies brought to Rome. Pontian was the first martyred pope to be solemnly buried (August 13, 236 or 237) in the crypt of the popes in the cemetery of Callistus, and Hippolytus was buried in the cemetery on the Via Tiburtina. Their memorial is celebrated on the anniversary of their burial in Rome.

Friday of the Nineteenth Week of Ordinary Time

Lectio

    Matthew 19:3–12

Meditatio

“Have you not read that from the beginning the Creator made them male and female.…”

    In the film Spiderman, superhero Peter Parker falls in love with his friend Mary Jane. In an emotionally charged scene, he tells her that despite his love, he must follow his special calling. Then he walks away, leaving Mary Jane in tears. In some way, Parker’s choice reflects an understanding of marriage and celibacy, the subject of today’s Gospel. But Jesus brings us to a deeper level. When the Pharisees question him about divorce, he goes back to the beginning, to Genesis, to the primeval garden. He tells them that from the beginning, man and woman were meant to be joined in the “one flesh” union of marriage. Divorce was not part of that picture, and Jesus’ statement against divorce shocks the apostles. If that’s the case, they object, it’s better not to marry! Jesus then shocks them even more by issuing a call to renounce marriage for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. To their Jewish ears, this is unthinkable.

    Pope John Paul II used this text in his talks on the theology of the body. He explained how marriage and celibacy are actually two sides of the same coin. They are in reality the same vocation, but lived out in different ways. How so? Love is our vocation, the love expressed in a gift of self to another. In the case of marriage, the love of the spouses binds them together in a gift of self that lasts for life. Their gift is a total gift. In the case of celibacy, the love of a person binds him or her to God in a gift of self that also lasts for life and is a gift shared with others. Both vocations are ways of pouring ourselves out in love for the sake of the beloved. Jesus points out that those who renounce marriage do so “for the sake of the Kingdom of heaven.” Celibacy anticipates the resurrection—the heavenly marriage—and is a sign of the future life in the kingdom of God (see Mt 22:30).

Oratio

    Jesus, open my eyes to see the beauty of my vocation to love. Help me to make a sincere gift of myself to you and to the people you have put in my life. I pray that married couples may grow in their love, and that those who are consecrated to celibacy for the sake of the kingdom may always witness to the joy that comes from your love.

Contemplatio

    Love is my vocation.

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

Thursday of the Nineteenth Week of Ordinary Time

Lectio

    Matthew 18:21–19:1

Meditatio

“… how often must I forgive …?”

    While studying abroad, I met a student who came from a culture and religion unfamiliar to me. This student had been offended by someone. In discussing the issue with me, it became clear that the student could not conceive of forgiving that individual. The concept of forgiveness had not been a common belief in that student’s religion. The incident confirmed for me that forgiveness is one of the radical concepts of Christianity. That doesn’t mean that Christians can easily forgive hurts and wrongdoing, especially when they affect us personally. Forgiveness of others and letting go of resentment can be difficult, and it becomes possible through the gift of grace that Christ won for us by his teaching, example, suffering, death, and resurrection.

    In today’s parable, Jesus tells the story of a man who is forgiven a large debt, and then refuses to forgive another man for a much smaller offense. As we human beings travel through our earthly existence, we bump into one another and cause, or experience, injustice, anger, harsh words and judgments, physical harm, and many other acts and expressions of hostility and pain. Our deeply wounded selves tend to hold on to hurt and resentment. But forgiving and letting go offer unparalleled psychological and spiritual freedom. In a sense, forgiveness can be more important for the injured person than the one who caused the injury. To pardon is to release a cumbersome weight that keeps us imprisoned; to pardon is a divine gift that can restore our distressed and bitter hearts to serenity and joy.

    Forgiveness is a process. It may be offered easily, but it may also take us a long time to arrive at the point of pardoning those who wronged us. Sometimes we may only be capable of praying for the person, asking the Divine Master to forgive in our stead until we find in our hearts the freedom of forgiveness.

Oratio

    Lord, this business of forgiveness is never easy. When I do not want to forgive a person who hurt me, my distorted thinking likes to believe that I am punishing that person. But in reality, holding on to grievances hurts me even more. Give me, Lord, the grace to forgive, especially when it is difficult. Amen.

Contemplatio

    “Our Father, who art in heaven … forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

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

St. Clare, Virgin

St. Clare was born in Assisi in 1193 or 1194 and—moved by the example and preaching of Francis of Assisi (see October 4)—she determined (1211) to follow his way of life. She divested herself of her possessions and, against her family’s wishes, she went to live in poverty with Francis and his followers. She received the habit from him at the Portiuncula in March 1212, and she set about living a penitential and ascetical life. For a monastery, Francis gave Clare an old house near the Church of San Damiano, a short distance from Assisi. She was soon joined by her younger sister Agnes; then their mother, Ortolana, asked to join them; and finally their sister Beatrice also joined. In 1215, Francis appointed Clare superior of the community. Their way of life was most penitential: sleeping on the ground, not eating meat, wearing only sandals, and speaking only when there was need. From about 1225 until her death, Clare was almost constantly ill, no doubt a condition brought on by her extreme penitential practices. Through her great love for the Blessed Sacrament, she was successful, in 1243, in preserving her convent and the city of Assisi from raiding Saracens. She died on August 11, 1253, and devotion to her became so widespread that she was canonized two years later, on August 15, 1255, by Pope Alexander IV. Today’s prayer reminds us that the love of poverty that Clare lived and had in her heart was inspired by God. The religious communities that follow her rule are today known as Poor Clares.

St. Lawrence, Deacon and Martyr

St. Lawrence, one of the seven deacons of the Church of Rome, was in charge of distributing alms to the poor. He was martyred during the persecution of Valerian (emperor 253–59), who in August 258 had ordered the execution of Christian bishops, priests, and deacons. While assisting at a liturgical service in the cemetery of Praetextatus, together with Pope Sixtus II (see August 7) and six other deacons, he was apprehended but was martyred four days later, on August 10, 258. The tradition concerning Lawrence’s death is as follows. Because he was in charge of alms, the prefect of Rome, being in need of money, asked him to hand over the Church’s treasury. In answer to this request, Lawrence assembled the city’s poor, to whom he had distributed whatever money the Church had as alms, and, pointing to them, he said: “This is the treasury of the Church.” Thinking he could compel Lawrence to reveal his hiding places, the prefect had him roasted on a gridiron and, thus, Lawrence died a martyr’s death. Legend has it that after he had been broiled on one side, he himself suggested to his executioners to turn him over so that the other side could also be done. Lawrence was one of the most popular saints in the early Church, and his name was added to the Roman Canon. During the time of Constantine (emperor 306–37), a chapel was built over his tomb in the cemetery of Cyriaca on the Via Tiburtina. Later, Pope Pelagius II (579–90) built a larger church; it is still in use and is known as St. Lawrence Outside-the-Walls, one of Rome’s patriarchal basilicas.

Tuesday of the Nineteenth Week of Ordinary Time

Lectio

    Matthew 18:1–5, 10, 12–14

Meditatio

“… will he not … go in search of the stray?”

    Why? Why would Jesus search for the stray? He has ninety-nine sheep that stayed in the herd. They are good sheep. This other one is a troublemaker—going away from the herd, getting lost, creating a problem. Just let him go. You still have ninety-nine. It’s a little like losing a penny on the street. No matter, a penny doesn’t make any difference.

But Jesus, nevertheless, goes after the stray sheep. Why? I believe part of the answer is given to us by Saint Paul. We are the body of Christ. How could Jesus let a part of his body be lost? The more sinful we are, the greater the failures of those in the community, the more tenderly Jesus seeks us out, for we are his body.

    What simple and mysterious logic! It is human to be angry at the one who causes problems for the group. It is divine to go search for it as if it were our own body. Recently I broke my arm. So I have had to care for my arm, keeping it still for six weeks, exercising it for twelve weeks, stretching it, lifting it, strengthening it, bending it in all different directions. I do these things because it is part of my body. I need my arm and cannot do without it. Similarly, Jesus seeks out each person (for all of us stray) because we are each part of his body, loved and needed and healed. He cannot do without us. It is a good lesson. The righteous style of my youth gives way to the wise patience of adulthood and to the indomitable love shown to us by Jesus. Love. It is all we are called to, over and over again—love. When the Apostle John was brought out to preach he said only these words, “Love one another.”

Oratio

    Good Shepherd, I am ashamed of the way I sometimes have thought and spoken about people in the Church because of their beliefs, their behavior, their attitudes, their sins. Teach me to love my brothers and sisters the way I love myself, to cherish them as I care for my own body. I thank you for the times you have come looking for me when I have strayed, and have brought me back.

Contemplatio

    I am your body, Jesus. What mystery! What gift!

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

St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, Virgin and Martyr

    Edith Stein was born October 12, 1891, in what is now Wroclaw, Poland, but which had been Breslau since the Prussian occupation of western Poland in 1741. Edith was the youngest of eleven children. Because her father died when she was very young, her mother, who was a devout Jew, raised the family and saw to its support. Though the mother was meticulous in observing all Jewish holy days and customs, nevertheless, by the time Edith reached her early teen years, she was an avowed atheist. In 1911, she matriculated at the university in her native city; she intended to study German and history, but she became interested in experimental psychology, in the hope that this would help in her search for truth. While at the university, she was introduced to the writings of Edmund Husserl (1859–1938), and because she found them inspiring, she transferred (1913) to Göttingen to be one of his students. While there, she met the philosopher Max Scheler (1874–1928), and it was through him that she had her first contact with Catholicism. When Husserl moved to Freiburg in 1916, Edith went along as his graduate assistant and there received her doctorate. Feeling the beginnings of an interior transformation, Edith now began to read the New Testament.

    During the summer of 1921, as a house guest of friends in Bergzabern, she began reading the autobiography of St. Teresa of Jesus (see October 15). She spent the entire night reading, and when she finished it the next morning her remark was, “This is the truth!” Having been moved by what she had read, she then purchased a catechism and a missal, and after studying both, attended her first Mass in Bergzabern. After Mass, she asked the priest to baptize her. She was finally baptized on January 1, 1922, at which time she took the name Teresa. There was also growing within her the desire to be a Carmelite nun. Later, in 1922, she began teaching German at St. Magdalena’s School in Speyer. The school was operated by Dominican sisters, and because Edith had taken private vows, her manner of life was similar to that of the sisters. She left Speyer in 1931 and returned home, busying herself in translating philosophical treatises of St. Thomas Aquinas (see January 28). Then, in 1932, she was appointed lecturer at the German Institute for Educational Theory in Münster; but the following year, she was asked to leave because of her Jewish heritage. Adolf Hitler (1889–1945) had recently come (1933) into power, and Germany had launched a large-scale offensive against the Jews. It was now time for her to fulfill her deepest desire.

    On October 14, 1933, she entered the Discalced Carmelite convent in Cologne, and when she received her habit in April 1934, she took Teresa Benedicta of the Cross as her name in religion. Then, on November 9, 1938, there occurred Kristallnacht—when synagogues were burned and Jews were driven from their homes. Knowing that her presence could cause difficulties for the nuns, she left her Cologne monastery on December 31, crossed the border into Holland under the cover of darkness, and arrived at the Echt convent the following morning. But when Germany occupied Holland (1940), she knew she was no longer safe even there. On July 26, 1942, the Dutch bishops issued their pastoral letter denouncing the deportation of Jews. The Nazis responded by ordering the arrest of all non-Aryan Catholics in Holland, and on August 2, 1942, Sr. Teresa Benedicta was arrested and taken from her convent. Then, on the morning of August 7, she and about a thousand others were transported to Oswiecim (also known by its German name, Auschwitz), and there, on August 9, 1942, she met her martyrdom in the gas chambers. St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross was canonized by Pope John Paul II in 1998.

St. Dominic, Priest

St. Dominic Guzmán was born in Caleruega, Old Castile, Spain, sometime after 1170. On completing his studies in theology at Palencia, he was appointed (about 1196) a canon of the cathedral chapter at Osma, and in 1201 he was chosen prior of that cathedral community. He accompanied Osma’s bishop, Diego de Azevedo, on two royal embassies to northern Europe, and during that time he became acquainted with the needs of the Church, especially in the Languedoc region of France, where the Church was severely threatened by the Albigensian heresy. To assist the Church in her present grave need, Dominic and several other priests were commissioned by Pope Innocent III (1198–1216) as itinerant preachers to save the French faithful from the heretics. Dominic preached throughout southern France for a period of about eleven years (1206–17). In 1214, he conceived the idea of forming a religious community to continue this important work of preaching, so he and his companions went to Toulouse in 1215, and there they formed what eventually came to be known as the Order of Friars Preachers, more commonly called Dominicans. Dominic only had six more years to live, but during that time he saw his order expand into France and Spain, Italy, Germany, and Poland. The cities of Paris and Bologna, both university centers, became the principal bases for the order’s growth. In 1221, after participating in the order’s second general chapter in Bologna, Dominic became ill and died there on August 6, 1221. He was canonized by Pope Gregory IX in 1234. Today’s prayer recalls that during a period of crisis St. Dominic came to the aid of the Church, that is, by his preaching against the heretics and by founding the Order of Friars Preachers.

Monday of the Nineteenth Week of Ordinary Time

Lectio

    Matthew 17:22–27

Meditatio

“… that we may not offend them.…”

    If you’re short on cash, it must be good to go fishing, knowing that your first fly will hook the big one. From this angle, today’s Gospel account seems oddly out of sync with Jesus’ other miracles, a matter of convenience, a self-serving stunt, like turning stones into bread—which Jesus refused to do. Ironically, both occasions offered him a chance to reaffirm his Sonship, for his sake and ours. The Greek word translated as “subjects” is literally “sons,” which Matthew uses to emphasize the Christological meaning of this text. By speaking in the plural, Jesus hints that the word he proclaims is not just about himself. He broadens it to exempt from payment all those born into the kingdom of his Father, children and heirs through the Son, as Paul phrases it (see Rom 8:17).

    By paying under protest, does Jesus cave in to the expectations of the status quo? No more than Mary, his mother, denied the unique circumstances of his birth by submitting to ritual purification, which, like the tax, was required by Jewish law. He will not make a point for others’ benefit, then undo it by “offending” them. Like Matthew’s Christians, Jesus was an observant Jew. Thus, his privileged position as Son is afforded also to those “children” of the Church, born of Israel into the Father’s kingdom.

    This episode is not about levying taxes or demanding royalties, though these have their place. Matthew inserted it here most probably to help his Jewish Christian community honor both of its traditions. In our day, Christians with a Jewish background and those in interfaith marriages can relate to that. Actually, we all can. As subjects of the kingdom we are also sons and daughters of the world. We have requirements to fulfill and expectations to meet there as well. With our various commitments, we frequently straddle diverse worlds. Rather than compartmentalize these, how do we integrate them?

Oratio

    Jesus, the kings of the earth plotted against you, the Lord’s Anointed (see Ps 2:2). You could have stood on your rights as Son. Instead, you chose to give your Church a word of humble love, an example we can follow. Give me your Spirit of wisdom so I can discern how to value and live my convictions, while adapting to our ever-changing times.

Contemplatio

    Father, with your openness of spirit, may I live my anointing as your daughter (son).

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

Nineteenth Sunday

First reading: A Contrast between Israel and Egypt (Wisdom 18:6–9)

The Book of Wisdom is possibly the latest book of the Old Testament, written not in Hebrew but in Greek, for the Greek-speaking Jews of Alexandria, just a few years before the birth of Jesus. The book is written against the background of considerable hostility between the Jews and the Egyptians. It vigorously attacks their worship of idols and especially of sacred animals, but is also vividly aware of Israel’s vocation to bring salvation to the whole world. The final section of the book, from which this reading is drawn, makes a series of rhetorical contrasts between the Egyptians and the Israelites at the time of the Exodus. At the very moment at which the Israelites were being delivered from Egypt, the Egyptians themselves were undergoing the destruction of the firstborn. The promises to Abraham to make his children God’s people were being fulfilled, while their enemies were being punished. This was the moment of the Passover, when Israel offered sacrifice and agreed to the Divine Law. Most first readings relate to the gospel reading; however, this reading prepares for the second reading, which is a meditation on the journey of God’s People.

Question: The Christian Passover of the Lord is the Eucharist. How can we make is a moment of commitment to Christ’s covenant?

Second reading: The People of God on Pilgrimage (Hebrews 11:1–2, 8–19)

The Sunday reading of the Letter to the Hebrews is divided between Years B and C. The author of the letter is unknown; there is no reason to think that it was written by St Paul. Its purpose was to strengthen Jewish priests who had joined the Christian community and were yearning for the sacred rites of Judaism. So it sets out to show that the rites of Christianity are superior. This year we have four readings from the later part of the Letter, of which this reading is the first. The principal theme is the journey of the People of God in faith. The faith of the ancestors of Israel, as they journeyed in faith through trials and difficulties, reliant on God’s faithfulness, is still an inspiration. Outstanding among their acts of faithful obedience was Abraham willingness to sacrifice his only-begotten son, Isaac, seen by the Church as a foretaste of God’s willingness to sacrifice his only-begotten Son to reconcile the world by his obedience. But whereas the resting place that Israel reached was not their final heavenly homeland, the Christian People of God is on pilgrimage to the final place of rest.

Question: What is it in the Church that nourishes our faith and sustains it?

Gospel: Being Ready for the Master’s Return (Luke 12:32–48)

The reading begins with a separate three verses that once again warn of the danger of worldly possession. This is a danger against which Luke, writing to a prosperous audience, continually warns. Then comes a series of warnings to be alert for the final meeting with the Lord, and a series of blessings on those who are so ready. Luke does not have a great scene of a universal final judgement, like Matthew’s parable of the sheep and the goats. There is no need to wait for a great final judgement scene at the end of the world. Luke, with his Greek frame of mind, is more interested in the individual judgement, for each of these parables concerns a single individual who is rewarded or punished. This is fully compatible with the notion that each individual’s final judgement is at death, rather than all together at the end of the world. The most wonderful and startling is the first promise that the master will himself serve the faithful servant. A second parable concerns the thief who (literally) ‘digs through’ the wall of the house when the master is off his guard. A third lesson is framed in terms of a slave who misuses his authority over other slaves, and so concerns the misuse of authority in the Church.

Question: How do you imagine your final judgement? What is its most awesome element?

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

St. Cajetan, Priest

St. Cajetan, son of Count Gaspare da Theine, was born in Vicenza, northern Italy, in October 1480. He pursued law studies at the University of Padua, and after graduation went (1506) to Rome, where Pope Julius II had given him an appointment as prothonotary apostolic in the Roman Curia. In Rome he joined the Oratory of Divine Love, a group devoted to piety and charity, and helped at the San Giacomo hospital for incurables. He was ordained in 1516 and was back in Vicenza in 1518, engaged in charitable works. In 1520 he went to Venice and there founded (1522) a hospital for incurables. He returned (1523) to Rome and in 1524 he and three companions formed the Congregation of Clerks Regular, priests dedicated to work for the reform of society according to Christian principles. Their congregation is more commonly known today as the Theatines, a name derived from Theate, the Latin name for Chieti, the episcopal see of their first superior, Gianpietro Caraffa (later Pope Paul IV). They were active in Rome until the sack of the city in 1527, when they moved their headquarters to Venice. Later, in 1533, Cajetan became superior of a new foundation in Naples; he labored there until his death, except for the period (1540–43) when he was superior in Venice. While in Naples, he preached against the teachings of Juan de Valdés (c. 1490–1541) and Bernardino Ochino (1487–1564), both of whom had Protestant leanings and were then active in the city. Cajetan died in Naples on August 7, 1547, and he was canonized by Pope Clement X in 1671. When today’s prayer affirms that St. Cajetan imitated the apostolic way of life, this is in reference to his founding of a religious congregation intent on seeking the salvation of the neighbor.

SS. Sixtus II, Pope and Martyr, and His Companions, Martyrs

St. Sixtus, who may have been of Greek extraction, was elected pope in August 257. On succeeding Stephen I (254–57), Sixtus became heir to the controversy that had originated during Stephen’s pontificate concerning the validity of baptism conferred by heretics. The Churches of Africa and Asia Minor held to their custom of rebaptizing heretics and schismatics, but Sixtus, like Stephen before him, upheld the Roman view that baptism, when properly administered even by heretics, was valid. With regard to this matter, Sixtus succeeded—where Stephen had failed—in restoring good relations with St. Cyprian, Bishop of Carthage (see September 16). The year of Sixtus’s election to the papacy was also the year of Valerian’s (emperor 253–59) decree against the Christians, in which he did not exactly demand that they renounce their religious beliefs but merely demonstrate their loyalty by offering sacrifice to the gods. Because most Christians remained faithful to their beliefs and practices, the imperial decree turned into a full-scale persecution, with Church leaders as the main target. On August 6, 258, Sixtus, together with his seven deacons, was conducting a service in the cemetery of Praetextatus when imperial police discovered them and beheaded Sixtus and four of the deacons (Januarius, Magnus, Stephen, and Vincent). Two deacons (Felicissimus and Agapitus) were most probably martyred later that day, while the seventh (Lawrence) was martyred four days later (see August 10). The bodies of Sixtus and the four deacons were buried in the cemetery of Callistus on the Appian Way, directly across from the cemetery of Praetextatus. Sixtus was one of the most venerated martyrs of the Roman Church and, thus, his name was added to the Roman Canon. His epitaph was written by Pope Damasus I (see December 11).

Nineteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time—Year C

Lectio

    Luke 12:32–48

Meditatio

“… be prepared.…”

    As disciples of Jesus, this command is a priority for us. We can be sure that we are fulfilling God’s will if we keep ourselves prepared. But what does it mean? And how can we fulfill it? Jesus tells a story to show us what he means by the command: “Be prepared.” Being prepared means that we have such a relationship with the Father—the Master—that when he is absent, we are “vigilant” for his return. When a loved one is absent from home, we long for that person’s return. We know exactly when he or she is due back and we make preparations for the homecoming. Life is not the same while our loved one is gone. Something—someone dear to our hearts—is missing.

    It’s the same with God. While we are on earth, we experience the Father’s absence. But in this case, we never know when he will manifest his presence. To be prepared for his coming means to long for it. We live in such a way that we may be able to welcome at any moment the one we long for, the one we know is missing from our lives. Jesus assures us that we have no reason to fear the Father: “Do not be afraid any longer, little flock, for your Father is pleased to give you the kingdom.” His story tells us that when the Father finds us waiting for him, he will serve us!

    What a message! The manifestation of the Master’s presence is not like that of a taskmaster who comes in and expects everything to be perfectly to his liking, demanding the impossible just because he can. No, he comes like a loved one who has returned home from a journey. On his arrival, he feels so completely at home with us that he begins to serve our needs.

    What are we waiting for?

Oratio

    Jesus, thank you for telling us this story about your Father. It makes me feel special to know that your Father looks forward with great longing to my welcoming him, just as I wait for him to manifest his presence. Help me to rid my life of the clutter that keeps me distracted from being prepared to welcome him in my life. Dispel the fear that sometimes moves me to believe that your Father is like a taskmaster who expects me to fulfill his needs. Remind me instead that your Father is more like a loved one who wants to take care of me. Amen.

Contemplatio

    Father, I await your return with a welcoming heart.

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

Nineteenth Sunday

First reading: A Contrast between Israel and Egypt (Wisdom 18:6–9)

The Book of Wisdom is possibly the latest book of the Old Testament, written not in Hebrew but in Greek, for the Greek-speaking Jews of Alexandria, just a few years before the birth of Jesus. The book is written against the background of considerable hostility between the Jews and the Egyptians. It vigorously attacks their worship of idols and especially of sacred animals, but is also vividly aware of Israel’s vocation to bring salvation to the whole world. The final section of the book, from which this reading is drawn, makes a series of rhetorical contrasts between the Egyptians and the Israelites at the time of the Exodus. At the very moment at which the Israelites were being delivered from Egypt, the Egyptians themselves were undergoing the destruction of the firstborn. The promises to Abraham to make his children God’s people were being fulfilled, while their enemies were being punished. This was the moment of the Passover, when Israel offered sacrifice and agreed to the Divine Law. Most first readings relate to the gospel reading; however, this reading prepares for the second reading, which is a meditation on the journey of God’s People.

Question: The Christian Passover of the Lord is the Eucharist. How can we make is a moment of commitment to Christ’s covenant?

Second reading: The People of God on Pilgrimage (Hebrews 11:1–2, 8–19)

The Sunday reading of the Letter to the Hebrews is divided between Years B and C. The author of the letter is unknown; there is no reason to think that it was written by St Paul. Its purpose was to strengthen Jewish priests who had joined the Christian community and were yearning for the sacred rites of Judaism. So it sets out to show that the rites of Christianity are superior. This year we have four readings from the later part of the Letter, of which this reading is the first. The principal theme is the journey of the People of God in faith. The faith of the ancestors of Israel, as they journeyed in faith through trials and difficulties, reliant on God’s faithfulness, is still an inspiration. Outstanding among their acts of faithful obedience was Abraham willingness to sacrifice his only-begotten son, Isaac, seen by the Church as a foretaste of God’s willingness to sacrifice his only-begotten Son to reconcile the world by his obedience. But whereas the resting place that Israel reached was not their final heavenly homeland, the Christian People of God is on pilgrimage to the final place of rest.

Question: What is it in the Church that nourishes our faith and sustains it?

Gospel: Being Ready for the Master’s Return (Luke 12:32–48)

The reading begins with a separate three verses that once again warn of the danger of worldly possession. This is a danger against which Luke, writing to a prosperous audience, continually warns. Then comes a series of warnings to be alert for the final meeting with the Lord, and a series of blessings on those who are so ready. Luke does not have a great scene of a universal final judgement, like Matthew’s parable of the sheep and the goats. There is no need to wait for a great final judgement scene at the end of the world. Luke, with his Greek frame of mind, is more interested in the individual judgement, for each of these parables concerns a single individual who is rewarded or punished. This is fully compatible with the notion that each individual’s final judgement is at death, rather than all together at the end of the world. The most wonderful and startling is the first promise that the master will himself serve the faithful servant. A second parable concerns the thief who (literally) ‘digs through’ the wall of the house when the master is off his guard. A third lesson is framed in terms of a slave who misuses his authority over other slaves, and so concerns the misuse of authority in the Church.

Question: How do you imagine your final judgement? What is its most awesome element?

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