30th Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 23, 2022

Spiritual Arrogance and True Humility

Luke 18: 9–14

To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’

“But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’

“I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

Music Meditations

• Kyrie Eleison—Chris Tomlin, Matt Redman, Matt Maher
• O Lord I Am Not Worthy (In YouTube it says: Catholic Gregorian Chant, but it is really just a traditional Catholic Eucharistic hymn)
• Lord, I Need You—Chris Tomlin
• Amazing Grace

Opening Prayer

Lord, keep me centered on you and not on my goodness, my accomplishments. Teach me not to judge others in comparison to myself, and teach me to be generous in praise of others. Give me humility and pureness of heart.

Companions for the Journey

A Big Heart Open to God: an interview with Pope Francis (from America magazine)

Editor’s Note: This interview with Pope Francis took place over the course of three meetings during August 2013 in Rome. The interview was conducted in person by Antonio Spadaro, S.J., editor in chief of La Civiltà Cattolica, the Italian Jesuit journal. The interview was conducted in Italian. After the Italian text was officially approved, America commissioned a team of five independent experts to translate it into English. America is solely responsible for the accuracy of this translation. Father Spadaro met the pope at the Vatican in the pope’s apartments in the Casa Santa Marta, where he has chosen to live since his election. Father Spadaro begins his account of the interview with a description of the pope’s living quarters: The setting is simple, austere. The workspace occupied by the desk is small. I am impressed not only by the simplicity of the furniture, but also by the objects in the room. There are only a few. These include an icon of St. Francis, a statue of Our Lady of Luján, patron saint of Argentina, a crucifix and a statue of St. Joseph sleeping. The spirituality of Jorge Mario Bergoglio is not made of “harmonized energies,” as he would call them, but of human faces: Christ, St. Francis, St. Joseph and Mary.

Who Is Jorge Mario Bergoglio?

I am a sinner. This is the most accurate definition. It is not a figure of speech, a literary genre. I am a sinner.

I ask Pope Francis point-blank: “Who is Jorge Mario Bergoglio?” He stares at me in silence. I ask him if I may ask him this question. He nods and replies: “I do not know what might be the most fitting description.... I am a sinner. This is the most accurate definition. It is not a figure of speech, a literary genre. I am a sinner.” The pope continues to reflect and concentrate, as if he did not expect this question, as if he were forced to reflect further. “Yes, perhaps I can say that I am a bit astute, that I can adapt to circumstances, but it is also true that I am a bit naïve. Yes, but the best summary, the one that comes more from the inside and I feel most true is this: I am a sinner whom the Lord has looked upon.” And he repeats: “I am one who is looked upon by the Lord. I always felt my motto, Miserando atque Eligendo [By Having Mercy and by Choosing Him], was very true for me.” The motto is taken from the Homilies of Bede the Venerable, who writes in his comments on the Gospel story of the calling of Matthew: “Jesus saw a publican, and since he looked at him with feelings of love and chose him, he said to him, ‘Follow me.’” The pope adds: “I think the Latin gerund miserando is impossible to translate in both Italian and Spanish. I like to translate it with another gerund that does not exist: misericordiando [“mercy-ing”]. “That finger of Jesus, pointing at Matthew. That’s me. I feel like him. Like Matthew.” Here the pope becomes determined, as if he had finally found the image he was looking for: “It is the gesture of Matthew that strikes me: he holds on to his money as if to say, ‘No, not me! No, this money is mine.’ Here, this is me, a sinner on whom the Lord has turned his gaze. And this is what I said when they asked me if I would accept my election as pontiff.” Then the pope whispers in Latin: “I am a sinner, but I trust in the infinite mercy and patience of our Lord Jesus Christ, and I accept in a spirit of penance.

Prayer: I ask Pope Francis about his preferred way to pray.

“I pray the breviary every morning. I like to pray with the psalms. Then, later, I celebrate Mass. I pray the Rosary. What I really prefer is adoration in the evening, even when I get distracted and think of other things, or even fall asleep praying. In the evening then, between seven and eight o’clock, I stay in front of the Blessed Sacrament for an hour in adoration. But I pray mentally even when I am waiting at the dentist or at other times of the day. “Prayer for me is always a prayer full of memory, of recollection, even the memory of my own history or what the Lord has done in his church or in a particular parish. For me it is the memory of which St. Ignatius speaks in the First Week of the Exercises in the encounter with the merciful Christ crucified. And I ask myself: ‘What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What should I do for Christ?’ It is the memory of which Ignatius speaks in the ‘Contemplation for Experiencing Divine Love,’ when he asks us to recall the gifts we have received. But above all, I also know that the Lord remembers me. I can forget about him, but I know that he never, ever forgets me. Memory has a fundamental role for the heart of a Jesuit: memory of grace, the memory mentioned in Deuteronomy, the memory of God’s works that are the basis of the covenant between God and the people. It is this memory that makes me his son and that makes me a father, too.”

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

Whoever exalts himself shall be humbled, and whoever humbles himself shall BE exalted.

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

How many of my prayers start with "I"? What do I tell God about myself? Do my prayers generally focus on God or on myself? Who are the tax collectors in my life? Who are the Pharisees? Have I ever done good or religious things publicly, because there is a payback for me? Where does my self-image come from? How is Jesus a model for me in terms of this? Do I ever pray "Lord, I thank you that I am not like that Pharisee--overly pious and self-righteous.”? Where is the humility in this? How do I define humility? What is false humility? How do I thank God for the moral gifts I have been given without becoming a cautionary tale of self-praise? Am I smug about the way I practice my religion and dismissive or critical of those whose ideas or practices are different? Do I ever stop to think that there might be some compelling reason behind someone’s bad behavior? What would be some ways to stop judging people so harshly? Do I divide people into groups, either cultural, educational, religious or political? If so, am I willing to acknowledge that I have become like the Pharisee? What do I expect from God as a result of my good behavior? Adapted from In Parables: The Challenge of the Historical Jesus by John Dominic Crossan, page 69.: The literal point of the parable [the Pharisee and Tax collector] is a startling story of situational reversal in which the virtuous Pharisee’s prayer is rejected by God and the sinful publican’s prayer gains approval. The metaphorical challenge is ...clear: the complete, radical, polar reversal of accepted human judgment, even or especially of religious judgment, whereby the kingdom forces its way into human awareness. What, in other words, if God does not play the game by our rules? Does it seem that sometimes God plays by different rules than humans do? How do I feel about this? From Renew Scripture series: 'Accurate self-assessment is essential to our development as human beings". In what way do I evaluate my own life? This gospel focusses on honesty and perseverance in prayer. To what kind of action does this inspire you?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

I re-read this parable of the Pharisee and Publican. I place myself in the events of this little story. What does the temple look like? Where is each man standing? What is the posture and manner of the Pharisee? How about that of the Publican (tax collector)? Who do I identify with more—the man who did what he was supposed to and prayed regularly, gave to the poor, and was an honest, good person, or the tax collector, who preyed on the weak and the helpless, extorting monies from them they could little afford and raking off a profit for himself? When we try to live a good life, is it hard not to be a little smug sometimes? I try to put myself in each man’s shoes. First I look at the part of me that loves and honors God and tries to be a good person. Do I unconsciously measure my goodness against that of others around me? Isn’t that a natural thing to do? Now I look at the part of me, like the tax collector, who has done some things for my own advancement that I’m not too proud of—a sleazy little lie here, a little shameless flattery there, perhaps a little subtle character assassination to top it off. Which side of me do I emphasize when I pray? I speak to Jesus about both sides of my nature and pray for the understanding to know when I’ve been wrong, for humility which does not allow for personal pride in my own goodness, and for the wisdom to know that both understanding and humility are gifts of God.

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

Here are some ways in which we can be like the tax collector; can you think of some more? Withhold criticism of others Give another the benefit of the doubt Let God be the judge Forget past mistakes and offenses of others Be willing to be surprised and pleased by another's growth and progress Which of these is the easiest for me to make a habit? Which of these is the most difficult for me to make a habit? I talk to Jesus about my attempts to respond to this parable and ask for his help to be less smug about my own wonderfulness.

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

In New Seeds of Contemplation Thomas Merton said:

And now I am thinking of the disease which is spiritual pride. I am thinking of the particular unreality that gets into the hearts of saints and eats their sanctity away before it is mature. There is something of this worm in the hearts of all religious men. As soon as they have done something which they know to be good in the eyes of God, they tend to takes its reality to themselves and to make it their own. They tend to destroy their virtues by claiming them for themselves and clothing their own private illusion of themselves with values that belong to God. Who can escape the desire to breathe a different atmosphere from the rest of men? (p. 49) The saints are what they are not because their sanctity makes them admirable to others, but because the gift of sainthood makes it possible for them to admire everybody else (p.57).

Think about your particular spiritual gifts, but be very careful not to be smug about them and careful not to compare yourself to someone else, good or bad. What can you do to be honest with yourself about all the ways in which you have been especially arrogant about your own beliefs or actions, and particularly dismissive of the beliefs and actions of others. Then, write your own prayer to God, thanking God for all the ways that you are like others, and thanking God for all those in your life who have been an example and a corrective to your sometimes self-absorbed, tendencies. Recall the times that you have fallen short of the ideal, knowing that God has continued to be forgiving and merciful. Then recall times that you have been harsh or dismissive in your judgement of other people or other groups. Ask God to help you do better.

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

Think of someone in your life right now whose actions you don't particularly admire. Try to spend some time talking to this person in an attempt to get to know her better, not to convince him of the wrongheadedness of his actions. Try to listen to this person with a truly open mind, realizing that there may be much more that this person is dealing with than you know about. Pray for unconditional love for this person.

Poetic Reflection:

Read the following poems by Rev. Ed. Ingebretzen, S.J., and Turner Cassidy and think again of the message of the story of the Publican and the Pharisee.

“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.

—Ed. Ingebretzen, S.J., from To Keep From Singing

“Carpenters”

Forgiven, unforgiven, they who drive the nails Know what they do: they hammer. If they doubt, if their vocation fails, They only swell the number, Large already, of the mutineers and thieves. With only chance and duty There to cloak them, they elect and nail. The vinegar will pity. Judas who sops their silver his accuser, errs To blame the unrewarded. They guard the branch he hangs from. Guilt occurs Where it can be afforded.

—Turner Cassidy, from The Uncommon Touch

A great short story for further reading:

Flannery O'Connor, "Revelation" from Collected Works

Closing Prayer

Adapted from sacred Space, a service of the Irish Jesuits, 2022

Lord, can I ever get rid completely of the Pharisee in me? I find it is so easy to feel superior to others in one way or another while being blind to my own shortcomings. Remind me that humility, however, is not meant to exaggerate my shortcomings and failings, but simply to trust that you understand and will help me to do better. Help me to be honest with myself and kind to myself, grounded in the reality of your love. Remind me that I am not loved by you because I am good, but because you are good. My sinfulness, failures are not reasons for doubting your love, but rather they are an invitation to marvel all the more at your loving kindness.

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 16, 2022

What is prayer for? What does perseverance in prayer mean to me?

Luke 18: 1–8

Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up. He said: “In a certain town there was a judge who neither feared God nor cared what people thought. And there was a widow in that town who kept coming to him with the plea, ‘Grant me justice against my adversary.’

“For some time he refused. But finally he said to himself, ‘Even though I don’t fear God or care what people think, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will see that she gets justice, so that she won’t eventually come and attack me!’”

And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? I tell you, he will see that they get justice, and quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?”

Music Meditations

• My God, My God, Why (Psalm 22)—Psalm Project
• The Lord’s Prayer—Andrea Bocelli
• Kyrie Eleison—Chris Tomlin and others
• Lord, I Need You—Matt Maher
• Prayer of St. Francis

Companions for the Journey

From “First Impressions, 2019”:

We need to be wary of today’s parable of the widow and the unjust judge, lest we convey a false image of God. (Remember the command, “Thou shall not have strange gods before me.”) Well, if we are not careful, we are liable to imagine a “strange god” and even seem to make what we say sound legitimate or backed up by this parable.

The trap lies in our modern tendency to be too literal. By that I mean, we tend to miss the imaginative aspects of these parables and apply a strict formula to them in our interpretation. It goes something like this: the judge is God and we are the widows. So, like the widow we need to pray incessantly if we want to get what we want from God. Keep at it, God will eventually give in – isn’t that what the parable seems to imply? This, or similar ways of interpreting parables, treats them as allegories – not parables. Look what such an interpretation does to our faith: it paints God as hard-hearted and our constant prayer like water dripping on the stone heart of a reluctant God, hoping to eventually wear God down on our behalf. Remember too that the judge in the parable is unjust – making it even more dangerous to allegorize this parable, lest God take on the features of this judge in our imaginations.

If God gets so misrepresented then we, who are praying earnestly and even desperately for something, are made to feel doubly alone, with no one on our side against the Almighty and seeming-reluctant God. If this is what we infer from this parable, no matter how unintentionally, then we will have created a “strange god” indeed! Certainly not the God of Jesus’ words and actions. This false image will only reinforce an old stereotype of a God so offended by our sin, that God would punish us severely, were it not for Jesus, God’s beloved child who, by his faithfulness and sacrifice, stays God’s angry hand. This makes God sound schizophrenic – partially with us in Jesus, but ill-disposed as our Creator – with the Holy Spirit going back and forth between us humans and the two trying to tie up the loose ends.

Even if we didn’t have the citation telling us that this is a parable from Luke’s gospel, we could easily guess its authorship. The parable has the signs of a Lucan tale, for again, we hear his often-repeated themes about the poor, women and prayer. Widows were especially vulnerable in biblical times and in the scriptures we often hear the reference to “widows and orphans” – two particularly defenseless and needy groups. A widow would be dependent on her sons, or a close male relative to take care of her. She was especially vulnerable if the responsible males were indifferent to her welfare, or worse, had defrauded her. In such situations a widow would have recourse to a judge who was supposed to protect the rights of widows and the poor. But the judge to whom our widow turns has no regard for her plight and “neither feared God nor respected any human being.” What chance would she have against a judge like this who disregards the basic commandments about God and neighbor? The cards are stacked against her and things look pretty grim for her ever getting her due.

But this is no ordinary widow! She confronts the judge using the only things she has on her side – her voice and her persistence. What she wants is justice, but from a judge who is not in the least bit interested in giving it to her. The only recourse she would normally have had is not in the least bit interested in her just cause. But by her persistence she wears down the judge who finally gives in to her. Don’t you find it amusing to hear the judge’s fear that a widow is going to come and “strike” him? The original language suggests that he is afraid she will give him a black eye. I hear Jesus’ listeners, so often denied their own rights before the rich and powerful, chuckling as Jesus paints this picture of a “dangerous” widow who will give a good boxing to a corrupt male judge.

This is one of those “how-much-more parables.” Jesus paints a picture of a despicable judge who eventually gives in to the persistent demands of the widow. It is as if he is saying, “If this kind of a person eventually responds, how much more will God?” Why? Because God is not turned against us and will “secure the rights” of God’s chosen. Of course, our struggle lies in the fact that so much in our world is unjust, especially for the disenfranchised. We pray for things to be put right and even pray that we can help make them so. Yet often, conditions don’t improve, sometimes they even get worse. Doesn’t that make you want to despair of every seeing things righted? So, we are tempted to cease our works and quite our prayers. “What’s the use?”, we lament. Even when things improve a bit there still is an enormous mountain of wrongs to address – in our homes, church, community and world. We feel our efforts are so puny and so we are tempted to withdraw back into our private world saying, “What difference can I make?”

Such feelings tempt us to quit our efforts at prayer and works on behalf of God’s reign. Jesus expresses how serious the issues are, how powerful the forces against us are and seems to worry about the effects on his disciples. He asks, “But when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” Not an idle, or speculative question, but one that is based on the experiences of the church from its beginnings: disciples have hard work and prayer to do until the Lord returns and the wait, without immediate signs of “success,” can disillusion us and threaten our faith.

If we are looking for an image of the divine in this parable and don’t find it in the judge, is there another possibility? Here is another approach by the New Testament scholar Barbara Reid (Parables For Preachers: The Gospel of Luke, Year C. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2000.). She suggests finding the God-like figure in the widow who persistently pursues injustice, denouncing it until justice is achieved. This interpretation is consistent with the New Testament message that power is found in weakness. A conclusion we would draw for ourselves then is that if this is the God in whose image we are made, then we too should tirelessly pursue justice even if it is against more powerful forces than we can muster.

I like the first reading’s image for prayer. As powerful and exemplary a model of faith Moses was during hard times, nevertheless, as the battle against Amalek wears on, Moses’ raised hands “grew tired.” We can identify with that fatigue, we who find it hard to keep our hands raised in prayer as life tries to wear us down. Even Moses needed help. So, Aaron and Hur support his hands, “one on one side and one on the other, so his hands remained steady till sunset.” We all need help in our struggles against evil forces and in our desire to stay faithful in hard times.

Look around at those who worship with us at this Eucharist. We see the elderly, even infirmed, here – still praying. We know of those who can’t get out of bed to come to church, but we also know they are praying and staying faithful. They give strength and determination to our faltering prayer, they help keep our hands “raised.” Perhaps someone notices us here at worship. We don’t think of ourselves as great models of faith, but who knows what straggling soul at prayer is helped by seeing us here? We may be helping them keep their faltering and tired hands “raised” in hope and prayer.

Further reading:

• Commentary on Luke 18:1-8 from “Living Space” >>
• Homily from 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, by Father Robert Glynn, S.J. >>

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

Pay attention to what the dishonest judge says. Will not God secure the rights of his chosen ones who call out to him day and night?

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 do you find admirable about this powerless widow? The widow’s plight calls to mind those who are deprived of justice in our own society. What is our obligation in social justice to speak up and advocate for those who have no one to advocate for them? Do we rely on God alone to render justice, or do we have a role to play in condemning hatred, killing, abuse of the poor and the down trodden, and other evils? How often are our prayers “begging prayers” asking God to make something happen that we need or that will make us happy? How does God answer “competing” prayers (Please make my candidate, my side, my proposal, etc. win….) from people? What is prayer for? Do you have a favorite prayer? When we pray, are we real and honest with God, or do we put on our party manners and only murmur pleasantries to God? Do we say only “ canned” prayers that we have learned as children? When are they helpful? When are they not enough? Prayer is talking with something or anything with which we seek union, even if we are bitter, insane, or broken. Says Anne Lamott in her book: Help Thanks Wow: The three Essential Prayers. She says that we may not even be able to get it together when we show up in such miserable shape. She goes on to say “My belief is when you are tng the truth, you’reclose to God. If you say to God, ‘I am exhausted and depressed beyond words, and I don’t like you at all right now’….that might be the most honest thing you’ve ever said.” Do you agree with her? Is that scary? Blasphemous? Do we ever think that what we are concerned about or need is too petty for God’s attention? What does that say to us about God’s love--that God only cares about world catastrophes, but doesn’t give a fig about our miserable little sorrows, burdens and worries? “Three terrible truths of existence: we are so ruined, and so loved, and in charge of so little.” How can this revelation lead us to honest prayer? Something to be said for keeping prayers simple. What is your idea of simple prayer? Is simply praying “I need help with this, my friend” a good place to start? Can we pray by asking “Is anyone there? Is anyone listening?” Do I pray for things around me to be changed to fit my plans/hopes, or do I pray to be changed myself--say, in order to cope with what I encounter and make me a better person for it? “Three things I cannot change: the past, the truth, and someone else.” (adapted from Anne Lamott) How many times have I pleaded with God to change or alter one of those realities? How did that work out? When I realized that what I was actually praying for was an impossibility, did I hit the re-set button? Have I ever thrown a tantrum and let God know I was mighty angry over something? Is this ok? Do I ever pray for God to do something for me? (I do, a little….well, maybe a lot!) Do I ever pray for miracles? How do I feel if they do not happen? How do I feel if they do happen? What happens when my prayer is not answered, or not answered in the way I want? Do I get angry at God? Do I give up? What do I think Jesus would encourage me to do based on this parable? Do I ever try to manipulate God? Say, by overstating my case, or by promising to give up something I really like? Why might I think that punishing myself would make God happy and more inclined to listen to me? As a result of prayer, have I become more kind, more generous, more understanding, kinder to myself and others?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

(This is taken from "First Impressions", a service of the Southern Dominican Province for 29 Sunday C 2019):

The widow’s plight calls to mind those who are deprived of justice in our own society.  As elections draw near, whose voices are going to be heard by both politicians and voters?  Whose interests will be at the top of the list? Will the voices of the poor and powerless be outshouted by individuals and special interest groups who have more financial or voting power?  It would be a rare election indeed if this didn’t happen.  Most often the poor, minorities, immigrants, homeless, infirmed, aged and very young are not first on the minds of those running for office, or those casting votes.  We can hear the widow’s voice in another way, for now she is speaking for those in our society who are not heard despite their just and desperate need.  Will her voice be heard today by city planners deciding where to put a new power plant, city dump, petro-chemical plant, refinery?  Who will influence municipal and federal governments when decisions are being made about which homes will be destroyed to build a super highway?  Picture the widow standing among those disenfranchised at our borders and hear her voice, “Render a just decision for [us] against [our] adversary.” What is the role of prayer, generally, in social justice situations? What is my role, generally, in social justice situations?

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

Here is a prayer from a spiritual writer:

Hi God, I am just a mess. It is all hopeless What else is new? Would be sick of me, if I were you, But miraculously, you are not, I know I have no control over other people's lives, and I hate this. Yet I believe that if I accept this and surrender, you will meet me wherever I am. Wow, can this be true? If am, how is this afternoon--say, two-ish? Thank you in advance for your company and blessings. You have never let me down. Amen

Get out a journal, and write your very own prayer, seeking God's help in your life. Be real. Be honest. Be persistent. On small pieces of paper, write down all the things that you are worried about right now. All of them. Then put them in a sealed envelope, or a locked box where you can't get your sticky little fingers on them, and then let God do the work. You just might become unstuck yourself…..

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

Let us take some few minute and ask ourselves about our own prayer life: What part of my personal prayer is asking for what I want? What part of my personal prayer shares with God exactly how I am feeling? What part of my personal prayer is formal, using words and phrases I have memorized, or pray on Sundays? What part of my personal prayer is about trust, open to new adventures? What part of my personal prayer is a plea for mercy, because I have fallen short of my ideals? What part of my personal prayer is thanking God for all that has happened and is happening to me in my life? What part of my prayer is about awe at God's generosity to me and to the world? What part of my prayer is about surrender, saying "Amen", or "Let it be as you say"

Can I find the time to spend 1% of every day in prayer? (That's 15 minutes a day, folks)

Poetic Reflection:

Mary Oliver was a very spiritual person, and I suspect, a prayerful person. For example, her book Thirst, is a small gem of prayerfulness, Here are a couple of her poems on the subject of prayer. Do you have your own favorite?

“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.

“Making the House Ready for the Lord”

Dear Lord, I have swept and I have washed but
still nothing is as shining as it should be
for you. Under the sink, for example, is an
uproar of mice—it is the season of their
many children. What shall I do? And under the eaves
and through the walls the squirrels
have gnawed their ragged entrances—but it is the season
when they need shelter, so what shall I do? And
the raccoon limps into the kitchen and opens the cupboard
while the dog snores, the cat hugs the pillow;
what shall I do? Beautiful is the new snow falling
in the yard and the fox who is staring boldly
up the path, to the door. And still I believe you will
come, Lord: you will, when I speak to the fox,
the sparrow, the lost dog, the shivering sea-goose, know
that really I am speaking to you whenever I say,
as I do all morning and afternoon: Come in, Come in.

Homily from 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, by Father Robert Glynn, S.J.

From Father Bob Glynn, S.J.:

The parable of the unjust judge follows the logic of the parable of the unjust steward and the Synoptic idea that “if you who are evil know how to give your children good things, how much more so will your heavenly Father.” Thus, the judge is by no means God. He represents the “wisdom” of a world where one’s own needs and concerns come first, no matter with what kind of authority one has been entrusted.

The judge in the parable never deals with the injustice with which the widow is concerned, since the reader knows no details of the case by which to assess the judge’s reasoning. Injustice is wrong no matter what, and the woman has asserted herself against a male-dominated social system which would see her treated unjustly no matter what her complaint might be. The judge’s final assessment is not based on the rights of the woman, the indignity of what she may have suffered, the fact that as a widow she has no one to champion her, but must take on a role not afforded her by the society in which she lives and which is entrusted with her welfare. Rather, like all who coordinate and benefit from a dramatically skewed system, he is concerned only what personal gain or loss may accrue to him. In the end, “justice” is not served since the law is not even given a wink and a nod.

The woman engages in an activity which would certainly have not been normal for her day. She insists that she be treated with dignity, that her own needs be considered and weighed by those entrusted with seeing that all who are subject to the (Mosaic) law are giving a fair hearing (or any hearing at all). The woman’s persistence marks the only power she possesses, an unlikely one to win the day with such a judge as the mediator of her complaints. Yet she is triumphant—a clear Lucan theme—and can rejoice that her refusal to remain a passive victim of injustice has borne fruit.

Certainly, God who is the author of justice, who is in fact Truth and Justice himself, can only want that the woman and all who are subordinated to the caprices of the powerful be vindicated and an ill-functioning system be subverted. The call is indeed one to prayer, which requires the one praying to trust that God’s power is for those on the verges of society, those who lack the wherewithal to arrange that their own wills be followed. One’s own power is an ultimate trust in God’s goodness and justice which does not fail those who seek to find in Him what is true and right. Prayer is confidence rather than desperation and involves a sense of trust in God’s radical and pervasive love.

Commentary on Luke 18:1-8 from “Living Space”

From Living Space, a service of the Irish Jesuits

Commentary on Luke 18:1-8

One of the attributes attributed to Luke is that his is a “Gospel of Prayer”. We see Jesus praying in this gospel more than in the others and he gives more teaching about prayer. Today Jesus tells a parable urging perseverance. “He told his disciples a parable about the necessity for them to pray always without becoming weary.” This is very much a theme in Paul’s letters (cf. Rom 1:10; 12:12; Eph 6:18; Col 1:3; 1 Thess 5:17; 2 Thess 1:11, etc., and 2 Cor 4:1,16; Gal 6:9; Eph 3:13; 2 Thess 3:13).
The parable features a totally corrupt judge, who fears neither God nor man. It also features a widow, probably the most powerless, the most pitiful and least pitied of people in the society of those days. She has lost her husband, re-marriage is out of the question, she has lost the support of her own family and her husband’s family, and there is nothing comparable to social welfare for her to lean on.
As far as a corrupt judge is concerned, she can be ignored. She has neither power nor money (for bribing). But this widow is different. She is persistent and will not give up. Eventually, the judge, for his sheer peace of mind, settles in her favour.
If, Jesus concludes, a corrupt and ruthless judge can be moved by a helpless widow, what kind of response can we expect when we, his people, call out in our helplessness to our loving and compassionate God? “I tell you, he will give them swift justice.” That is, he will give them what is rightfully due to them.
But, says Jesus in a challenge which should make us sit up and take notice, “When the Son of Man comes, will he find any faith on earth?” Times of persecution are on the way – they have already begun as this gospel is written – and some will give up under pressure. They will not persevere in keeping close contact with God in prayer, finding him and his peace in the midst of their sufferings.
It is easy to pray when things are going well. It is often in times of pressure that we, too, give up praying when we need it most, when our faith is really being put to the test. We have to pray constantly and consistently. We should not be afraid to ask for what we believe we really need.
But then, if God is such a caring person, why should we have to pray to him at all? We need to keep praying, not for his sake but for our own. By doing so, we maintain an awareness that “by ourselves we can do nothing”.
Secondly, the more we pray, the closer we come to God. And, as we pray, what we ask for will gradually change. Ultimately what we want is what we need. And what we need is to bring our thinking, our dreams, our ambitions totally into line with God’s way of seeing things.
The problem is, as Jesus says at the end today, how many people will really be doing that when he comes looking for us? How often do I pray? How consistently do I ask? What do I ask for? What do I really want? Do I distinguish between what I want and what I really need? And do I really have that faith and trust in the loving providence of my God?
There is another and very indifferent interpretation of this passage. When we read this parable about perseverance, we usually think of it in these terms: God is the judge and we are the widow. This means we should persevere in pestering God until our needs are met.
But what happens if we turn that around and say that we are the judge and God is the widow? In some ways, this interpretation makes more sense. We, like the judge, are basically unjust. Sometimes we, too, have no fear of God; that is, we do not allow God to scare us into being good.
Similarly, like the judge we persist in refusing to listen to the cries of the poor all around us. But God is the persistent widow who will not go away. God keeps badgering us, refusing to accept as final our ‘No’ to love. God will persist until we render a just judgment, that is, until we let the goodness out, until we learn to love.*
In Genesis we are told we are made in the image and likeness of God. Perhaps our prayer could be: Dear God, Persevering One, make us more like you!

28th Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 9, 2022

What is gratitude, and what does it have to do with faith?

Luke 17: 11–19

As he continued his journey to Jerusalem, he traveled through Samaria and Galilee. As he was entering a village, ten lepers met [him]. They stood at a distance from him and raised their voice, saying, “Jesus, Master! Have pity on us!” And when he saw them, he said, “Go show yourselves to the priests.” As they were going they were cleansed.

And one of them, realizing he had been healed, returned, glorifying God in a loud voice; and he fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked him. He was a Samaritan.

Jesus said in reply, “Ten were cleansed, were they not? Where are the other nine? Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?” Then he said to him, “Stand up and go; your faith has saved you.”

Music Meditations

• Healer of My Soul—John Michael Talbot
• You Deliver Me—Selah
• Wonderful Merciful Savior—Selah
• How Great Thou Art—Elvis Presley with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra
• All Creatures Great and Small—John Rutter

Opening Prayer

How often, Lord, have I taken kindness for granted—that of my family and those around me, and especially your many gracious kindnesses to me. I stop now for a moment and recall where you were present to me in the events of this day …

I thank you for being with me today, even when I did not acknowledge your presence or even realize you were there. Help me to be more aware of your ongoing love and care.

Companions for the Journey

By Father Jude Siciliano, O.P.:

Is there a divine ego trip going on in today’s gospel passage? Why is it important that God be “glorified”? Why does Jesus want to be thanked for his cure of the lepers, especially since he just told the 10 to go show themselves to the priests? Aren’t the others just doing what he told them to do—except for the one Samaritan who “disobeys” and returns? The bible seems to be permeated with scenes or statements that reveal God wants to be thanked and glorified. Why does God want all this attention and acknowledgment in the first place? These are my thoughts upon first reading the cure of the ten lepers. I wonder if similar questions might not arise in the congregation today when this story is proclaimed?

Even the most casual bible reader knows that to have leprosy was to be an outcast in Jesus’ day. The leper was expected to stay apart from the community and cry “Unclean, unclean,” to warn others of his/her disease. A priest would have to pronounce the leper clean and the leper would have to make prescribed offerings before being welcomed back into the community’s social and religious life (Lv. 14: 1-32). So, we can understand Jesus’ telling the lepers to show themselves to the priests. He not only wanted to cure them, he wanted them accepted back into their community. (We can see why sin is likened to leprosy, for it offends and cuts us off from the community. Forgiveness has not just personal but social consequences as well. It’s like being cured of leprosy.) In addition, since illnesses were seen as a punishment from God for sin, if they got official religious recognition of their cure, it would be a sign to them, in their way of thinking, of God’s forgiving them and receiving them back.

Jesus’ sending the lepers to the priests shows he didn’t want to break with the Jewish priesthood and the religious tradition into which he was born. Had the priests acknowledged the cure, they would also be recognizing Jesus’ healing power as having its source in God. Presuming the nine made it to the priests, why didn’t the acknowledgment and approbation of Jesus follow? Were the priests and the institutional religion holding too closely to the privileges that came with religious power? God’s good will and benevolence are all too often thwarted by human blindness and recalcitrance. As one ordained in a church community, the story is a sobering reminder that I might not be open to God’s actions when they occur outside my institutional confines. Rather, as in the case of the layman Jesus, God may very well be acting to heal and unify a broken people outside the sanctuary, on the “road”, the place where this miracle happened.

The lepers are “cleansed,” “as they were going.” So, the cure took place on their trip to the priests. We too are a community walking along together in need of healing. As we walk we talk. What happens as we go along? Plenty of evil and negative experiences, to be sure! But healings as well, for the Spirit works among us in our daily exchanges urging us to compassion, forgiveness, courage, steadfastness and the forming of closer human bonds. We walk along and, like the lepers, God is working to cleanse us. But note the response of the Samaritan leper: “realizing he had been healed.” The Samaritan wakes to a new realization. A healing has happened to him and he knows the source. Through Jesus, God has acted to restore his life, indeed, to give him a new life with Jesus as his center. He “realizes” what has happened to him and he returns to the source to give thanks. God doesn’t need the glory; Jesus doesn’t need the thanks. But in glorifying and giving thanks we are rooting ourselves in the ever deepening awareness of our relationship with the gracious God who constantly acts on our behalf to bring us to wholeness. That is why we gather today at Eucharist, we are calling to mind who our God is and what God has done for us, we the beloved community. As we say in the Preface today, “It is right O God, to give you thanks and praise.”

This band of lepers, who experienced suffering and expulsion were united in their misery. And they were cleansed. But note, one realizes he has been “healed.” That’s more profound than just a physical cleansing—a healing. The man’s next actions show the result of the realization of what really happened to him. He returns to glorify God and give thanks to Jesus. The leper sees that God has acted on his behalf. He also realizes that Jesus was the instrument of God’s healing. It’s as if he woke up from a terrible dream and from this moment his life is completely different; not just because of his cure, but now he sees his life anew in terms of Jesus. Jesus names what has been given the man: he can “stand up and go, your faith has saved you.” Do we realize the healing we have received on our journey, how God has acted through others to restore us or do we chalk them up to our own efforts, plans and achievements?

The other nine lepers probably went about their lives. Certainly there would be much now for them to do: return to their families, kiss their children, or marry and start a family, find gainful employment, perhaps even return to the religious practice from which their leprosy had excluded them. But they would have missed the gift of deeper life that the Samaritan leper came to realize: God had loved him and Jesus was the concrete sign of that love and acceptance. If at any time in the future he might sin and feel like the leper he used to be, he could always call on the name of Jesus and be healed again. Whenever his future thoughts would turn to God, Jesus would be part of the picture. Now he knew he would never have to feel cut off from God, now he knew how close he was to God for he would remember returning and getting close to Jesus, close enough to hear, “your faith has saved you”. He would know what a gift he had received, his faith would remind him of that gift. That’s why God calls us to glorify God and give thanks to Jesus. God wants to be in relationship with us and when we acknowledge the good gifts God has given us, we remember who we are, beloved of God. Or as Father John Kavanaugh, D.J., says:

We will not take full possession of our lives until we learn to give thanks for them. We don’t really own our legs or eyes, our hands and skin unless we’re daily grateful; we don’t really live with our loved ones unless we foster an appreciative, almost contemplative sensitivity to their presence. It is only the loss of them—or the threat of it—that shakes us into an awareness of their manifold grace.…

Gratitude not only empowers the receiver of the gift; it confirms the giver. “You really believe I love you,” the giver says in the heart. It is glorious when someone thanks you.

Might God be more interested in our gratitude than anything else? Was the primal sin ingratitude?

Does it sound like Jesus is commissioning the cured leper? “Stand up and go.” Aren’t those the sounds of discipleship? He has been made confident of God’s love for him, confident enough to get up and go to live that love in the world. Jesus also says these words to us today. We are forgiven our sins at the Eucharist. Gift is given and gratefully received. Now he sends us back to where we live. “Stand up and go.” We, like the leper, “realize” what has been done for us and we go.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

Stand up and go, your faith has saved you

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

• When I am thanked for something I have done for someone else how does it make me feel?
  Does it validate somehow the efforts I have made?
  Does it make me more likely to help out another in the future?
  What about God’s feelings?
• All the lepers recognized their need and asked for help. Do I recognize my needs honestly?
  Am I willing to ask for someone else’s help?
  If not, what keeps be back from doing so?
• Have I ever asked for help and been refused?
  Did this make me unwilling to risk exposing my vulnerability exposing myself to the disappointment of another refusal?
• Do I say please and thank you in my everyday exchanges with family and with those I meet each day?
  Do I do so because I was taught that this was good manners?
  Do I do so because I am aware that gratitude is a proper emotion for a good and fruitful life?
• Have I sometimes been distracted or just missed the point of another’s kindness or service to me?
  Have I often taken for granted those who have helped me in some way?
• Does entitlement (They are only doing their job; they are supposed to help me) somehow impede the feeling of gratitude?
• Does my sense of entitlement make me irritable when others have asked me to help them in some way?
• Do I expect a reward from others for doing what I should be doing?
  Do I expect a reward from God for doing what I should be doing?
• When I pray, is my first focus on all the help I need or others need?
  When I pray, how often do I say thank you, and do I really mean it, or am I putting on my good manners to win God’s approval?
• How often do I focus on some everyday things I am grateful for?
  How often do I focus on everyday issues that do not go my way?
• How long does gratitude last?
• What is the opposite of gratitude?
  How hard is it to be complaining and grateful in the same moment?
  What are some ways to cultivate a habit of honest, not forced, gratitude?
• What, for you is the difference between curing and healing?
  Can someone be cured of an illness, and yet not be healed?
  Can someone be healed and not be cured?
• What do you think, was the faith of the 10th leper?
  What do you think he might have done with his life after Jesus said “Stand up and go?”
• Have I ever allowed my gratitude for what I have been given to lead me to a new relationship with God?
• Jesus is a healer in this story in several ways: He healed people physically, but he also healed relationships and restored these people back to their community. Do I see my religion as one of healing or as one of separating out those who do not belong for one reason or another?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/ Imagination:

I imagine that I am one of the lepers who did not return to thank the person who helped me be cured. Why did I not turn back to thank him? Was it because I was following his instructions to the letter, and being a superstitious and fearful person, did not want to do anything to jeopardize my recovery? Was it because I simply forgot to do so in the joy and excitement of being cured? Was it because I sort of thought that he was just doing his preacher job—performing for the crowds who followed him? Was it because I was still angry that I had suffered from this illness in the first place, and felt I owed no one anything? In the days that followed, after I was reunited with my family and had some time to process the momentous events of that day, did I wonder what ever happened to that man? Did my illness and subsequent recovery make me more understanding of those who have fallen on hard times and more eager to help them? How is gratitude not always in the forefront of people’s minds, especially mine? Has resentment and disappointment blocked it out? Has anger and grief blocked it out? What small habits of gratitude can I cultivate in order to make myself a happier person and in order to thank my God for all he has done for me?

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Memory:

I will extol you, LORD, for you have raised me up, and have not let my enemies rejoice over me. O LORD my God, I cried to you for help, and you have healed me. O LORD, you have lifted up my soul from the grave, restored me to life from those who sink into the pit. Sing psalms to the LORD, you faithful ones; give thanks to his holy name. His anger lasts a moment; his favor all through life. At night come tears, but dawn brings joy. I said to myself in my good fortune: “I shall never be shaken.” O LORD, your favor had set me like a mountain stronghold. Then you hid your face, and I was put to confusion. To you, O LORD, I cried, to my God I appealed for mercy: “What profit is my lifeblood, my going to the grave? Can dust give you thanks, or proclaim your faithfulness?” Hear, O LORD, and have mercy on me; be my helper, O LORD. You have changed my mourning into dancing, removed my sackcloth and girded me with joy. So my soul sings psalms to you, and will not be silent. O LORD my God, I will thank you forever.

Recall a painful experience in your life. Let the memories of the event wash over you. How did you deal with the pain? Did you turn to others? Did you pursue mindless pleasure or busy yourself with tasks and obligations in an attempt to ignore how you were feeling? Did you try to buy your way out of unhappiness with what we call “retail therapy”? did you turn to God? What eventually caused the pain to recede and a sort of contentment take its place? When you returned to a place of peace and calmness, did you reflect on what learned from that experience? When you returned to a place of peace and calmness, did you thank God? Did you understand that God was there in all of your pain and recovery? Share with the Lord now your feelings about that event and write your own prayer of thanksgiving.

Poetic Reflection:

This poem, by Mary Oliver (from Thirst), written just after the death of her partner of many years, captures how one sometimes struggles to recover a sense of gratitude in the midst of grief:

"Thirst"

Another morning and I wake with thirst for the goodness I do not have. I walk out to the pond and all the way God has given us such beautiful lessons. Oh Lord, I was never a quick scholar but sulked and hunched over my books past the hour and the bell; grant me, in your mercy, a little more time. Love for the earth and love for you are having such a long conversation in my heart. Who knows what will finally happen or where I will be sent, yet already I have given a great many things away, expecting to be told to pack nothing, except the prayers which, with this thirst, I am slowly learning.

Closing Prayer

I thank you Lord, for my life. I thank you for all the ways in which you have blessed me. I thank you for all those in my life who have been there for me, supporting me, loving me, even when I was unaware of it. Keep them safe. Lord, I thank you for the glorious world you have created—oceans and mountains, rivers and hills, all the gentle creatures of the forest and the fierce wild beasts who roam the savannas. Help me to show my gratitude for your gift of Mother Earth and all who dwell in it. Keep me ever mindful of the gift of your love and grace, now and forever.