Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, June 26, 2022
/Discipleship is a radical call
Luke 9:51–62
When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. And he sent messengers ahead of him, who went and entered a village of the Samaritans, to make preparations for him. But the people did not receive him, because his face was set toward Jerusalem. And when his disciples James and John saw it, they said, “Lord, do you want us to tell fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” But he turned and rebuked them. And they went on to another village.
As they were going along the road, someone said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” To another he said, “Follow me.” But he said, “Lord, let me first go and bury my father.” And Jesus said to him, “Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Yet another said, “I will follow you, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” Jesus said to him, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”
Music Meditations
The Summons-Robert Kochis
Here I am Lord
Unto thee O Lord-Maranatha Singers
Simple Gifts
Opening Prayer
Lord,I want to say “ I will follow you wherever you go.” But left to myself I do not always have the inner strength to keep my promises. Allow me to understand that the journey will not always be easy, and I may have failures and setbacks along the way, but allow me to feel your presence, supporting me and encouraging me, and understanding me when I miss my goals. Keep me true to you and close to you always.
Companions for the Journey
St. Francis of Assisi is a wonderful example of a radical response to Jesus’ command: “Follow me”. He left life of riches and ease and embraced radical poverty and love of all creation. He is the saint of humility, simplicity, serving our neighbors, and joy.
Francis was born in late 1181 or early 1182, one of several children of an Italian father, Pietro di Bernardone dei Moriconi, a prosperous silk merchant, and a French mother, Pica de Bourlemont, about whom little is known except that she was a noblewoman originally from Provence. Pietro was in France on business when Francis was born in Assisi, and Pica had him baptized as Giovanni. Upon his return to Assisi, Pietro took to calling his son Francesco ("Free man", "Frenchman"), possibly in honor of his commercial success and enthusiasm for all things French. Indulged by his parents, Francis lived the high-spirited life typical of a wealthy young man. As a youth, Francesco became a devotee of troubadors and was fascinated with all things European. He was handsome, witty, gallant, and delighted in fine clothes. He spent money lavishly. Although many stories abound about his bright clothing, rich friends, and love of pleasures, his displays of disillusionment toward the world that surrounded him came fairly early in his life, as is shown in the "story of the beggar". In this account, he was selling cloth and velvet in the marketplace on behalf of his father when a beggar came to him and asked for alms. At the conclusion of his business deal, Francis abandoned his wares and ran after the beggar. When he found him, Francis gave the man everything he had in his pockets. His friends mocked him for his charity; his father scolded him in rage. Around 1202, he joined a military expedition against and was taken as a prisoner, spending a year as a captive. An illness caused him to re-evaluate his life. Upon his return to Assisi in 1203, Francis returned to his carefree life. In 1205, Francis left for Apulia on another military adventure. A strange vision made him return to Assisi and lose interest in the worldly life. According to some sources, thereafter he began to avoid the sports and feasts of his former companions. A friend asked him whether he was thinking of marrying, to which he answered: "Yes, a fairer bride than any of you have ever seen", meaning his "Lady Poverty".
On a spiritual journey to Rome, he joined the poor in begging at St. Peter’s Basilica. The stories tell us that he spent some time in lonely places, asking God for some sort of direction .He said he had a mystical experience in the forsaken country chapel of San Damiano, just outside Assisi, in which the vision of the crucified Jesus said to him, "Francis, Francis, go and repair My church which, as you can see, is falling into ruins." He took this to mean the ruined church in which he was presently praying, and so he sold some cloth from his father's store to assist the priest there. When the priest refused to accept the ill-gotten gains, an indignant Francis threw the coins on the floor. In order to avoid his father's wrath, Francis hid in a cave near San Damiano for about a month. When he returned to town, hungry and dirty, he was dragged home by his father, beaten, bound, and locked in a small storeroom. Freed by his mother during Bernardone's absence, Francis returned at once to San Damiano, where he found shelter with the officiating priest, but he was soon cited before the city consuls by his father. The latter, not content with having recovered the scattered gold from San Damiano, sought also to force his son to forego his inheritance by way of restitution. In the midst of legal proceedings before the Bishop of Asissi, Francis renounced his father and his inheritance. Some accounts report that he stripped himself naked in token of this renunciation, and the bishop covered him with his own cloak. For the next couple of months, Francis wandered as a beggar in the hills behind Assisi. He spent some time at a neighboring monastery working as a scullion. He then went to Gubbio, where a friend gave him, as an alms, the cloak, girdle, and staff of a pilgrim. Returning to Assisi, he traversed the city begging stones for the restoration of St. Damiano's. These he carried to the old chapel, set in place himself, and so at length rebuilt it. Over the course of two years, he embraced the life of a penitent, during which he restored several ruined chapels in the countryside around Assisi, among them the little chapel of St. Mary of the Angels in the plain just below the town. This later became his favorite place. By degrees he took to nursing lepers near Assisi. One day, he was attending Mass in the chapel of St. Mary of the Angels, near which he had by then built himself a hut. The Gospel of the day was the "Commissioning of the Twelve" from the Book of Matthew. The disciples were to go and proclaim that the Kingdom of God is at hand. Francis was inspired to devote himself to a life of poverty. Having obtained a coarse woolen tunic, the dress then worn by the poorest Umbrian peasants, he tied it around himself with a knotted rope and went about exhorting the people of the countryside to penance, brotherly love, and peace. Francis's preaching to ordinary people was unusual as he had no license to do so.
His example attracted others. Within a year Francis had eleven followers. The brothers lived a simple life in a deserted leper house near Assisi; but they spent much of their time wandering through the mountainous districts of Umbria, making a deep impression upon their hearers by their sincerity. In 1209 he composed a simple rule for his followers ("friars"), the "Primitive Rule", which came from verses in the Bible. The rule was "to follow the teachings of our Lord Jesus Christ and to walk in his footsteps." He then led eleven followers to Rome to seek permission from Pope Innocent III to found a new religious order. After several days, the pope agreed to admit the group informally, adding that when God increased the group in grace and number, they could return for an official audience.. Though a number of the pope's counselors considered the mode of life proposed by Francis to be unsafe and impractical, following a dream in which he saw Francis holding up the Lateran Basilica, he decided to endorse Francis's order. This occurred, according to tradition, on 16 April 1210, and constituted the official founding of the Franciscan Order. The group were centered in the Porziuncola and preached first in Umbria, before expanding throughout Italy. Francis was later ordained a deacon, but not a priest.
Determined to bring the Gospel to all peoples and let God convert them, Francis sought on several occasions to take his message out of Italy. For example, in the late spring of 1212, he set out for Jerusalem, but was shipwrecked by a storm, forcing him to return to Italy. On 8 May 1213, he was given the use of the mountain of Alverna as a gift from Count Orlando di Chiusi, who described it as “eminently suitable for whoever wishes to do penance in a place remote from mankind”. The mountain would become one of his favorite retreats for prayer. According to some late sources, the Sultan, a nephew of Saladin gave Francis permission to visit the sacred places in the Holy Land and even to preach there. All that can safely be asserted is that Francis and his companions left the Crusader camp for Acre, from where they embarked for Italy in the latter half of 1220. Drawing on a 1267 sermon by Bonaventure, later sources report that the Sultan secretly converted or accepted a death-bed baptism as a result of meeting Francis. Due to these events in Jerusalem, Franciscans have been present in the Holy Land almost uninterruptedly since 1217.
Francis’ actions throughout his life after his “conversion moment” ran counter to the spirit of the age in which he lived. He railed against a church grown rich and complacent, which created problems with many of those in ecclesial high places. His embracing of lepers, the poor, the insane, the outcast, seemed a natural response to a loving God, but unnatural to many of his time. The fact that his friars worked to put bread on their meager tables instead of being subsidized by the rich was a reminder to all of Jesus and his disciples, but annoyed many. Francis could never compromise his requirement of wholehearted acceptance-by his brothers-of the poverty spoken of in the gospels. When church authority was brought to bear on him, he acquiesced to a less stringent rule, but afterward gradually divorced himself from the workings of the order that he had inspired.(1) In all that he did, in all that he lived, Francis’ inspiration was the Jesus of the gospels, calling him to endure suffering as Jesus did, to be a peacemaker as Jesus was, embrace the poor and marginalized, just as Jesus embraced them, and to experience oneness with all of God’s creation. Though the road was hard, and though the setbacks were many, though attempts were made to compromise his vison, Francis never looked back at what he had left behind, never looked at the difficulties, but only at the mission to follow Jesus wherever it took him.
Are we inspired by how Francis totally handed himself over to the call of Jesus? To what degree are we willing to hand ourselves over to the call of Jesus now? Can those practical concerns of family ties and work become a block rather than a path to following the Lord? How close can we get now to being like Francis who followed Jesus?
Joseph Stoutzenberger and John Bohrer, Praying with Francis of Assisi, p 19
Weekly Memorization
Taken from the gospel for today's session….
No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the kingdom of God
Living the Good News
What action can you take in the next week as a response to today's reading and discussion?
Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions which follow:
Reflection Questions:
The expression “determined to journey to Jerusalem” indicates that the gospel writer thought Jesus knew that there were going to be dark days and bad times ahead, and determination was required to help him follow his mission to the end. Have I ever faced an ordeal or a challenge that required me to rely on sheer will and deminationto weather the events I was facing?
Did I seek out strength and comfort from anyone?
Was it friends or relatives?
Was it Jesus, of the Father,or the Holy Spirit? Was it Mary or another saint?
When Jesus and the disciples were rejected in Samaria, the disciples wanted revenge. Jesus told them no and rebuked them.
Has some rejection or slight caused me to want revenge on someone?
What did I do about that feeling?
Did I talk to Jesus about it--he who knew rejection?
Do I talk to Jesus, who knows me better than I know myelf, about the traits in my own personality that sometimes get in the way of doing what I should to be his follower?
Do I think he understands?
What have I personally done to address the roablocks in my own personality the keep from doing the will of Jesus?
This story contains stylisitc hyperbole which seems impossible or unnatural compared to my understanding of my obligations to others in my life vs. my desire to follow to Jesus. This hyperbolic suggestion that we not even bury our parents or say farewell to those we leave behind is meant to be a warning to people that following Jesus will not be easy, either materially or emotionally.
What are some of the conflicting needs that I am already addressing in my everyday life?
How do I balance my time and my priorities, and, yes, my own needs, so that I am doing what I think Jesus wants me to be doing?
What if I fail? Do I think Jesus understands?
What are some of the present-day costs to following Jesus? Does this scare me?
Someone suggested that we need a certain amount of freedom in our lives to hear the word of God and act on it.
What things or situations in my life keep me bound to un-free pattrns of behavior?
DoI sometimes feel that Jesus is asking to much of us, of me?
Do I feel that his demands are too unrealistic?
Which ones?
Do I sometimes have initial enthusiam for a project or a cause, but lose interest after a while?
What cause this--obstacles, reisistence from others, the demands of daily life, or an emergency situation?
What legitimate priorities of mine might get in the way of completely following Jesus?
How do I resolve this?
Can I say that I am “all in”, or only partially in?
By Jude Siciliano, O.P.:
What daily response am I making to Jesus’ invitation, “Follow me”?
What do I need to put aside to make that a fuller response?
Meditations:
A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:
For the Jews, the Samaritans were a bad and despised people. The feeling was mutual. There were enemies who happened to live next to each other, and so got in each other’s way. A lot. Because each believed that the only way to be a good and religious person was their way, with their rules and customs, they judged the others as inferior, irreligious, and bad people generally. In our own lives, we have had a tendency to judge those whose religious ideas and political ideas are different from ours, and we spend a lot of energy trying to convince them that they are wrong, and spend even more time mentally criticizing them in our heads, or worse, commiserating with others about the stupid and misguided people we have to live with in our families, in the workplace, in our church. If only they were more like us, we would not have this problem. Then there are those who seem to be rather unworthy, not-very-nice people who have been incredibly lucky, successful and happy. When good thinks happen to bad people it bothers us. A lot. And finally, it is especially hurtful when, in turn,others criticize and reject us. Do we get mad? Do we get even?
So we each need to ask ourselves: how much time do I spend, either alone, with others, talking about how awful some other person or group is, and hoping they will get their comeuppance? This is not justice. It is revenge. What are some of the antidotes to revenge?
What did Jesus do about the Samaritans who rejected him? What can I do about people in my life who have rejected me or disappointed me in some way? How can I break the negative and destructive cycle of resentment, quasi-forgiveness, more resentment? What or who has to change in this picture?
A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/The beginnings of discernment:
This Spiritual reflection on following Jesus and becoming a disciple discusses the unhealthy attachments that keep us from fully following Jesus. It can be money, it can be power, it can be people. None of these are bad in themselves; it is when they get in the way of our living the life that Jesus calls us to that they become spiritually unhealthy. Here is a practical approach--read the following excerpt from The Ignatian Adventure by Kevin O’Brien, S.J.:
Only when we are really free can we hear God’s call. This week, we reflect on how God calls us right now in the concrete particulars of our lives. Do not worry about making big decisions or changing the way you live. That may come later. Insead, simply marvel that god calls each of us specially. Listen not only to the call, but to the one who calls.
We encounter God in a variety of ways: in the people around us and in the work we are doing; in something we read or see in the world; and in the inspiration of scripture and the Church’s liturgy. We also find God in the holy desires brewing in our hearts. This is a central insight to Ignatian Spiituality. Because God, our creator, gives us life, and because we are the image of God, God’s desires and our deepenst desires are one and the same. What we truly desire is also what God desires for us. Discerning those desires takes practice….
God is always trying to get our attention in ways both obvious and subtle. We are reminded of the prophet Elijah, who, standing on a mountaintop, found God not in a mighty wind, or in an earthquake or in fire, but in a sound of sheet silence. We can find God in the busyness of our lives, and in the silence of our prayer.
So I ask myself what “things” do I need to be free of the fully enter into the mission of Jesus? What unhealthy attachments to certain people, ideas, or comforts weigh me down as I seek to move in the direction Jesus is calling me to? Like the rich young man, do I give up and go away because I am too comfortable, too lazy? Or am I just afraid? What are some qualities I would like to cultivate to be more like Jesus? What qualities in myself are holding me back? In what ways, large and small, have I encountered the presence of God in my life? Have I paid attention? Is there a larger and more demanding enterprise that Jesus might be calling me to? How do I respond?
Poetic Reflection:
May Oliver seems to capture the sense of obligation to others in our lives that keep us from doing what we are meant to be doing:
THE JOURNEY
One day you finally knew
what you had to do and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
around your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.
Closing Prayer
MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
