Commentaries on the Passion Narrative in Luke’s Gospel

LIVING SPACE/SACRED SPACE PALM SUNDAY 2022

AFTER FIVE WEEKS of preparation we now enter the climax of the Lenten season and what we call Holy Week. In a way, the whole week from today until Easter Sunday should be seen as one unit – the presentation of what we call the Paschal Mystery. This Paschal Mystery includes the sufferings, death, resurrection, ascension of Jesus into glory and the sending of the Spirit on the disciples of Jesus to continue the work he began. Although it is, for liturgical and catechetical reasons, spread over a period of seven weeks, it should also be seen as an indivisible single experience.

This week sees the climax of the mission of Jesus Christ in which the deepest meaning of his life is unfolded and in which his teaching becomes incarnated in his own words and actions.

Today’s celebration (for, strange to say, the terrible happenings we are about to listen to are truly a cause for celebration on our part) is divided into two distinct parts: the procession with palms and the Mass proper. (The particular Mass you attend may not include both parts as many parishes will only do the first part at one of the day’s Masses.)

Joy and triumph

In the first part the prevailing atmosphere is one of joy and the vestments in today’s liturgy are a triumphant red and not the violet which has prevailed during the other days of Lent. For the reading from the Gospel in this first part recalls the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem as King. He gets a rapturous reception from the crowd who acclaim him with words we still use in the “Holy, holy, holy…” of the preface to the Eucharistic Prayer. This scene is important for, in a few days’ time, the same triumphant Jesus will be reduced to a battered wreck of humanity, calling forth the words of Pilate: “Look, it is a human being!” (Ecce homo!)

As we process through our church, with our palms (or their equivalent) in our hands, we too sing with enthusiasm: “Christ conquers, Christ is king, Christ is our ruler” (Christus vincit, Christus regnat, Christus imperat). There is a difference in our case for we know the end of the story and what is to come. Because of that, we sing with even greater conviction about the greatness of Jesus and a realization of just why he is our King.

But even here there is shadow. For not all are spreading their clothes on the ground for Jesus to walk over or waving their branches. His enemies are watching and what they see only gives greater urgency to their desire to see the end of Jesus. In one way, they will succeed with a frightening ruthlessness to destroy Jesus but, of course, they will also fail utterly. Our presence here today is proof enough of that.

The mind of Christ

In a way the real key to Holy Week is given in today’s Second Reading, which seems to be a hymn, incorporated by Paul in his letter to the Christians at Philippi, in northern Greece. It expresses the “mind,” the thinking of Jesus, a “mind” which Paul urges us to have also if we want to identify fully with Jesus as disciples. “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.” The key word in the passage is “emptied.” This kenosis, or emptying, is at the heart of Jesus’ experience during his Passion.

In spite of Jesus’ identity with the nature of God, he did not insist on his status. He first of all took on himself in the fullest sense our human nature – “like us in all things, but sin”. But, even more, he reached down to the lowest level, the lowest class of human beings – the servant, the slave. That was still not the end. He let go of all human dignity, all human rights, let go of life itself to die, not any “respectable” form of death, but the death of a convicted criminal in shame and nakedness and total abandonment.

To understand the sufferings, death and resurrection of Jesus one must fully grasp what Paul is saying here and, not only grasp it, but totally appropriate it into one’s own thinking so that one would be prepared, with God’s help, to go exactly the same way. Our normal sensitivities even over trifling hurts just show us how far we have to go to have the “mind of Jesus.”

We are now – hopefully – prepared for listening to Luke’s version of the Passion of Jesus, up to but excluding the climax of resurrection.

So much to reflect on

Although efforts are now made to make the listening of the Passion less of an endurance test, there really is too much to be fully digested as we stand listening to one or three readers. Perhaps we should set aside a short period later in the day to go through the dramatic telling more at our leisure. Or perhaps we could focus on a particular passage which speaks to us more at this time.

There is:

--the last meal of Jesus with his disciples, a bitter-sweet experience for all

--Jesus’ struggle with fear (even terror) and loneliness in the garden, ending in a sense of peace and acceptance

– Peter’s denial of ever having known Jesus, the same Jesus with whom he had just eaten and who had invited him into the garden

– the kiss of Judas, another disciple, sealing the fate of Jesus, and leading to bitter remorse and suicide

– the rigged trial before the religious leaders and again before the contemptuous, cynical Pilate, the brief appearance before the superstitious and fearful Herod

– the torture, humiliation and degradation of Jesus

– the way of Calvary – the weeping women, the reluctant Simon of Cyrene

– the crowds, so supportive on Sunday, who now laugh and mock

– the murderous gangster promised eternal happiness that very day

– the last words of forgiveness and total surrender (emptying) to the Father.

The drama is truly overpowering and needs really to be absorbed one incident at a time. It would be worth reflecting in which of these scenes I can see myself, with which characters I can identify as reacting in the way I probably would.

 Jesus – the focal point

Through it all there is Jesus. His enemies humiliate him, strike him, scourge him. Soldiers make a crown with thorns, a crown for the “King of the Jews” (an element of contemptuous racism here?), Herod mocks him. Pilate, Roman-trained, makes a half-hearted attempt at justice but fear for his career prevails.

Jesus, for his part, does not strike back, he does not scold, he does not accuse or blame. He begs his Father to forgive those who “do not know what they are doing.” Jesus seems to be the victim but all through he is, in fact, the master. He is master of the situation because he is master of himself.

So, as we go through this day and this week, let us look very carefully at Jesus our Saviour. We watch, not just to admire, but also to learn, to penetrate the mind, the thinking, the attitudes and the values of Jesus so that we, in the very different circumstances of our own lives, may walk in his footsteps.

If we are to be his disciples, he invites us to walk his way, to share his sufferings, to imitate his attitudes, to “empty” ourselves, to live in service of others – in short, to love others as he loves us. This is not at all a call to a life of pain and misery. Quite the contrary, it is an invitation to a life of deep freedom, peace and happiness. If it were anything else, it would not be worth considering.

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COMMENTARY ON PALM SUNDAY FROM WORKING PREACHER

The Gospels’ passion narratives press us to consider multiple realities regarding Jesus’ prosecution and death

• We see the politics of human society. On one level, it’s an all-too-familiar story. Powerful and privileged people conspire with Roman officials to engineer the destruction of someone whose message and popularity pose a serious threat to the business-as-usual abuses perpetuated by religious and imperial systems.

• We see God behind the scenes. On another level, it’s a story of cosmic significance. Having relinquished himself to his Father’s will (Luke 22:42), Jesus embraces a fate that mysteriously aligns–somehow–with a divine design (Luke 22:37; 24:25-27; Acts 4:24-28). Luke’s Gospel declares that Satan also plays a role (Luke: 22:3, 53).

• We see reflections on human responsibility. There are marked differences across the accounts of Jesus’ trial that we find in the four Gospels. These differences draw attention to the questions of “how?” and “why?” that the post-Easter church asked. Anonymous Jewish “crowds” and “people” play roles in Jesus’ rejection. In this way, the evangelists attribute theological significance by assigning blame more widely (see Acts 2:22-23; 13:27-28). At the same time, historical analyses of these scenes convincingly conclude that Jesus’ movement from Gethsemane to Golgotha would have involved a speedy, clandestine process carried out at the highest levels of Judean sociopolitical power. Common folk probably had very limited involvement, if any.

These three currents flow as a single stream. The Gospels and Acts show no interest in trying to parse the relationship between divine will and human activity, at least not with the precision that would satisfy our philosophical questions. The mixture of realities proclaims that Jesus’ execution was the result of willful opposition and tragic ignorance, and yet this ugly death was somehow totally understandable and even purposeful.

(This seems as good a place as any to mention that I’ve just published a book–titled The Trial Narratives: Conflict, Power, and Identity in the New Testament–which explores Jesus’ trial in the Gospels and the trials of Peter, Paul, and others in Acts. What I have to say here about Luke’s passion narrative is developed in greater detail in chapter 5 of the book.)

The Passion in Luke: A Contest of Wills

Luke’s passion narrative frustrates many interpreters. The crucifixion lacks the raw agony of Mark’s and Matthew’s versions, and there isn’t the clearly scripted theological emphasis like John’s. Elements of the Lukan trial scenes are bewildering, for it isn’t clear what motivates Pilate, Herod Antipas, and “the people” (whom Pilate summons for the first time in 23:13) to act as they do.

In many ways, it’s a story about whose “will” or intentions will hold sway, and how.

It’s a story that insists that, at the end, God’s will is accomplished. Moreover, this will is accomplished by manipulating other powers and the structures of human society. No matter how corrupt or bent on self-preservation those forces are, God’s will nevertheless perseveres.

• Luke 22:14-46. Jesus prepares his followers and Luke’s readers by speaking knowingly and confidently of what is to befall him. Submission, warning, and reassurance are dominant themes.

• Luke 22:47-71. The priestly aristocracy of Jerusalem finally have their “hour” (see 22:52-53), and Peter is overcome. The temple-based authorities railroad Jesus toward execution. His words to them indicate that dialogue or persuasion is pointless in the face of their calculated intentions.

• Luke 23:1-12. Roman authorities refuse to allow the Jerusalem aristocracy to presume upon Roman muscle to secure their desired outcome. Pilate and Herod mock Jesus, the notion of Jewish kingship, and the priestly prosecutors who breathlessly pursue their case. Roman power plays a game to discredit and humiliate the whole lot of them.

• Luke 23:13-25. In a shocking scene, Pilate overplays his hand. He assembles residents of Jerusalem along with the aristocracy, presumably to embarrass the latter in the eyes of the former. But as soon as he broaches the idea of releasing Jesus, “the people” resist. They restart the trial by clamoring for Barabbas, a man with perhaps a more impressive track record of pursuing social change. Suddenly the emperor’s representative can no longer control the scene. Luke depicts a showdown between what Pilate wants (see thelō in 23:20) and the will of the temple authorities and people (see thelēma in 23:25). In the background, readers remember Jesus’ prayer about his Father’s will being accomplished (see thelēma in 22:42).

• Luke 23:26-56. As soon as the crucifixion begins, Luke begins to mitigate the role of “the people” by distinguishing them from their priestly leaders. Many of “the people” lament in 23:27. “The people” watch Jesus die while “the leaders” scoff (23:35; compare 23:48). Later, in 24:20, Jesus’ followers blame only their “chief priests and leaders.” As for Jesus, he continues to do what he came to do: accomplish salvation. Witness the criminal who turns to him in their final hours.

Luke offers a political drama in which truth and justice are overwhelmed by the will of those who reject Jesus and by the will of a governor bent on exploiting Jesus for political gain.

But Pilate cannot fully control the venue that he is supposedly empowered to control. When the story is done, neither the imperial machinery nor the temple establishment are the agents who ultimately manage (or thwart) justice, at least not in Jesus’ case. Nor, really, are the strangely fickle “people.”

And so, Luke also offers a theological drama in which God’s will accomplishes itself through the course of human misperception and political maneuvering. In the strange coexistence of these two dramas, Luke declares that God’s salvation actualizes itself even within the apparatuses of opposition.

The Passion Narrative, God’s Will, and Preaching

Although it is the heart of the Christian story, the passion narrative is not the totality of that story. Luke’s account of Jesus’ demise compels preachers to consider the passion in light of God’s wide-ranging design for the world’s salvation.

For Luke, the passion is the pinnacle of the inevitable rejection of God’s specially anointed prophet. It is also the route that this Messiah must take toward his eventual glorification.

Jesus’ rejection is messy. The participants exhibit behavior that is both familiar and improbable, highlighting the misperception and fear behind it.

By asserting that God accomplished God’s design through Jesus’ passion, even through the messy power struggles waged among those human beings who brought about Jesus’ death, Luke hardly fixes everything or makes the passion palatable.

• These assertions raise difficult questions about God and God’s ways–questions that must drive us, with preachers’ help, to accept mystery. Then we can render praise in response to the clearer statement that God’s saving will is done.

• These assertions characterize the world as resistant to God and God’s ways. This leads to calls for repentance (see Acts 2:36-39; 3:17-19).

• They rightly give comfort to people who are beaten down by such power struggles on a regular basis, promising them that Jesus’ death and resurrection will one day mean the end to such oppression.

• They warn people who presume that they can find security from God in their institutions and in the trappings of power. They likewise warn those who think that they can create their own social and institutional systems that will align with God’s purposes.

God cares too much about the work of saving the world to leave it in our hands. Salvation required God’s incursion into all aspects of our existence. It still does.

By Matt Skinner

Fifth Sunday in Lent, April 3, 2022

Justice and Mercy; Do not judge others; God will always welcome us back

John 8:1–11

Jesus went to the Mount of Olives.

At dawn he appeared again in the temple courts, where all the people gathered around him, and he sat down to teach them.

The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group and said to Jesus,

“Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?”

They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.

Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger.

But when they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.”

Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground.

At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there.

Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

“No one, sir,” she said.

“Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.”

Music Meditations

• Come Back to me—John Michael Talbot
• I Have Loved You With an Everlasting Love—Chris Brunelle
• Turn to Me—Chris Brunelle
• It Is Well—Audrey Assad
• Pie Jesu—Sarah Brightman

Opening Prayer

Jesus, your words: “I do not condemn you” are meant for me as well. So often I have gone over and over mistakes I have made, wrongs I have committed, reflecting on those I have hurt or failed in some way. So often I have found myself wanting. So often I have been accusatory of those around me because they failed to meet my standards, which I assume are everybody’s standards. Help me to believe your words of compassion and help me to extend those very same words of compassion, whether spoken or unspoken to those who have made mistakes, even horrible ones. Open the eyes of my heart and allow me to feel your forgiveness for me, and allow me the grace to forgive those in my life against whom I hold grudges. Help me not to judge myself or others.

Companions for the Journey

This is a short writing from one of the Christian or non-Christian witnesses of our tradition—a person who embodies the theme of the gospel we are studying today.

The following is from John Harrington, S.J., in a back issue of America magazine, the national Jesuit publication:

The Sunday Gospel readings for this Lent have given particular attention to Jesus’ efforts to balance the justice and the mercy of God, the two great divine attributes in the biblical tradition. The narrative preserved in most manuscripts in John 8 (though it sounds like Luke) is set in the area of the Jerusalem temple where Jesus had been teaching. His opponents bring forward a woman caught in adultery. The penalty for such an offense was death by stoning. The opponents want to use the occasion to embarrass Jesus, since he had the reputation of proclaiming God’s mercy toward sinners. If he takes the side of the adulterous woman, he is open to the charge of ignoring God’s law and God’s justice. If he insists on following the Law exactly, his reputation as a prophet of God’s mercy will be open to question. This is the dilemma that the opponents construct for Jesus.

In John 8, Jesus most obviously manifests the mercy of God. Here is a lone woman caught in a serious sin punishable by death. Against her are male accusers with reputations for great learning and piety. And yet Jesus, the wise and merciful teacher, devises a way to get her out of the situation, to save her life and to let her begin over again. Thus he champions the mercy of God.

In manifesting the mercy of God, Jesus also upholds the justice of God. He does not reject the biblical commandment against adultery. Instead he stalls for time by doodling on the ground. Then he delivers a penetrating challenge, “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” His challenge has the effect of turning the accusers’ attention back on themselves and making them realize that they too are sinners. It reduces them to silence and causes them to slink away in shame. By appealing to the justice of God and the injustice of humans, Jesus upholds God’s mercy.

In his parting words to the woman Jesus again manifests both mercy and justice. He first says to her, “Neither do I condemn you,” upholding the mercy of God. Then he adds, “From now on do not sin any more.” Jesus knows what sin is. He does not shrink from calling certain actions “sins.” He recognizes that some actions are inappropriate and offensive to the justice of God. He forgives the sinner but does not excuse or explain away the sin. Thus Jesus upholds the justice of God.

At this point in the Lenten season we may need to recognize and experience both God’s justice and God’s mercy. By confessing our sinfulness and determining to avoid sin, we bear witness to the justice of God. By accepting the forgiveness of our sins and by determining to forgive those who have offended us, we bear witness to God’s mercy.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

Neither do I condemn you. Go, and from now on, do not sin any more.

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

• The woman has no name, and has only been identified throughout history by her sin. Have I ever depersonalized another or a group, thinking of them only as bad, immoral, wrongheaded, users, bullies scofflaws, etc., and dismissed them as human beings?
• The scribes and pharisees asked Jesus a question, expecting a certain answer. Can I listen to the voice of God even when it is something I did not expect or want to hear?
• Have I, like the scribes and pharisees, been made aware of a personal fault or failing that makes me no better than those I am judging?
• Has your heart and head ever been in conflict on an issue?
• Have I ever expected censure, blame and/or punishment for something I did wrong or a mistake I made, and received only graciousness and understanding instead?
  How did it feel?
• We don’t know if the woman left and turned her life around. But what about us?
  Shall we accept the forgiveness that Lent has made us aware that we need?
  Shall we also accept the help God offers us so we can make the changes we know we need to make in our life patterns?
• Have you ever been challenged for doing something wrong or gauche and exposed in front of others?
  How did it make you feel?
  Was the person who accused you a loved one or someone who was hostile to you?
  Would that make a difference in your reaction?
• Does the memory of being caught in an embarrassing situation (or worse) make you angry with your tormentors or more compassionate toward those who have been in similar situations?
• Can you remember a time when a big mistake was not held against you?
• Can you remember a time when you stood up for someone when everyone else was against him or her?
• Do we remember something someone said to us that deeply affected us and made a change in our lives?
• From “First Impressions”, a service of the Southern Dominican Province:
  Is there a word we need to speak to someone that will set them free?
• Do I think that showing mercy is an excuse for ignoring a wrong that has been done?
  How would I describe God’s mercy to me?
• This is an example of radical forgiveness—that is, Jesus freely offered forgiveness without the woman having to ask for it.
  Have you ever extended forgiveness to someone who did not acknowledge that they did anything wrong or apologize?
  Is it better to extend forgiveness privately in our hearts, or face to face with “the offender”?
• Why is it that when we think of sin, the first thing that comes to mind is sexual sin?
  Why did the people of Jesus time, and why does our own church treat sexual sin as somehow worse that many other kinds of sin?
• Often religions have emphasized sexual sins over other sins. This lets a lot of us ignore the biggest sin of all—putting ourselves at the center of the universe.
  Have I ever demanded more than my share of the world’s or my family’s/friends’ attention?
• Considering that the accusers, the scribes and pharisees, were all men, what does it say to us about the misogyny inherent in our history?
  And considering that the man caught in adultery is nowhere to be found, nor even sought, what does reviling and punishing only the woman say about the even-handedness of “justice”?
• Have I ever set myself up as a judge of another?
  There are two behaviors most of us indulge in more often than any other behaviors: Judging others, and rationalizing our own behavior to ourselves and maybe to others. Of the two, which do I indulge in most often?
• How do I keep from judging others?
• From Catholic Bible Study on the Gospel of John by Gaetano Piccolo, S.J.:
  What are the mirrors that I see myself reflected in?
  What role to I play in my life’s drama: victim or prosecutor?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

I place myself in the events of that long-ago day, imagining the scene at the temple area of Jerusalem where people have gathered to hear Jesus preach. I picture the bright early morning, and I hear the sounds of all the people in that crowded area; I see the packed dirt on which Jesus is standing. Then I notice the little commotion as the scribes and Pharisees—the upright ones—drag in a woman who has broken the law of adultery. Is she someone’s wife? How was she discovered? Where is her partner in crime? As the scene plays out before my mind’s eye, I put myself in her place, imagining how I would feel if my worst sin were displayed for all to see. Then I notice Jesus writing something on the ground. What is it? Why do the accusers gradually fade away? Why does Jesus help me? When he says: “Tell me, has no one condemned you?” I answer “No one, Sir”. Jesus replies: “And neither do I. Go now and sin no more”. How does that make me feel?

From “Sacred Space” 2022:

Where do I stand in this scene: like the woman standing before her accusers? Like a silent sympathizer hoping that something will happen to save her? Like the skulking male adulterer who got her into trouble? Like the bystanders already collecting the best stones with a view to killing? Like the one of the elders who slinks away, unable to cast the first stone? What goes through my head as Jesus is doodling in the sand?

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

This parable is one we can all relate to if we look beyond the story itself to the human behavior it reveals.

First, other people constantly show us a reflection of ourselves and reveal parts of ourselves that we are unconscious of or deliberately ignore. When this happens we are annoyed, embarrassed or we refuse their assessment. Has this ever happened to me? What about myself do I wish to hide from others, what about myself puts me on the defensive?

Second, what do I think Jesus wrote on the ground? We often project onto others those faults about which we are most ashamed. In what way is this woman a projection of all the men who surround her? In what way am I most annoyed by fault or behaviors in others which are may faults and behaviors as well?

Third, if we define adulterers as people who are unfaithful, can we exempt ourselves? In what everyday ways do we betray our relationships, our physical world, our vocations, life itself? What (money, power, fame) seduces us away from what we know to be the right way to be and live? What would Jesus write in the sand about me?

The scribes and pharisees wanted to make Jesus act as their judge and executioner. Unfortunately, that is sometimes how we view God. Our actions and relationship are often based in appeasement and fear. Instead, this gospel shows us a different understanding of God. Jesus invites us to be free to forgive ourselves because God does, not because we deserve it. Jesus invites us to be free of fear, guilt and open to the mercy and compassion of God. What fears and guilts do I need to be freed from?

Finally, I rest in the wonder of the mercy and love of God, resolving to offer to others the same understanding and forgiveness I have been given.

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

By Father Paul O’Reilly, S.J. in “First Impressions” 2007:

I am going to ask you to think for a moment of the worst thing you have ever done, or failed to do. We all have at least one; most of us will have a few to choose from.
Something that I once did, that really hurt another human being;
…some kindness I could have done, but failed to do.
…the thing in my life that I am least proud of.
…the greatest failure.
…the greatest regret.
…the greatest lack of love.
…the one action or word I wish—I really wish—I could take back.
It may be in how I treated my parents,
…or how I treated my family or my wife or husband.
It may be in how I lied
…or cheated
…or stole
…or how I betrayed a friend or a loved one.
I’d like to ask you to pick the very worst…
Let us all, just for one moment, think of that.

And then, I want you to imagine seeing that thing on the front page of every newspaper in the country
…perhaps with a photograph of you looking at your worst;
…the first item on every news bulletin on television or radio.
Imagine being the only subject of every conversation in every pub and bingo hall in the country.
When you walk down the street, people look at you and whisper; children point at you and laugh. And out of all that is said to you, there is nothing you can say in reply. Because every word of it is true.
That is what it is in our day to be a public Sinner. Not much has really changed since Jesus’ time.

But imagine, if you will, that there is someone to whom you go who knows you and who loves you;
…who knows what you have done and what you have failed to do,
…and who doesn’t say it’s OK, because it isn’t,
…but who understands that you are not the only one
…who understands that all have sinned and fallen short of the Kingdom of God
…and who can you give you back your self-respect.

That is what we call the sacrament of reconciliation.
That is the sacrament that Jesus gave to the woman caught in adultery.
If you haven’t been recently, I would like to recommend it to you.

Literary Reflection:

Consider the following poem by Rev. Ed. Ingebretzen (from To Keep From Singing). How does Jesus’ response to sin differ from the response of “the righteous”? Into which camp do I often fall?

“In the Center of Right”

The woman taken in adultery
faces the glee of the takers—
they leap upon her
like shoppers upon the prize.

She wears her fright
like the face on Veronica’s veil
as they toss their cage
of rectitude and certainty,

having caught at last
the lioness smelling of blood
trapped in the heat of love.

We are never safe, she and I—
unfaithful as cats in heat
in neighborhoods where dogs strain
with white, law-edged teeth.

From behind her eyes, encircled,
I catch a bit of her fear;
I feel in my bones the violence
come of being wrong, cornered
in the center of right.

Closing Prayer

From Lenten Longings: Seeing With God’s Eyes:

L: Our past hurts we bring to you, Lord.
A: Please heal them

L: Our past sins, we bring to you, Lord.
A: Please forgive them

L: Our prejudices we bring to you, Lord.
A: Please help us overcome them.

L: Our burdens we bring to you, Lord.
A: Please lift them

L: Seeds of our healing, we bring to you, Lord.
A: Please plant them.

L: Our efforts for justice and our desire to forgive we bring to you, Lord.
A: Please direct them.

L: Our small faith community we bring to you, Lord.
A: Please be our companion

L: Our time together we bring to you, Lord.
A: Please bless and transform it. Amen.

Lent and Social Justice

We focus earnestly during Lent on becoming “new creations”. The Crucifix is prominently displayed and Stations of the Cross are offered regularly. For most of us, our daily lives proceed with perhaps a few extra minutes of quiet prayer at home or at church. We offer the words of the following prayer, “Apology” for all the times we have not been part of God’s wish to create a just and compassionate world. These words are not intended to create guilt, but rather to open our eyes so that we may be more open to serve our needy brothers and sisters in new and unexpected ways. It is we, ourselves, who must become “something new”.

“To my brothers and sisters…

While I was deciding which oat bran cereal to eat this morning, you were searching the ground for leftover grains from the passing wheat truck.

While I was jogging at the health center, you were working in the wealthy landowner’s field under a scorching sun.

While I was choosing between diet and regular soda, your parched lips were yearning for a sip of clean water.

While I complained about the poor service in the gourmet restaurant, you were gratefully eating a bowl of rice.

While I poured my “fresh and better” detergent into the washing machine, you stood in the river with your bundle of clothes.

While I read the newspaper and drank my cup of steaming coffee, you walked the long, dusty miles to a crowded schoolroom to learn how to read.

While I scanned the ads for a bargain on an extra piece of clothing, you woke up and put on the same shirt and pants that you have worn for many months.

While I built a fourteen-room house for the three of us, your family of ten found shelter in a one-room hut.

My brothers and sisters, forgive me for my arrogance and my indifference. Forgive me for not doing my part to change the unjust systems that keep you suffering and impoverished. I offer you my promise to become more aware of your situation and to change my lifestyle as I work for the transformation of our world.”

(Taken from Out of the Ordinary 2000 by Joyce Rupp. Used by permission of Ave Maria Press. All rights reserved)

Fourth Sunday in Lent, March 27, 2022

Luke 15:1–3, 11–32

The tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to listen to him, but the Pharisees and scribes began to complain, saying, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” So to them he addressed this parable:

The Parable of the Lost Son

Then he said, “A man had two sons, and the younger son said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of your estate that should come to me.’ So the father divided the property between them. After a few days, the younger son collected all his belongings and set off to a distant country where he squandered his inheritance on a life of dissipation. When he had freely spent everything, a severe famine struck that country, and he found himself in dire need. So he hired himself out to one of the local citizens who sent him to his farm to tend the swine. And he longed to eat his fill of the pods on which the swine fed, but nobody gave him any. Coming to his senses he thought, ‘How many of my father’s hired workers have more than enough food to eat, but here am I, dying from hunger. I shall get up and go to my father and I shall say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as you would treat one of your hired workers.”’ So he got up and went back to his father. While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him, and was filled with compassion. He ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him. His son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son.’ But his father ordered his servants, ‘Quickly bring the finest robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Take the fattened calf and slaughter it. Then let us celebrate with a feast, because this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost, and has been found.’ Then the celebration began. Now the older son had been out in the field and, on his way back, as he neared the house, he heard the sound of music and dancing. He called one of the servants and asked what this might mean. The servant said to him, ‘Your brother has returned and your father has slaughtered the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’ He became angry, and when he refused to enter the house, his father came out and pleaded with him. He said to his father in reply, ‘Look, all these years I served you and not once did I disobey your orders; yet you never gave me even a young goat to feast on with my friends. But when your son returns who swallowed up your property with prostitutes, for him you slaughter the fattened calf.’ He said to him, ‘My son, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours. But now we must celebrate and rejoice, because your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.’”

Music Meditations

• Going Home—Bryn Terfel (see music meditation below)
• Great Is Thy Faithfulness—Selah
• In the Hollow of Thy Hand—Janice Kapp Perry
• Turn to Me—John Foley
• Gracious God—Jesse Manibusan
• I Heard the Voice of Jesus Say—sung by Choir of Manchester Cathedral

Opening Prayer

Lord, you have no favorites. You understand that some people need more patience and understanding than others. You understand that sometimes we are especially needy and selfish in what we desire from you or those in our life. You understand that we are, most of the time, simply doing the best we can. Help us extend that understanding to those we live with, work with, sometimes tangle with. Help us extend that understanding to ourselves so that we can bask in the joy that is your steadfast caring, forgiveness, and love.

Companions for the Journey

This is a short writing from one of the Christian or non-Christian witnesses of our tradition—a person who embodies the theme of the gospel we are studying today.

This is taken from “Living Space” 2022, a service of the Irish Jesuits:

The prodigal father

The most striking story in chapter 15 of Luke is the third parable. We normally call it the “Prodigal Son” but, in fact, the emphasis is less on the son than on the father, who clearly represents God and Jesus. No one can deny the appalling behavior of the younger son. He took all that his father generously gave to him as his inheritance and used it in leading a life of total debauchery and self-centered indulgence. Eventually, he had nothing and was reduced to living with pigs, something utterly abhorrent to the Jewish mind, and even sharing their slops, something even we would find appalling. “Served him right,” might be the reaction of many, especially the good and morally respectable. This, however, is not the reaction of the father, who has only one thought in his mind – how to get his son to come back to where he belongs. The father does not say: “This son has seriously offended me and brought disgrace on our family. May he rot in hell.” Instead, he says: “My son went away, is lost and I want so much to have him back.” And he stands at the door of his house watching and waiting… His love for his wayward son has not changed one iota.

No force

There is no force involved. The police are not sent out. Servants are not instructed to haul him back. No, the father waits. It is up to the son himself to make the crucial decision: does he want to be with his father or not? Eventually he “came to his senses”, that is, he realized the wrongness of what he had done. He became aware of just how good his father had been. The process of repentance had begun. He felt deeply ashamed of his behavior and then, most significantly of all, he turned round to make his way back to his father.

The father, for his part, filled with compassion for his son’s experiences, runs out to meet him, embraces him and brushes aside the carefully prepared speech the son had got ready. If the son had known his father better, he would have realized that such a speech was unnecessary. Immediately, orders are given to bring the very best things in the house and a banquet is laid on.

This is forgiveness, this is reconciliation and, on the part of the son, this is conversion, a real turning around of his life and a return to where he ought to be. All this, it is important to remember, is in response to the comments of the Pharisees and Scribes about Jesus mixing with sinners. This story reveals a picture of God which, on the one hand, many of us have not yet fully accepted and, on the other, a way of behavior that does not come easily to us in our own relationships with others.

No understanding

That is where the elder son comes in. He simply cannot understand what is happening. He was never treated like this and had always been a “good” boy. What kind of justice is this? One brother stays at home keeping all the rules [Commandments] and seems to get nothing. His brother lives riotously with prostitutes in a pagan land and when he comes back he is treated like royalty. He could not understand the mind of his father and some of us may have difficulties too. In some ways God is very unjust – at least by our standards. He is corrupted by love! But fortunately for us, he is like that. Supposing we went to confession one day and the priest said, “Sorry, that’s it. There can be no more forgiveness, no more reconciliations. You’ve used up your quota. Too bad.”

Of course, it is not like that. There is no limit to God’s forgiveness. As was said earlier, God is not interested in the past but only in the present. I am judged not by what I have done or not done earlier. Nor need I be anxious how I will behave in the future. I am judged by my relationship with God here and now. It was on that basis that the murderous gangster crucified with Jesus was told, “This day you will be with me in Paradise.” He is promised eternal life “this very day”. It was on the same basis that the “sinful woman”, presumably a prostitute, becomes totally reconciled with Jesus there and then and all her past behavior forgotten. “She has no sin [now] because she loves so much [now].”

All I have to worry about is whether right now I have a loving relationship with God and with all those around me through whom I come in contact with him.

What limits do we set?

There is clearly much for reflection, too, in today’s readings on how we deal with those we feel have “offended” us. In wanting to experience God’s forgiveness, we also need to learn how to be forgiving to others. Do we set limits to our forgiveness? To be reconciled with God we need to learn how to be reconciled with all those who are sources of conflict or pain in our lives.

We thank God that we have a Lord who is so ready to forgive and welcome us back again and again. But we cannot stop there. We have to learn to act towards others in the same way. “Forgive us our sins AS we forgive those who sin against us.” We, too, need to see the person in the here and now and not continue to dredge up past hurts and resentments, anger and hatred.

By imitating Jesus more, we find that our relationships improve. In so doing we are coming closer to having the mind of Jesus but we are doing something else as well. We will find that life will become a far more peace-filled and harmonious experience. It is a perfect win-win situation.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

My son, you are with me always; everything I have is yours

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 does the word “prodigal” mean to you?
• Do you identify more with the younger brother, the older brother or the father in the parable?
  How do you feel about the others?
  Do you think the younger brother is sincere?
  What do you make of the older brother’s reaction?
  What about the father’s response to each of his sons?
  What do your feelings about each tell you about yourself and your relationships, your moral code? Your compassion?
• How would you have handled this story if it were your parable to write?
• Have I ever, like each son at one time or another, felt “trapped” by a situation I was in and longed to break free?
  Did I stay “home”, but resentful, or did I extricate myself, sometimes disappointing another?
  Did I ever “leave home” without actually going anywhere?
  Did I withdraw emotionally from those around me?
  Was resentment ever a part of my emotional arsenal?
• Did I “return”, and what was my reception?
• Is it difficult for us sometimes to see that good things happen to people who don’t deserve them?
  Have I ever uttered “Life is unfair”?
  Have I ever felt I had to be rich or beautiful or accomplished in order to be recognized or loved?
• What does it mean to me to realize that forgiveness is a gift?
  How graciously have I ever accepted forgiveness?
  Why is it so difficult to forgive without condition?
  Is there someone in your life who needs your forgiveness?
  Do I hold grudges?
• Are there some unhealthy family patterns that I need to work to change?
• Do you need forgiveness?
  Why is it sometimes hard to say “I’m sorry,” or “I was wrong”?
• What experiences of reconciliation have inspired you in your life?
• Tim Keller (in The Prodigal God) says that the elder son’s pride in his moral record, his sense of righteousness keeps him from entering his father’s feast. Have I ever felt outraged that my steadfastness, adherence to the rules, and hard work were not sufficiently recognized or rewarded?
  How did I react?
• Was there ever a time that you were away from God your father?
  How did you get back?
• Do I understand that God’s hand is ever stretched toward me, even when I sin?
  Do I believe God always wishes me well?
  In what ways have I tried to use my “goodness” to get something I wanted from God or someone else?
• From Sacred Space: A service of the Irish Jesuits:
  Can I let God say to me: “You are always with me, and all that I have is yours”?
• How might the parable of the prodigal son help you to participate in the sacrament of reconciliation this Lent?

Meditations

Music Meditation:

Listen to “Homeward Bound” written by Marta Keen and sung by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. How do the words of this song capture the restlessness of the son as he left home to find adventure and his fortune, to find his calling? In your life, have you ever experienced a need to go beyond the experiences of your childhood and have new adventures, new challenges?

Then listen to “Going Home”, the largo from by Antonin Dvorak’s 9th symphony, with lyrics by William Arms Fisher. A beautiful version is sung by Bryn Terfel, the legendary Welsh bass-baritone. Imagine that you are the younger son heading back to the father. Do you think he felt as sure of his welcome as the lyrics of this song suggest? What is it about home that evokes such emotion in us? Now play the song again, this time thinking of Jesus as he heads for Jerusalem and the finale of his journey abroad from his father. Where are you in your life’s journey?

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

Reflect on the part of the parable where the son realizes what a mistake he made in seeking happiness in the wrong things, and realizes also that his very life depends on returning home and to his father, and pray your responses to the Father:

After a few days, the younger son collected all his belongings and set off to distant country where he squandered his inheritance on a life of dissipation. When he had freely spent everything, a severe famine struck that country, and he found himself in dire need. So he hired himself out to one of the local citizens who sent him to his farm to tend the swine. And he longed to eat his fill of the pods on which the swine fed, but nobody gave him any. Coming to his senses he thought: “How many of my father’s hired workers have enough food to eat, but here I am, dying from hunger. I shall get up and go to my father and I shall say to him: ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as you would treat your hired workers.’”

Did you ever stray from your true “home”, seeking happiness or validation in the wrong things? Was there ever a time that you were away from God your father? How did you get back?

Do you need forgiveness? Why is it sometimes hard to say “I’m sorry,” or “I was wrong”?

Is it difficult for us sometimes to see that good things happen to people who don’t deserve them? How do we deal with this problem?

Pray the Our Father, paying special attention to the phrase: “Forgive us our sins as we forgive the sins of others.” Why is it so difficult to forgive without condition? Is there someone in your life who needs your forgiveness?

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

The parable of the Prodigal Son is a story that speaks about a love that existed before any rejection was possible and that will still be there after all the rejections have taken place. It is the first and everlasting love of a God who is Father as well as Mother… It is the love that always welcomes home and always wants to celebrate.

—Henri Nouwen: The Return of the Prodigal Son, p.108-109

This showing of compassion extends to showing it to ourselves.

Try to let go of some issue you have been blaming yourself for, and trust wholeheartedly in the love of God.

Try to receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation this Lent.

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

Read Psalm 32 and let the words of the psalm wash over you. With which of the phrases do you most identify? Why?

Blessed is the one whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered. Blessed is the one whose sin the LORD does not count against him and in whose spirit is no deceit. When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the LORD”—and you forgave the guilt of my sin. Therefore let everyone who is godly pray to you while you may be found; surely when the mighty waters rise, they will not reach him. You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance. I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you and watch over you. Do not be like the horse or the mule, which have no understanding but must be controlled by bit and bridle or they will not come to you. Many are the woes of the wicked, but the LORD’s unfailing love surrounds the man who trusts in him.

Literary Reflection:

Read the following poem by Wendell Berry. How does it relate to God’s forgiveness of us?

“To My Mother”

I was your rebellious son,
do you remember? Sometimes
I wonder if you do remember,
so complete has your forgiveness been.

So complete has your forgiveness been
I wonder sometimes if it did not
precede my wrong, and I erred,
safe found, within your love,

prepared ahead of me, the way home,
or my bed at night, so that almost
I should forgive you, who perhaps
saw the worst that I might do,

and forgave me before I could act,
causing me to smile now, looking back,
to see how paltry was my worst,
compared to your forgiveness of it

already given. And this, then,
is the vision of that Heaven of which
we have heard, where those who love
each other have forgiven each other,

where, for that, the leaves are green
the light a music in the air,
and all is unentangled,
and all is undismayed.

Literary Reflection:

The following poem by Father Ed Ingebretzen, captures for us the close relationship God, through Jesus has with humanity, and reaffirms our belief in God’s unending love:

“Creed”

We believe in one God implicit in a thousand faces a God who is not merely kind. He has breathed our mud and lust, graveled feet as we over stones; broken bread, bones. He Is not merely kind. Touch him he bleeds as we, also bleeds burns as we in love’s irrevocable heat. We are to God’s amazing vision crucial —this our endless agony still, endless peace. In large circles we open with God and with God we close and are just begun.

Suggested Reading:

Stanford Author Tobias Wolff has written a wonderful short story called “The Rich Brother”. It can be found in his short story collection Back in the World.

Closing Prayer

I ask you, Lord, to bless me with compassion, mercy, and understanding for those who have messed up their lives in some way. I ask you Lord, to extend your mercy and compassion toward me, to extend forgiveness for my self-absorption and for the hurts I have inflicted on others. I ask you, Lord, to help me return renewed, to strengthen my relationships with others in my life, to strengthen my relationship with you…

Third Sunday in Lent, March 20, 2022

God is mysterious but not malicious

Luke 13:1–9

At that time some people who were present there told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with the blood of their sacrifices.

He said to them in reply, “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were greater sinners than all other Galileans? By no means! But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!

Or those eighteen people who were killed when the tower at Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than everyone else who lived in Jerusalem? By no means! But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!”

And he told them this parable: “There once was a person who had a fig tree planted in his orchard, and when he came in search of fruit on it but found none, he said to the gardener, ‘For three years now I have come in search of fruit on this fig tree but have found none. [So] cut it down. Why should it exhaust the soil?’

He said to him in reply, ‘Sir, leave it for this year also, and I shall cultivate the ground around it and fertilize it; it may bear fruit in the future. If not you can cut it down.’”

Note:

In verse 3, we have the word repent, which in Greek is Metanoia. Meta means change in Greek, and noos is the word for mind (which could mean attitude, opinion, outlook, and maybe even your way of life).

So repentance is not about apologies, about feeling guilty and sorry; it is about a dramatic change in our orientation, our attitude. That is the kind of repentance Lent is all about, and it culminates in baptism for those who wish to change their stance toward God forever. This is why this is such a good reading for Lent. It is God’s mercy and graciousness that gives us the time and space to change for the better and produce good for the Kingdom. An awareness of this graciousness of God may help us find the patience and the kindness toward others and refrain from judgement of them as well.

Read another reflection on transformation (metanoia) as the real meaning of Lent >>

Music Meditations

• I Heard the Voice of Jesus say—Michael Card/Blarney Pilgrim (an Irish version in honor of St. Patrick’s Day)
• Amazing Grace—either the usual version or a traditional one sung by BYU Women’s Choir
• Open My Eyes, Lord
• God Hears the Cry of the Poor
• I Will Lift up My Eyes

Opening Prayer

Jesus, thank you for not giving up on us, for not giving up on me. Help me to see your compassion and your invitation to growth. Give me the resolve, the courage, and the energy to make my life fruitful for your Kingdom. Help me to realize that I sometimes have been a parasite, and give me a second chance.

Help me, Jesus, not to be judging of others whose choices are ones I cannot approve of. Help me to extend second and third chances to those who have hurt or disappointment me, while guarding my own physical and mental well-being. Help me to realize that those choices are theirs and not mine to make, and be patient while they learn.

Help me, Jesus, to be kind.

Companions for the Journey

This is a short writing from one of the Christian or non-Christian witnesses of our tradition—a person who embodies the theme of the gospel we are studying today.

This is from “First Impressions”, a service of the Southern Dominican Province, in 2007:

Imagine if there were modern forms of communication in Jesus’ day—radio, television and the internet. Judging from today’s gospel, there would be two items at “the top of the news hour.” People would also be calling friends and relatives, “Have you heard what happened?” Others would write email and text messages about the recent sad events. Upon hearing the tragic news people would say what we all tend to say at such times, “Oh, what a shame! How terrible! Oh, my gosh!”

What would the current news have been that would have stirred such responses? Judging from the beginning of today’s gospel there were two items on everyone’s tongues. While they didn’t have our modern forms of communication, Jesus’ contemporaries knew what had happened and they shared the news with Jesus. Bad news travels fast in any age. People told Jesus about the tyrant Pilate’s slaughter of Galileans who went to Jerusalem to offer sacrifice in the Temple. Apparently Pilate compounded the brutality by mingling their blood with the blood of their sacrifices. One can only imagine the details of what happened and the sense of outrage, impotency and humiliation the Jewish people would have felt about the murders that were compounded by sacrilege. Unfortunately, people then and now were accustomed to the harsh excesses of oppressors. At least Jesus’ contemporaries had a specific human to blame for this first piece of bad news.

Jesus mentions a second tragic event that his listeners also knew about; a tower in Siloam had collapsed and 18 people were killed. While the first item of bad news could be blamed on human malice; what would the people have thought about the second? In Jesus’ time they would have deduced that God was punishing sinners. It is not unlike what people say these days when tragedy strikes, “What did I do that God is punishing me so?” Jesus dispels this kind of thinking when he asks if his hearers thought the slaughtered Galileans were “greater sinners than all other Galileans.” Or, that the 18 Siloam victims, “were more guilty than everyone else who lived in Jerusalem.” Tragedy didn’t happen to those people because they deserved punishment for their sin. To credit their deaths to their guilt lets others off the hook and leads to fallacious thinking. “I must be doing fine in God’s eyes since my life is so good.” People who are prosperous or healthy say they are “blessed.”

It is good to appreciate and be thankful for our lives; but today’s gospel suggests a caution. Our prosperity and well-being have nothing to do with our virtue, nor is it a reward for goodness. Jesus brushes aside such presumptuous conclusions and challenges his hearers to examine their lives and make changes where necessary. Bad things happen and we cannot put off changes we should be making, for we may not have the time we think we have. Life isn’t predictable and we can’t let our routines and regular daily patterns lull us into complacency. It may be later than we think. Each day is a special gift, but we have no certitude about what the day will bring. Life doesn’t come with guarantees. The real gift of God, Jesus says, isn’t our prosperity or that everything is going to go smoothly for us. Rather, God gifts us with mercy and time to change. To emphasize this point Jesus tells the parable of the fig tree. In the bible the fig tree often represents Israel (e.g. Jeremiah 24: 1-10). Fig trees required a lot of tending—like the care Israel required and received from God. It took three years for a fig tree to bear fruit—quite an investment of time, money, work and patience! When the owner of the orchard told his gardener to cut down the fig tree, it made perfect horticultural sense since it hadn’t borne fruit in the expected three years. “So, cut it down. Why should it exhaust the soil.” The tree should have been replaced by a new one that would produce fruit in due time. But the gardener gets the owner to allow the tree another year. The fig tree is supposed to bear fruit to fulfill its purpose. A reprieve is given; but there is still a deadline.

What a grace time can be for us… to have space and time to grow, mature spiritually, reform our lives, serve the Lord and remove the obstacles, big and small, between God and us and between us and others. These are the gifts God offers us by giving us more time. Daily life may seem routine and a hectic grind, but if we open our eyes and reflect, we might see the gracious hand of God reaching out to us through friends and enemies; in the large and small breaks in the routine; in the quiet moments and even the frenetic rush; and in the surprises. God’s patience with us is extraordinary. Look at what we humans put Jesus through and still God didn’t give up on us; we are graced with time.

However, the parable isn’t open-ended. Time does run out, not just in the parable’s future, but in our lives—sometimes in unexpected and even tragic ways. When that happens we might find ourselves emotionally and spiritually unprepared. That’s not what God wants for us, hence Jesus’ parable offers tolerance and patience before judgment. It is a good parable for Lent and it isn’t so much a threat as it is a grace: the year’s extension for the fig tree is a grace, because it offers reprieve with time to become fruitful; the warning is also a grace, because it can shake us out of our torpor and stir us to do something.

And isn’t Lent a good time for such a response from us?

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

“But unless you repent, you too will all perish”
(Unless you change your mind, your ways, you too will all perish)

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 I see human life as a gift?
• Can bad things happen to good people?
  Do I ever feel that if I am a good person, I should be rewarded by God with good luck?
• Do I always want God (or my religion) to explain bad events in my life?
• Have I ever equated tragedy with divine retribution?
  Do I sometimes wonder if somehow people deserve their bad luck?
• Do I blame people for certain illnesses they experience?
  Do I think of mental illness as a true illness or just bad behavior someone could reform?
  How do I tell the difference?
• What, in terms of my relationship to God, do I build my life upon?
• Is “wasting soil” a bad thing? What are some human examples of wasting soil?
• Do I ever dismiss another as a “waste of space”?
• If the fruit tree were a human, what would its expected “fruit” be? (repentance, finding a purpose in life, doing good for others, etc.)?
• What “fruits” are expected of me?
• What motivates me to be more like Jesus? (fear/hope/gratitude/mercy)
• The fig tree got another year—a graced time in which to do what it was meant to do, produce fruit. Do I look at my time on earth as graced time?
  What qualities do I need to cultivate in the time I have on earth to be more like Jesus?
• What are the growth areas in my life?
  Which have produced good fruit and which need to be cultivated further?
• Do I realize that God, like the gardener, is constantly working with me to help me be the most fruitful disciple I can be. What has God done to support me, to encourage me, to prune me?
  From John Harrington, S.J.: How do I relate to the justice and mercy of God in my own life?
• I am called to “repent”, to turn my life around.
  What do I need to change my attitude/mind about?
  What behaviors do I need to change?
  What is one way I can mirror the compassion and kindness of Jesus?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

Adapted from Sacred Space, a service of the Irish Jesuits:

Jesus does not leave us unaided. As with the fig tree, He provides us with everything we need to bear fruit. There is an old story which describes Peter at the gates of heaven. The world has ended. The sheep have been separated from the goats; all the faithful have entered heaven and Peter is preparing to close the gates. Then he sees Jesus standing outside. ‘Master, he says, ‘what are you doing outside?’. Jesus replies: I’m waiting for Judas’.

Do I believe that Jesus waits for me too, beyond the end of time? Do I believe that Jesus understands that I must go to Him within my own time? Do I believe He created me in freedom, to live in the freedom He intended? Do I believe He will not force me to go in, but stands at the door and waits? Am I aware of his patience and his all-enveloping love? I speak to Him about where I am in my faith journey, in my life journey, trusting that he understands and cares.

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

I read Isaiah 55:8-9…

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

We live in a meritocracy. The world says: “Yes, I love you if you are good-looking, intelligent, and wealthy. I love you if you have a good education, a good job, good connections. I love you if you produce much, seek much, buy much. There are endless “ifs” hidden in the world’s love… The world’s love is and always will be, conditional. (Henri Nouwen)

How does this differ from God’s love?

We live in a world where prejudice is operative; people are dismissed or marginalized because of the color of their skin, their religious beliefs, their sexual orientation or their gender. Jesus hung out with prostitutes, tax collectors, Samaritans, a few Pharisees, sinners of all stripes. His closest friends were fairly dim about his teachings most of the time.

What does this tell us about Jesus’ value system?

There is a dirty little secret about a lot of religious people; they subscribe to a religious meritocracy. The unconscious scenario goes like this: If I follow the rules, am faithful in my prayers, and try very hard to live a life of goodness and charity, I kind of expect some sort of recognition from God as a result and am secretly, and sometimes not-so-secretly, outraged that my prayers aren’t answered, or when misfortune befalls me. My religiosity is supposed to be a sort of shield against misfortune or failure. Even the great Jesuit poet Gerard Manley Hopkins cried:

Thou are indeed, just, Lord, if I contend with thee; but, sir, so what I plead is just. Why do sinners’ ways prosper? And why must Disappointment all I endeavor end?

Then read scripture (Mt 5:45): This is what God does. He gives his best—the sun to warm and the rain to nourish—to everyone, the good and the bad, the nice and the nasty. If I am honest, this is a little galling. This gospel is a call to repentance—to change my heart and change my thinking. How do I adjust my thinking, my expectations and my actions so that they mirror those of God more closely?

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

Read Luke 7:36-50 (The woman with a bad reputation who washes Jesus’ feet) Picture all the men coming together to dine at the house of Simon the Pharisee. Imagine the opulent room—tables laden with all sorts of delicious delicacies and wonderful wines, with well-dressed men reclining languidly at this feast. You look around at your friends and a few you might not know, including a scruffy-looking young man with well-worn robes and filthy feet. Who can he be, and how did he get invited to this Banquet?

Suddenly, there is a commotion as a woman with an unsavory reputation bursts into the dining salon where the only women who are allowed are servants. Imagine their shock and outrage as she proceeds with her extravagant gesture, washing Jesus’ feet with her copious tears and drying them with her hair (!) before anointing them with costly perfumed oil from the alabaster jar she has brought with her. Can you almost see the smirk on Simon’s face as he contemplates how embarrassed Jesus would be if he knew who this woman really was? Imagine also his chagrin as Jesus discerns Simon’s thoughts and puts him in his place with a parable about forgiveness. Chiding Simon for his lack of generosity and lack of graciousness, Jesus points out those very qualities of generosity and graciousness in the woman before him and announces that her sins are forgiven because of her great love. Jesus turns and gently speaks those words we all long to hear: “Go in peace. Your sins are forgiven.”

What does this story tell you about God’s reaction to your own sins? What does it tell you about God’s compassion and mercy? Stand before Jesus in your heart, ready to let him see all your faults, and pray the following prayer reflection by Sister Miriam Therese Winter (from WomanWord, p.72):

Center me enter me mystical mystery. Cleanse me and quiet me, tell me Thou art the thin thread of hope that sustains my believing, the rush of content that enables my heart.

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

Make a phone call or send a message to someone in your life today who might need a second chance.

Homeless people, too, need our care and attention. Make a point to encounter a homeless person with genuine care and kindness this week, as you think Jesus might…

Poetic Reflection:

How does this poem by Denise Levertov capture the often barrenness of our reactions to Jesus’ presence in our lives as reflected in the way we treat others? In what way are we a barren fig tree? How can we teach ourselves to bear the fruit of God’s presence in this world?

“What the Fig Tree Said:”

Literal minds! Embarrassed humans! His friends were blurting for Him in secret: wouldn’t admit they were shocked. They thought Him petulant to curse me!—yet how could the Lord be unfair?—so they looked away, then and now. But I, I knew that helplessly barren though I was, my day had come. I served Christ the Poet, who spoke in images: I was at hand, a metaphor for their failure to bring forth what is within them (as figs were not within me). They who had walked in His sunlight presence, they could have ripened, could have perceived His thirst and hunger, His innocent appetite; they could have offered human fruits—compassion, comprehension— without being asked, without being told of need. My absent fruit stood for their barren hearts. He cursed not me, not them, but (ears that hear not, eyes that see not) their dullness, that withholds gifts unimagined.

Closing Prayer

Center me enter me mystical mystery. Cleanse me and quiet me, tell me Thou art the thin thread of hope that sustains my believing, the rush of content that enables my heart.

—Sister Miriam Theresa Winter