Search

Results

Exploring the word

18 Oct 2015 - Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

"The church must be missionary.” So says the Catechism (n. 851) in a terse echo of the Great Commission of Jesus: Go and make disciples of all nations. We’re reminded on this World Mission Sunday that church isn’t primarily a place where we come to pray, or even a happy assembly of the already convinced. Church is a community “on a mission from God,” as the Blues Brothers would say. That mission is to be the “universal sacrament of salvation” (Lumen Gentium)—which we can’t be sitting on our hands. Here’s the rub: It’s hard for most of us to put our love into a void. We love what we know and who we know. World Mission Sunday is therefore an easier sell in parishes that have yoked themselves to a more disadvantaged parish across town; support a particular local or global mission with money and supplies; or in fact have sent one of their own out to serve in a foreign country. If your parish hasn’t personally “owned” the missions yet in one of these ways, this is the year to launch such an initiative. Issue the call, find out whose heart is burning, and prepare to be surprised. When my college-grad niece felt a vocation to the missions, she found an organization to accept her but needed to raise money for her training. Approaching her well-heeled parish from which she’d attended 12 years of parochial school, sung in the choir, lectored, taught summer Bible school, she asked permission to make an appeal to the community and was refused. The parish leaders didn’t see what her missionary call had to do with the parish. What a grievous miscalculation! One hopes her awakened faith had everything to do with the formation she received in their midst. Many of us were taught that we come to church to eat and drink. While this is true, it’s even more essential to realize that service goes with our supper. The Table of the Lord is set with a cup of suffering that we agree to share. The first disciples were a little fuzzy on this, and so are we in the early years of our faith. But we can’t stay that way. If the Sunday preaching doesn’t seek to awaken that understanding and sense of purpose, from where else might we expect it to come? Humans are a competitive species. We’re attracted to seats of greatness, and we’re first in line to be annoyed when someone else seeks those same places of honor. In today’s gospel we see two disciples reach for the top and 10 others get into a snit about it. All 12 have missed the point of what Jesus has been saying and doing. Can we put that competitive spirit to good use in our eagerness to serve? Related scripture links Passion predictions in Mark: 8:31-33; 9:30-32; 10:32-34 John and the Hour: John 2:4; 4:21; 5:25; 7:6-8; 16:1-4, 25-33; 17:1-5 Matthew’s sermons: Matt. chs. 5-7; 10, 13; 18; 23-25 Luke’s meals: Luke 5:27-32, 33-35; 6:1-5; 7:33-34, 36-50; 9:10-17; 11:37-53; 12:37-48; 14:1-6, 15-24; 15:23-24; 16:19-30; 17:7-10; 22:7-20; 24:29-32, 41-43 Laying down your life: Luke 9:23-26; John 15:12-15

Authors Alice Camille

discipleship Missionary

Restricted
The inner word

20 Sep 2015 - Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

It’s amazing to think that the disciples were arguing about which of them was the greatest just after Jesus had told them—for the second time—of his Passion to come. The very thing Christ was talking about, the way of lowliness and submission, was the exact opposite of their game of spiritual one-upmanship. To be “first” is to be last—to eliminate, really, the possibility of being first at all. How does this lesson apply to your life?

lowliness submission

Restricted
Exploring the word

19 Jul 2015 - Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

Most of us know the story of Sacred Heart Father Damien de Veuster—or, Damien the Leper. After years of ministering among leprosy sufferers on the island of Molokai’i, Father Damien contracted the disease himself. Recognizing the need for someone to replace him in this difficult assignment after his death, he reached out to Mother Marianne Cope and her band of Franciscan sisters in Honolulu. They were already working among leprosy sufferers isolated at a port hospital on Oahu. We’re all naturally reluctant to expose ourselves to contagion. When it comes to the potentially deadly variety—Ebola, AIDS, leprosy—our hesitation may reach the level of paralyzing fear. Yet when Mother Marianne and her sisters first landed in Hawaii to begin their service among the quarantined, they viewed the ruined, joyless facilities and desperately ill population they inherited and exclaimed: “How much good there is to do here!” Where many could see only impenetrable darkness, these women saw a place to bring their light. According to the Bible, this is what God sees in every wilderness: not vacant wasteland, but a place for flowers to bloom. Not barren desert, but soil waiting for rain. It’s a quiet space for tired disciples to take their rest, for hungry multitudes to be fed. Wilderness is where water can spring from a rock or bread might fall from heaven. Meat can be supplied by a passing flock of quail. To God, wilderness is a clean canvas on which to paint a beautiful future. God sees the potential for light in darkness, for grace to rebound in landscapes full of sin. We might imagine what God sees in South Sudan and Haiti, places where most of us see only starvation and despair. When God looks at countries where diseases are decimating whole populations, does God foresee the power to heal? When God views battlegrounds and bombed cities, does the vision of peace and restoration show through? Does God look into our hardened hearts limited by prejudice and suspicion, and perceive the potential for these hearts of ours to break open with love and welcome? Does God watch the global crisis of climate change and anticipate our discovery of self-control to save our planet—and ourselves? As Jesus views the vast crowd pursuing him around the lake, chasing after miracles and fantasies of an economic or political savior, he doesn’t see deluded masses or leeches in search of a quick fix for their personal problems. He sees sheep in need of shepherding. He sees need and it moves his Sacred Heart. Is it possible for us to begin to view the world’s wilderness of need differently? Not with: “It’s too much! It’s impossible!” But as: “What an opportunity to do good!” Related scripture links Good King Hezekiah: 2 Kings 18:5 The cry of the poor: Job 34:28; Ps. 34:16-18; Prov. 21:13 The parable of the lost sheep: Luke 15:1-7 Gospel shepherds: Matt. 2:6; 9:36; 10:5-6; 15:24; 18:12-14; 25:31-45; 26:31; Mark 14:27; Luke 2:8-20; John 10:1-30; 21:15-19 Jesus will lose none given to him: John 6:37-39

Authors Alice Camille

Service Missionary Wilderness Desert

Restricted
Exploring the word

12 Jul 2015 - Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

Last fall a young woman from our parish, Amanda, volunteered to serve a mission in Albania, the poorest and most neglected of European countries. Albania is a Muslim society, so Amanda’s been missing a familiar Christian context. She missed Christmas and Easter decorations, the sense of a shared celebration. For the amusement of friends back home, she’s been composing an ABC list of things you don’t have on the mission trail. “C” includes churches, Captain Crunch, couches, crèches, candy bars, and Communion reliably on Sundays. “E” includes hearing English spoken. “P” includes peanut butter and her parents. Our young missionary’s deprivations range from the serious to the silly, but they all highlight our spectacularly privileged American lives. The ABCs of the mission trail and its sacrifices are what Jesus offers to the 12 apostles this week. The list in Mark doesn’t always harmonize with mission supplies recorded elsewhere. Mark is softer on missionaries: Those sent get to take a walking stick and wear sandals. Luke nixes the stick and sandals (9:2, 10:4), as does Matthew (10:10). We can imagine the disciples making their own ABCs of deprivation: “P” is for no pillow on which to lay your head. “S” is for no sandals, stick, or guaranteed shelter for the night. Of course, sacrifices are not what missionary service is about. Rabbinic tradition speaks of a figure known as the shaliach: one sent by a person of authority fully invested to do as that person wills. The shaliach perfectly embodies the one who sends him. Jesus echoes this role in saying, “Whoever receives me, receives not me but the One who sent me” (Mark 9:37), and also in the great judgment of the nations: “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these, you did for me” (Matt. 25:40). It’s clear from these sayings that Jesus invests his disciples with the power of the shaliach: not simply to deliver the gospel message far and wide, but to act in the place of Jesus as if we are Jesus! That young missionary friend of ours isn’t just bringing Christian-talk to Albania. Amanda brought her Christ-self there and is sharing that most radiant self with a community that hasn’t met Jesus yet. Our parish sent a donation to the mission house recently, and the reply came swiftly: “Thank you for the money, which can surely be put to good use here. But we are grateful most of all for the gift of Amanda, who is a great light among us.” Which makes me wonder: Since we are all sent, how well do we bring our Christ-selves wherever we go? Do people see simply us, or do they catch a glimpse of the One who sends us? Related scripture links Believe that you will receive: Matt. 17:19-20; Mark 11:22-24; Luke 11:9-13; John 14:12-14 Ask and you shall receive: Matt. 6:25-34; Luke 12:11-12 Taking no offense in Jesus: Luke 7:18-23 Parallel gospels: Matt. 10:1-11:1; Luke 9:1-6 Mission of the 72: Luke 10:1-12, 17-20

Authors Alice Camille

Evangelization sacrifice evangelize Missionary

Restricted
The inner word

12 Jul 2015 - Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

Jesus’ “sending” of the apostles (in Greek: apostolos, “one who is sent”) to extend his mission of healing reflects the missionary strategy of the Early Church: travel light and keep moving, do what is good, and put your trust completely in God. Actually that’s a good approach for Christians of any time and place. Life is a journey, a pilgrimage to holiness. “To take nothing for your journey” brings home the truth that in the end the only thing you really have is God. To have “nothing,” then means to have everything. The less you have, the more you gain. The deepest security lies in not worrying about security. What can you unload from your life to bring you closer to God?

Evangelization Missionary

Restricted
In other words

12 Jul 2015 - Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

Jesus told them, “A prophet has little honor in his hometown, among his relatives, on the streets he played in as a child.” Jesus wasn’t able to do much of anything there—he laid hands on a few sick people and healed them, that’s all. He couldn’t get over their stubbornness. He left and made a circuit of the other villages, teaching. Jesus called the Twelve to him, and sent them out in pairs. He gave them authority and power to deal with the evil opposition. He sent them off with these instructions: “Don’t think you need a lot of extra equipment for this. You are the equipment. No special appeals for funds. Keep it simple. “And no luxury inns. Get a modest place and be content there until you leave. If you’re not welcomed, not listened to, quietly withdraw. Don’t make a scene. Shrug your shoulders and be on your way.” Then they were on the road. They preached with joyful urgency that life can be radically different; right and left they sent the demons packing; they brought wellness to the sick, anointing their bodies, healing their spirits (from Mark 6). Taken from The Message: Catholic/Ecumenical Edition by Eugene Peterson (ACTA Publications, 2014 ); actapublications.com; 800-397-2282.

Evangelization evangelize Missionary

Restricted
Homily stories

12 Jul 2015 - Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

I watch as the kindergarteners walk into church two by two for the school children’s Mass. They make me smile. In the massive gothic church they look even tinier than they are. They are excited, their eyes wide with awe and anticipation. A little bit afraid, they squeeze their partner’s hand tightly. Usually the braver of the two drags the one who is not so adventuresome along. As they walk past me, I hear the rote, “Good morning Father . . . Good morning Father” over and over again, as well as one inevitable, “Good morning God.” I’ll take that as a compliment. It is no surprise that Jesus sends the 12 apostles out two by two. They will need each other’s support as they begin the daunting task of expelling demons. They will need the security of a safe and welcoming place to stay as well as someone else to hold onto. In the same way, the little ones need to feel welcome in church as they begin to understand what their Baptism just a few years earlier will soon ask of them. So, too, we come to church today to be with others we can hold onto as we share our faith this coming week.

Authors Father Dominic Grassi

Companionship Missionary

Restricted
Exploring the word

03 May 2015 - Fifth Sunday of Easter, Cycle B

My neighbor had a lemon tree that supplied enough lemons for the whole block. That tree got cooking by mid-summer and if we didn’t come by to collect our lemons regularly, the owner piled the fruit in a wagon and wheeled it around, knocking on our doors and demanding we take some! A good tree well pruned can bear a lot of fruit. But one year, no one got lemons from that tree. It was the year an ignorant yard worker came too late to do the pruning and clipped off the early blooms of the tree. It was the Summer Without Lemonade for all of us. Some of us are lazy pruners, and that can do another kind of harm. We don’t remove anything, which leads to big woody branches that produce little fruit of inferior quality. Clearly there’s a balance here: prune enough, don’t cut too much, and above all, be timely about it. When it comes to bearing fruit, there is such a thing as too late to act. The church, like all of us, has a history with pruning that errs sometimes in one direction, sometimes in another. Consider the first Christians, who by pruning too close to their comfort zone were fully prepared to sacrifice Paul of Tarsus! Imagine what might have happened if Barnabas hadn’t grabbed the shears and insisted Paul be allowed to remain. Hildegard of Bingen’s abbey was threatened with excommunication, and Sister Mary MacKillop was actually excommunicated. Hildegard is now a Doctor of the church, and MacKillop the first canonized saint of Australia. As Catherine of Siena was dying, she too was under investigation by those who thought her too outspoken. John of the Cross was jailed by his own community, members of whom did not appreciate his reforms of the order. Recall all the holy ones whose superiors thought them too simple-minded for the priesthood: John Vianney, Solanus Casey, Damien de Veuster . . . In other areas, church history was too reluctant to employ the shears. Consider the era of indulgences, when criminal acts could be absolved with the right donation. The title of cardinal or a bishop’s seat could likewise be had by a person of influence. Today Pope Francis suggests that vestiges of the princely era still cling to higher branches within the church hierarchy and could stand a trim. Sadly, none of us can prune history’s miseries away from our legacy: the Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition, witch trials, the handling of the schism with the Orthodox church or the disunity of the Protestant Reformation, the clergy abuse scandals. But we can take responsibility for our own personal deadwood. The word of Christ does the pruning, if we present ourselves fearlessly for the task. Related scripture links Spiritual fruits: Gal. 5:22-23 Love never fails: 1 Cor. 13:8

Authors Alice Camille

submission

Restricted
In other words

03 May 2015 - Fifth Sunday of Easter, Cycle B

"I am the Real Vine and my Father is the Farmer. He cuts off every branch of me that doesn’t bear grapes. And every branch that is grape-bearing he prunes back so it will bear even more. You are already pruned back by the message I have spoken. “Live in me. Make your home in me just as I do in you. In the same way that a branch can’t bear grapes by itself but only by being joined to the vine, you can’t bear fruit unless you are joined with me. “I am the Vine, you are the branches. When you’re joined with me and I with you, the relation intimate and organic, the harvest is sure to be abundant. Separated, you can’t produce a thing. Anyone who separates from me is deadwood, gathered up and thrown on the bonfire. But if you make yourselves at home with me and my words are at home in you, you can be sure that whatever you ask will be listened to and acted upon. This is how my Father shows who he is—when you produce grapes, when you mature as my disciples. “I’ve loved you the way my Father has loved me. Make yourselves at home in my love. If you keep my commands, you’ll remain intimately at home in my love. That’s what I’ve done—kept my Father’s commands and made myself at home in his love. “I’ve told you these things for a purpose: that my joy might be your joy, and your joy wholly mature. This is my command: Love one another the way I loved you. This is the very best way to love. Put your life on the line for your friends. You are my friends when you do the things I command you. I’m no longer calling you servants because servants don’t understand what their master is thinking and planning. No, I’ve named you friends because I’ve let you in on everything I’ve heard from the Father” (from John 15). Taken from The Message: Catholic/Ecumenical Edition by Eugene Peterson (ACTA Publications, 2014 ); actapublications.com; 800-397-2282.

submission

Restricted

← Previous 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 Next →