4th Sunday of Lent - Year A

1Samuel 16;1.6-7.10-13; Ephesians 5:8-14; John 9:1-41

What a disturbing Gospel we have just heard! Jesus, the Light of the world, comes across a blind man whose eyes cannot see the light. He heals him; he opens his eyes not only to the light of the sun but to the light of faith. Almost immediately Jesus and the man become the subjects of a bitter controversy with the Jewish leaders who call both of them sinners.

At heart the dispute is between light and dark, truth and error, sight and blindness, innocence and guilt.

The blind man recounts the story of his healing with the same simplicity with which it occurred: The man called Jesus … made a paste, daubed my eyes with it and said to me, ‘Go and wash at Siloam’; so I went, and when I washed I could see.

The man also displays a rare and admirable reluctance to say more than he knows: I don’t know if he is a sinner; I only know that I was blind and now I can see.

We are given no cause to doubt the blind man’s word or his situation. They all knew he was blind and they all know he has been healed. What more is there to say?

Jesus has healed him. In simple faith, and probably encouraged by the uncomfortable paste of mud over his eyes, the man goes off and washes. His healing brings him to faith in Jesus as a prophet, and later, when Jesus reveals himself further, he acknowledges his divinity and worships him. How compellingly simple! The entire unfolding of the man’s encounter with the Lord is as it should be – leading to a deeper and deeper faith.

Curiously, the Jewish leaders, sometimes called the Pharisees, are far more interesting in this story than the blind man; they are even far more interesting than the miracle. They show themselves to be proud, unyielding, devious, evasive and, to put it in the terms of the Gospel, blind. They are unwilling to accept either the facts or the truth. They are people who, although they pretend to want to discover the light, really want to obscure it. They want their darkness to be the light.

It is now clear that Jesus, the Light, confronts two kinds of blindness: blindness that knows it cannot see, and blindness that thinks it can. The former he has healed; before the latter he stands helpless.

In their understanding, or rather, misunderstanding of the Law, Jesus is guilty because he healed on the Sabbath. In fact, the Law of Moses had never stated that making a paste and placing it on a man’s eyes constituted breaking the Sabbath prohibition against work. This was only their interpretation and they were so fond of it they were blind to the act of divine love which set a poor blind brother free from his lifelong affliction.

Four times the Pharisees ask how Jesus had opened the man’s eyes and the clearer the truth becomes they more they recoil from it. They reject it because it overturns their ‘way of looking’, the comfortable lies they had been telling themselves about their privileged relationship with God. And so the simple logic of the blind man is deeply repugnant to the Pharisees: if this man were not from God, he couldn't do a thing.

A frightful thing is darkness which pretends to be light, ignorance which believes itself to be knowledge, pride which thinks of itself as humility, blindness which thinks it is sight. It's very sad, it's very frightening, and it's very common. And sadly, it causes endless disunity.

Since the phobic ‘investigations’ of the Pharisees do not produce the desired outcome they have recourse to their last weapon, their power: And they drove him away.

John has already told us that Jesus is: the light of men, a light that shines in the dark, a light that darkness could not overpower.(1:4-5) Try as it might, the darkness cannot overpower the light. The blind man ends up worshipping Jesus, the Jews end up seeking to destroy him.

The Gospel, as always, makes everything clear. It shows us where the darkness actually lies, where the guilt really is, where the truth can be found. It shows us who is good and who is evil; who can see and who is blind; who is right and who is wrong.

3rd Sunday of Lent - Year A

Exodus 17:3-8; Romans 5:1-2.5-8; John 4:5-42

In today’s readings everybody is thirsty.

• The Chosen People in the desert are thirsty.
• Jesus is thirsty.
• The woman at the well is thirsty.
• Even God is thirsty.

How about you? Are you thirsty? And what are you thirsting for? What would you like to drink? Think carefully before you answer; it may be all you’ll get.

The People in the desert were thirsty; their throats were dry. They wanted water. They were so thirsty, in fact, that they were tormented by thirst. They complained against Moses and were on the point of stoning him. Actually, they were grumbling against God; putting him to the test. Of course they didn’t realise that God was putting them to the test too.

The great thirst of the People was simply for water. In the face of this tormenting thirst everything was of no importance. They lost sight of what God had done for them by leading them out of slavery in Egypt by the hand of Moses, they forgot the great signs God had worked to strengthen their faith in him, they forgot all his promises of freedom in their own land. All they wanted was a drink of water – now! – because if they didn’t get it they would die.

I met a woman in hospital once who told me she needed to have her baby aborted or she would die. She told me she ‘had no choice’.

In the desert of Sinai God had brought his Chosen People to place and a moment of choice, or rather, to a place and a moment where it once again became apparent to them that a choice was possible.

It was actually the same moment in which Jesus found himself in another wilderness forty days after his baptism. After fasting for forty days and nights Jesus was naturally very hungry: and the tempter came and said to him, 'If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to turn into loaves'. But he replied, 'Scripture says: Man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of God'.

So we see that the People of God actually found themselves confronted by a very challenging question: ‘Do you want to live, or do you want God?’ Do you trust God or do you want to take the decision about your life into your own hands; in other words, do you want to be your own God?

Esau sold his birthright for a plate of stew; it can also be sold for a glass of water, or even the life of a babe in the womb.

So, the question I asked earlier on, ‘What are you thirsting for?’, and, of course, it is a question directed to me as well, is one that goes to the heart of a true relationship with God.

When King David was in the wilderness of Judah he wrote a Psalm:

O God, you are my God, for you I long;For you my soul is thirsting.My body pines for youLike a dry, weary land without water (Ps 63:2).

See how he begins, you are my God? Not only did David affirm this, he lived it. There were a number of occasions King David could have saved his life, for example, by killing King Saul who was pursuing him, but David chose to trust and obey God.

What we are dealing with today is the profound question of what constitutes true discipleship. Do we thirst more for earthly life or for eternal life? Do we trust our own judgment or do we trust God?

Worldly people will say: I may follow the dictates of my own heart and still lack nothing; much water drives away thirst. (Deut 29:19) but those who believe will remember Jesus’ words: For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it. (Mtt 16:25)

After killing the Philistines Samson was very thirsty: he called on God and said, 'You yourself have worked this great victory by the hand of your servant; and now must I die of thirst … Then God opened a hollow in the ground, the hollow there is at Lehi, and water gushed out of it. (Judges 15:18-19)

We must all die. Samson’s prayer for water was heard but it was entirely possible that his story could have ended there at Lehi, with Samson dying of thirst.

On the Cross of Calvary Jesus cried ‘I thirst’ but he refused water. His thirst was the thirst of God for the salvation of his children. Yes, God, too, thirsts.

And is this not the same power God will use to fulfil his promise to those who put their hope in him? As the last book of the Bible says: the One who sits on the throne will spread his tent over them. They will never hunger or thirst again; neither the sun nor scorching wind will ever plague them, because the Lamb who is at the throne will be their shepherd and will lead them to springs of living water; and God will wipe away all tears from their eyes. (Rev 7:17-19)

2nd Sunday of Lent - Year A

Genesis 12:1-4; 2Timothy 1:8-10; Matthew 17:1-9

There’s a beautiful little book by Pope Benedict called “Behold the Pierced One”, first published in English in 1986. It’s really a series of Christ-centred meditations and reflections and I want to share with you some of the thought from this book as they relate to our Gospel today.

The first word of today’s Gospel is Jesus. Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain.

But who is Jesus? Catholic theology has much to say about him but there is a modern trend to want to go back to the beginning and discover the historical Jesus; to set aside all that the Church says about him, and to know him in and through himself alone.

This, then, is the challenge Pope Benedict takes up in his meditations – to suggest in a few clear statements certain fundamental characteristics of the unity of the Jesus of history and the Jesus of the Church. We don’t have the time, of course, to develop each step of the Pope’s thought but let us select a few of his ideas.

His first thesis is that: according to Scripture, the centre of the life and person of Jesus is his constant communication with the Father.

How true this is and no Christian, Protestant or Catholic, will deny it.

For the entire gospel testimony is unanimous that Jesus’ words and deeds flowed from his most intimate communion with the Father; that he continually went “into the hills” to pray in solitude after the burden of the day.

The evangelist Luke shows us: the essential events of Jesus’ activity proceeded from the core of his personality and that this core was his dialogue with the Father.

Surely this insight is as simple as it is indispensible to understanding Jesus. We could go so far as to say that Jesus was defined by his prayer and as Pope Benedict’s second thesis says: Jesus died praying.

His third thesis is that: Since the centre of the person of Jesus is prayer, it is essential to participate in his prayer if we are to know and understand him.

Jesus’ prayer was the prayer of the Son; it was an act of constant self-giving into the hands of his Father who gave him everything in return. Since, in his innermost self, Jesus is nothing but relationship with God, the Father we, in order to come to know and understand Jesus, must enter into this relationship, this prayer of the Son.

Thesis four states: Sharing in Jesus’ praying involves communion with all his brethren .. what St Paul calls the ‘Body of Christ’.

Jesus came to us so that he might make us into a New People for God his Father; he is here on earth for us because, as Pope Benedict says, our voice is not loud enough to summon the infinite. Only the prayer of Jesus can reach God.

And again: man is not in a position to produce a relationship to God on his own account. It is the prayer of Jesus which adopts those who believe in him into the community of his own self (of his Body).

But there is one more important thing to be said here. It is to make clear that the prayer of Jesus, his act of self-surrender to the Father, his dying prayer, was consummated on the Cross and made present in the Eucharist as his gift to us. In this prayer Jesus takes us to the Father and makes us children of the Kingdom.

It is not surprising then that when Jesus went up the high mountain to pray, that he should take ‘with him’ Peter, James and John (the core of the community of the Twelve) as he would take them ‘with him’ to the Garden of Gethsemane on the Mount of Olives.

The mountain, in Scripture, is always the place of meeting with God, the place of prayer. During his prayer Jesus is transfigured. The glory of God in which his prayer participates is shown in his body. Pope Benedict says: the Transfiguration only renders visible what is actually taking place in Jesus’ prayer: he is sharing in God’s radiance…

When we reflect on this we come to see that all Jesus’ teaching, his proclamation of God’s revelation, the Good News, and all the miracles he worked proceed from this radiance. Furthermore, it is into this very radiance of God that we enter when we pray so that our eyes may be opened so that we may see God.

In the midst of this reflection Pope Benedict says something which needs pondering. He says that: the entire person of Jesus is contained in his prayer. Certainly he would intend us to understand here the entire Jesus is contained in the Eucharist because it is his prayer to the Father.

So, to understand his prayer is to understand Jesus; to understand Jesus we have to participate in his prayer.

1st Sunday of Lent - Year A

Genesis 2:7-9.3:1-7; Romans 5:12-19; Matthew 4:1-11

'What do we want?’

‘Power!’

‘When do we want it?’

‘Now!’

This is an ugly little chant, and most people instinctively know it, sometimes even the chanters, which is why it is often disguised as something else. And yet it expresses a great longing at the heart of so much of modern living. Pope Benedict XVI, in Chapter 3 of his book A New Song For The Lord has this to say: There is something fascinating and simultaneously threatening about the word “power”: all human beings dream of having power, of being able to manage things as they want, and in this way of being free and fearless in the world. But for most of us this remains a dream.

In what follows I am going to try to ‘creatively’ summarise Pope Benedict’s thoughts and explore a little of what true power and true hope really are and what they are not. We’ll look first at the account of the third temptation of Jesus in the Gospel for this Sunday.

Satan takes Jesus to a very high mountain and shows him all the kingdoms of the world and all their splendour. I am reminded here of the Mafia boss who takes his new recruit to his office and shows him the vast area of New York under his control. In the very height of the ‘very high mountain’ and in the very vastness of the Mafia bosses territory we see immediately the limitations of their power.

Satan claims to be the real ruler of the world. We know that this is a lie but I wonder if Satan is lying to himself or if his pride is so complete that he really believes his claim? In that case he would be truly ‘lost’.

He offers Jesus power and its ‘splendour’, or as we say in Australia, its ‘pomps’; and we note that in the Rite of Baptism, where in order to become a Christian, one must renounce not only the devil but his ‘pomps’.

The splendour of power, signifies being able to do what you want, enjoying what you want, having everything at your disposal and being able to choose the place of honour. We might call it ‘walking the red carpet’. No pleasure is turned down; every adventure is possible; everyone kneels before you. You may do everything you want and can do everything you want.

It is that same deceitful ‘being like God’ with which Satan tempted Adam and Eve that he now offers to Jesus, and it is really a caricature of the likeness of God. God is not like that at all. God’s power does not ‘lord it over others’. What Satan offers instead is a parody of God’s freedom and power.

Notice the kind of power Satan offers:

• A power which is not really his but which he simply claims or steals.
• A power which has ‘splendour’ but which in fact is very limited.
• A power based on terror, fear, selfishness, the rape of others, and the idolisation of oneself.
• A power which is given in return for slavery and obedience to Satan.

This power, wielded by the powerful of the world is often offered to the Church which has a duty to reject it every time. To accept this power would be to place oneself under the power of those who offer it. This kind of power cannot save. This kind of power does not ennoble man, but damages and destroys the dignity not only of those who wield it but also of those against whom it is used.

Let us turn briefly to another text from Matthew. Jesus is again standing on a high mountain and the question of power comes up once more. This time he can say: All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me. This time it is a question not of earthly power alone but also of power in heaven. This is why he can say ‘all power’. What he refused to take from Satan is now really his because it comes from God, to whom all power belongs. How did Jesus obtain this power, and what sort of power is it?

Firstly we have to remember that the one who is speaking is now risen from the dead. His power came to him from the other side of death, from the risen, eternal life, and therefore it is power which spans all things and all time.

Before Jesus could stand on this mountain and claim power over heaven and earth he had to climb another mountain, that of his crucifixion. On this mountain he was raised ‘on high’ but in the exact opposite of Satan’s ‘heights’.

Satan’s heights are only limited power in a limited context – like power in the sandpit or the playground, to use an example from a school context. Satan’s power is only a tiny fragment of power which will ultimately be revealed as no power at all.

The heights of the mountain of crucifixion are the heights, the power, of relinquishing all - everything - and hanging naked between heaven and earth but totally one with the will of God, his Father. In this unity he gains ‘all power’ because all that is of God comes to him. Jesus renounced the ‘being able to do all things’ of Satan and received the Father’s power on the cross of this renunciation.

Ash Wednesday - Year A

Joel 2:12-18; 2Corinthians 5:20-6:2; Matthew 6:1-6.16-18

We have come here today because, like most Christians, we are torn between the knowledge of what we are called to be and remorse for what we are. We regret our little progress on the path of the spiritual life, we have come to do penance, and we have come because we want to start afresh.

Our eyes are on the future. We know that to live for God and others we have to die to self; to our self-ishness, to self-indulgence and self-preoccupation. Ringing in our ears are the words of Jesus: He who loses his life will find it; he who finds his life will lose it.

But we are not morbid or sad. We are full of joy at the prospect of the liberation awaiting us. After all, we know that what we do this Lent by way of prayer, penance and almsgiving will not be enough to set us free. No way. We are only making a gesture.

Ultimately freedom can come only from the Lord himself as gift. We are only indicating our desire, our longing, our need for this gift.

That is why, firstly, we are going to pray during this Lent; every day. We won't be spending long hours in prayer like they do in the Carthusian monasteries but we will be praying for a significant time and we will be praying well, from the heart, every day. In the last message from Medjugorje there was mention made of this: “Dear children ... You are forgetting what is the most important, you are forgetting to pray properly. Your lips pronounce countless words, but your spirit does not feel anything... Dear children, proper prayer comes from the depth of your heart, from your suffering, from your joy, from your seeking the forgiveness of sins...”

Secondly, we are going to do some fasting. Perhaps, like me, you can no longer manage 24 hours on bread and water so you are going to fast from something else. How about no smoking for two hours a day? No television one or two days a week? No coffee or tea, just water? No desserts? The possibilities are endless, thank God, and we are going to choose something that really will show God we mean it.

Thirdly, we are going to give some alms to people who really need our help; that's what alms means - help. If we haven't given some help to all the needy flood and cyclone and fire victims yet we will do that during Lent. It's our duty. We will go and visit that lonely person we don't want to visit. We will find someone or other to help because we want to show Jesus we need his help.

I am going to seal your good intentions about dying to yourself with some ashes. There is nothing quite so dead as ashes, is there? And yet, these ashes, in the sign of the Cross they will form on your forehead, hold the promise of life, the promise Jesus makes to those who die for him.