2nd Sunday of Lent - Year C

Genesis 15:5-12.17-18; Philippians 3:17-4:1; Luke 9:28-36

When I pray the fourth Luminous Mystery each Thursday I always offer it for my enemies - both that they may be changed and that I may be changed. The transformation I pray for is that I, and they, may become more like Christ, the source and goal of all change.

Prayer shows us the need for this change and initiates within us a longing for it to take place. This desire, this longing to be transformed is already a huge step in itself. How many of us cannot even see our need for change let alone have a desire for it? Prayer opens our eyes and lets us see others, and ourselves as they, and we, really are. What an enormous grace!

Many years ago I had the privilege of doing a retreat directed by Sr Briege McKenna OSC and she told me she had this image of me in a large hall talking and laughing with lots of people and Jesus was standing against one of the walls patiently waiting for me to finish. I was having great fun. Finally he came over and took my elbow and led me to a small prayer room where I could be with him in prayer.

The readings this week reminded me of these short but powerful moments with Sr Briege. In the first reading the Lord takes Abraham outside - and in the Gospel Jesus took Peter, James and John with him up the mountain. It's no accident that people often use the phrase surrender to prayer. When we don't go to prayer when we should we are shaking our elbow free and telling the Lord - No! Not now! - and he goes back to the wall to wait patiently.

Whether we realise it or not, every moment of prayer is a response to his personal invitation. It is always God who says 'Come. I want to spend some time with you.'

Why then are we often so slow to surrender? Is it the cold night air which frightens us, or perhaps the climb up the mountain? Certainly prayer always requires a readiness to leave behind our favourite preoccupations and comforts and enter into another world, a world of darkness and faith. St Teresa of Avila refers to prayer as a labour. Sometimes we have to actually and painfully tear ourselves away from what we are doing in order to enter that graced time and place called prayer and occasionally, when we forget what prayer is, we would prefer to be anywhere else rather than at prayer. It is said St Teresa sometimes used to shake her hourglass to make the sand go more quickly.

Prayer is so central, so essential to transformation that is is worth doing badly. Indeed, I believe that it is especially at moments when we find prayer impossibly challenging, dry, unsatisfying and seemingly a waste of time that the greatest transformations are quietly occurring. Peter didn't do all too well on the mountain - fighting sleep and babbling incoherently - but he went, and he stayed awake, and he saw.

This leads me to consider another aspect of prayer which is that in prayer we get to see things we would never see otherwise; God shows us things - about himself, about life, about death, about ourselves.

God took Abraham outside into the dark to show him the stars and make him a promise; Jesus took his three Apostles up the mountain to show them himself and the destiny he was journeying towards. Yet this is in no way a summary of what happened either to Abraham or to the Apostles. Every experience of God, every moment consciously spent in his presence, has reverberations in our life which we will only appreciate in the hereafter. This is because real prayer is never just a God-and-me experience. Another way of saying this is that prayer should always be scriptural.

At first this may be a rather perplexing statement to come to grips with but look at Jesus going up to the mountain to pray to his Father. Suddenly Moses and Elijah appear! Where have they come from? Why are they here? What is going on?

Moses represents the Law, Elijah the prophets. They appear in Jesus' prayer because they are part of the same history of salvation, part of the same story, part of the same prayer as Jesus is making.

We are all part of that prayer - a story much larger than the story of our own life. Peter, James and John found themselves suddenly confronted by the representatives of the Law and the Prophets, the Old Testament, and, whether they realised it at that moment or not, they were the representatives of the New Testament.

This moment of Jesus' intimate communion with the Father in prayer is revealed as prayer set in a rich, unfolding, universal context which embraces all time, all space, and all creatures. In this way the prayer of Jesus offers a paradigm for all mature prayer; it should be scriptural.

Finally, prayer opens us to the future. Abraham had little idea of what lay ahead of him when God spoke his promise. Similarly, Peter, James and John were perplexed and wisely kept silence when the cloud lifted and they were again alone with the Lord. Nevertheless, their experiences inserted into their hearts a confidence and a courage in God which would see them through the many difficulties which lay ahead. Prayer is like that - a meeting with God which prepares us for the next step of our journey.

1st Sunday of Lent - Year C

Deuteronomy 26:4-10; Romans 10:8-13; Luke 4:1-13

The purpose of Lent is to remind us that we are not God and, having renewed us in this awareness, to lead us once again to place all our hope in the one who is. This is what God did to his Chosen People when he led them out of the slavery of Egypt into the wilderness of Sinai. He brought them into the desert where he could speak to their hearts.

In doing this God showed himself to be a good psychologist. As a school teacher I soon learned that if you want to get something through to a naughty child you have to take him away from his classmates and speak to him alone; you have to get his attention.

And so God led his People away from noisy Egypt, with its abundance of food and drink and work, right into the wilderness; a scary place of little food, scant water and savage beasts. Here he would show himself to them and teach them to trust him; no easy task.

When the Egyptians pursued them the People lost faith but God destroyed their enemies. When the water ran out the People lost faith but God gave them pure water from the rock to drink. When the food ran out the People lost faith again but God gave them manna from heaven. When they grew tired of the manna they complained and God gave them quails to eat. When Moses was on the top of Mt Sinai for 40 days and nights the People grew tired of waiting and deserted the God who had saved them and started worshipping a golden calf!

Each time they were unfaithful to him God forgave them, though not always without some punishment. Slowly he taught Israel that their God, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, was a faithful, patient, understanding, forgiving, almighty and eternal God. Above all he wanted them to know that he loved them. In return he wanted the People to love him, and trust him with all their hearts, and to love each another for love of him.

For forty years Israel wandered in the wilderness, climbing the ladder of faith and then shamefully falling back again. Thus the wilderness became:

• a place of temptation and a witness to the weakness, unfaithfulness and disobedience of the People. It became a place of shame and disgrace, a testimony to their failure to believe.

• a place of purification of the People, a place where they learned to forsake false gods and cling only to the one, true God.

• a place of revelation, a place where God revealed himself to his People.

• a place of intimacy (honeymoon). God bound himself to them, much as a groom to his bride.

• a place through which wound the roads leading to the Promised Land.

Jesus is the 'new Israel'. He is led by God into the wilderness where he is tempted for forty days:

- feed yourself
- gain glory for yourself
- take the initiative yourself

Where the Israelites fail Jesus succeeds. Not once does he break faith with God and entirely defeats Satan. After each temptation and against each temptation Jesus recalls Deuteronomy. Jesus is the new, faithful Israel.

We, you and I, face the same temptations as the People, and Jesus, faced; the temptation to 'call the shots', to 'play God'.

How are we doing? How is the 'resistance' going? If you're not having much success the Church suggests - prayer, fasting, almsgiving.

Remember, man, that you are dust, and unto dust you will return.

Ash Wednesday - Year C

Joel 2:12-18; 2 Corinthians 5:20-6:2; Matthew 6:1-6,16-18

By the mere fact that you are here today for this Ash Wednesday Mass I think it’s safe to assume you intend to be serious about Lent this year.

In the first place you have come to Mass. I am well aware that it was much easier for me to get here than it was for so many of you. Good on you: God blesses you.

You have just heard the word of God proclaimed. The word speaks to our hearts and on this day it may be summarised as saying: Come back to me!

In a few moments you will receive the ashes on your forehead in the shape of a cross. You will carry them with you during this busy work day. They, too, will speak to you and say: Remember, don’t forget - the day of your death is approaching!

Then we will celebrate the sacramental memorial of all that Christ did for us in his passion, death and resurrection. At the elevation, as the priest holds up the Sacred Host for all to see, God will say: I love you.

In Holy Communion Jesus will speak to you: Do not be afraid, I give you myself.

Lent is a special time of renewal. Set out eagerly, as the prophet Joel says, with all your heart. During the next forty days:

• Pray with loving attentiveness to the God who sees you.
• Give to those who are poor and who need you.
• Fast from all that tempts you to forget your littleness and need for God.

Don’t be alarmed if you should fail. Get up and keep going.

Make a decision to go to Reconciliation sometime during this season of purification.

Trust that your efforts will be pleasing to the Lord.

Who knows if he will not turn again, will not relent, will not leave a blessing?

6th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year C

Jeremiah 17:5-8; 1 Corinthians 15:12.16-20

Do you ever stop to think that, roughly speaking, nine out of ten Catholics in Australia no longer come to Mass? That's a lot of people! It means that there should be another nine people sitting exactly where you are sitting.

There are many reasons for their absence - the analysts of such things have a lot to say - materialism, individualism, secularism, relativism, and so on and so on. Then there are the scandals, terrible scandals. Confusion and anger are everywhere; people are 'fed up' say the experts.

Which leaves us with a question, a rather interesting question: Why are you still here? Why am I still here?

What is it that keeps us coming to Church every Sunday? Why are we still hopeful and faithful? Why is it that the terrible spiritual drought which is sweeping the Western world has overlooked us? Are we the silly ten percent? Are we blind to the signs of the times? Have we been left behind while the modern world journeys on to a glorious future?

Jeremiah offers us a number of images today but one stands out amongst the others - the image of a tree planted by a running stream. Actually, it's not a tree, it's a man, or if you prefer, a woman. This tree is an image of a true disciple. Although there is drought and devastation all around, it stands quietly by the waterside, its foliage green, its branches full of fruit. The secret of its vigour lies hidden from those who have no eyes for what is good.

It thrusts its roots to the stream.

'So how do we get to be like that tree?' I hear you ask. 'Where is that water? Where is that sunny river bank where I can plant myself and grow to mature holiness? I want to be a real disciple, I want to be like Jesus!'

The answer is as simple as it is challenging - the Church.

The Church is the sheepfold protected by the Shepherd, it is the Bride beloved of the Bridegroom, it is the New Israel formed on the Cross, it is People of God empowered by the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. The Church is the river of running water beside which we are planted. Jesus saves us in the Church.

For many and varied reasons, as well as just ignorance, it seems the ninety percent who should be present here today no longer really believe that the Church is necessary and have turned their backs on it. But like it or not, when we turn our backs on the Church we turn our backs on Christ, and on the one who sent him.

This truth would cause us all to despair if it were not for another very consoling truth: Christ never turns his back on us. There is always room for hope, but no room at all for complacency.

So here's some free advice for wannabe healthy trees:

• Believe what the Church believes and only what the Church believes. Don't add; don't subtract. When we do this we 'unplant' ourselves; we pull ourselves up by the roots and can no longer drink the cool water of Christ's truth.

• Get to know your faith. I Googled 'tree near water' and came up with a huge dead tree standing beside a beautiful river. Getting to know your faith is equivalent to 'thrusting your roots to the stream'. If you don't know your faith, if you can't explain it to others, you haven't yet 'thrust your roots' down and are at grave risk when the drought comes.

• Be scrupulously faithful to Sunday Mass. Don't let anything except the most major circumstances keep you from your Sunday Mass. To miss Mass for no good reason is not only to dig up the tree but to cut it into pieces.

• Make a habit of regular Confession to the priest. So many church-going Catholics today excuse themselves from face to face Confession of their mortal sins by saying 'it's not necessary, we just have to make an act of contrition.' There is only one problem with this - it's not Church teaching - it's just an opinion without any power to save.

• Develop a real prayer life. Prayer is a major exercise in pushing our roots down into the rich soil of God's love and drawing from him the grace to live good lives.

• Develop a sense of 'being Catholic'. Our Catholic faith is gift. It is not an insult to a Protestant or a Hindu or a Moslem if we say 'I am a Catholic and I'm proud of it'. We belong to Christ - in the Catholic Church - and we seek to draw into the sheepfold those who are searching for him.

The modern world does not make it easy today to be serious Christians. There are strong, unremitting forces at work drawing us away from faith and any sort of committed spiritual life. We are, in a sense, 'under attack'. So my final exhortation would be that parents take seriously their role as the first teachers of the faith to their children. The day will come when the parents will no longer be around. How reassuring it will be for them to know that their children will feel no alarm when the heat comes and have no worries in a year of drought!

5th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year C

Isaiah 6:1-8; Corinthians 15:1-11; Luke 5:1-11

One of the least popular subjects to preach on is sin. People don’t like it. Some, because it challenges the deep fondness they have for the sense of their own goodness, some because they simply deny the existence of sin, and then there are some who believe God’s infinite love for us makes speaking of sin unnecessary, even ‘sinful’. These people, very obviously, have not read the Scriptures attentively.

The Scriptures are always speaking about sin, and it’s a curious phenomenon of the modern age that a priest should have to make a deliberate effort, like the one I’m making right now, to restore to sin its rightful place in the drama of Christian life.

Right from the first chapter of the first book of the Bible sin struts confidently onto the stage. Hardly has God completed creating them than Adam and Eve disobey the first and only restriction he places on them. From that moment the history of humanity becomes the history also of sin.

The Old Testament goes to extraordinary lengths to ‘convict’ mankind of sin. Like little children, early man actually needed to be taught about sin. ‘That’s a naughty word, Johnnie, don’t use it again’ is roughly equivalent to ‘Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.’

The liturgical prescriptions, too, were meant to show the priests, and people, their own unworthiness before the greatness of God:

'God called Moses, and from the Tent of Meeting addressed him, saying, 'Speak to the sons of Israel; say to them, "When any of you brings an offering to Yahweh, he can offer an animal from either herd or flock.'

'If his offering is a holocaust of an animal out of the herd, he is to offer a male without blemish; it is to be offered at the entrance to the Tent of Meeting, so that it may be accepted before Yahweh. He is to lay his hand on the victim's head, and it shall be accepted as effectual for his atonement. (Lev 1:4)'

The key words - offering, without blemish, at the entrance to the Tent, for his atonement - serve to establish a deep awareness in the People of their need for redemption. Modern man, however, lost in the virtual world of his own unblemished goodness, might be genuinely puzzled by these words. 'Atonement? Atonement for what?’

The ultimate unveiling of one’s sinfulness, of course, occurs in the experience of the presence of God because an experience of God is always an experience of self. Perhaps this is one of the reasons so few of us pray.

In our readings today Isaiah experiences the Lord (…I saw the Lord…) and immediately exclaims: What a wretched state I am in! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips… .

St Paul refers to his encounter with the Lord on the road to Damascus (…he appeared to me...) and how he had discovered his lowliness (...he fell to the ground...) and his sinfulness (...you are persecuting me).

So inflexible is this dynamic by which we experience ourselves and our sinfulness in the presence of God that we can rightfully suppose from Peter’s reaction in the boat (Depart from me … I am a sinful man) that he had suddenly experienced the presence of the divinity of Jesus.

None of these men was pretending when they confessed themselves sinners. God didn’t come to them and say ‘Ah, no, you’re OK; you’re not really so bad. Don’t give it another thought.’ It was because they acknowledged their sinfulness that God was able to offer his mercy.

• Isaiah was cleansed by the live coal which the angel touched to his lips (your sin is taken away, your iniquity is purged).
• Ananias laid his hands on Saul and he recovered his sight and was filled with the Holy Spirit.
• Jesus did not contradict Peter’s self-assessment but said to him: Do not be afraid, and then gave him a mission.

It is perhaps in these words to Peter that the rest of us ‘sinners’ can take most comfort because Peter’s journey is also ours - to confess our sin, to accept forgiveness, to say yes to our mission.

In the spirit of our reflection we conclude with a few questions to reflect on:

• Do I claim to know God but don’t recognise my sinfulness?
• Do I acknowledge my sinfulness but haven’t experienced God’s mercy?
• If my sins are forgiven have I no sense of mission?