13th Sunday of Ordinary Time - Year B

Wisdom 1:13-15; 2:23-242 Corinthians 8:7.9.13-15Mark 5:21-43

Wherever Jesus went he was sought out by individuals and crowds and no wonder - Jesus had power; power to feed the hungry, power to restore sight and hearing, power to cure the crippled, to set the demon-possessed free, power over wind and sea, power to forgive sin, and power to raise the dead. Jesus had power to set us free from the two realities which we humans most fear - suffering and death.

Today again the Gospel insists on the milling crowds. They sought him out and pressed closely round him, each eager to get close enough to secure some blessing from this astonishing Teacher and Healer.

A synagogue official desperate for his daughter’s welfare and a woman suffering a haemorrhage succeed in reaching the Lord. These two represent each one of us while the crowds represent the whole of poor, struggling, helpless humanity.

I love the way Mark describes the woman’s plight: Now there was a woman who suffered a haemorrhage for twelve years; after long and painful treatment under various doctors, she had spent all she had without being any the better for it, in fact, she was getting worse.

Each phrase of the sentence is another link in the chain binding this poor woman to her desperate situation.

Now there was a woman who suffered a haemorrhage
for twelve years;
after long
and painful
treatment
under various doctors,
she had spent all she had
without being any the better for it,
in fact,
she was getting worse.

Jairus, too, is in an awful predicament. He is braver than the woman and approaches Jesus directly. His daughter is about to die. Aren’t we all?

He fell at his feet and pleaded with him earnestly, saying, `My little daughter is desperately sick. Do come and lay your hands on her to make her better and save her life.'

Death was never God's plan for us, and neither was its prelude, suffering. As the first reading tells us: Death was not God's doing, he takes no pleasure in the extinction of the living ... it was the devil's envy that brought death into the world ... Both suffering and death entered the world because mankind, through the temptation of the devil, turned away from God and this turning away had dire consequences, one of the worst of which was that we refuse to take responsibility for our sin. So we blame everyone except ourselves – [Adam] replied, 'It was the woman you put with me….' and [Eve] replied, 'The serpent tempted me …'. (Genesis 3:12)

And some hospital patients will say: 'Why is God doing this to me?'

We accuse God of failing us because he doesn't just simply take it all away, make it all better, fix it, which, of course, is precisely what he has done and in a way which wonderfully satisfies both mercy and justice.

Jesus took upon himself the very scourge we ourselves brought into the world through Original Sin. He took upon himself suffering and death and made them a path to eternal life for those who follow his steps. In other words, the very suffering and death which led to our ultimate destruction now leads to eternal life - but we have to believe!

This is what is so singular about Jairus and the woman with the haemorrhage – they both really believe. In fact, the power of their faith stands in stark contrast to their powerlessness over the circumstances of their lives. It is this faith which touches Jesus and moves him to grant their wishes.

The miracles of Jesus never failed to astonish the crowds and made them even more eager to be near him. For us, who read of these miracles our faith in the Lord grows too. For us they are signs, signs of what is awaiting our faith when we reach our heavenly homeland. His earthly miracles were meant precisely to teach us to believe that the same wonders would one day, unfailingly, be worked for us.

Occasionally our faith is renewed by reports of contemporary miracles at Lourdes or some other shrine. I occasionally meet sick or dying people who suffer cruel pains but who jokingly reassure me it will all be made good in heaven. One lady who lost both feet through diabetes said smilingly ‘Don’t worry, Father, I’ll get a new set when I reach heaven'.

Jesus invites us to a faith which transcends present suffering and future death. He invites us to the peace and joy of total faith in a future which is in his loving hands. No matter what we may suffer, even death, he invites us, not to fear, but to rejoice and trust in him.

12th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year B

Job 38:1,8-11; 2 Corinthians 5:14-17; Mark 4:35-41

Jesus came to lead his followers to his Father’s Kingdom. His concern was to make them spiritual men and to ground their spirituality in the truth.

Already we must pause and take note that many people claim to be spiritual, even deeply spiritual, but their spirituality has been somehow ambushed by false teaching, human teaching, and actually leads nowhere. I recall a woman who asked me to attend her sick husband who, she claimed, was deeply spiritual. It turned out he studied at some length the Star Signs column that appeared in the daily paper. It all seemed to begin and end there.

Jesus’ mission was to bring mankind to the fullness of truth; no easy task.

To open the eyes of a man born blind was far easier than opening the stubborn or obtuse eyes of those among whom he walked. It seems that he failed with some, but his genuine followers soon began to learn that the Kingdom of God was among them. And so, as they accompanied their Master from village to village, heard his instruction and witnessed his actions, they began to see that he was the Teacher of the Truth they longed to learn. They opened their hearts and minds to him and learned to trust him, though not without doing violence to their own preconceptions.

Jesus always seemed to be catching them by surprise. It was as if, in their walk with him along the familiar pathways of their world, he would, every now and then, and unexpectedly, nudge them off the track into the rough terrain of the unknown. In this respect Jesus would have been a most disconcerting companion to travel with. Just when everything is going so well he says: Let us cross over to the other side. Oh dear! What’s he up to now? Couldn’t he have waited till morning? Doesn’t he see there is a storm brewing?

Jesus’ whole aim was to show them who he was and that he had been sent to bring them to God. When he fed the five thousand with five loaves and two fish, when he walked on the water, when he healed the cripple with a word or the haemorrhaging woman simply by allowing her to touch him, he was showing himself to be the Lord, the one God, walking in their midst as a man.

If the Apostles were slow to catch on we should be grateful for the mirror they hold up to us. We cling to the material world whose comforting solidity directly under our feet seems far more real than the promises of the Spirit. What is the eternal measured against the here and now? What is faith in God compared to these gigantic waves breaking into the tiny boat? Are these waves the truth, or is it the sleeping Jesus in the stern?

So Jesus rebukes the waves and then he rebukes his anxious disciples. Quiet now! Be calm! The command could be equally applied to his companions in the boat but Jesus speaks it to the turbulent sea.

To his Apostles he asks a question which should resonate in each one of us present here today because it is actually addressed to each one of us: Why are you so frightened?

The Apostles might have answered, ‘Well, Lord, you saw the size of the waves and you saw the size of the boat and you know we were on the point of sinking.’ And Jesus might have said ‘Yes, I did. So why are you so frightened?’

When the promises of Jesus meet the concrete circumstances of the world we live in we all need to make this choice – where is our true safety? Where is our true life?

I spoke to a woman once who was about to have an abortion. She told me there was nothing wrong with the baby but she was afraid because the doctors had told her there was a serious risk she and the child might die if she proceeded. I could almost see the gigantic waves pounding her little boat. What would the Lord have said? Most certainly he would have asked: Why are you so frightened?

Jesus plainly said: For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it (Mtt 6:25). This is not just a nice thing to say, it is the truth, the truth which we are all called to live.

The martyrs for the faith were warned not of the risks, but of what would most certainly happen; they would be shot, beheaded, hanged, crucified, eaten by animals, and so on. They joyfully made their choice and were not frightened by suffering or death. They put their trust in Jesus.

Jesus asks his student Apostles: How is it that you have no faith? He had nudged them off the path into new territory and had discovered their faith was not sufficient. This is a discovery we all make from time to time and we should not be ashamed if the experience leads to a deepening of trust.

They were filled with awe and said to one another, ‘Who can this be? Even the wind and the sea obey him.’ One thing is for sure, the Apostles, and hopefully we, have learned that where the Lord is, there is nothing to be afraid of.

A thought on Lectio Divina

The best fruit of
reading,
meditating on,
praying,
and contemplating
the Word of God
is that
we begin
to believe it.

The Body and Blood of Christ - Year B

Deuteronomy 8:2-3. 14-16; 1Corinthians 10:16-17; John 6:51-58

One of the more difficult tasks faced by a hospital chaplain is the careful discernment of where a patient is in his or her relationship to the Church, and whether it is appropriate for Holy Communion to be offered. The Church's laws clearly state that if a person is conscious of grave sin it should be absolved in sacramental Confession before that person receives Holy Communion. This is what the Catechism actually says: 1385 Anyone conscious of a grave sin must receive the sacrament of Reconciliation before coming to communion.

A large number of Catholics seem to have totally forgotten this very serious requirement. In the wards I am regularly asked for Holy Communion by patients who have not practised their faith for many years. When patients in neighbouring beds, as well as their visitors, are listening in on the conversation things can get very delicate. But it's a catechesis moment. The priest has to bite the bullet and present the teaching of the Church as clearly, fully, and lovingly as he can.

I've found it's usually best not to tackle the question head on but to take the conversation back a few steps and somehow invite the patient to speak of his relationship to the Church. A question like 'So which parish are you from?' or 'Do you come from Sydney or are you from the country?' will often initiate a lengthy conversation which actually ends with the patient admitting they have been away from the Church and that 'maybe I should go to confession first'. Of course, not all exchanges end so happily and yet, having said that, very few end unhappily. Many patients, when a clear explanation is given, will say 'Father, I actually knew all that, it's what I was taught as a child, but some people tell me things have changed.'

Why do you think the Church is so careful about the worthy reception of Holy Communion, remembering, of course, that on one level not one of us is really worthy? Some people never go to Holy Communion because they say they are not worthy and yet are not conscious of grave sin. This is simply a sad scrupulosity which is not pleasing to God. These people are trying to be more humble or more holy than Christ and his Church want them to be. Not a good way to go. Again let me quote the Catechism:

1388 It is in keeping with the very meaning of the Eucharist that the faithful, if they have the required dispositions, receive communion when they participate in the Mass. As the Second Vatican Council says: "That more perfect form of participation in the Mass whereby the faithful, after the priest's communion, receive the Lord's Body from the same sacrifice, is warmly recommended."

So, to go back to my question, why do you think the Church is so careful about the worthy reception of Holy Communion?

St Paul gives us a very clear answer: Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord. Let a man examine himself, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For any one who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment upon himself. (1Cor 11:27-29)

The imperatives are clear; we must 1. examine ourselves beforehand, 2. discern the body, and 3. receive in a worthy manner.

Discerning the body is the core issue. We'll let the Catechism speak again:

1376 ... "Because Christ our Redeemer said that it was truly his body that he was offering under the species of bread, it has always been the conviction of the Church of God ... that by the consecration of the bread and wine there takes place a change of the whole substance of the bread into the substance of the body of Christ our Lord and of the whole substance of the wine into the substance of his blood. This change the holy Catholic Church has fittingly and properly called transubstantiation."

In simple summary we can say that the bread and wine truly become Christ. It is not that Jesus lives or exists 'in' the bread and wine, but that the bread and wine truly become Jesus. This means that when you approach the altar and hold out your tongue or your hands, you receive Jesus - Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity - the whole Christ, into your own body.

The person who accepts this teaching has 'discerned the body' and will examine himself to make sure he is not conscious of grave sin. If he is, then he will not receive communion until this sin has been forgiven in the sacrament of Reconciliation. A quick act of sorrow is not enough when Reconciliaton is available, and in Australia it generally is, even if you have to wait a few days or longer to get there. Mortal sin is only forgiven by virtue of the sacrament of Confession and we are obliged to go. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise!

The final link in the chain is, of course, the acknowledgment that we are indeed conscious of mortal sin. This always makes people unconfortable, especially if for some years they have believed that what they were doing was not a mortal sin. It is not my intention to draw up, yet again, a long list of common areas of grave sin. Let me content myself with just one - the solemn obligation we have to attend Mass each Sunday (or Saturday evening).

The Catechism teaches: 2181 The Sunday Eucharist is the foundation and confirmation of all Christian practice. For this reason the faithful are obliged to participate in the Eucharist on days of obligation, unless excused for a serious reason (for example, illness, the care of infants) or dispensed by their own pastor. Those who deliberately fail in this obligation commit a grave sin.

It's a shame a priest like me should find himself obliged on a wonderful feastday like today to restrict himself mainly to speaking about abuses of the Sacrament rather than the wonderful gift that it is, the privilege of receiving it, and the extraordinary graces which flow from receiving it worthily. At the moment it seems this is how it must be.

I ask everyone here to follow St Paul's advice and examine yourselves. Do you believe that what you are about to receive is truly the Lord himself? Have you examined yourself as to your preparedness for this gift? Are you free from grave sin? Have you fasted for an hour before receiving communion?

If you are not able to receive worthily today, don't receive! Go to Confession! I'm available any time you care to approach me, if the regular times don't suit. I will welcome you with great gladness.

Trinity Sunday - Year B

Deuteronomy 4:32-34, 39-40; Romans 8:14-17; Matthew 28:16-20

A Moslem patient in the hospital told me that we Christians worship three gods. Wary of starting debates in the ward I had no real answer apart from saying 'No, we don't', but that sounded rather lame. It made me think though, as it caught me totally unawares, and I didn't like that helpless feeling which suddenly swept over me.

Undoubtedly the faith he belonged to worshipped only one God. We Christians say we worship only one God but then, do we contradict ourselves when we call him Father, Son, and Holy Spirit?

Taking into account that I actually know very little about Islam I nevertheless began reflecting and trying to imagine what it would be like to be the God, the one God, of that hospital patient.

To begin with I imagined I would be all alone. Undoubtedly I could create what I liked and have a relationship with my creatures, but what if I didn't create anything? What if I were up there in heaven - all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving and - all alone? What would I do with myself all day? What would I do with my love? For all eternity I would be alone. And even if I did create creatures to love, I would be, in a very real sense, dependent on them in order to be able to love. I would be a dependent God.

Now I don’t know how far this reasoning is off the mark for the Moslem conception of God, and I will certainly be asking lots of questions of the Moslem chaplain when I meet him, but at least that patient’s accusation led me to question more deeply the Christian conception of God.

It struck me that there is an essential difference in the way Christians see God. Perhaps, in hindsight, I could have replied to that man, "You worship a God who can only love himself, we have a God who loves within himself; a God who is Love."

The Trinitarian God, the God of the Christians, is a God who contains within himself, in fact, who is within himself a relationship of love, a communion of love. The Father, the Source of Life, loves his only and eternally begotten Son; the Son loves the Father in return and this love between the two divine Persons is the Holy Spirit, eternally generated. The Father is the one God. The Son is the one God. The Holy Spirit is the one God.

Today the Entrance Antiphon joyfully declares: Blessed be God the Father and his only-begotten Son and the Holy Spirit: for he has shown that he loves us.

…for he has shown that he loves us. How wonderful! The God who is Love loves us; we are loved by Love. Who can fathom this truth? Who can give adequate praise and thanks to the God of Love? He has created us in love, he has redeemed us in love, he has destined us for love. The Preface of Marriage III puts it succinctly:

Love is man’s origin,
love is his constant calling,
love is his fulfilment in heaven.

The God who is a communion of love reveals to us most clearly in Jesus that he made us for this communion which constantly tugs at our hearts, inviting us, drawing us with its ceaseless invitation to surrender - and become love. Listen again to the second Opening Prayer of today’s Mass:

God, we praise you:Father all-powerful, Christ Lord and Saviour, Spirit of love.
You reveal yourself in the depths of our being,
drawing us to share in your life and your love.

The love of the Father has sent us, his children, his only-begotten Son who won for us the ultimate gift, the Spirit of love, which he sent into our hearts to make us cry out: Abba, Father.

This interior call to communion with our Creator is at the same time gift. It is the daily guarantee of his love for us and gives direction and meaning to our every moment. The return he asks is not only that we love him but that we love one another. This, indeed, is the decisive yes we must arrive at.

Trinitarian love excludes no part of what it has created; the divine mercy continues to reach out to our freedom and we must do likewise to all in our lives and communities. In a practical way this means unrelenting forgiveness towards those who offend us, as well as unrelenting hope that those who at present seem to reject the love of God may one day happily yield to it.