27th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year A

Isaiah 5:1-7; Philippians 4:6-9; Matthew 21:33-43

A vineyard wakes to new life in Spring. Tiny buds appear on the bare branches and before long the whole vineyard is a blaze of delicate green soaking up sunlight and air. Deep in the soil the roots drink in the rain and search for the minerals needed to form the rich fruit of the harvest. The vineyard belongs to the Master. It is to his glory that it yields a bountiful harvest.

You are the vineyard. Yes, you! And me!

One day the Master will send his servants, the angels, to gather in the produce of the vineyard. That will be a day of intense joy for some and a day of shame for others.

Yes, we are the Master's vineyard. And the vine he wishes to grow in us is Christ, his Son. This is the harvest he desires to find in us on that day. To put it simply we must 'bear' Christ in ourselves; Jesus must become himself in us so that all may become one in him. What a wonderful thought!

Through Baptism Jesus was 'planted' in us. Through the other Sacraments (Confirmation, Eucharist, Holy Orders, Matrimony, Anointing of the Sick) his life, his presence, is strengthened in us. Through Reconciliation we are restored to this life should it be weakened or destroyed by sin. The Master has thought of everything and he looks forward to the harvest.

Still there is more we can do: prayer, penance, almsgiving, fasting, spiritual reading, service of neighbour, evangelisation of our culture. The tenant's work is never done.

In the time remaining I wish to be very practical and offer you an implement, a 'gardening tool', for your work in the vineyard. It is a Bible.

Not so long ago Pope Benedict said '…I would like in particular to recall and recommend the ancient tradition of "Lectio divina": "the diligent reading of Sacred Scripture accompanied by prayer …" If it is effectively promoted, this practice will bring to the Church -- I am convinced of it -- a new spiritual springtime.'

Prayer is real 'labouring in the vineyard' and lectio divina is a form of prayer as powerful as it is simple. It is a really good 'spade' or 'hoe'.

Without prejudicing any other form of prayer I'll try to give a glimpse, just a glimpse, of this ancient method of prayer which, coincidentally, solves many of the problems associated with daily prayer - like the question of distractions, routine, what do I do? what do I say? - and so on.

A Bible is the word of God. This fact is basic. When we read Scripture God is speaking. We don't need visions or locutions because here God is speaking.

The word of God is also, and at the same time, the action of God. Everywhere we read: God said ... and so it was. In the Bible the word of God continues his work and goes on creating, healing, loving, strengthening, forming, comforting, correcting and disturbing us.

Where the word of God is, living, active, powerful, God himself is not far away, in fact he is truly present.

When we read the Bible we are looking for the Lord and, if we are faithful to our daily reading, we will most certainly will find him. He will open our eyes to his presence and cause us to realise that, in fact, he is never absent.

Let me give you a simple image. You're on a railway platform waiting for the train. Are you really waiting for the train? No, you are really waiting for the arrival of the person who is on the train. It would be silly if the train pulled in and we all stood around admiring the train and ignoring the passenger.

Admiring the train is what's called Bible Study. Lectio Divina is searching for the passenger. And you know which passenger I mean, don't you?

The Bible is also like a huge house occupied by a vast number of the most interesting and wonderful (for the most part) people you could ever meet. In this house live Adam and Eve, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Sarah, Joshua, Saul, David, Rebecca, Esther, prophets, kings, judges, men and women and lots of children.

Do you know these people? You should. They are the ones who preceded us in the faith and as we watch them living out their faith, with all their difficulties and trials and human weaknesses and fears we quickly come to realise that their lives are our lives - they are our elder brothers and sisters - that we are really looking at ourselves. As they learn about God, so do we. As they experience his love and mercy, so do we. As they hear the word of correction, so do we.

Have you ever been with Adam and Eve under the tree being tempted by the serpent? Have you ever stood with the People on the shores of the Red Sea trapped between the waters and the angry Egyptians? Have you ever celebrated the second Passover - in the total peace and safety of the 'desert of Sinai' in the wonderful 'twilight of the evening'?

We end with a thought from Psalm One:

Happy the man who ... finds his pleasure in the Law of Yahweh, and meditates on his law day and night. He is like a tree that is planted by water streams, yielding its fruit in season, its leaves never fading ...

26th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year A

Ezekiel 18:25-28; Philippians 2:1-11; Matthew 21:28-32

St Paul is writing to the Christian community in Philippi, a community which he himself founded. In fact, this was the first Christian community in all of Europe.

St Paul is writing from prison in constant danger of death. His tone is fatherly and pleading, serious, concerned and inspiring. He is addressing the community about something much deeper than itself; he is speaking about communion, what he calls: our life in Christ.

We can easily imagine him sitting in his prison at a rough table writing on a sheet of parchment. He has already been writing for some time and little by little he begins to be absorbed in what he is writing. Once more, in his mind's eye, he stands among his beloved brothers and sisters in far away Philippi and opens his mind and his heart to them. He speaks to them of the life and love and Spirit they have in common: their life in Christ.

Hearing his letter today two thousand years later we ourselves are quietly drawn back through the ages until we, too, find ourselves standing side by side with the Philippians listening to what Paul has written and conscious that we, too, share their life in Christ. We recognise this life  which  is offered undiminished to every man and woman of every age who seeks to become a disciple. Truly it is: our life in Christ.

The origin of this life is, of course, the Blessed Trinity. If we are in communion with one another it is because we share in the communion of love that possesses the Trinity - Father and Son, in the Holy Spirit. It is the Father who sent his Son, born of a Virgin, to draw his people into communion with him through the gift of the Holy Spirit won for us through his passion, death and resurrection.

For Paul this communion is the prized possession of the Christian community and must be valued above all and preserved at all cost and so he pleads with them to reflect on it: If our life in Christ means anything to you …

The beating heart of communion is exactly what St Paul says - our life in Christ. When we are in communion we share in the very life of God or, as we used to say, we are in the state of grace.

Just as the life of God in us is a saving reality so the absence of that life, through grave sin, is a reality which leads to eternal loss and, in normal circumstances, can only be restored through the sacrament of Reconciliation.

Though our being in communion is an invisible, spiritual state it does manifest its presence externally in a very clear way and this is precisely Paul's preoccupation as he speaks to the Church in Philippi.

He instructs his people that to live in Christ should mean also behaving, thinking, and loving like Christ. He calls them to be united in their convictions and in their love; to have a common purpose and a common mind.

Again, this brings us to the basic question of the source of the communion he desires for his people. How can the Philippians who, like us here in this church (with all our different backgrounds, needs, personalities, educational standards, and so on), be united in their convictions? How can they have a common purpose and a common mind? Or to put it more boldly: How can they all (and we) become like one another?

His answer to these questions is daring and liberating: In your minds you must be the same as Christ Jesus. I repeat: In your minds you must be the same as Christ Jesus.

Is this not the evangelising challenge of the present age as it was for Paul two thousand years ago. This is your challenge and mine - to surrender our opinions, our minds to Christ and to accept his teaching, his mind.

Communion is much more than a feeling; it is an objective reality based on the truth revealed by Christ to and in his Church. Regrettably we have had painful examples of what happens to those who break communion by holding convictions which are at odds with those of the Master. Look at what happened at St Mary's in Brisbane! And what do you think will happen to those three hundred Austrian priests who are dissenting from the 'mind of Christ' and destroying communion?

Let me finish by recalling St Paul's plea and even daring to make it my own: be united in your convictions and united in your love, with a common purpose and a common mind. That is the one thing which would make me completely happy.

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year A

Isaiah 55:6-9; Philippians 1:20-24.27; Matthew 20:1-16

Last week the Gospel laid bare for us the roots of forgiveness. We discovered that it is difficult and, most often, impossible, for us to forgive others when we haven’t yet appreciated how much we ourselves have been forgiven.This week the Gospel is about goodness, about generosity. We discover that it is difficult to be generous to others when we haven’t yet appreciated how much we ourselves have been given.

Last week, the servant who was forgiven a huge debt could not find it in himself to forgive his brother servant a small debt. Somehow he had missed the experience of being forgiven which is where we learn to forgive others.

Let me recall these two Gospels a bit more to mind because it is easy to forget.

This week the servant who was given a full day’s work and a full wage is jealous of his brother because he has missed the experience of being generously treated himself. It is from the knowledge of generosity bestowed upon us that we learn to be generous with others.

We can be like those servants who worked hard all day - and we have - we have laboured hard. All those Masses we’ve offered - our Reconciliations - our prayers - our donations to the needy - our forgiveness of those who hurt us - our faithfulness in marriage - sacrifices for the kids. We have been faithful and we have laboured hard.

Trouble is, bit by bit, we can come to believe we deserve more than others. When God is generous to the sinner, especially one who has hurt us, we can come to resent it. Deathbed repentance is not always popular with us Christians. We resent his generosity to others because we fail to see his generosity towards ourselves.So we envy others - their popularity, good looks, intelligence, possessions, their partners in marriage, their fame - and we say: 'How come they got all that? How come God seems to have given them more than me? Surely I deserve more?'

OK, so why is it that in the 1st Eucharistic Prayer of the Mass we pray: Do not consider what we truly deserve … ? In other words: Do not give me what I truly deserve ….

On the one hand 'Surely I deserve more'; on the other hand, 'Do not give me what I truly deserve.'

What’s going on here?

Surely I deserve more! The fact is, however hard we’ve worked, we have really done nothing more than our duty and all that we have received is pure gift; we have deserved none of it.

Joshua 24:13 reminds us: I gave you a land where you never toiled, you live in towns you never built; you eat now from vineyards and olivegroves you never planted. We would do well, as a matter of fact, to thank God for the great gifts he has given us which enable us to serve him in the first place!

Do not give me what I truly deserve! The true Christian can see what he truly deserves and asks God not to give it to him, so let’s not ask God for justice or we’re all 'gonners'. Let’s ask for mercy, forgiveness and generosity and then let’s be merciful, forgiving and generous to others.

At the end of last week I mentioned that if you have a problem forgiving, pray for the gift of forgiveness, and make an inventory of all that God, and others, have had to forgive you for.

At the end of this week I advise that if you suffer from jealousy, make an inventory of everything God, and others, have given you, and you will find it much easier to be generous with others.

24th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year A

Ecclesiasticus 27:30 - 28:7; Romans 14:7-9; Matthew 18:21-35

In the Church today there are two groups of people:

• Those who believe we should forgive because otherwise God won't forgive us.
• Those who believe we should forgive because God has already forgiven us.

I'll say that again.

In the Church today there are two groups of people:

• Those who believe we should forgive because otherwise God won't forgive us.
• Those who believe we should forgive because God has already forgiven us.

Each one of us here would do well to ask ourselves which group we belong to.

It is my belief that the first group is by far the larger and that there are very few people in the second. And it is also my belief that the challenge facing most of us today is that of moving from the first group into the second - of coming to see that we must forgive because we have already been forgiven.

What are the consequences of belonging to the first group?

Well, in the first place it is much, much harder for them to forgive.

Why is this?

It is because for them, forgiveness is an act of will and not an act of love. They say to themselves: I must forgive or I won't be forgiven. These people have to force themselves to go through the motions of forgiveness. For them, forgiveness is a duty.

Let me clarify this with a story. An elderly friend had a sister-in-law with whom he didn't get on well at all. She had hurt him badly and let me tell you it was for him a major problem in his life. As a Christian he knew he had to forgive. You see, at that stage he was in the first group; forgiveness was a duty.

Much against his natural desires he would include this woman in all the family gatherings and do his best to make her feel welcome in every possible way. Invariably, however, there would be friction and sometimes angry words. Another failure and he would feel even more guilty!

To cut a long story short it was after my friend had an experience of deep personal conversion of his own, culminating in a wonderful moment of the celebration of the Sacrament of Reconciliation, that he confided to me that he had finally been able, from the depths of his heart, to forgive his sister-in-law. He was so happy! And again, without going into the personal details, it was obvious to me he had moved out of the first group into the second.

The second group finds it far easier to forgive because they are given power to forgive, and they get this power from the experience of themselves being forgiven.

Why should the servant of our parable today have forgiven? Because he himself had been forgiven. The trouble, apparently, was that somehow he had missed the experience of his own forgiveness. He wasn't paying attention! And because he missed the experience of the huge debt he himself was forgiven he was not able to forgive others. How sad!

If we, in the first group, find it difficult to forgive others, if we have in our lives someone we can't forgive - a husband, a wife, a son or daughter, an in-law or a friend, or maybe a real enemy - then, without doubt, we should return to the experience of being ourselves forgiven our sins. It's in that knowledge, in that experience, that we will get power to forgive. We must go to God in prayer and stand before him in all our sinfulness, all our unloveability (through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault) and hear God say to us (personally), 'You deserve eternal punishment - but I forgive you.'

The world today needs reconciliation so badly. Psychologists say that so many of us just can't be healed from our anxieties, our fears, our guilts and depressions, because we simply refuse to forgive. And we refuse to forgive, like the servant in the Gospel, because we don't yet realise how much we have been forgiven.

It has been said that when we refuse to forgive we burn the bridge that we ourselves have to cross to get to heaven.

So let's keep our sins before our eyes, not in a morbid way, but so that we can rejoice in the depth of God's mercy and love for us. Then, when our neighbour sins against us we can pass on to him the forgiveness in which we ourselves already rejoice.