Palm Sunday, March 28, 2021, and Holy Week

Praying in solidarity with Jesus

Music Meditations

• “My God, My God, Why (Psalm 22)” (The Psalm Project) [YouTube]
• “What Wondrous Love Is This?” (sung by Fernando Ortega) [YouTube]
• “Jesus Remember Me” (Taizé) [YouTube]
• “Your Will” (composed by Tony Eiras; sung by Michael Amaral) [amazingradio.com]
  Scroll down to find "Your Will"; the song can be played in its entirety for free.

Opening Prayer

Jesus, let me learn from your suffering and death what it means to be truly human and a child of God. Lord, you have given me a well-trained tongue that I might know how to speak to the weary a word that will rouse them. Open my ears that I may hear. Help me not to rebel, not to turn back. Let me give my back to those who would hurt me, help me not to shield my face from the scorn of others. You O God, are my help, and I am not disgraced. I will set my face like flint, knowing that I shall not be put to shame.

Companions for the Journey

Adapted from a homily by Catherine Wolff on The Exaltation of the Cross, September 14, 2008:

My early school days were spent at St. Agnes Grammar School up in San Francisco. I’m old enough that seeing a movie was a major treat in those days, and the nuns who ran St. Agnes must have invested all their savings in the one movie we had in our library—a Spanish film that came out in the mid-1950’s called “The Miracle of Marcellino.”

My memory of the exact plot is a bit sketchy—Marcellino was a poor little orphan who had been taken in by the monks in a very austere monastery, and there was an episode having to do with a scorpion bite, and a miracle involving bread and wine. But I do have vivid, enduring memories of the conversations that Marcellino would have with Jesus. He was a lonely little boy who visited the chapel regularly to pray out loud in front of a crucifix that seemed to be at least 15 feet tall. After awhile Jesus, from way up on the cross, started talking back in a deep, rich, sorrowful voice. It was a great comfort to Marcellino but it was absolutely terrifying to me as a 6- or 7-year-old. I was worried that any number of crucifixes that hung all over Catholic 1950’s San Francisco would start speaking to me, but really what was most disturbing was that Jesus was somehow still hanging on the cross, now, today.

Now this was in the days just before Vatican II, when there was still considerable emphasis on the cross as ransom for sin, and on our personal and collective culpability in Jesus’ suffering and death. The story of the cross was told in terms of the sacrifice necessary for the redemption of our sins, one that we find in the Synoptic Gospels. This was a story that implied that God was deeply offended, that he required appeasement, recompense, and that since no mere human could make up for the estrangement that we humans had chosen, God had to send His own son to make amends, and to require of Him the ultimate sacrifice of death.

But there is another way to understand the cross. If we consider God’s love to be the real basis for hope, instead of the terrible ransom of Jesus’ life, we can tell another version of the story. It starts with the story in Genesis of creation itself, where God begins to reveal Himself, freely and forgivingly. And in this story creation is not an event that is contained in the past but is actually ongoing in history, ongoing in our hearts.

The next phase in this unfolding revelation of God’s love is the Incarnation. This is not a desperate salvage job, where God has to intervene in human history to help set it right. We already see him intervening continuously throughout the Old Testament, through the covenant which He kept so lovingly and faithfully and His People kept so badly. The Incarnation is God breaking directly, physically, into history in human form in the person of Jesus. In fact, the great Franciscan Duns Scotus made a powerful argument that the Incarnation is God’s primary redemptive act. He said that the Incarnation was first and foremost in God’s mind from the beginning. It could not have been dependent on, or occasioned by, any action of humans, especially sin.

All of Jesus’ work was redemptive, all of it ennobled our human nature he took on for us—his healing, his teaching, and as we heard from Paul today, his obedience unto death, even death on a cross. Jesus was a prophet in a long tradition that believed in the power of suffering to atone for wrongdoing, and because he was so faithful to God’s will, he came to understand that he was to die, and that his death was a sacrifice for others. Jesus resolutely accepted his fate, and his faithfulness persisted throughout his terrible suffering and into his death. But so did the Father’s outpouring of love. We know that because Jesus was raised from the dead, and we are given new life in the Kingdom that came about as a result. And yet that Kingdom is often so difficult to realize. We still suffer. You do, I do. I think of my long walk with my brother down the road to his death from brain cancer. I think of my friend Mary who has carried her schizophrenic brother for twenty years now. I wonder where so many Katrina victims are—they never came home again. And when I see pictures of children in Darfur it seems as though much of humankind is still nailed to a cross.

How can we find hope in our suffering, in the suffering of Jesus on the cross? How can we come to comprehend the reality that the cross contains not only the suffering but also the incarnation and the exaltation of Jesus? That it contains not only failure and scandal and pain but also victory and the promise of eternal life? Jesus already triumphed, and yet you and I here today are not yet capable of living fully in the Kingdom he established. We are more like the Hebrews wandering around in the desert, complaining about wretched food and ravaged by serpents. In the rather mysterious passage we heard earlier, Moses had to appeal to God who told him to make an image of the serpent, mount it on a pole, and to have everybody who had been bitten look at it, and as a result, actually live. God had his people confront that which terrified them, and in doing so they were healed.

The Son of Man lifted up on the cross is a dreadful sight to see. It requires us to confront not only Jesus’ suffering but our own demons, and our own suffering borne in His body. This is a powerful lesson of the cross—that we cannot turn away from suffering. We must assume our crosses as faithfully as Jesus did; we must suffer in order to be healed. In being healed we will be able to accept Jesus’ reassurance that the cross is the occasion for the great manifestation of God’s love for us, not a condemnation of the world but a promise that the world is saved.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

My God, My God, why have you abandoned me?

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 or the meditations which follow:

A Reflective Reading of the Gospel (Mark 14:12—15:47)

Adapted from Surrender, A Guide for Prayer; “The Way of the Cross”, (pp 92-93 of book four of the “Take and Receive” series, based on the Ignatian Exercises)

The Last Supper

On the first day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread,
when they sacrificed the Passover lamb,
his disciples said to him,
“Where do you want us to go
and prepare for you to eat the Passover?”
He sent two of his disciples and said to them,
“Go into the city and a man will meet you,
carrying a jar of water.
Follow him.
Wherever he enters, say to the master of the house,
‘The Teacher says, “Where is my guest room
where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?”’
Then he will show you a large upper room furnished and ready.
Make the preparations for us there.”
The disciples then went off, entered the city,
and found it just as he had told them;
and they prepared the Passover.

When it was evening, he came with the Twelve.
And as they reclined at table and were eating, Jesus said,
“Amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me,
one who is eating with me.”
They began to be distressed and to say to him, one by one,
“Surely it is not I?”
He said to them,
“One of the Twelve, the one who dips with me into the dish.
For the Son of Man indeed goes, as it is written of him,
but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed.
It would be better for that man if he had never been born.”

While they were eating,
he took bread, said the blessing,
broke it, and gave it to them, and said,
“Take it; this is my body.”
Then he took a cup, gave thanks, and gave it to them,
and they all drank from it.
He said to them,
“This is my blood of the covenant,
which will be shed for many.
Amen, I say to you,
I shall not drink again the fruit of the vine
until the day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.”

• This event surely did not go as Jesus’ disciples had planned; it was not the normal Passover meal.
• Have I ever experienced an event that did not go as I had expected? or one that I was bothered by later?

PAUSE

Jesus predicts Peter’s denial

Then, after singing a hymn,
they went out to the Mount of Olives.

Then Jesus said to them,
“All of you will have your faith shaken, for it is written:
I will strike the shepherd,
and the sheep will be dispersed.
But after I have been raised up,
I shall go before you to Galilee.”
Peter said to him,
“Even though all should have their faith shaken,
mine will not be.”
Then Jesus said to him,
"Amen, I say to you,
this very night before the cock crows twice
you will deny me three times.”
But he vehemently replied,
“Even though I should have to die with you,
I will not deny you.”
And they all spoke similarly.

• Have I ever made a promise that I found I was unable to keep? How did it make me feel? Did it change my relationship to the one to whom I had made the promise?

PAUSE

Gethsemane

Then they came to a place named Gethsemane,
and he said to his disciples,
“Sit here while I pray.”
He took with him Peter, James, and John,
and began to be troubled and distressed.
Then he said to them, “My soul is sorrowful even to death.
Remain here and keep watch.”
He advanced a little and fell to the ground and prayed
that if it were possible the hour might pass by him;
he said, “Abba, Father, all things are possible to you.
Take this cup away from me,
but not what I will but what you will.”
When he returned he found them asleep.
He said to Peter, “Simon, are you asleep?
Could you not keep watch for one hour?
Watch and pray that you may not undergo the test.
The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.”
Withdrawing again, he prayed, saying the same thing.
Then he returned once more and found them asleep,
for they could not keep their eyes open
and did not know what to answer him.
He returned a third time and said to them,
“Are you still sleeping and taking your rest?
It is enough. The hour has come.
Behold, the Son of Man is to be handed over to sinners.
Get up, let us go.
See, my betrayer is at hand.”

• Have I ever counted on friends at a stressful time in my life? How did that work out? Have I ever failed to be present to someone who needed me? How did I feel later?

PAUSE

Jesus Arrested

Then, while he was still speaking,
Judas, one of the Twelve, arrived,
accompanied by a crowd with swords and clubs
who had come from the chief priests,
the scribes, and the elders.
His betrayer had arranged a signal with them, saying,
“The man I shall kiss is the one;
arrest him and lead him away securely.”
He came and immediately went over to him and said,
“Rabbi.” And he kissed him.
At this they laid hands on him and arrested him.
One of the bystanders drew his sword,
struck the high priest’s servant, and cut off his ear.
Jesus said to them in reply,
“Have you come out as against a robber,
with swords and clubs, to seize me?
Day after day I was with you teaching in the temple area,
yet you did not arrest me;
but that the Scriptures may be fulfilled.”
And they all left him and fled.
Now a young man followed him
wearing nothing but a linen cloth about his body.
They seized him,
but he left the cloth behind and ran off naked.

• Have I ever been publicly shamed or even betrayed by a relative or friend? How did I react?

PAUSE

Jesus Before the Sanhedrin

They led Jesus away to the high priest,
and all the chief priests and the elders and the scribes came together.
Peter followed him at a distance into the high priest’s courtyard
and was seated with the guards, warming himself at the fire.
The chief priests and the entire Sanhedrin
kept trying to obtain testimony against Jesus
in order to put him to death, but they found none.
Many gave false witness against him,
but their testimony did not agree.
Some took the stand and testified falsely against him,
alleging, “We heard him say,
‘I will destroy this temple made with hands
and within three days I will build another
not made with hands.’”
Even so their testimony did not agree.
The high priest rose before the assembly and questioned Jesus,
saying, “Have you no answer?
What are these men testifying against you?”
But he was silent and answered nothing.
Again the high priest asked him and said to him,
“Are you the Christ, the son of the Blessed One?”
Then Jesus answered, “I am;
and ‘you will see the Son of Man
seated at the right hand of the Power
and coming with the clouds of heaven.’”
At that the high priest tore his garments and said,
“What further need have we of witnesses?
You have heard the blasphemy.
What do you think?”
They all condemned him as deserving to die.
Some began to spit on him.
They blindfolded him and struck him and said to him, “Prophesy!”
And the guards took him and beat him.

• Have I ever experienced being misunderstood, “condemned” unfairly? How did I deal with it? Did Jesus come to mind, or the example of someone else?

PAUSE

Peter Disowns Jesus

While Peter was below in the courtyard,
one of the high priest’s maids came along.
Seeing Peter warming himself,
she looked intently at him and said,
“You too were with the Nazarene, Jesus.”
But he denied it saying,
“I neither know nor understand what you are talking about.”
So he went out into the outer court.
Then the cock crowed.
The maid saw him and began again to say to the bystanders,
“This man is one of them.”
Once again he denied it.
A little later the bystanders said to Peter once more,
“Surely you are one of them; for you too are a Galilean.”
He began to curse and to swear,
“I do not know this man about whom you are talking.”
And immediately a cock crowed a second time.
Then Peter remembered the word that Jesus had said to him,
“Before the cock crows twice you will deny me three times.”
He broke down and wept.

• Has fear of embarrassment or losing my reputation at work, at home with relatives, or out with friends ever caused me to deny a conversation, an action, or a relationship and to lie about what was really true?
• Have I dealt with it?

PAUSE

Jesus Before Pilate

As soon as morning came,
the chief priests with the elders and the scribes,
that is, the whole Sanhedrin held a council.
They bound Jesus, led him away, and handed him over to Pilate.
Pilate questioned him,
“Are you the king of the Jews?”
He said to him in reply, “You say so.”
The chief priests accused him of many things.
Again Pilate questioned him,
“Have you no answer?
See how many things they accuse you of.”
Jesus gave him no further answer, so that Pilate was amazed.

Now on the occasion of the feast he used to release to them
one prisoner whom they requested.
A man called Barabbas was then in prison
along with the rebels who had committed murder in a rebellion.
The crowd came forward and began to ask him
to do for them as he was accustomed.
Pilate answered,
“Do you want me to release to you the king of the Jews?”
For he knew that it was out of envy
that the chief priests had handed him over.
But the chief priests stirred up the crowd
to have him release Barabbas for them instead.
Pilate again said to them in reply,
“Then what do you want me to do
with the man you call the king of the Jews?”
They shouted again, “Crucify him.”
Pilate said to them, “Why? What evil has he done?”
They only shouted the louder, “Crucify him.”
So Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd,
released Barabbas to them and, after he had Jesus scourged,
handed him over to be crucified.

• How did I react in the face of anger and hatred, when a bunch of people turned on me, made fun of me, or worse?
• Was I silent and dignified, was I belligerent and accusatory, or did I react in another way?

PAUSE

The Crucifixion of Jesus

The soldiers led him away inside the palace,
that is, the praetorium, and assembled the whole cohort.
They clothed him in purple and,
weaving a crown of thorns, placed it on him.
They began to salute him with, "Hail, King of the Jews!”
and kept striking his head with a reed and spitting upon him.
They knelt before him in homage.
And when they had mocked him,
they stripped him of the purple cloak,
dressed him in his own clothes,
and led him out to crucify him.

They pressed into service a passer-by, Simon,
a Cyrenian, who was coming in from the country,
the father of Alexander and Rufus,
to carry his cross.

They brought him to the place of Golgotha
—which is translated Place of the Skull.
They gave him wine drugged with myrrh,
but he did not take it.
Then they crucified him and divided his garments
by casting lots for them to see what each should take.
It was nine o’clock in the morning when they crucified him.
The inscription of the charge against him read,
“The King of the Jews.”
With him they crucified two revolutionaries,
one on his right and one on his left.
Those passing by reviled him,
shaking their heads and saying,
“Aha! You who would destroy the temple
and rebuild it in three days,
save yourself by coming down from the cross.”
Likewise the chief priests, with the scribes,
mocked him among themselves and said,
“He saved others; he cannot save himself.
Let the Christ, the King of Israel,
come down now from the cross
that we may see and believe.”
Those who were crucified with him also kept abusing him.

• I think of someone who, like Simon, was there to lift a cross from my shoulders. Have I ever expressed gratitude? How would it feel to be mocked and laughed at when I am in physical or emotional pain?

PAUSE

The Death of Jesus

At noon darkness came over the whole land
until three in the afternoon.
And at three o’clock Jesus cried out in a loud voice,
“Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?”
which is translated,
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
Some of the bystanders who heard it said,
“Look, he is calling Elijah.”
One of them ran, soaked a sponge with wine, put it on a reed
and gave it to him to drink saying,
“Wait, let us see if Elijah comes to take him down.”
Jesus gave a loud cry and breathed his last.

Kneel and pause for a short time.

The veil of the sanctuary was torn in two from top to bottom.
When the centurion who stood facing him
saw how he breathed his last he said,
“Truly this man was the Son of God!”
There were also women looking on from a distance.
Among them were Mary Magdalene,
Mary the mother of the younger James and of Joses, and Salome.
These women had followed him when he was in Galilee
and ministered to him.
There were also many other women
who had come up with him to Jerusalem.

• Have I ever felt alone or forsaken by everyone, wondering if even God forgot me?
• Did I fail to notice those who actually were there for me?

PAUSE

The Burial of Jesus

When it was already evening,
since it was the day of preparation,
the day before the Sabbath, Joseph of Arimathea,
a distinguished member of the council,
who was himself awaiting the kingdom of God,
came and courageously went to Pilate
and asked for the body of Jesus.
Pilate was amazed that he was already dead.
He summoned the centurion
and asked him if Jesus had already died.
And when he learned of it from the centurion,
he gave the body to Joseph.
Having bought a linen cloth, he took him down,
wrapped him in the linen cloth,
and laid him in a tomb that had been hewn out of the rock.
Then he rolled a stone against the entrance to the tomb.
Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses
watched where he was laid.

• What in my life holds me entombed? Where in my life do I experience death?

At the conclusion of the reading, reflect on the part or line that touched you the most.

Reflection Questions

• What is there about Jesus that draws me to him and keeps me as his follower?
• What can I do to reflect Jesus’ simplicity and humility in my daily actions?
• What, exactly, do we expect of our religious and civil leaders—magical powers to fix what is broken in our lives and our government, or a beacon of right thinking and right action?
• Jesus’ passion refers to His willingness to accept powerlessness, to receive, without physical resistance, what was being done to him. Have I ever been in a situation where I was not in control? How frustrated was I? Did I consider giving the experience back to God as Jesus did?
• In what ways is God passive? According to Nouwen, it is in waiting for our response to God’s love instead of commanding it… Can I think of times in my life when I realized I could not be pro-active, but had to be passive, waiting for another’s action?
• Has there been a time in my life when I was treated unfairly? How did I react?
• Have I ever counted on friends to be with me in a stressful time in my life? Were they there for me or did they “fall asleep”?
• Peter denied Jesus three times. What is a time when I found it difficult to witness to the values I believe in?
• In His poignant words on the cross, there is a suggestion that Jesus might have felt completely abandoned by God at that moment.
  Have I ever felt abandoned by someone I counted on to have my back? Was it true? How did I react?
  Have I ever felt abandoned by God? Was it true? How did I react?
• Do I really believe that “with the Lord there is mercy and redemption” (Psalm 130)? Why or why not?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style:

I read Mark 14:22–42. I imagine that I was one of the disciples asked to accompany Jesus as he went to the garden of Gethsemane to pray. I had plenty to eat and drink, and the night was so quiet. I could hear the far-off laughter from other homes as people celebrated the Seder meal. I could hear animals rustling in the dark, and then the quiet, even breathing of my two companions. In the dimness, I could see the shape of Jesus all by himself in a distant part of the Garden. He was sort of hunched over, folded in on himself. He seemed alone. I must admit that I was a little pleased when asked to be one of those to accompany him outside, but I felt a little rejected by his desire to go off alone. Why did he ask us to come in the first place? Sometimes, that man was an enigma. The others and I started to talk, but the conversation seemed flat somehow. I tried then to pray, but I kept falling asleep. He came back a couple of times and quietly woke us, but just as quietly he returned to his former position far from us. We were so embarrassed to be caught napping, but, really, there was nothing to do. Only later did we come to realize what Jesus was doing and what agony he was going through. After the soldiers came, I couldn’t look him in the eye; I was so ashamed. I often wonder what Jesus thought as he prayed there in the garden. I wonder if he thought we let him down in some way? I will never be able to explain or apologize for my failure. I often wonder what I could have done for him had I known. Every now and then, the scene returns to my mind and I try to share with Jesus my thoughts and feelings about his agony. Somehow, I think he understood and still understands.

—Anne Greenfield, from Songs of Life: Psalm Meditations from the Catholic Community at Stanford

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

Spend some time listening to music meditations on the Passion… Can any of these pieces help you identify and understand what Jesus was going through?

• Faure: Requiem
• Bach: St. Matthew Passion
• Haydn: The Seven Last Words of Christ

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

Pick one segment from the Palm Sunday Gospel, and imagine yourself in the scene. Which scene especially speaks to you? Take the place of each of the characters and flesh out the events. With whom do you identify, sympathize, take issue? Why? Where do you actually see yourself in those events? Be honest. Speak to Jesus about your triumphs of spirit and your failings in this very human condition we call life and relationships.

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

Jesus: A Victim of Capital Punishment

We worship a God whose Son died as a common criminal despite His innocence. During this week when we recall the execution of Jesus Christ, we remember that our Pope and Bishops call us as Catholic Christians to work for an end to the death penalty in our state and in our nation. The Catholic bishops of the United States issued a paper in 2005 called “A Culture of Life and the Penalty of Death.” They acknowledged that sentences such as “life in prison without parole” provide non-lethal alternatives and called for an end to the use of the death penalty in the United States, stating “it is time for our nation to abandon the illusion that we can protect life by taking life.”

What can you do?

• Form your conscience by studying the United States Catholic Bishops’ statements (http://www.usccb.org/deathpenalty/) or learning more about People of Faith Against the Death Penalty (https://www.facebook.com/pfadp/)
• Be aware. Be vocal. Contact your local and national legislators.

Literary Reflection:

Enjoy this very poignant picture of the scene in Jerusalem, which is described in our Entrance gospel on Palm Sunday:

“The Poet Thinks of the Donkey”

On the outskirts of Jerusalem
the donkey waited.
Not especially brave, or filled with understanding,
he stood and waited.

How horses, turned out into the meadow,
leap with delight!
How doves, released from their cages,
clatter away, splashed with sunlight.

But the donkey, tied to a tree as usual, waited.
Then he let himself be led away.
Then he let the stranger mount.

Never had he seen such crowds!
And I wonder if he at all imagined what was to happen.
Still, he was what he had always been: small, dark, obedient.

I hope, finally, he felt brave.
I hope, finally, he loved the man who rode so lightly upon him,
as he lifted one dusty hoof and stepped, as he had to, forward.

—Mary Oliver

Literary Reflection:

Read W.S. Di Piero’s poem “Gethsemane” (from The Restorers). How does it feel to be the betrayer? Have I ever disappointed or betrayed anyone? How did I feel?

“Gethsemane”

He had nerve enough to follow,
dogging his heels, for what? To learn
a new vocabulary, a prayer,
down there in yellow iris that smelled
like carcass? He came back smiling.
The dog had its day, rolling in meat.
This meat was news: The Word of God
wants what we want, to be unchosen.

He must have made up his mind then
What if he said, I don't see Him here,
we’ll check later? Instead he gagged
on words, like a mouthful of water
brought from the garden, that blood squirms
from the blossom loads and cracked boughs,
and in the stagnant lake of the heart
the sprouting trunk splits, groans,
spilling wine, the spongy dirt
inhaling any blood that falls,
and I'm falling into the tree
and dogs at lakeside bark at clouds.

Like that. As if his own speech could
infuriate time while he waited
for an act to come upon him
(as joy sometimes happens). The soldiers
(were they his joy?) got impatient.
So finally his bloodless lips
screamed More life! More salt!
before he gave away his kiss.

Now read this poem by Mary Oliver. How is its emphasis a little different?

“Gethsemane”

The grass never sleeps.
Or the roses.
Nor does the lily have a secret eye that shuts until morning.
Jesus said, wait with me. But the disciples slept.

The cricket has such splendid fringe on his feet,
and it sings, have you noticed, with its whole body,
and heaven knows if it ever sleeps.

Jesus said, wait with me. And maybe the stars did, maybe
the wind wound itself into a silver tree, and didn’t move.
Maybe the lake far away, where once he walked
as on a blue pavement,
lay still and waited, wild awake.

Oh the dear bodies, slumped and eye-shut, that could not
keep that vigil, how they must have wept,
so utterly human, knowing this too
must be part of the story.

Closing Prayer

Jesus, give us the lessons we need to learn from your last days commemorated here today. You showed us love and mercy, even unto death. Your cross declares solidarity with all those who suffer, especially… [Take time to think of a person or people in particular for whom you wish to pray.] Be with those in pain, in need, those facing ruin or death. Give us the ability to find joy in our sorrows. Just as you were able to transform your last days into grace, forgiveness and eventually resurrection, help us to transform the difficulties WE face into grace, forgiveness and new life in you… Amen.

Fifth Sunday in Lent, March 21, 2021

There is joy in surrendering to God’s will (God is not you)

John 12:20–33

Some Greeks who had come to worship at the Passover Feast
came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee,
and asked him, “Sir, we would like to see Jesus.”
Philip went and told Andrew;
then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus.
Jesus answered them,
“The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.
Amen, amen, I say to you,
unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies,
it remains just a grain of wheat;
but if it dies, it produces much fruit.
Whoever loves his life loses it,
and whoever hates his life in this world
will preserve it for eternal life.
Whoever serves me must follow me,
and where I am, there also will my servant be.
The Father will honor whoever serves me.

“I am troubled now. Yet what should I say?
‘Father, save me from this hour’?
But it was for this purpose that I came to this hour.
Father, glorify your name.”
Then a voice came from heaven,
“I have glorified it and will glorify it again.”
The crowd there heard it and said it was thunder;
but others said, “An angel has spoken to him.”
Jesus answered and said,
“This voice did not come for my sake but for yours.
Now is the time of judgment on this world;
now the ruler of this world will be driven out.
And when I am lifted up from the earth,
I will draw everyone to myself.”
He said this indicating the kind of death he would die.

Music Meditations

• “The Lord’s Prayer” (sung by Andrea Bocelli, feat. The Mormon Tabernacle Choir) [YouTube]
• “The Summons” (John L. Bell) [YouTube]
• “The Servant Song” (sung by Maranatha! Vocal Band) [YouTube]

Opening Prayer

Adapted from Thomas Merton in Book of Hours:

Almighty and merciful God, teach us to belong; suffering in uncertainty, teach us to wait and trust.
Be with those in sorrow and uncertainty at this time, especially… [Take time to think of a particular person you wish to pray for.]
Teach us to seek peace where it is truly found, and thence to BE peace for others.
In your will, O God, is our peace… Amen.

Companions for the Journey

From “First Impressions 2012”, a service of the Southern Dominican Province:

We are well into Lent and, if we have been praying and reflecting, we have probably been made aware of ways we have fallen short in our covenant with God. Our reading from Hebrews reminds us that Jesus was not an other-worldly creature disguised as a human. He did not live above the world of the body, detached from suffering and limitation. Instead, he took on our human state sharing with us our common lot—even unto death. Indeed, he prayed with “loud cries” to God; the way we do when life presses us down. His cries were accompanied by tears. His prayers, though heard by God, did not spare him from suffering. He may have prayed, not to escape suffering, but that God’s love would support him in it. And God’s love did.

As much as we would like it to be otherwise, when we accept the cross and Jesus’ way of living, we cannot escape pain. But Hebrews also suggests to us that by accepting the cross we will be transformed into the mind and heart of Jesus. Paul would say we are educated in Christ and have put on the mind of Christ; that is, we will think and act towards one another like Christ (Philippians 2:1–11).

Throughout John’s Gospel Jesus had been saying that his “hour” had not yet come. He wasn’t continually looking up at the sun to reckon the time. His “hour” refers to his hour of glory, when he would return to his Father by his passage through suffering, death and resurrection. Today he announces, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.” What caused him to make that announcement at this time? The “Greeks,” from the Hellenistic world (representing the world beyond Judaism), had come seeking him. In the preceding verse the Pharisees spelled it out, “See, this is getting us nowhere. Look how the whole world has gone after him!”

But the outreach to the Gentile world would only happen after Jesus’ death and resurrection. The “grain of wheat” must first die in order to produce “much fruit.” All humanity will be saved by Jesus’ death and glorification. The world comes looking for light in its darkness and we, illumined by our faith, provide that light by the sacrifice of ourselves for the well-being of others. What Jesus said of himself, is also said of his followers, “The grain of wheat must die in order to produce much fruit.” Then the Gentiles, who asked, “to see Jesus,” will discover his light in us and they will “see” the Lord.

Jesus says that those who wish to serve him must follow his path. How do we gain access to our glorified Lord? Not primarily through the occasional phenomena of visions and miracles, but first by accepting the gospel and then, in response to what we have heard, by a life of service and dying to self. Jesus teaches that we lose our life when we cling to it and win our life when we are ready to give it up. He is inviting his disciples to follow his path of service into glory.

The “glory of God” here means discovering the presence of God who, at first, is hidden. We look in the wrong places with the wrong expectations. The gospel invites us to see God shining forth in Jesus’ crucifixion; God shown to us in loving service for all humankind. We don’t want to romanticize Christ’s suffering. He died in a cruel and agonizing way. The forces of darkness crushed life out of him. Yet on the cross the world’s darkness was defeated because of Christ’s love.

Contrary to all our usual instincts and logical conclusions, Christ invites us to follow him even when his ways seems foolish and defeated. To belong to Christ means a willingness to participate in his “hour” so as to come to know that resurrection, as improbable as it may seem at times, is the final glory in which we will share. We, baptized into Christ’s life and death, have resurrection-lens. We don’t shrink from following Jesus into the daily dyings because we already “see” the end of the story—his and our resurrection.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, my servant will also be.

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 or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

• What are the criteria I use when I make important decisions?
• When I pray, do I ask God to grant my wishes, or to show me what He wishes for me?
• When we say “Thy will be done,” what do we mean?
  How do we know God’s will? What are some ways of discerning God’s will for us?
• What freedom can we derive from submission to God’s will that we cannot derive in any other way?
• What is the difference to me between submission and blind obedience? What is my attitude toward either posture?
• Does God want us to suffer? What does that say about the role of pleasure and enjoyment in our lives? Does God always ask us to choose the more difficult or unpleasant option when we have a decision to make? Is that what “hating your life” means?
• What does it mean to me to lose one’s life, in the gospel sense?
• “Whoever serves me must follow me.” What does that mean?
• What are my priorities in life? (“Where your treasure is, there lies your heart.”)
• Have I ever made a choice or behaved in a way that I knew was distinctly not what God might will for me?
• If I have made mistakes, is that proof that I was not doing God’s will?
• What is the personal price to me of surrender to God’s will? (Some examples: I am not in charge of anything that comes out of my mouth or any of my actions, or I must not have ambition, or goals, or riches, or I must always choose the least desirable option, for that is God’s will.)
• What method or discipline do I have that helps me listen to my heart?
• What do I need to be simplified and cleared away to help that listening process?
• In what way will I “be lifted up”?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Dominican style/Asking Questions:

We are invited to look at our gifts and choices and instead of telling God what WE want, we wait to find out what God hopes and desires for us, confident that God will reveal such hope to us. The end result is to desire only what God wants for us, and by doing so, to find God in all things. This section of the poem “Ash Wednesday,” by T. S. Eliot, captures this belief and this hope:

Blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated
And let my cry come unto Thee.

What does it mean "to care and not to care"? What do you think God might be calling you to right this very moment? Is it something you want, or maybe, is it something you have refused to consider? Is it a course correction in your behavior or attitudes? Allow God to speak to you, giving you reassurance that all will be well, and ask for the grace to know and draw closer to Jesus’ will for your life.

A Meditation in the Ignation style/Imagination:

Read Luke 1:26–32 (The Annunciation).

Let’s look at this little village in Galilee, in a poor, hardscrabble land, far away from the seats of power in Jerusalem.
An unimportant backwater, in a land that used to belong to Samaria.
Scene of revolutions and trouble. Not a peaceful place.
What does Mary’s house look like? Is it in a big garden and quiet, or is it part of a noisy and crowded group of huts and lean-to’s that might comprise a village in this time? Does Mary have her own room? What does her father do for a living? Is she rich or poor?

How old is Mary? What does she look like? What do I think she is doing at the opening of this tale? What does that reveal to me about her? How do I define virginity? Am I interested in the gynecology or the spirituality? Have I ever heard of virginity defined as a state of being unattached—open and available to the movement of the spirit? Is that what Mary was?

• In what sense am I available to the movement of God's spirit in me?
  What holds me back?—
  Fears… prejudices… greed… a need to control the results… the need for success… jealousy… resentments… attachments to things or people that are getting in the way… perfectionism (“Jesus did not call us to be perfect, He called us to be faithful.” —Mother Teresa)… sheer laziness?—
  What holds me back?

How does the angel announce himself? What does he look like? What is the expression on his face? Does she know who or what he is? Is it impossible for her to consider that God might have sent him? Or is it her imagination playing tricks on her?

• Who reveals to me the mysterious presence of God in my life?

What does the angel mean by “Hail, favored one”?

• Have I ever felt favored by God?
  When?

What does the angel say is going to happen? How bizarre does that seem to her? Was it a stretch for her to think that all this would happen to her, stuck in this little backwater of a village, someone of no importance at all? What is she supposed to do?

• Is God asking me to do something right now that seems impossible?
  Has it happened in the past?
  What was my answer?
  What will it be now?

What does the angel tell her about her future?
Does the angel lay out a blueprint for Mary—telling here in great detail what the scenario would be? What virtue does she need to answer the request? courage? obedience?
We are told of Mary’s meek obedience. No one mentions courage.

What will people think? In addition, in her tiny village, where everyone knows everyone else and many people are related to one another, everyone knows that she and the man who is already her legal husband have not yet begun to live together. But all of them can count to nine. What will they say about her, what kinds of nasty looks will they cast her way when her precious child is born too soon? What will Joseph think? How easy or hard is this decision for Mary?

• When has doing God’s will been easy for me?
  When has it been hard?
  Do I know what God’s will might be for me right at this moment? If not, how do I discern God’s will for me? What is the role of prayer in my discernment process?

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Discernment:

One of the hallmarks of Ignatian Spirituality is a discipline called “Active Indifference”.

A Meditation on Active Indifference:

Open to the gospel for this week.

Be aware that you are in the presence of the Living God, the One who beholds you with compassion and delight and who is relentless in seeking to bless you with all that is good.

Ask for the Grace/Desire being sought: “I want to know and long more deeply for the God who cherishes me and seeks to fill me with deep life.”

Prayer:

Lord, mighty God, You offer me so much. You give me so many days and years, so many strengths and abilities, so many rich things and splendid technological devices, and You surround me with so many whom I love. Teach me this one thing above all, Lord: How I am to choose. Then I hope to return to You as many wonders as You have poured out on me.
Through Christ Jesus, My Lord and good brother. Amen.

Silent Meditation:

My life world offers me a welter of wonderful things—careers, places to live, consumer goods, travel, various educations. After I have set my face against anything sinful, how will I decide which among them to go for?

I could choose in several ways. First, I could simply follow fad and fashion. Hankering after the latest clothes and activities and trips, I could do what everyone else is doing right now.

Or second, I could simply follow my own native taste. If I grew up loving open country, I could choose to live in a suburb simply because I prefer it and for no other reason. If my natural preferences lead me to pursue some profession, I could simply follow that lead, figuring that God would not make me hanker for something that would do me harm.

Or third, I could set some definite goal for myself, to bring me to transcend myself, reach fulfillment, and do some real good for others. For example, I could ambition being a federal judge or having total financial security or making some important discovery in genetics. Then I could aim everything toward that goal.

A fourth way would be more difficult. I could begin with the premise that I will never do anything to break my relationship with God my Lord, but will choose only what my conscience freely allows. Then I will wait to find out what God hopes for in me. To achieve this mind-set, I have to believe that I can know what God hopes in me, and I have to hope that I can find that out. I will also have to hold tremendously careful balance among all the welter of wonderful things that my life world offers me. I will not let myself get so stuck on any of them that it will incline me to this or that decision. That would mean that I would not follow the first or second way of choosing by doing what everyone is now doing, or by merely following my own native preferences and not even the third by setting my own life goal for myself without asking God what my Creator wants in me. To put that another way: I would not try to tell God what will make me happy (that judgeship or a heap of money or a brilliant scientific career). I will wait to find out what God has been hoping in me and live confident that it will make me happy.

Of course, I cannot sit back and expect God to strike me the way God struck Paul of Tarsus. I have to pray, and consider, and take counsel with trusted friends. I have to attend to what the whole Church now engages in and hopes for, and what the official teachers (bishops and theologians in their own ways) are teaching. I have to try this or that and see how it goes. But I will always be hoping to find God desiring in me, God shaping my life world, God bringing the Reign to reality. I hope to find what God wants first, and then I will decide what I let myself want and what I will choose.

Holding this kind of indifference among God’s almost infinite number of gifts makes a person a great force for good. What a power she is who does not much care where she lives as long as God’s hopes are being realized! What a power he is who does not much care whether he lives wealthy or not, only as long as God’s justice is being done! Such a person truly finds God in all things, God creating, God raising up justice and peace in all things, God working busily so that no one will be lost, but everyone brought to the Reign.

Conclude the Period of Prayer:

Have a simple conversation with God about what happened during the prayer, thanking God, asking that the grace/desire you prayed for continues to deepen throughout the day and week. End with the Lord’s Prayer. (Your Kingdom come…)

Literary Reflection:

Read the following, looking for the connection between personal choices we make and doing God’s will:

“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.

—Mary Oliver

Commentary (excerpted and adapted from ten poems to change your life by Roger Housden):

Everything hangs on that first step. It is not enough to know; you have to begin… In a lucid moment like this the mind is quiet with a tender certainty. It is time to start walking, to stand by the truth you may have known all along but were not ready until this moment to call by a true name… You do not even know what you are headed toward. Yet the first step can only ever be taken in darkness. You cannot know where it will take you, …the entire undertaking relies on the unreasonableness of faith. Faith is unreasonable because it rests on no tangible evidence. It is beyond even belief. The person of faith does not expect everything to turn out the way they want it to…

However you understand it in the context of your own life, Mary Oliver’s “The Journey” speaks to the birth of a new self… If there is one word that can describe the voice [of this self], it is the word authentic. This new self does not walk away from the world, but into it. It wants to plunge into life with dedication and commitment… In daring to do that, you do not leave the human community behind; on the contrary, you affirm your belonging within it, and your identification with the joys and struggles of all.

You cannot know where that voice will take you. But being willing “to save the only life you could save,” you are affirming one of the deepest and most sobering truths of all: no one else can walk your journey for you. You alone can respond to your call.

Conclusion:
from “Little Gidding” (Four Quartets) by T.S. Eliot:

With the drawing of this Love and the voice of this Calling
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time

Closing Prayer

From Thomas Merton:

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.
[Pause for reflection.]
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.
[Pause for reflection.]
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.

Fourth Sunday in Lent, March 14, 2021

Rejoice! You are loved by God

John 3:14–21

Jesus said to Nicodemus:
“Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness,
so the Son of Man must be lifted up,
15 that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.”

16 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son,
that whoever believes in him shall not perish
but have eternal life.
17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world,
but to save the world through him.
18 Whoever believes in him is not condemned,
but whoever does not believe stands condemned already
because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son.
19 This is the verdict:
Light has come into the world,
but people loved darkness instead of light
because their deeds were evil.
20 Everyone who does evil hates the light,
and will not come into the light
for fear that their deeds will be exposed.
21 But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light,
so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done
has been done in the sight of God.

Music Meditations

• “I Have Loved You” (by Michael Joncas) [YouTube]
• “In Christ Alone” (lyrics by Chris Tomlin) [YouTube]
• “Give Me Jesus” (sung by Fernando Ortega) [YouTube]
• “Ahavat Olam (Song of Thanksgiving)” (sung by by Ben, Jonah and Henry Platt) [YouTube]

Opening Prayer

God, you are rich in mercy because of your great love for us, even when we have been steeped on our own bad behavior. Bring us to life in Jesus, raise us up with him, and, when our time on earth is complete, seat us in the heavens with him. For we are your handiwork, created in Christ for the good work you have prepared in advance so we may live with and in Him forever.

Companions for the Journey

By Sara Henrich:

The central verse in this passage is perhaps the best known Bible verse in the world. John 3:16 shows up in many public places. Hoisted on posters, etched on jewelry, and isolated from this passage, “For God so loved the world…” has become emblematic of the central message of Christian faith. This centrality is not undeserved. The power of this verse, however, is enhanced when it is read carefully and in context. The lectionary divides Jesus’ speech to Nicodemus, which begins in 3:11 and extends to 3:21, at verse 14. The passage begins with a play on the word “lift up.” It describes God’s command to Moses to lift up the serpent in the wilderness and the lifting up that is in store for Jesus. The passage makes little sense without the background story from Numbers 21:4–9. In that narrative, the people became “impatient” on their way. Still in the wilderness after their departure from Egypt, and despairing of being able to survive in a land with no food and water, they complained against God and Moses. Consequently, terrible serpents appeared, bit the people, and killed them. When they repented, the Lord told Moses to make a serpent and set it on a pole so that anyone who had been bitten might look at it and live. The serpent was a mark of God’s anger and God’s mercy. God’s people might be saved by the God of life, if only they would look upon the image of that which would have brought about their death. To see the Son of Man lifted up calls for “belief” for the sake of eternal life, not simply a restoration of earthly life. God once saved the people by calling upon them to gaze on the serpent. Now, God would save the people by having them gaze in belief upon the Son, lifted up.

Next comes John 3:16, in which the “so” is often misunderstood. The Greek houtos means “so” in the sense of “just so,” or “in this way,” or the more archaic, “thusly.” We could translate the verse as “This is the way God loved the world, with the result that he gave his only Son, in order that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16 is not about how much God loved the world. It is about in what way God loved the world. The single most important thing to notice about this verse is that God loved the world. God deeply loved the world that God created, and God longs for this creation to live. It is not only God’s own people whom God will save, as in the Numbers story. It is the cosmos that God has loved, precisely by having given the only son. God loved by having given the son, a non-coercive act that sets in motion real consequences. Yet God’s action was not disinterested. The purpose of God’s having sent the Son was to save the world. The son came to save, to grant eternal life because God loved the world. That was Jesus’ announcement. I’m here because the God who loved you of old, still does. He sent me to tell you, to show you, to gather you up into life with him forever. Jesus’ coming is like the bringing of a light into a dark space. The contrast of light and dark is intense. Indeed, the coming of the Son into the world leads to numerous pairs of contrasting realities:

• condemn and save
• believe and not believe
• stay in the darkness and come into the light
• do evil and doing what is true

These opposites express the sharp distinction that is created when our dark cosmos is entered by the light of God. Like the people in the story in Numbers, we have already been bitten or are in imminent danger of being bitten. Death is inevitable. When the bronze serpent is brought into the world, we look and live, or we do not. As Jesus comes into the world, we trust that which bears God’s gracious love, or we do not. We receive eternal life or we continue to live apart from God, condemned. If this begins to sound like a theology that demands our deciding to believe or not, we have several reminders in the context that help us to hear more deeply what John wants to say.

First, these verses are embedded in a story where Jesus continues to engage, argue, and persuade people who are slowly transformed into believers. In John 3, Nicodemus is the seeker by night who is left in confusion, only to reappear in 19:39 to help care for Jesus’ body. He has emerged from darkness into light over the course of Jesus’ ministry.

So also the Samaritan woman of John 4 whose long conversation with Jesus ends in a tentative belief, far from where she first began. Consider the blind man healed in John 9, whose move from darkness to light happens rather quickly in physiological terms, but more slowly in terms of identifying Jesus. The intense contrast between believing and not believing, darkness and light, and evil and truth are descriptions of realities, but not of the process by which human beings come to recognize truth, light, life, and God’s own son.

Finally, verses 18–21 follow the first and most important contrast, the contrasting ways to depict God’s own goal and longing. God’s way of loving the world was to send the Son to save it. Jesus is God’s expression of love and longing. The light comes to find us, to illuminate our path for our sake, because God wants us. God reaches out through the Son with the sheer purpose of sharing everlasting life with us.

Yes, John tells us there are real consequences in our daily life and our everlasting relationship with God. But he tells us in order to help us see the contrasts, look clearly at our lives, appreciate the gracious gift of God as a gift of love, and live in fearless confidence of that love. Have we ever been so truly and consistently desired by another as we are by God? No indeed. God loved the world in this way that he gave the Son so that we might live forever with God.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

God so loved the world that He sent His only son

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 or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

• What am I grateful for?
• Do I find it hard to express gratitude to others in my life? What holds me back?
• Whom do I resent or whom do I envy? How do those two emotions interfere with my sense of gratitude?
• Has anyone in my life been a mirror of God’s love for me? Have I told her so?
• Have I ever withheld love from someone who clearly wanted my love? What was my reason? (I disapproved of his actions, she irritated me, or I liked the power that this person’s apparent “neediness” gave me, or something else.)
  How did it make me feel?
• From Jude Sicliano, O.P.:
  What do I see when I look at the cross?
  How does the cross affect the Christian life I try to lead?
• What do I think John 3:16 really means?
• Do I secretly harbor a fear of being judged by God and do not really believe the words of John 3:16?
  What would help me overcome fear which cannot coexist with love?
• Am I afraid of perishing?
  What are my thoughts about eternal life?
• What does it mean to believe in Jesus?
  Is there a corresponding action to my belief?
  Some have suggested that believing in Jesus equates with receiving Jesus… what would it mean to receive Jesus?
• Have I ever done or said anything that I would prefer never saw the light of day?
• From Sister Barbara Reid, O.P., PhD:
  Is there a darkness in your life where the Light wants to shine?
  What is the choice you face at this time to embrace more fully the Light?
  What does Earth teach us about coming to the Light?
• Adapted from “Sacred Space,” a service of the Irish Jesuits:
  God does not force us to be saved; we have free will. Looking back on the last 24 hours, where have I chosen wisely and where have I chosen unwisely?
• Where is the darkness in the world right now?
  In what instances do people in our world right now love the darkness rather than the light?
• Are the statements in verse 17 and 18 contradictory?
  Can I think of a time in Jesus’ life when he spoke words of condemnation?
  Can I think of a time in Jesus’ life where he lived out his description of not coming to condemn the world?
• Do we sometimes forget that we are not required to condemn others—that it is God’s job?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

“God rejoices. Not because the problems of the world have been solved, not because all human pain and suffering have come to an end. Not because thousands of people have been converted and are not praising him for his goodness. No, God rejoices because one of his children who was lost has been found.” (Henri Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son, p.114)

God is continually offering us the opportunity to rejoice with him at his holy banquet, if we can tear ourselves away from our own affairs to attend. What in your life distracts you from being joyful in the Lord? What can you do during this Lenten season to slow down and take joy in God’s love and care for you?

How are joy and gratitude related? What are you grateful for this very moment? If you cannot think of anything, ask yourself what is blocking you from the simple appreciation of the good things you do have in favor of bemoaning the things you don’t have. Once you have come up with something (or maybe even many things to be grateful to God for, sit in God’s presence, expressing your thankfulness and joy.

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

We all know someone who is not quite satisfied with his/her gifts. Perhaps she wishes to be taller, more athletic; perhaps he wishes to be smarter, a better artist, or to have a talent for acting. Resolve to spend some time this week reinforcing his sense of giftedness, or helping her to see that she is God’s work of art. Examples:

“Each day is a gift from God. What you do with it is your gift to Him.” (T.D. Hakes)

Keep a gratitude journal, making entries twice a week at least. Note the times you were aware of God’s blessings, and especially God’s presence in your life. Especially note what you did each day to return God’s gift to him. For example: Did you share your joy with him? Did you thank someone for what she has done for you or your family? Did you avoid criticism and judgmentalism and instead, did you extend yourself to someone who seems to need a friend, or simple reassurance that he is valued? Where does your circle of love need to be expanded?

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

Read Luke 17:11–19 (Jesus Heals Ten Men With Leprosy):

Now on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus traveled along the border between Samaria and Galilee. As he was going into a village, ten men who had leprosy met him. They stood at a distance and called out in a loud voice, “Jesus, Master, have pity on us!”

When he saw them, he said, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were cleansed.

One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him—and he was a Samaritan.

Jesus asked, “Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?” Then he said to him, “Rise and go; your faith has made you well.”

Imagine that border between Samaria and Galilee. What does the terrain look like? What time of day is it? What are the sights and smells that surround you? Now imagine that you are a man with leprosy, waiting along the path for…what? Are others around? What does this disease feel like? Where is your family? When you look at the other lepers, what do you see? Do they smell? Why are you at some distance from other travelers? When you see Jesus, how does he look to you? Is he big, small, handsome, ordinary looking, arrogant? She? Something in between? What is he wearing? Who is with him? Why did you call out to him? Did all of you do as he had commanded? How did you feel as you began to see healing taking place as you were walking to the priests? Why did one of you turn back? Why did you not turn back? Did you ever see Jesus in Jerusalem and get an opportunity to thank the man? Did you feel that he deserved your gratitude? Why or why not?

In your own life, think of a time when you called on God for help. What exactly, did you expect? Did you feel God owed you what you were asking for? Did God answer your pleading? Then what happened? What was your response to God? Did you thank him, no matter what the result was? Why or why not?

Literary Reflection:

Read the following poems. Can you see what habits of the heart we need to cultivate in order to appreciate all that God has done and continues to do for us? Do you focus on what you have or on what you don’t have? Do you ever think of God’s ultimate gift to us—Jesus? Pick one poem to read every day this week:

“On the mystery of the Incarnation”

It’s when we face for a moment
the worst our kind can do, and shudder to know
the taint in our own selves, that awe
cracks the mind’s shell and enters the heart:
not to a flower, not to a dolphin,
to no innocent form
but to this creature vainly sure
it and no other is god-like, God
(out of compassion for our ugly
failure to evolve) entrusts,
as guest, as brother,
the Word.

—Denise Levertov

“Two Questions”

If you provided a marriage feast
and the thankless guests crowded
at the table getting the food
without tasting it, and shoving
one another away, so that some ate
too much and some ate nothing,
would you not be offended?

If, seated at your bountiful table,
your guests picked and finicked
over the food, eating only a little,
refusing the wine and the dessert,
claiming that to fill their bellies
and rejoice would impair their souls,
would you not be offended?

—Wendell Berry

“JOY”

When it comes back to teach you
or you come back to learn
how half alive you’ve been,
how your own ignorance and arrogance
have kept you deprived—
When it comes back to you
or you yourself return,
joy is simple, unassuming.
Red tulips on their green stems,
Early spring vegetables, bright in the pan.
The primary colors of a child’s painting,
The first lessons, all over again.

—Thomas Centolella from Lights and Mysteries

“Praying”

It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones, just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest, but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

—Mary Oliver, from Thirst

“The Lanyard”

The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.

No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.

I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.

She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light

and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.

Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truth

that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.

—Billy Collins

Closing Prayer

Adapted from A Book of Hours by Thomas Merton

My Lord, you have heard the cry of my heart because it was you who cried out within in my heart. Hear the cries of those who are ill, lonely, bereaved and despairing, especially… [Take time to think of a particular person you wish to pray for.] Be with them, be with me, now and forever… Amen.

Third Sunday in Lent, March 7, 2021

Jesus’ righteous anger at the desecration in his Father’s house, our anger at the same

John 2:13–25

Since the Passover of the Jews was near, Jesus went up to Jerusalem. He found in the temple area those who sold oxen, sheep, and doves, as well as the money changers seated there. He made a whip out of cords and drove them all out of the temple area, with the sheep and oxen, and spilled the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables, and to those who sold doves he said, “Take these out of here, and stop making my Father’s house a marketplace.”

His disciples recalled the words of Scripture, Zeal for your house will consume me.

At this the Jews answered and said to him, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” Jesus answered and said to them, “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.” The Jews said, “This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and you will raise it up in three days?” But he was speaking about the temple of his body.

Therefore, when he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this, and they came to believe the Scripture and the word Jesus had spoken.

While he was in Jerusalem for the feast of Passover, many began to believe in his name when they saw the signs he was doing. But Jesus would not trust himself to them because he knew them all, and did not need anyone to testify about human nature. He himself understood it well.

Music Meditations

• “Your Words Are Spirit and Life” (composed by Bernadette Farrell and Craig Kingsbury) [YouTube]
• “Give Me Jesus” (sung by Fernando Ortega) [YouTube]
• “Psalm 19 (The Heavens Declare)” (The Psalms Project feat. Chris Heesch) [YouTube]
• “Christ in Me Arise” (composed by Trevor Thomson) [YouTube]

Opening Prayer

Excerpted from a Jewish prayer in A Lent Sourcebook from LTP Publications

Master of life and Lord of Lords, we do not rely on our own good deeds, but on your great mercy as we lay our need before you. Lord, hear! Lord, pardon! Lord, listen and act! What are we? What is our life? What is our love? What is our justice? What is our success? What is our endurance? What is our power? To you, most of our actions are pointless and daily life is shallow. Even our superiority over the beasts nothing… for everything is trivial except the pure soul which must one day give its account and reckoning before the judgement of your glory. Lord, hear! Lord, pardon!

Companions for the Journey

From “First Impressions” 2015, a service of the Southern Dominican Province:

The first three gospels place the “cleansing of the Temple” at the end of Jesus’ ministry. But John has it at the beginning. Obviously these writers weren’t interested in chronology, but theology, the meaning of the narrative for us. In today’s passage John shows Jesus fulfilling the prophetic hopes of the prophets. Malachi (3:14) and Zechariah (14:1–21) who had anticipated the messianic age when God would come “suddenly” into the Temple to “purify and cleanse it.” John is setting up the rest of his narrative. Jesus’ ministry will overturn the religious laws and drive out greed, hypocrisy and legalism in religious practice. He was going to establish a new and holy temple—the temple of his body—where God and humanity would enter into a new relationship. The scene takes place in the outer courts of the Gentiles. That’s where a variety of animals were sold for the Passover feast to pilgrims who had traveled a distance. The moneychangers would exchange foreign coins for the acceptable Temple ones. They were known to defraud people in the exchange. In a subtle touch by John, Jesus shows a milder attitude towards the sellers of doves which were the offerings of the poor. Perhaps he remembered his own parents only being able to afford doves when they went to the temple to offer sacrifice.

Prophets like Jeremiah and Zachariah had warned against corrupting the Temple. They envisioned a purified, ideal Temple, where there would be no commerce. This purified Temple would have open access to all peoples. Just previous to this passage Jesus replaced water with wine at Cana. Now he is replacing the Temple with himself. Where will people go for a full and welcome reception by God? To Jesus, whose resurrected body will be that new temple.

Jesus has not eliminated cult and worship. We are a sacramental church, but we need him to cleanse our worship. Later in the gospel Jesus will again be asked for a sign and he will offer himself as living bread, the meal through which we share in his resurrection (6:30ff). When we eat the body and drink the blood of the Lord we are aware of our need for forgiveness and the cleansing Jesus’ resurrected body brings to us. The risen Lord enters our lives, forgives our sins, cleansing us so that we can give fitting worship to our God. We become a cleansed temple. Through Jesus, the “temple raised up” in three days, we have been given forgiveness and freedom. We don’t receive them because we have followed detailed and perfect rituals, but through the gift we have received in Christ.

Jesus doesn’t just drive out the merchants and cleanse the temple. John tells us that it was preparation time for Passover. Another, more perfect Passover sacrifice is being prepared and Jesus’ death will replace the former sacrifices offered in God’s house.

Jesus’ angry actions might make some of us uncomfortable. Someone described the Jesus depicted in today’s story as “the muscular Jesus.” Sometimes the gentle images of Jesus risk making him seem too soft. But today’s depiction shows us how the wild and convicted Jesus could ruffle the religious niceties of the Temple staff and cause the Romans to begin to wonder about this brash prophet from up north. The Jesus we heard about a few weeks ago who reached out and touched the leper, is the same one who wrestled with Satan in the desert and won. This is also the Jesus who will accept and bear his cross with the same zeal for God he shows us in today’s gospel. Perhaps we do meet today “the muscular Jesus.” What was it, besides the merchants’ dishonest practices, that stirred Jesus’ anger? Perhaps it meant that the Temple wasn’t open equally to all people. What was wrong with the coinage of foreigners? Why couldn’t foreigners and their money also praise God in the same way the local Jewish population did? Doesn’t that challenge the openness and hospitality of our places of worship? Maybe we lack “zeal” for our own temple, our parish church, and attend worship merely to receive. Do we consider how we might serve and promote the gospel through our service as ministers at the altar and as representatives of our “temple” to the community? According to our gifts, our goal should be to make our “house of prayer” a welcome place for all peoples, as the zealous Jesus desires.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

Zeal for your house will consume me

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 or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

• Does the thought of an angry Jesus make me uncomfortable?
• There were two issues that might have angered Jesus as he saw what was going on in the temple precincts that day. First, people were using a holy, sacred place for commerce, desecrating it for profit; in addition, the prices charged for the sacrificial animals and the exchange rate to purchase coins acceptable in the temple were excessive, and very burdensome for the poor. Which do you think angered Jesus more?
• It takes time to make a whip of cords. What does that say about Jesus’ reaction to the goings-on in the temple precincts?
• Are people measured by what angers them?
• What makes me angry? Was my anger appropriate? When does anger become sinful?
  What disgusts me? Can disgust be sinful?
• How often is my anger the result of someone violating my air space, my rights?
  How often is my anger the result of mistreatment of others, such as the poor or the homeless?
• What things anger me because I think they anger God?
  What things SHOULD anger me because I think they anger God?
  What things anger me that do not, upon reflection, necessarily anger God?
• What is righteous indignation?
  In what instances do I express righteous indignation?
  How do I do so?
  Are these instances personal affronts or insults to me and mine, or are they caused by persons or situations endemic to our culture?
• What is the connection between anger and violence?
  Am I bothered by Jesus’ violent reaction in the temple?
• How hard is it to deal with anger appropriately?
• Have we ever known of churches or other entities that made a profit on people’s piety?
  What about the commercial aspects of many of our sacraments and Catholic funerals?
• Should personal/corporate profit and religion mix?
• When I see people exploiting others, does it make me angry?
  Can I think of any men or women who called out religious or civil authorities for the ways in which they gouged the poor?
  What sort of price did they pay?
• What is a Temple of God?
  How was Jesus referring to himself when he spoke of the Temple of God?
• In what ways am I a Temple of God?
  What do I need to cleanse from the temple that is my body so that it can house God?
• What do I think was Jesus’ purpose in coming into the world?
  What is mine?
• What do I understand “zeal for the Lord’s house” to mean?
  What can I do to cultivate same?
  Does this “zeal” impel me to action?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

Adapted from a homily by Fr. William Bausch:

Time to turn the tables and set up new ones! Here are five suggestions:

1. Love only what is worth loving. What in my life is worth my love? What is not?
2. Put first things first. What in my life do I prioritize?
3. Cultivate spiritual insight. What are the ultimate spiritual truths for me? Be honest. (Write them down and look at them all week)
4. Strive for integrity of conscience. What compromises my integrity? What rationalizations and excuses do I feed myself?
5. Enlist in a cause that benefits the community or the world, not just my family and friends. Pick a cause (suggestions: CRS, Catholic Worker House, Redwood City, Bread for the World. Your local PTA, Meals on Wheels, to name a few) How wil I support that cause, starting NOW?

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

Read the following excerpts from Psalm 139, expressing that we are also a temple of God. Then write your own psalm, asking Jesus to tell you things about yourself that will help you grow in Him. Ask Him to still your mind and heart so that you can hear His words:

O Lord, you have searched me and known me!
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
You search out my path and my lying down
and are acquainted with all my ways.
Even before a word is on my tongue,
behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.
You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is high; I cannot attain it.
you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Search me, O God, and know my heart!
Try me and know my thoughts!
And see if there be any grievous way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting!

Poetic Reflection:

Often people use the story of Jesus’ cleansing the temple as an excuse for their intemperate responses to what others do. Mary, Queen of Scots, had a different prayer:

Keep us, O God, from all pettiness.
Let us be large in thought, in word, in deed.
Let us be done with fault-finding and leave off all self-seeking.
May we put away all pretense and meet each other face-to-face,
Without self pity and without prejudice.
May we never be hasty in judgment, always generous.
Let us take time for all things, and make us grow calm, serene, and gentle.
Teach us to put into action our better impulses, to be straight-forward and unafraid.
Grant that we may realize that it is the little things of life that create differences,
That in the big things of life we are one.
And, Lord, God, let us not forget to be Kind.

Where do I need to be patient with others who are ruining their lives or the lives of others?

Poetic Reflection:

This is a slightly different take on how Jesus feels about the behavior of humans:

Slowly, slowly
Comes Christ through the garden
Speaking to the sacred trees
Their branches bear his light
Without harm

Slowly, slowly
Comes Christ through the ruins
Seeking the lost disciple
A timid one
Too literate
To believe words
So he hides
Christ rises on the cornfields
It is only the harvest moon
The disciple
Turns over in his sleep
And murmurs:
“My regret!”

The disciple will awaken
When he knows history
But slowly, slowly
The Lord of History weeps into the fire

—Thomas Merton “Cables to the Ace” (stanza 80)

Closing Prayer

Keep me, above all things, from sin.
Stanch me in the rank wound of covetousness
And the hungers that exhaust my nature with their bleeding.
Stamp out the serpent envy that stings love with poison
And kills all joy.
Untie my hand and deliver my heart from sloth.

Set me free from the laziness that goes about disguised
as activity
when activity is not required of me,
and the cowardice that does what is not demanded,
in order to escape sacrifice.

And then to wait in peace and emptiness and oblivion
Of all things.

—Kyrie by Thomas Merton in Book of Hours

Second Sunday in Lent, February 28, 2021

Be still, and pay attention to the presence of God in your life

Mark 9:2–10

After six days Jesus took Peter, James and John with him and led them up a high mountain, where they were all alone. There he was transfigured before them. His clothes became dazzling white, whiter than anyone in the world could bleach them. And there appeared before them Elijah and Moses, who were talking with Jesus.

Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.” (He did not know what to say, they were so frightened.)

Then a cloud appeared and covered them, and a voice came from the cloud: “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!”

Suddenly, when they looked around, they no longer saw anyone with them except Jesus.

As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus gave them orders not to tell anyone what they had seen until the Son of Man had risen from the dead. They kept the matter to themselves, discussing what “rising from the dead” meant.

Music Meditations

• “The Ground” (“Pleni sunt caeli”) (composed by Ola Gjeilo) [YouTube]
• “Be Still and Know” (Steven Curtis Chapman) [YouTube]
• “Open My Eyes, Lord” (by Jesse Manibusan) [YouTube]
• “Christ in Me Arise” (composed by Trevor Thomson) [YouTube]

Opening Prayer

Not to the wise and powerful of this world, O God of all blessedness, but to those who were just like us
did you reveal in Jesus the promise of Your kingdom.
Gathered here, like the disciples on the mountain, we long to listen as You reveal Your promise in Jesus.
Grant us the ability to hear and follow Jesus, Your son.

Companions for the Journey

Adapted from “First Impresssions”, a service of the Southern Dominican Province:

Let’s work with the notion of “transfigured.” When is a person transfigured? When some quality comes to the surface; when hidden potential comes to light. The disciples are shown more than the surface of Jesus, more than the carpenter. Jesus’ real identity shines through and he invites us to do the same this Lent. We have been taught to cover up, adapt ourselves, our behaviors and expectations, to suit the thinking of our surrounding world. We fit in, stifle our true identity. What is beneath the surface? Do we really desire to be kind and accepting to others, generous and humorous, more our true selves? Divinity hides beneath the surface, we were baptized into union with Jesus and that has enabled us to perceive and act differently—if only we wouldn’t cover up that life within us. We don’t have to live our lives according to the expectations of others, we don’t have to submerge our true selves. This story is filled with light, except for the disciples who doze in shadows, who have missed the true presence of the One in their midst. The Gospel encourages us today, no matter what we have been told about ourselves, to see the spark of divinity in us, to imagine the possibilities, to open ourselves to others and the possibility of helping to create a better world. We also need a special way of seeing, a special light, to see beneath the surface of our daily lives. Is it possible that the holy resides beneath the routine and daily sameness? We don’t live with rarefied visions on mountains, we live on the flat surfaces, the grind of daily labors and struggles. Because of Jesus, we can see these plain events of daily life as suffused with the light of the Holy One. Resurrection has already begun and our lives are already transformed for those who look beneath the surface, for those who have heard this story of the Transfiguration and taken it to heart. Jesus was transfigured and that tells us that nothing about our lives is ever the same.

At a recent group sharing of this Gospel account, a woman participant tells her own transfiguration story. She was raised in a small town environment. There she knew all her neighbors and people were pretty much alike. She now works at a church with a youth program that does a summer outreach to a soup kitchen in inner city Philadelphia. Last summer she was asked to go as one of the adult leaders. She said that she had usually categorized people into two groups, weeds and wheat. The people she expected to meet at the soup kitchen would assuredly fall into the “weeds” category, she thought. But working in the soup kitchen and getting to know the people from the streets who came in for food and companionship changed her perspective. She says it was her “transfiguration event.” She got to know and like the regulars. She heard their stories and realized that the only thing separating her from their life was income. One man she met used to, “go to work in a three-piece suit.” “The people there were a family, caring for one another,” she says. She learned how they never wasted any food that was given them and would bring leftovers to friends on the streets. This summer she is volunteering to go back again. No one requires her to go, she says she wouldn’t miss it for the world. Now she sees people in a whole new light. That’s the power of a Transfiguration experience.

How will the transfiguration play itself out in Jesus’ life? He will not look different, nor will his clothes always be “dazzling white.” His transfiguration will continue to happen in his acts of ministry to them; people will be transfigured before him. Sinners will transfigure and turn back to God; the poor and outcast will transfigure into royal guests at Jesus’ table; the powerless will be transfigured by God’s power; women will be transfigured and counted as equals; those who sought riches and power at any price, will be transfigured into his detached and gentle followers; and the sick will become healthy; the mute eloquent in God’s praises and the blind will see Jesus resurrected and in a new light.

Will we disciples be transfigured today as well? Will our focus shift from notions of a cozy and removed religion to a more open and inclusive one? Will we see our church more like “tent dwellers” on a journey together, than edifice builders? Will we co-travelers remain flexible and adaptable to the needs we see around us and respond with Jesus’ self-sacrificing spirit? (“What would Jesus do?” Are teenagers still wearing those initialed wristbands, “WWJD?”) We pray that the Transfiguration would rub off on us. We want more of God’s presence to shine through us so that people will come to know God’s goodness and love for them through our daily service in Jesus’ name. We hope that through us, those who feel outside or alienated, will be transfigured also and come to know the God we have come to know through Jesus.

Now Jesus is resurrected and we have heard the full story. His transfiguration was no momentary flash-in-the-pan; no “fool’s gold.” His presence in our lives doesn’t always shine through nor is it obvious. But his life has taught us that if we look more closely we will see him in his many disguises, in the poor and those who are part of our daily lives. What a surprise! He is also present and transfigured before us as we hear his word; forgive and embrace one another in peace and then receive his sacramental presence in the Eucharist. Like the disciples, we have been led “apart” by ourselves with him whenever we participate in a liturgical celebration. Now we return to where we will also find him, in his clever disguises in our daily lives.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.

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 or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

• Do you think the Transfiguration impacted Jesus’ own understanding of his relationship to God or how he was to live his life?
• Do you think that Jesus had dramatic experiences of God on a regular basis throughout his life? Can we?
• How will this transfiguration play out in Jesus’ life? Will he look or act different after the transfiguration?
  Was, it instead, a transfiguration moment for the disciples, when they saw Jesus for who he actually was?
  How long did the peak experience stay with them?
  How long do our peak experiences, insights stay with us?
• Like the disciples, do we have to be startled, amazed or very frightened to realize the presence of God in our midst?
  What are some of the possible ways to be aware of God in all things?
• From Jude Siciliano, O.P.:
  Have you ever had an experience that changed your outlook on life for the good?
  Did you see God’s hand in that experience?
• When is a person transfigured? When the hidden potential of a person comes to light? Or when we are transfigured enough to see the hidden potential in another or in a given life situation?
• What is the role of prayer in making us aware of God’s presence in our lives?
  Which prayers work best for me?
  Which types of prayers get in the way?
• “Truly, Yahweh is in this place and I never knew it…This is nothing less than a house of God, a gate of heaven!” (Genesis 28:16–17) Jacob’s sentiments could be ours. What does it take to see the presence of God in our midst? What are the distractions that keep us from doing so?
• For the most part, the “real” Jesus stays hidden from us. Every once in a while his presence in our lives becomes visible. What are some of the disguises Jesus wears? (The poor, the immigrant, the addict, the filthy homeless person, my irritating sister-in-law?)
• I ever experienced events that impacted MY relationship with God? Was I always aware of the significance of these events at the time?
• What does the Transfiguration suggest to me about how God might be trying to be present to me? Am I ready for the change in my life that might result from such an experience?
• I look back on the last several days. Have I seen the spark of divinity in myself or in others? Did I notice it at the time, or only realize its import after the fact?
• Can I cultivate a special way of seeing, to go beneath the surface of my daily live and see the Holy that resides between the routine and the sameness?
  How much of my life is on autopilot?
  Is there so much noise and rush in my life that I have no time for prayer and reflection?
• Has there ever been a time when I experienced a personal transformation or transfiguration?
  Have I ever had a “mountain top” experience when I felt God was close and spoke a word to me?
  What effect did that experience have on my life?
• Like the disciples, do I sometimes wish to prolong some peak moments in order to avoid the real work of living my life?
  Which do I prefer: dramatic, transformational experiences, or the quiet daily living out of my relationship with God?
  What are the advantages and disadvantages of each?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style:

“We had the experience but missed the meaning. An approach to the meaning restores the experience in a different form.” (T.S. Eliot)

Finding God in all things is a big part of Ignatian spirituality. But finding God in the boring parts of life is easier said than done. Here are five ways (aside from the Examen) to find God in all things.

• Micro-Awareness—This is not just trying to be aware of the present moment, but rather letting each small action you take become your primary purpose in the moment. If you let something as simple as pushing the power button on your computer or walking up the stairs be done with intention and awareness (rather than letting routine get the best of you), you’ll find a new holiness in those mundane tasks.
• Journal—Writing down the experiences of your day as well as your thoughts and feelings is a kind of Examen, but oftentimes the act of writing uncovers unseen moments of God’s presence you initially missed.
• Do something the “old fashioned way”—Technology and fast expectations can often close the door on our awareness of God. For a change, walk to someone’s desk instead of calling, hand-write a letter instead of e-mailing, walk to the store instead of driving, or take the train instead of flying. The change of pace may give you a more meaningful interaction or experience. And slowing down lets you acknowledge God’s presence more easily.
• Listen—When was the last time you really listened to someone without trying to think of what to say next? You’ll be surprised what you hear if you actually listen—to a friend, to the natural sounds around you (try turning off the radio when you drive), or to your own conscience. God speaks when we pause long enough to listen.
• Say “God is here”—Practice saying “God is here” the next time you are irritated by someone, feel overwhelmed by obligations and tasks, feel bored and listless, feel ignored. In fact, make a point of saying “God is here” several times a day so that you get in the habit of simply noticing the presence of God in your life. Sometimes saying “God is here” is the best way to snap into an awareness that God dwells not just within you but alongside you in every moment, mundane or grand.

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style:

Father Garth Stanton wrote a reflection that invites us to see that we are truly God’s beloved:

Our brother once had a cloud overshadow him up on a mountain.
The message was simple—an affirmation that he was the beloved.
There is no “more”, there is no “less” in God. Can we not see that we are also the beloved?
Do not be frightened. Dare to be loved that much. Pour out your heart on a mountaintop.

As a response to this reflection, write your own letter to God, telling Him all that is in your heart.

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style:

“The Sacraments”

I once spoke to my friend, an old squirrel, about the Sacraments—
he got so excited

And ran into a hollow in his tree and came
back holding some acorns, an owl feather
and a ribbon he had found.

And I just smiled and said, “Yes, dear,
you understand

Everything imparts
His grace.”

—St. Francis of Assisi

What mediates and imparts a sense of God's presence in your life? Pray your gratitude and joy.

Poetic Reflection:

Thomas Merton was a mystic who spent much of his time in solitude in a small hut on the grounds of the Abbey of Gethsemani, in Kentucky. This poem by Thomas Merton, reflects on the blessings of silence and attentiveness, and the poem by Denise Levertov that follows it reflects on Merton's theme and the distractions we humans fall prey to.

Merton tells us that even the stones speak, that they know who we are, and that they can tell us our own True Name if we can be still enough to hear them. The only way you can Listen to the stones of the wall which try to peak your name is to let go of who you think you are (avoiding the superficial answers to that question as the poem poses) and fall into the stillness where all things are burning. For this is the fire that will set us free. In silence we learn to PAY ATTENTION. WOW! (Commentary adapted from R. Housden in Ten Poems to Set You Free).

”In Silence”

Be still
Listen to the stones of the wall.
Be silent, they try
To speak your

Name.
Listen
To the living walls.
Who are you?
Who Are you? Whose
Silence are you?

Who (be quiet)
Are you (as these stones
Are quiet). Do not
Think of what you are
Still less of
What you may one day be
Rather
Be what you are (but who?) be
The unthinkable one
You do not know.

O be still, while
you are still alive,
And all things live around you
Speaking (I do not hear)
To your own being,
Speaking by the Unknown
That is in you and in themselves.

“I will try, like them
To be my own silence:
And this is difficult. The whole
World is secretly on fire. The stones
Burn, even the stones
They burn me. How can a man be still or
Listen to all things burning? How can he dare
To sit with them when
All their silence
Is on fire?”

Poetic Reflection:

This poem, by Denise Levertov, a former Stanford professor, captures our all-too-frequent obliviousness to the presence of God Merton spoke of in the previous poem:

“On a Theme by Thomas Merton”

“Adam, where are you?”
God’s hands
palpate darkness, the void
that is Adam’s inattention,
his confused attention to everything,
impassioned by multiplicity, his despair.

Multiplicity, his despair;
God’s hands
enacting blindness. Like a child
at a barbaric fairgrounds—
noise, lights, the violent odors—
Adam fragments himself. The whirling rides!

Fragmented Adam stares.
God’s hands
unseen, the whirling rides
dazzle, the lights blind him. Fragmented,
he is not present to himself. God
suffers the void that is his absence.

Closing Prayer

We especially pray for all those in need of your guidance and your comfort at this time.
[Pause to recall the names of those you want to pray for.]
We pray for a world in need of your call to serve others and the natural world.
[Pause to recall the issues you want to pray about.]
Give us ears to hear and eyes to see.