The Bringer of Good News

Last week we launched into the Gospel of Mark, reading how his story is all about the good news of Jesus Christ. It is often the case that the first line of a book is the one which must capture the attention of the reader if it is going to make any impression, and a story all about good news sounds like it’s well worth reading. We should keep this idea of good news at the forefront of our minds as we celebrate the liturgy this weekend because this Sunday is ‘Gaudete’ Sunday or ‘Joyful’ Sunday and on Monday we will begin the pre-octave of Christmas when each gospel reading of the weekday will unfold in all its beauty and majesty the mystery of the most joyful event in our history, the incarnation of Jesus.

To express this joy today, the Lectionary gives us two gospel readings to meditate on rather than one. Instead of a psalm after the first reading we are given the Magnificat from the Gospel of Luke to sing, and sing it we should, because it is one of the most joyful expressions of praise that issues from the mouth of any person in the whole of the canon of scripture. May I suggest that you take the bulletin home with you and keep it close by, so that on each day of this pre-octave week, you can pray this amazing paean of praise to God at home. I believe that if you do you will find that your spirits will be raised and that your heart will be filled with joy, just as Mary herself was. Go through each line slowly and prayerfully and allow the implications of the context of the canticle to illuminate your own circumstances. The message which Mary has been given (which will be the subject of next week’s gospel), is the good news given to her by the angel Gabriel, (a name which means “God’s strength”), that she is the one chosen to bear the child who will become the Messiah. Mary’s response is joyous, and that joy emanates from every line of her poem as the enormity of what it all this means for her becomes clear.

As we enter this special week in the liturgy of the Church, our minds will of course be filled with so many other matters and needs, all of which are perfectly natural and understandable. But in the midst of all the turbulence and upheaval that entered Mary’s life, she kept that good news at the forefront of her mind. We are called to make that same commitment, to keep the good news, the joyful news of the gospel message at the heart of all we do. Remember it was “God’s strength” that brought her the message and it was God’s strength which gave her the courage to glorify his name. In our joy, let that strength speak to us too.

Our Advent this year is curtailed. Last Sunday we had our celebration to launch the new parish of All Saints and our minds were perhaps more attuned to the joy of that occasion rather than doing the 1st Sunday of Advent full justice. But let us rejoice at what we did last week and congratulate everyone for the sterling efforts that went into pulling off one of the great turnarounds in managing to put it all together in the circumstances. Well done to one and all for such a memorable celebration. It just shows what we can do when we put our minds to it. But having now left behind that 1st Sunday of Advent we find that the 4th week is also gone because the 4th Sunday of Advent falls on December 24 . In reality there are only 14 days of Advent left –just a fortnight. So, as you can see that there is much to fit into these two weeks.

Today’s readings however will help us to concentrate the mind and I think that the First Reading and the Gospel complement each other beautifully to provide for us a clarion call to stir us from what ever holds us back in our response to God’s call. Isaiah cries out that the time of exile is complete – “her time of service is over, her sin is atoned for”. What a joyous message indeed. It rings with such fervour that its hard not to be uplifted by its vision. Obstacles are cleared and a pathway is bulldozed through the barriers and fences that otherwise stop and prevent us from acclaiming the presence of the Lord amongst us. And Mark in his extraordinary opening to his book of Good News echoes in just one sentence, the enormity of what has happened. His opening line is revelatory, declaring that what has now come about through the person of Jesus is the completion of the whole of the Biblical narrative, from its very outset in the Book of Genesis to the present day and beyond into the fulness of time. Mark implies by naming Jesus the anointed Son of God, that the powers of this world are overcome because of what his good news will relate, and it begins exactly as Isaiah prophesised. “Prepare the way for the Lord” and in this preparedness we acknowledge with the psalmist that we have “seen his mercy and have received his saving help”.

This is the encouragement which we dig into as we use this short time to make our own paths straight and bring us into the realm of his kingdom. We know that there are struggles and difficulties for so many people, and our hearts must not be hardened so that we fail to recognise the suffering that is shattering so many lives. Let our prayers be ones which call for peace on earth and goodwill to all at the coming of the one who will baptise with the Holy Spirit and be our shepherd feeding us with his love.

Celebrating our new parish All Saints.

In the opening chapters of the prophet Isaiah, we read “Come let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the Temple of our God”. This “us” is inclusive of all the nations, called to participate in a great procession of humanity, walking in step in the light of the Lord. It is a magnificent image, one which in a real way is evoked by our gathering here today to begin our new identity as the parish of All Saints, West Nottingham. Images are important for us because they convey meaning through sign and symbol. The image that was on the overhead screen as we came into this Hall was just one artist’s (Fra Angelico) portrayal of the communion of saints on the move towards that great goal of the heavenly Jerusalem, but its just one image and today, I think we should make an attempt at combining the two realities we are celebrating to see what sign and symbol they create.

Advent and All Saints, can they resonate? Do they resonate? Yes, they can and together they produce a powerful witness of the hope that springs eternal in the Christian message. Advent is the season of the Church which begins its new year. We look forward to the coming of Christ, not just as the infant in the manger at Christmas, but also as the Risen Lord who will come in glory at the end of time. Our hope is affirmed in this message. The story continues to unfold before us as we live the gospel in our every day lives. The life of Jesus becomes the pattern for our lives as we respond to his call and take up the challenge which he offers us from birth to death and beyond. Of course, the saints inspire and help us. Our three patrons are magnificent examples of this. St Teresa who lived to express the love of God in all things. St Thomas More whose faith was steadfast during a period of great political and religious upheaval, and St Hugh who was a pastor of deep compassion and steely resilience in times of change and re-organisation. What great models they are for our new parish of All Saints, as we begin this new phase of our Christian vocation of mission and outreach.

Perhaps we could set up a prayer space in each of our churches and dedicate it to these three saints to remind us of our unity together. We could create a special prayer invoking their intercession to help, guide and encourage us in our new project. We could have it on display, easily accessible to be read as we contemplate the work we are called to undertake. Wouldn’t that be a truly appropriate sign and symbol for this day of celebration?

Coming Together

In a week’s time our parish of All Saints, will gather as one. We sincerely hope that you will be there at Trinity School to celebrate this important and momentous occasion. Our three communities of St Teresa of Lisieux, Aspley, St Hugh of Lincoln, Bilbborough and St Thomas More, Wollaton have long and proud histories, each stretching back well over half a century of catholic witness in this area of west Nottingham. We want to celebrate that proud history in the best way we know, by coming together next Sunday, to actively participate in the Mass which will inaugurate the next stage in the future of our communities. This coming together does not mean that we lose that history. On the contrary, it means that the example of those dedicated and committed parishioners who created and established the catholic presence in this area, can become the inspiration for us, as the generation charged with the task of ensuring that the presence of the gospel continues to shine forth in this place. Their example can animate us to reach out beyond our catholic community and bring the message of Christ anew to others who have not yet heard it or who have lost touch with it. This celebration is both a thanksgiving for what we have received from our forebears as well as a launchpad for what we are inspired by them to build and to hand on.

This work cannot be done without you. Your role in actively participating in the living out of your catholic faith is the only way in which it can be achieved. It means being alive in the life of the Church, showing through your witness that the gospel message continues to shine forth from our Churches, from our schools, from our homes and in our families. We know that we can do this because of what we have already achieved. Coming together as one parish is the next step in this process. Recognising each other as co-workers in the vineyard of the Lord is now our identity. We are called by Jesus to embrace the moment.

In the gospel today the challenge is laid down. “Lord, when did I see you hungry or thirsty, a stranger or naked, sick or in prison and did not come to your help?” All we have to do is to look around and we see the issue laid out before us. This is the vineyard in which we are called to work. With God’s grace and with each other’s encouragement and support we can achieve so much. Together let us aspire to make this parish of All Saints a place where the kingdom of truth and life, of holiness and grace, of justice, love and peace become the fruits of our union.

Come to our celebration!

Year's End

We’re coming to the end of the liturgical year and as a result we are coming to the end of our reading of the Gospel of Matthew. Next week will be the last Sunday of the year and if there is any phrase from our year with Matthew that has impacted powerfully upon us, my hope would be that it was the phrase “the kingdom of heaven is like...”. Of the last nineteen Sunday gospels, twelve have had as their main topic the theme of the kingdom of heaven. I think that we can say without much contradiction that this concept was a very important part of Jesus’ message and teaching. Often when we hear the phrase “the kingdom of heaven”, we are a bit uncertain as to its meaning and its implication, but we really shouldn’t be, and I think that if any gospel passage defines its meaning and relevance for us, then today’s is a good one.

When Jesus said to Peter “I give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven” we may have thought “well then please show us the lock and the entrance door too” But having read today’s gospel we now know where both the lock and the door are. Each of us has been given the talent to tap into the kingdom since that talent is the kingdom. In other words, the kingdom is part and parcel of who and what we are, and the key to releasing and unlocking that talent and by analogy the fruits of the kingdom, lie in each one of us recognising for ourselves the revelation that brought Peter to make his confession. “You are the Christ the Son of the living God” is how Peter put it and Jesus blessed him for it. The question is can we recognise that same vision in our- selves and in each other?

To do so we need to re-examine our values and look again at what is important and meaningful in our lives. There is no doubt that our world is changing and changing rapidly. We only have to look around to see the massive problems which we are facing. The continuing war in Ukraine, the conflict between Israel and Hamas, the economic hardships and the impact of climate change leave us all wondering where it will all lead to. Are we travelling towards the kingdom, or have we all essentially been acting like that servant who just buried his talent? Have we ignored our talent and left it well alone, such that the virtues of the kingdom which it represented simply withered away? If we have then woe betide us because we need to recover it sooner rather than later.

Love of God and Love of Neighbour

Even though the war between Israel and Hamas is tearing apart some many lives it is remarkable that in the midst of such conflict, there are still voices that are seeking to reach out and offer solutions and hope. The testimony of family members who have spoken about their loss on both sides is harrowing and tragic and so very hard to listen to, yet among all the words small gestures are seen and heard that offer glimpses of hope. As we are confronted by the images we see, our hearts are broken too. What is the answer? Where are we to find a solution that will build the trust and the hope that ensures that justice and peace will emerge from the wreckage that has been visited on so many. The path of peace is indeed a long and twisted one, which makes massive demands. It seems that whenever tentative steps are taken to explore the way of reconciliation opposing voices can easily subvert such a desire to offer a different future. But what is the alternative after so many years of hatred and mistrust?

The question in the gospel today was spoken with just such a tone of dissent. Spoken in order to generate another dispute, another angry argument about who holds authority and power. We look to our religion, our faith, not to generate anger or hate. Not to embed division or separation but to express solidarity and union with one another. Even when we differ or when we dispute with one another, our religion must not be the instrument by which we enforce our differences. Our religion must not be the vehicle which creates vast spaces between us, rather it must be the pathway through which such differences and spaces can be narrowed, overcome, and bridged.

Jesus co-joins the command to love God with the commission to love neighbour. For him they are coincident realities. Jesus later explains what this means with the parable of the Good Samaritan. Two thousand years later we are still trying to get our heads around the implications of that parable for us, so we can see just how long the path of peace takes to walk. How many times have we observed the one fallen on the side of the road and passed by. We can’t claim that we love God if we go and do that to our neighbour. In other words, you can’t have the one without the other and that the two must walk hand in hand, feeding our lives and guiding our steps.

The Image of the Invisible God

The above title invokes the lines from the Christological hymn in St Paul’s letter to the Colossians (see Ch 1 v15). I think it would be well worth reading through the whole of the chapter particularly in the light of the on-going trauma which is unfolding in Gaza. We need all the prayers our congregations can earnestly offer for a swift and just resolution to this dreadful situation.

In his letter, St Paul uses the phrase “image of the invisible God” in reference to Jesus as the Christ, the one through whom we have received redemption and forgiveness of sins and have thereby been delivered from the dominion of darkness and transferred into his kingdom. A kingdom which we understand as a living experience in our minds and in our lives as disciples. In his understanding of this phrase the scripture scholar and theologian NT Wright describes the Christian as someone who has become an image bearer of God’s revealed love at work in the world. Through the incarnation this invisible image has become visible to us in the life of Jesus Christ. He is the one through whom all things can be reconciled, everything in heaven and everything on earth, when he made peace by his death on the cross.

In the gospel today to-day we have perhaps one of the most famous sayings of Jesus. The Pharisees try to trap him, thinking they are putting him on the horns of a dilemma.” Is it permissible to pay tax to Caesar or not?” they ask. In answering, Jesus throws the argument back to them. “Whose image is on the coin?” he asks them, and in doing so, he turns the tables on them. Whose image is on the things which we most value in our lives? If we believe that we are God’s image bearers, then the answer should be very clear to us, and we must respond accordingly. We must begin to do the work which Jesus asks us to do. What then is that work?

We look around us and maybe ask ourselves what it is that I can do? I can’t alleviate world poverty or establish universal peace, but in one sense that is not what we are here to do, because the one who came from God as the first born of all creation has already set in motion those realities by his victory on the cross. Our task is to live our lives with the image of that victory firmly embedded in our outlook in respect of everything we do. The incarnation is the breaking into our lives of the pathway towards resurrection into the new creation. Jesus, as the first born, opens the way and we, in the fulness of time, will follow. What we are to do here in the world is to proclaim the message and to express the expectation of our hope in his truth. It means working with those alongside us for the justice and peace of the kingdom to become accessible to all. It means working to make the image of God recognisable and tangible through our deeds and words. St Paul puts it like this: It is for this I struggle wearily on, helped by his power driving me irresistibly. May it be the power that drives us too.

Walking in the Valley of Darkness

The news this week has of course been dominated by the awful outbreak of violence be- tween Hamas and Israel. I fear that in writing anything about these events, I lay myself open to the criticism of doing so from a viewpoint of ignorance and misunderstanding. Yes, it is true I have no expertise in the history of this enduring conflict, so these thoughts are de facto, made from a standpoint distant from any experience of what it is like to live in such conditions. This I accept, may or may not disqualify them from being relevant, but witnessing the suffering and horror of what is happening, when one feels totally helpless, calls on us to do what we can, even if it may seem to many irrelevant. So, what can we do?

We are gathered around a table. What is it that we are here for? Can we expand our minds to see that today, just as at every eucharist, we have come to share our hopes, our joys, our pain, our sorrows and our sadness. It should not escape our thoughts. We are here to experience a moment that foreshadows and brings into our present lives, an encounter which encapsulates the very essence of what we are about. It is the making present of a memory which illuminates our minds with a mystery that ignites the flame of faith in a God of love within us. The psalm from today’s Mass is perhaps judicious at this time. It speaks about a good shepherd, one who can lead and comfort people even in the harshness of a turmoil that to us seems insoluble. When the two disciples on the road to Emmaus were walking through their own valley of darkness, they experienced the presence of the Risen Lord. They found their consolation in what they had witnessed. Where though did Jesus go when he vanished before their eyes? The theologian Hans von Balthasar says that Jesus vanished so as to be made present in the Church; in you and in me and in all who believe in him. Today in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre Jerusalem, the church built over the site of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus, the eucharist will be celebrated, the bread will be broken and shared, and the presence of Christ will be made real in the people gathered there, just as he is made real for us as we gather here in Wollaton, Aspley and Bilborough. This is our koinonia, our communion, our solidarity as children made in the image and likeness of God, with the people of Gaza and Israel, with the people of Ukraine and Russia, and with all who are suffering the turmoil of war as they walk through the dark valley.

It may not sound enough. But I remember a former parish priest of these parts, who when asked in the light of an outbreak of violence and warfare, what his contribution to peace would be responded without hesitation: the celebration of the eucharist. We may feel that sounds strange, but it moves our hearts and minds towards a response we can all participate in and become engaged with. We pray and hope for peace and reconciliation.

The Vineyard turns dark

This will be the third week in which the image of the vineyard takes a central place in the gospel account. Two weeks ago, we heard the story of the labourers who were contracted to work in the vineyard. The first group of workers who were picked early in the morning, felt hard done to by the landowner when he chose to pay them the same amount of money as those who had worked for less time and in much more comfortable conditions. Jesus told the story to emphasise the generosity of the landowner as he provided for the all the daily needs of each of his workers. Last week we listened to the story of the father who asked his two sons to go and work in the vineyard and of how one said “yes” but didn’t go, and the other who said “no” but then did go. The point that Jesus wanted to emphasise here was that the call to act which he gives to each of us, is a moral choice, to be made in a positive and life enhancing way. Today however, we read a very different story, an altogether darker tale in which the vineyard itself becomes a place of danger and violence. It is a story which ends with the death of the son of the landowner. What are these three parables telling us about the vineyard and what it represents?

Each of these stories take place in the vineyard, which by correlation, becomes the landscape in which we all live and move and have our being. God calls us all to be generous with our love, and to be challenged by our calling so that we think deeply about our response. We are to see the vineyard and its environment, which we shape and mould, as being defined by how we carry out our tasks. Am I as generous as I can be with my gifts and talents? Does my commitment to my calling, my moral compass, swing this way and that way, with different emphases, depending on how I feel at any particular time? Do I treat the vineyard as my own possession, to do with as I please. Or do I see the vineyard as a shared and precious resource not to be abused, but to be cherished and cared for?

These are important considerations which will inform how we continue to build and grow in our vocation as disciples. In our coming to knowledge about the identity of the foundation on which our faith is built, the radical approach that Jesus offers reveals something fundamental to us. It is the stone rejected by the builders which becomes the keystone. Just as Jesus pointed out to Peter, as followers of Jesus, we must stop thinking like man and begin to think like God, because God’s ways are not our ways. Jesus shows us a way that is more compelling, more radical. Only when we have worked out and understood the meaning of this and have begun to put it into effect, will the vineyard become the place where a majestic vintage will be harvested.

There is a choice to be made

One could say that the overarching theme which runs through the whole of the New Testament is an answer to the question: Who do you say I am? We have it clearly enunciated by Jesus himself when he gathers his disciples together at Caesarea Phillipi and puts it quite bluntly to them. The rest of the gospels and the remaining books of the NT are in one sense a pathway directing our minds and hearts towards answering the question for ourselves. In other words, it all comes down to a choice. He is who he says he is, or he isn’t. The answer we give is the hinge on which our Christian life turns.

In the gospel today, the father in the story essentially asks his two sons that very same question. Will you go and work in my vineyard, is as we know very well, a euphemism to ask if we are prepared to live out the Christian life in the light of the teachings and deeds of Jesus Christ, our saviour and redeemer. To profess such a belief and to live it is not an easy thing to do, especially in our modern society where so much of the ambiance in which we live no longer appreciates or relates to the gospel message. Think of all the alternative lifestyle choices and wellbeing manuals that are on offer today and you realise how saturated the marketplace is with new age thinking. But that isn’t what the gospel is about. Jesus isn’t just one ethical teacher amongst so many others, and the followers of Jesus knew this. You only have to read that passage from today’s second reading to grasp the immensity of what is on offer. Those words were written down barley a decade and a half after the experience of the cross and Easter. They express a clear understanding of Jesus, of who he was, and of what he had achieved. This shows how, from the earliest years of the Church, Jesus was viewed as being vital and integral to what it means to be human. In our complex and diverse society, I believe his place in the heart of it remains central to its right ordering.

We all must ponder the question and make our choice and we will perhaps prevaricate and toss and turn over our answer, because that’s human nature at work. What we need to be able to articulate, is why we say “yes” to the question the father in today’s gospel asks, and why we continue to say “yes” even if life would be much easier if we said “no”. We say “yes” because deep down, in our hearts, we all recognise the truth of the gospel and find in that truth the very purpose of what we are to be; workers in the vineyard as disciples of Jesus Christ, true God and true man.

From the heart of the matter (part 2)

Last week’s parable of the mean hearted steward told us a great deal about our own lack of mercy and forgiveness. Of how in the face of the overwhelming love of God towards us we in our own dealings with each other can often be so callous and cruel. It’s a sobering lesson for us to learn. Well, now the lectionary has leapfrogged along to Chapter 20 in which we read the story of the labourers in the vineyard and of their workplace grievance at the action of their landowner. In the interim between the two parables, we have Jesus’ teaching on the indissolubility of marriage, the story of the rich young man, and the danger of riches, all of which prompt Peter to raise his voice once more in question: “What about us”, he says –“we’ve left everything and followed you from day one, what’s in it for us?”. Typical Peter you might well say and Jesus in his wisdom has this story for him, but it’s not just for him, it’s for us too.

We may at times all feel a bit like Peter, in that we too have been giving our all to the job at hand, working hard and making sacrifices and all for what? Is our society listening or paying any attention? By the look of it not particularly. The divorce rates seem as high as ever and the attraction of riches and wealth as the prime motivator of people’s ambitions still abounds. Furthermore, the statistics continue to record a declining trend in affiliation to the Christian Church’s message of love of God and love of neighbour, to a degree that the outlook seems bleak. What does this parable tell us about the current situation we are facing and of how to respond to it?

The landowner’s actions are key. Of course, we are to understand the landowner as Jesus, and we find him in both the marketplace and the workplace, the very centre of a society’s activity; the heart of all that goes on in a community. It is here that he meets us and calls us and so it is in these places that we must continue to proclaim him. Jesus revolutionises these spaces by his offering of not a contract but a covenant to the workers. A contract is a finite agreement which will ultimately end with each party going their separate ways. Jesus however repudiates that by offering us something much more potent. What he offers is an everlasting covenant which is predicated on God’s all-embracing love and will last into eternity, no matter how late in the day we accept it. This is the message we need to announce in our marketplaces and work environments. The Gospel needs us to bring it to life.

From the heart of the matter

Last week’s gospel passage ended with that lovely saying of Jesus: where two or three are gathered in my name I shall be there with them. These are such consoling words that it made Peter think hard about the significance of what he had heard Jesus telling them. Having thought he perceived something truly mind blowing. That in their dealings with each other they should always understand that they are not alone. That in the very heart of all they do and say within their relationships they must realise and grasp the reality of Jesus’ presence. That is such a startling, eye opening realisation, that it changes everything and most significantly it changes the way we respond to the concept of forgiveness and once more we are presented with that difference between God’s way and man’s way.

Peter can envisage it up to a certain degree but not beyond. Jesus however once more gently reprimands him - not seven but seventy-seven (or as some translations say seven times seventy-seven). In other words, if your forgives comes from the heart then it is limitless in its effect. You only have to go back to the Sermon on the Mount to see where these thoughts originate. Blessed are the merciful for they shall have mercy shown them; no limits attached. Remember too in the prayer which Jesus teaches us, we are to pray forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us, again no limits attached. The parable which Jesus relates in today’s gospel points out the great gulf between they way we live out our lives with all its limits and restrictions, and the way which the limitless God calls us to live out our lives. The vast difference between what the man in the parable owed and was forgiven, and what he was owed and refused to forgive is phenomenal and yet this is the deficit of love which we often fail to comprehend. The love of God for us is vast and available to us yet we can be so callous in our reception of it, refusing to acknowledge its capacity to warm and open our own hardened frozen hearts.

It is in our reception of Jesus that the thaw can begin to change our attitude. In him coming to us in word and sacrament we begin to find within ourselves and those around us the basis for what our lives are about. To understand that we are loved so overwhelmingly must make us change. In seeing the world as his dwelling and in finding him in all things and all persons around us, we are moved from an inward, selfish and limited motivation towards an outward and selfless manifestation in which what matters is the presence of his limitless love, as the life giving and life endorsing reality. 

Responsibility and Action

What is the relationship between responsibility and action? We hear a lot these days about individual rights and of how it seems that everyone can claim a right to something at some stage, and of how if that right is denied, then watch out that person who caused the breach. From its very outset, the Church has always held to the concept of the “common good” as being essential to its teaching.? The gospel today gives us three important paragraphs each one of which offers an insight into the subject of social morality, social cohesion and social justice, and our duty to act thereon.

If your brother does something wrong...What generates a moral imperative has to be an accepted norm for it to work, and if we witness actions or words which disregard and abuse these norms, then as responsible Christians we should make our views known and felt. We should not simply allow such abuses to go unopposed or unquestioned. The great moral debates which challenge and confront our society today of euthanasia, assisted dying and abortion are ones which require the Catholic view to be articulated clearly and robustly since failure to do so will render society morally the poorer for such failure.

Whatever you bind on earth...Unless a society knows how to apply limits on its desires and sees what is good and valuable in what it has created, and knows when to draw a line, its cohesion or its structure will begin to collapse. If we just allow our own rights to become inviolable and unchallengeable, then the basic norms of our society will begin to disintegrate.
For where two or three are gathered...How we recognise the call to justice and how we implement it requires a great commitment both on behalf of our Christian communities and more immediately upon us as individuals. Again to return to the early Church, Acts tells us that the baptised remained faithful to the teaching of the apostles, to the brotherhood, the breaking of bread and to prayer. Here are we today, gathered in this place and can we claim still to be faithful to those words? Perhaps the best way for us to understand this call to responsibility and action, to morality, cohesion and justice, is to place before our thoughts the great parable of Jesus of the Last Judgement and to recall his words which we will read later this year on the feast of Christ the King...I tell you solemnly, in so far as you neglected to do this to one of the least of these, you neglected to do it to me... Here is responsibility and action defining a society which is clear about its morals, sure of its cohesion and actively applying its justice. Is it however one which we recognise around us today?

God's Way

Having been so highly praised last week, Peter is now brought right back down to earth. It must have come as an enormous shock, stunning him into silence and no doubt deep confusion. The next time he speaks to Jesus following this rebuttal is when he is with him on the mountain of the transfiguration. Having heard Jesus speak to him and the other disciples about how he was to suffer and be put to death, Peter along with James and John find themselves in the midst of an extraordinary experience. Perhaps this was Jesus offering Peter an insight into God’s way of thinking and not man’s.

I’m sure Peter was deeply affected by these two moments and surely he carried them with him in his head for the rest of his life. It’s impossible not to have been changed by the impact they made. Let’s face it, on the one hand being compared to Satan, and then being part of a divine vision of the transfigured Jesus are not easily forgotten. How was he meant to work them out?

I think, through his prayer and his contemplation and in his coming to understand Jesus, he must have pondered on the immensity of what he was living through. He must have begun to look at Jesus and seen in him something extraordinary. Maybe his understanding was helped by his reading of the Prophet Isaiah where in Chapter 53 he read that Song of the Suffering Servant which so resonates the passion which Jesus underwent and in Chapter 54, the aftermath of that suffering which speaks of a renewed and restored Jerusalem and of the invitation in Chapter 55 to come to the water all who are thirsty, just as Jesus himself invited all who laboured and were overburdened to come to him for their rest. How just, that immediately after, Isaiah writes for as the heavens are a high above the earth as my ways are above your ways, my thoughts above your thoughts, Peter may have found consolation in those words and have realised that his profession of faith was somehow both necessary and part of the very mystery of that faith. Peter’s struggles would of course continue to the shedding of tears of shame at his denial of Jesus, but ultimately even that shame was taken away by his post resurrection encounter with the Risen Lord on the beach.

We all have difficulties and struggles with coming to understand the mystery of our faith, the ups and downs of our lives teach us that in following the way of Jesus we all come to an encounter with the cross. This draws us into a relationship with God which is profound for it opens our minds, however fleetingly, to experience his way, which is a love that overcomes all obstacles even death, and in doing so brings us to new life.

The Everlasting Question

“Who do you say I am?”. If you wanted to put a title at the beginning of each Gospel then perhaps that would be a good one. Of course, in real way that is what the gospels do. St Mark in the very first sentence of his gospel lays it out in full: the beginning of the good news about Jesus Christ, Son of God. St Paul does the same thing at the start of his letter to the Romans: this news is all about the Son of God. St John tells us at the end of his gospel that everything he has written down has been for one purpose, and one purpose alone; these things have been written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God and that believing this you may have life through his name. When you think about it then, we’ve been given some hefty hints at what our answer should be, and yet when we come to that moment how do we feel about our answer? Do we offer a bold and strident affirmation, or do we hold back and hesitate?

I wonder what Jesus himself was thinking when he asked the question, and have we understood properly what he was looking for in our answer? When Peter gives his answer, you are the Christ the Son of the living God, Jesus gives him a blessing. It’s a word we’ve heard Jesus use before. Blessed are the poor in spirit, the gentle, those who mourn, those of purity of heart, those who show mercy, who work for justice and peace, those who hunger for what is right. But those who are persecuted in the cause of right are also blessed and it is as if Jesus is hinting at the trauma that is to come and of which he will himself undergo.

Jesus is the one who brings about the coming of the kingdom of heaven, in which the seed of God’s word is sown into our very being. He has told the people through his teaching and his parables that he is the word of God and that his word and his action through his passion, must be the means through which the love of God is made real. No-one comes to the Father except through me is what St John records in his gospel. I am the way, the truth and the life. Our affirmation of Jesus as Son of the living God must contain within it an understanding of all that is revealed to us through Jesus. Not just in the happy, feel-good experiences of our lives but also in the harsh and cutting moments too, because in the world the way can be painful, the truth sometimes be disturbing and the life often tough and challenging. So let us be bold in our assertion of Jesus as Son of the living God, but also let us be understanding of what this all means in our lives and in the lives of those around us.

The Universal Call to love

Not long ago we read in the gospel the words of Jesus telling us: Come to me all you who labour and are overburdened, and I will give you rest. Shoulder my yoke and learn from me for I am humble and gentle in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. So here in a strange encounter with a non-Jew the initial response of Jesus seems harsh and uncompassionate. Can it really be so?

I wonder if reading this story, we hear echoes of that other story from the gospel of John, of the meeting between Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well. Although superficially they are different, I think that both have at their heart the act bringing a gentile to faith, someone who at the outset was perhaps ambivalent and undecided about who Jesus is, but who in the end, through a journey of encounter are brought to true knowledge and belief in him. This is after all, how Jesus responds to us when we approach him. He recognises the unique circumstances of each one of us and he deals with them according to their needs.

In their encounter with Jesus both women address him as “sir”. There is no inkling of anything other than here is a person who can help me. The Canaanite woman wants relief from the trials she is enduring because of the sickness of her daughter, and the Samaritan wants relief from the daily trudge back and forth to the well to collect water. The disciples in both encounters become agitated and impatient with Jesus and try and get him to move along but he knows what he is doing, and he brings the women to understanding and faith, through a series of back-and-forth conversations which result in each of them ultimately professing him as “Lord” and “Messiah”. He brings out of them both, a profession of faith that is profound and life enhancing. So rather than seeing Jesus’ initial response to the Canaanite woman as being harsh and cold, by first ignoring her request and then by saying what he does, he generates from her a response which opens in her a living faith. Similarly with the Samaritan woman, Jesus, intuitively aware of her past, helps her to deal with her circumstances, enabling her to profess him as Christ.

So those words of Jesus at the beginning of this piece are not negated but totally endorsed by what happens to both women. They have come to him and have not been turned away. Rather they have come to him seeking a solution for a very human problem and have through his universal love truly found his divine rest for their souls.

All at Sea

I‘ve no real experience of sailing. The only boats I have been in are ferries, the only water crossed has been the Irish Sea and the English Channel and thankfully the crossings were calm enough to allow a period on deck, viewing the waves as the ship made its passage. Of course, that’s not to say there wasn’t any swell, there was, and it was enough to make you realise the might and the power of the sea and of what enormous forces lie within. Today’s gospel certainly brings out that sense of strength when we are told that the disciples, hardened fishermen as they were, struggled to manage their boat as the sea was whipped up by a strong headwind. What though is going on here, since what follows is a very strange twist. In the midst of their trying to maintain a true course they see a vision of someone coming towards them walking on the sea.

Time, context, place and space suddenly seem to be fluid, like the sea itself,
chaotic and intangible. The natural order of things no longer applies, and fear grips them. The vision becomes ghostly and incomprehensible. Is their world about to engulf them and swallow them up? Suddenly familiar words are heard “It is I! Do not be afraid”. They reassure Peter and he responds to them and boldly steps out into the chaos, but his instincts are fragile, and he recoils, feeling himself submerging into a nightmare, shouting at the top of his voice “Lord, save me”. A hand grasps him, and suddenly he is face to face with Jesus and all is calm and serene.
What can we say about this moment. For Peter the words evoke an experience of deep spiritual significance with echoes and resonances of events to come and of events past. At his call in Luke’s gospel, Jesus is in Peter’s boat and Peter says to him “Leave me, Lord I am a sinful man”. Later Matthew will tell of Peter’s dramatic proclamation of faith in Jesus as the “Christ, the Son of the living God” juxtaposed today with Jesus’ describing him as a “man of little faith”. I think what we are being offered in this drama at sea is the very human drama of Peter’s discipleship. How is he to understand his calling to leadership in the light of the frailties that inhabit his character and bubble up to the surface when a storm breaks? We find the answer at the end of John’s gospel, when Jesus and Peter are together on the beach. At this moment all those strands of context, time, space and place come together not adhering in a ghostly vision, but in the reality of the trust the Risen Jesus places in Peter to lead the flock. A trust that will give him the strength and courage to live out his apostleship which Jesus first saw in him. “Do you love me more than these others?” “You know everything Lord. You know I love you... Feed my sheep.”

Thinking about Desire

It is fascinating to see how Jesus taps into the heart of human desire. It seems that desire is an essential part of our human make-up and like all things human it functions on two different levels; the subconscious and the conscious. Subconscious desires may or may not be the motivation and influence that drive our conscious ones, I suppose you need to be a psychologist to get to the bottom of that, but Jesus is exploring the psyche of the human mind when he compares the kingdom to sought-after hidden treasure or pearls of great value.

Each of us has, in our minds, desired something that at the time, seemed beyond our wildest dreams. We may have dismissed such thoughts as irrational and impossible, but the fact that such thoughts come into our minds signal to us an elemental character of our nature. We look at ourselves and at our condition, and we wonder: what if? Clearly our desires change as we grow, the desires we have as young children being so different from those we have as adults, which in their turn evolve as we mature. Where though is Jesus guiding us in making these statements about desire?

We often believe that there is an insurmountable difference between what we can realistically desire and how we can achieve our desire. We may desire “world peace” but what is the point of such a desire, when my ability to make any impact on such a desire is you may think impossible. But look at the parables and see what is being said. The goal or the desire which is the subject of the parables, has been found, but the parables don’t end with any idle speculation. On the contrary, both the discoverer of the treasure, and the merchant, go off and make every effort to ensure that they are going to possess what they’ve found. “Now wait a minute” I hear you say. “It’s one thing to speak about matching and achieving desire in a parable, but quite another to do the same thing in reality.” Well, granted yes, but the point being made relates the one with the other, and consequently with our response. The gift on offer, the object of our desire, is the immeasurable treasure of God’s love, and our response has to be a wholehearted one, in which we recognise the obligation that we have as disciples. Desire doesn’t end with possession but as Jesus says with things new and old. Acquiring the treasure should change us, bringing a new dimension into our discipleship. Driving us to see our lives as conduits of God’s love, through which is channelled the Spirit’s gifts to the world, gifts of consolation, mercy, compassion and yes, even world peace, all we have to do is desire it and be the disciples we are called to be. 

Living our new life in Christ

Last week we began our baptism course, and we have ten couples who came along to receive help and instruction to prepare them for the task of passing on the faith to their children. Baptism is the first of the sacraments. You cannot receive the other sacraments unless you have been baptised. Understanding the meaning of baptism is therefore essential to opening the doorway to faith. Once we have grasped the message which baptism offers, our body and soul are united into the new life of the risen Christ, and this new life which we speak of is nothing other than the eternal life to which Jesus calls us.

Putting it in these terms can sometimes come as a bit of a shock. How can we
already be living our eternal life? Isn’t eternal life supposed to start when we die? Well listen to what St Paul says in today’s second reading: when we were baptised we went into the tomb with him (Jesus) and joined him in death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the Father’s glory, we too might live a new life. In
essence what St Paul means is that our baptism becomes the moment when our eternal life begins. We have become a new creation and we are to be considered alive for God in Jesus Christ. I think that this is such an important concept that we should take time to consider what it means and implies for each one of us who are baptised.

By virtue of our baptism, we are all now children of God, brothers and sisters in Christ. We see ourselves as bound through grace to Jesus and to one another. The role we take on as family is to christify the world. The great document of the 2nd Vatican Council, Lumen Gentium states: through baptism we are formed in the
likeness of Christ, and we are therefore compelled to manifest the kingdom in the way we live out our lives. As brothers, sisters and parents, the greatest way in which we can achieve this is by teaching our children the example of love which Jesus brings into the world. This is what the Council spoke of as the universal call to holiness.

Family life is integral to this concept of holiness. If families see in their make up a participation in this action of living out their baptismal grace within the framework of their relationships between mother, father and child, then the work of the Church, which is the body of Christ on earth, becomes the vehicle of witnessing this holiness. The sacrament of Baptism starts the engine which drives the vehicle and at the same time the other sacraments are the eternal fuel which sustain the engine and keep the vehicle running. Let us pray for our parents and their children as they begin their work. 

A Call to Divine Service

“Do not be afraid” - there’s that phrase again as it begins this week’s gospel reading. We hear it spoken so often in the scriptures and yet do we really hear its words and understand its meaning? Often it is spoken when an encounter occurs between God and humanity, when for example Gabriel appears to Mary to tell her what is going to take place to her. So, when Jesus says it to his apostles in today’s Gospel, what is the divine encounter which is about to take place?

Last week, Jesus called us to become labourers in the harvest, and he gave us our instructions for what to do and how our labour was to be administered. Have we reflected on what it implies for us? Recall those four tasks Jesus names; to cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the leper, cast our devils. Have we taken on board the awesome nature of what they convey? If we approach them simply as frightening realities, then we are not going to be able to tackle them. If we think that the prospect of doing such things either overwhelms us or fills us with trepidation, leaving us frozen, then we are not listening properly to Jesus’ words. Perhaps we’ve covered up our ears and have failed to listen in a way which uncovers the potential that lies within the heart of each one of us to love in the way that Jesus calls us to love. If we understand the divine encounter that takes place when we open ourselves up to his call, if we hear that call not as a frightening closing down of our humanity, but as a beautiful awakening of the value of our character and its capacity to serve and heal, then each one of us suddenly becomes aware of something extraordinary: nothing less than the value that is inherent in every person, or as Jesus puts it – every hair on your head has been counted.

Such an encounter with Jesus thus raises the work of the harvest to a different order. Those four deeds are no longer beyond our capabilities because we see in them something beautiful, something true and something good. in other words, something of God. We see in them the spark of the divine life which becomes incarnate and raised up. It is a call to take up the work of divine service which is made visible in and among each one of us. We do it in our homes, our parishes, our schools, our workplaces because this is where the harvest is to be gathered in. This is our work and through it we declare ourselves for Christ, who will sacralise this work and present it to the Father

From Disciples to Apostles

Can you name them all without referencing the gospels? Most of us can manage the first four: Simon, Andrew, James, and John and then we must think a bit harder. Ah yes, Matthew the gospel writer, and doubting Thomas perhaps, and then Judas of course who betrayed Jesus, but after then things get a little hazy. Well, seven’s not bad, but the other five can we name them? Well, there’s another Simon, and another James, a Bartholomew, a Philip, and a Thaddeus. This final quintet hardly gets another mention in the gospels so its not surprising we overlook them, but their lack of mention doesn’t diminish the importance of their status. These were people who heard the call of Jesus and felt the power of his message and it caused them to change the course of their lives and by consequence our lives to.

We all know the story of the call of Simon and Andrew, James and John very well. Matthew’s call is also recorded, but the circumstances of the call of the others remains unknown. All we can assume is that they must have been members of the “large crowds” who followed Jesus, from the start of his ministry in Galilee, to his passion, death and resurrection in Jerusalem. In so doing, they would become designated “disciples”, a word which denotes an active engagement with a teacher or leader. A supporter and adherent who helps in the proclamation of the master’s message. However, we know that there was a deeper reality at work here because Jesus constantly laid out the requirements of discipleship for his followers, stressing that if you want to be a disciple of his then you must take up your cross each day and follow him. Such a demanding condition would clearly make would be disciples think long and hard before committing to this calling.

But now in the thick of their discipleship their roles are dramatically changed. Their discipleship receives an added dimension. They are given a commission in which the living heart of their calling is made dramatically present to them. The cross, which they were told they must carry as a mark of discipleship, is made real by virtue of the task they are given as apostles; go and proclaim that the kingdom of heaven is close at hand. This is the ultimate reality, to make the kingdom present and the immensity of the task is exemplified in the series of tasks they are given. Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, drive out demons. Jesus annunciates the scope of the task he is giving them and at the same time predicts the many obstacles they will encounter, not least the spectre of betrayal; the impact of which will become all too self-evident to them.

Proclaiming the kingdom is an awesome task, as all the apostles, each in their own way discovered. For one his fate was tragic, for the majority, their fate was martyrdom and tradition relates that only one died a natural death. As his disciples today, may our following of Jesus make us worthy of our calling.

This Precious Gift

This weekend we celebrate the great Solemnity of Corpus Christi, the Body and Blood of Jesus. It is also the day when ninety-two of our children will make their First Holy Communion, and we pray for them and for their families. They have prepared long and hard for this day and we hope it will be an occasion in which their faith and their understanding of the real presence of Jesus in this most precious of sacraments is deepened and more fully appreciated.

My mind on this day often goes to the gospel account of Jesus telling the disciples that unless you become like little children you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven. Notice how Jesus doesn’t specify or say anything about age when he mentions the children. What he wants us to understand and appreciate is something more, something deeper about the kingdom and its centrality to our lives and the best way we can grasp this is by changing our whole perception of how our relationship with Jesus and thereby with the kingdom is viewed. As we know, children are open and loving and quite willing to take things on trust, not in any naïve or unreasoned way, but within an experience of generosity and loving kindness, which is established by coming to both knowledge and truth about the person who reaches out to them. These realities are the building block of the kingdom, and they are laid upon that foundation stone of Jesus. Where do we see this at work? In the lives of people who take the living Jesus into their hearts. People who receive the fulness of his sacramental body and blood as their ‘food for the journey’ and who allow his loving presence to mould and shape the pattern of their lives.

Recall the disciples who were at table in the presence of that stranger at Emmaus. Here is the example par excellence that renders all we need to help understand the eucharist as an image of vibrancy and joy. We see in these two characters a snapshot of how our lives can often seem devoid of hope. Yet it is in the breaking of bread that their eyes are opened so that they recognise him, their hope revived, and their joy reignited. They have turned into children of the kingdom, their faces alight with new expectation, their bodies reinvigorated, their minds cleared of any doubt about what they have experienced. The Risen Jesus is present with them! Renewed and filled with the bread of life they truly are companions – sharers of and partakers in the bread that is the body and blood of the Risen Lord. They go back, no longer disillusioned and downcast, but as kingdom makers.

May our hearts be similarly renewed and revitalised now, on this day and in the weeks ahead, Sunday after Sunday. We all come to the table as children to be fed, for the cup we bless, is a communion with the blood of Christ, and the bread we break, is a communion with the body of Christ.

The Trinity of Love

Today’s second reading from St Paul, contains his last sentence in his correspondence with the Church of Corinth. His relationship with his community at Corinth had at times been a fractious one, encompassing a whole set of different emotions and experiences. It ranged from a deep and personal concern and love for his flock, to a sense of shame and anger for what he felt was their failure to grasp the immensity and importance of what he was preaching to them about Jesus Christ. Here though in this last sentence of what became his second letter to the Corinthians, we find a truly trinitarian grasp of the reality of God, present in the heart of all that he preached to them.

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all. It is a beautiful sentence with which to conclude his whole understanding of the message he offered. A three-fold summation of what God is and of how God is made manifest. If we look at the words in bold type and examine them, we too can appreciate and deepen our own understanding of what the Trinity actually means.

In speaking about Jesus, Paul uses the word karis which has been translated as grace or charity. Instinctively we know what it conveys. Someone who is charitable is generous, considerate and doesn’t count the cost. Applying it to the person of Jesus expresses his nature as the one who offers himself totally and in obedience to the needs of others. In describing God’s love, Paul uses the word agape, a word which carries within it the image of an oblative outpouring of goodness. God is total love. A love that is to be given away to allow more love to be generated. Finally, the Holy Spirit is categorised as the one who creates koinonia, fellowship or as we call it community. The Spirit is the binding force that forges together all that is generous and loving within a framework of abundant and total giving. What Paul is doing is urging his fellow disciples in Corinth to be configured as Father, Son and Spirit are, and to live out their discipleship accordingly.

Are we able to accept a similar ideal? If we are, then the Trinity is no longer a mystical enigma that remains beyond our understanding, but instead a tangible reality that through our encounter with grace of Jesus Christ, enables us to embrace the love of the Father in the fellowship of the Spirit. This is our active participation in the life of the Trinity through our relationships, in our families and within our parishes and workplaces. It is a wonderful witness of faith alive in our world. It is the Trinity of love.