Weekly Reflections

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12th Sunday in Ordinary Time, June 23, 2024

Don’t be afraid; God is with you

Gospel: Mark 4: 35–41
Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?

Don’t be afraid; God is with you

Mark 4:35–41

On that day, as evening drew on, he said to them, “Let us cross to the other side.” Leaving the crowd, they took him with them in the boat just as he was. And other boats were with him.

A violent squall came up and waves were breaking over the boat, so that it was already filling up. Jesus was in the stern, asleep on a cushion. They woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” He woke up, rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Quiet! Be still!” The wind ceased and there was great calm.

Then he asked them, “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?” They were filled with great awe and said to one another, “Who then is this whom even wind and sea obey?”

Music Meditations

Opening Prayer

From Sacred Space:

Lord, you had the gift of sleeping in any situation. You slept while the waves were beating and almost swamping the boat… And when you awoke you brought calm. To voyage with you is to voyage in in peace even in a storm.

Help me to remember that you are always with me, even when I don’t know it… Help me to trust in your presence and your care for others. [Take a moment to offer prayer for a person or people in particular need of God’s care.]

Companions for the Journey

By James Boyce, Professor Emeritus of New Testament and Greek, Luther Seminary St. Paul, MN:

“On that day.” The phrase is so brief the reader could almost ignore it.

Actually, this short transition is vastly important for setting the stage for this familiar story of the stilling of the storm. In the order of the original Greek, the text would read “and he continued to speak to them on that day…” The important effect is to remind us that this story comes right on the heels of all of Jesus’ special teaching to his disciples on the nature of the kingdom—on his characterization of that kingdom as couched in hiddenness and secrecy, and of its requiring a special gift of hearing to comprehend. So it should not surprise us if the journey of discipleship, and the course of our journeys in this Pentecost season should at times be fraught with unexpected dangers or risks.

Many readers have called attention to the way in which this story of the stilling of the storm can be read on several levels. On one level it shows Jesus power in a miracle that joins all the miracles of healing in Mark’s opening chapters. On another level it might serve as a parable of discipleship. We begin with a call or invitation that mirrors Jesus’ call of his first disciples to follow him (Mark 1:16-20)—“Let us go across to the other side”—a command to which his disciples obediently respond, significantly in the language of the story “taking him along with them in the boat” (vv. 35-36). At this point it is not difficult to imagine the scene as recalling the ark adrift on the chaos of the sea, but now presenting a band of followers under the protection of God’s Messiah, “safe and secure from all alarms.”

But events change suddenly. Out of the blue, so to speak, with no textual transition we read: “And there happens! A great windstorm and the waves began to beat against the boat so that the boat was already filling with water.” So much for implied safety of the boat.

Meanwhile “he is in the stern (the place where perhaps he should be steering?) sleeping away peacefully on a pillow! (taking his leisure oblivious to the predicament). And “they” (they are not at this point referred to as disciples) awake him and shout, “Teacher (not Master, or Messiah, or “Lord,” as in Matthew 8:25) do you not care that we are perishing?”

Their cry is the ultimate cry of fear, of doubt and abandonment, repeated often in the stories of God’s people, as for example in the psalms. Where is God in the midst of my distress? Has God abandoned his people? It is a cry repeated in so many ways in the midst of the terrors and distresses of our world today. If God is so great and powerful a creator, if God really cares about this world, then why do events in the world and in my life go so badly. The ready response: either God has no power, or God does not care for us or the creation. This is an honest appraisal of the situation in the story, and a parable of the situation of all of us when cast adrift in the storms of the world without God’s presence and care. The cry amounts to a prayer for deliverance. And it is immediately and directly answered. Jesus does not chastise or reason with their fears. He does not seek to correct their poor theology or remind them of the whole tradition of God’s deliverance and care for the people of Israel. Instead he immediately “woke up” (the word is actually “arose” and may here be a telling and parabolic clue to the end of this story?) and rebuked the winds forcefully with his double command: “Be silent! Be still!” The response of the winds is immediate. The wind ceased and there arose a “great calm” (the description of this “great calm” exactly matches and counters the “great storm” which has begun the predicament (vv. 37, 39).

But now that the rescue is accomplished and the sea is calm, there is time for some needed disciple instruction. Like with the parables that have gone before, now Jesus moves to “interpret” this yet one more “parable” for disciples whose capacities are weak without the gift of their master’s presence and care. The Lord’s care has already been demonstrated. Of this there is no need for greater elaboration at this point. The issue is that of “fear.” In Jesus’ question “Have you yet no faith,” the disciples in the story, and we as its hearers today, are called to recognition between two vastly different worlds that we might inhabit. In these two words we are called to see the gulf between two vastly different worlds that face those who are called to acknowledge the kingdom of God, the presence and rule of God in our midst. One can continue to live in the world of fear and chaos, seeing oneself orphaned or alone without the power of God, living in a world controlled by the power of Satan or the demonic. Or one can be open to hearing the message and promise of this Jesus in whom we are told that the kingdom of God has come into our midst and now offers a whole new future for our world and for our lives.

The line between these two worlds is thin and risky. But in between them stands the gift and power of the good news of God’s Messiah, Jesus.

Further reflection:

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?

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

  • Have I ever, like the disciples, left one place where everybody looks and thinks like me to a place which is, metaphorically speaking, “across to the other side—foreign”?
    Did it make me uncomfortable or afraid?
    How did I handle it?
  • Have I ever been invited to “cross to the other side”, to take a risk?
    Did I accept or decline the invitation?
  • Do I think that following Jesus will guarantee me a storm-free life?
    Am I willing to follow Jesus only until the going gets rough?
  • Has there ever been a time when I asked for God’s help, and God seemed to be sleeping?
  • How did this event test the faith of the disciples?
    Did they “pass” or “fail”?
    Did Jesus give up on them?
  • How do difficult, uncertain or treacherous times test my faith?
  • Does my fear of certain things make me a “bad” disciple?
  • What is the intersection for me between faith and fear?
  • What are some of the issues in our country and our world that seem particularly dangerous today (race equality, immigration, Israel, voting issues, the continuing pandemic in the rest of the world, for example)?
  • What have been some treacherous seas I have experienced in my life or am experiencing now?
    Where was there chaos?
    Did I realize that Jesus was in “the boat” with me?
  • What does the boat called “my religion” feel like right now?
    Are there any waves lapping at the hull?
  • Have I invited Jesus to speak words of courage and support to me personally?
  • One way we have usually interpreted the term faith is “belief”, usually in a set of theological principles. However, the term faith in this story can best be translated as “trust”, and that “belief” then is seen as utter dependence on and reliance on the goodness of the God who loves us.
    How do I think of the word “faith”?
    Do I trust God? Jesus?
    What does that trust mean to me?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

Ann Lamott, in Hallelujah Anyway, wrote:

Being alive here on earth has always been a mixed grill at best, lovely, hard, and confusing. Good and bad things happen to good and bad people. That’s not much of a system: a better one would be silverware drawer of joy, sorrows, doldrums, madness, ease. But no, Eden explodes and we enter a dangerous, terrifying world, the same place where goodness, love and kind intelligence lift us so often. The world has an awful beauty. This is a chaotic place, humanity is a chaotic place, and I am a chaotic place…In the Christian tradition, we say that Christ continues to be crucified, in tsunamis, sick children, political prisoners, and that we must respond. This is what I believe, so I show up and get water for people, real people, which is to say, annoying people. Mother Teresa cradling strangers at dawn is very romantic, but in life, there is also your thirsty bigoted father, your lying sister the whole human race, living and dying and rising with Christ.

How do I think Jesus viewed his companions in the boat screaming at him in a panic?
How do I see the face of Jesus in the face of those who whine and complain, when in my estimation, they have nothing to whine and complain about?
Do I think that because I am deeply spiritual, I should somehow be rewarded with a blissful, peaceful and happy existence?
When I say I believe in God, what do I mean?
How do I see the goodness of God in the midst of my messy and imperfect life?

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

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

I take my place in Jesus’ boat and let myself be drawn into the whole experience on the sea (lake) that day. Everyone knows what a tricky and dangerous body of water this is, with sudden deadly storms that have killed many fishermen. How do I feel when the rain comes down in sheets and the wind howls, whipping up the waves which pour into the boat? Am I afraid of sinking? What goes through my head as I turn to Jesus in utter panic and see he is asleep—ASLEEP!—in the stern of the boat? What is my emotional state at this moment? What do I say to him as I try to wake him up? Am I terrified because he seems so unresponsive? When he does wake up and authoritatively quiets the storm, do I feel foolish or angry because he is chiding me for being afraid in the first place? Does this experience make me look at Jesus in a new light? Will I have confidence in him in the future? Do I truly believe in His love and care? In God’s?

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

Jesus has left us, and it is up to us, his disciples, to navigate the treacherous waters of our country’s and the world’s needs and problems. Sometimes our very Church seems like a frail barque, capable of capsizing. What are we to do? While it may seem overwhelming, what we are called to do, is to navigate the waters we call life on this planet. And from this story, we learn that Jesus has confidence in our ability to manage those challenges. Jesus is no longer physically around to jump in and rescue us and our world; we have to do it ourselves. Think of one little corner of your world where there is pain and anger, sorrow and uncertainty. Think of those in your little corner of the universe as fellow travelers on the boat with you. What concrete thing can you do to make their situation better, or at least tolerable? To whom in your life should you bring a drink of water, including yourself? Instead of being defeated by trying to act globally or make others do so, do ONE THING, one small thing, that stops the boat from rocking for someone, that calms the waters of his or her life.

Poetic Reflection:

Much of Denise Levertov’s poetry is religious in nature. In this poem, we see her trust in the love and care of the Almighty:

“The Avowal”

As swimmers dare
to lie face to the sky
and water bears them;
as hawks rest upon air
and air sustains them,
so would I learn to attain
freefall, and float
into Creator Spirit’s deep embrace,
knowing no effort earns
that all-surrounding grace.

Poetic Reflection:

Wendell Berry, a farmer, poet and former Stanford Stegner Fellow, finds nature to be a refuge from the anxieties and strife of everyday life:

“The Peace of Wild Things”

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the woodrake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

—Wendell Berry from Collected Poems

Closing Prayer

Lord, I need to hear your voice commanding me to calm down, to be still, saying “Peace, I am with you always.” Help me to remember the times you held me up in the midst of one of life’s many storms… Help me to wait in faithful confidence for your comforting and sustaining presence.

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Commentary on 12th Sunday (B)

When I first went on the missions I had fond imaginings of trekking up through the jungle like the last of the Mohicans, so I felt a bit disappointed that it turned out just to be a flight in a small plane. But, if I had wanted a test of courage, I don’t think I could have chosen better.

This reflection comes from Father Paul O’Reilly, S.J., a doctor and a Jesuit priest who currently works with the homeless in London:

Year B: 12th Sunday of Ordinary Time

“Why are you so frightened? How is it that you have no faith?”

When I first went on the missions I had fond imaginings of trekking up 
through the jungle like the last of the Mohicans, so I felt a bit 
disappointed that it turned out just to be a flight in a small plane. 
But, if I had wanted a test of courage, I don’t think I could have 
chosen better. It turned out to be an ‘Islander’ – a twin engined 
propeller-driven job which really should have retired at the same time 
as Biggles. From the inside, it bore a disturbing resemblance to the 
Mini Minor on which I learned to drive. Suddenly I discovered that a few 
hundred adolescent butterflies were holding a ‘rave’ inside my stomach. 
And the moment when the pilot turned round and cheerily explained that 
our take-off might be “a bit twisty” as he would have to steer around 
the potholes on the runway seemed to coincide with the time when the 
butterflies started handing round the Ecstasy.

Nevertheless, we somehow wobbled up into the air and flew hesitantly off 
in the general direction of the Venezuelan border. >From 6,000 feet, the 
view was magnificent: all around us thirty thousand square miles of the 
world’s greatest unspoiled rain-forest stretched away in all directions. 
We flew over the vast expanse of the mighty Demerara and Essequibo 
rivers. And I’m sure I would have thoroughly enjoyed it all, had the 
view not been slightly obscured by the flapping of the upper part of the 
engine cover, from which a couple of screws had fallen off. I was also a 
little distracted when the pilot, having got us up to level flight, 
looked around him, decided that everything was satisfactory, sat back, 
took his hands off the controls, lifted his feet from the pedals and 
busied himself with a crossword. For all I know they do exactly the same 
on a British Airways 747, but at least there you can’t see the joystick 
waggling about of its own volition.

Suddenly - and for the rest of the flight - I was terrified at the 
thought of the plane being out of control and spiralling down to an 
interesting but brief explosion in the rain forest. Of course, that 
never happened - the plane carried on serenely in level flight until we 
got to our destination. And I am sure that there was never any real 
danger at all. But, even knowing that in my head and trying to tell it 
to myself, didn’t actually make it feel any better.

And even after three years of flying regularly a couple of times a week 
in our small plane, I still couldn’t entirely get rid of it. I still 
felt just a little bit nervous getting into the plane. The pilots 
thought it was hilarious and (I am convinced) did extra aerobatics just 
to wind me up. But I still kept hearing the words of the old Amerindian 
man who preferred to go down to the coast by trail, rather than by plane:

As he said: “If the truck breaks down, then where you is, is where you is.
If the plane breaks down, then where you is, is where you ain’t!”

But in the Gospel, the fears of the disciples are not the fears of 
people who haven’t done this before. These are experienced fishermen who 
know exactly what a storm is and who know that this is a bad one. The 
fears that can beat us do not come from a lack of knowledge or a lack of 
experience. They come from a lack of faith. It is by Faith that we can 
trust – whether or not our feared disaster happens – the boat sinks; the 
plane falls out of the sky; or whatever is our personal dread that wakes 
us up in a cold sweat at 2 in the morning. Whatever it is, the answer is 
not: “oh don’t worry about it, it’s not going to happen.” It just very 
well might.

Faith is the ability to know – not just in the head, but in the heart – 
that even if the very worst does happen, Jesus is still with me in the 
boat and He loves me and He saves me.

One of the pilots once gave me a card which said: “Jesus – ain’t nothing 
going to happen today that you and me can’t handle together.” - Which 
might sound a bit twee, but when he gave it to me, he also said: “Every 
pilot knows that he can get it wrong and fly into a mountain. Well, if I 
do that, at least I can know I was doing something worthwhile at the time.”

Let us pray that, whatever fears, risks and dangers we encounter in 
living out our own missions in Life, we may know and trust that God goes 
with us into all of them. And that, if it does all go horribly wrong, 
that at least we were doing something worthwhile at the time.

Grant us Lord that freed from fear and saved from the hands of our foes, 
we may serve you in holiness and justice all the days of our life in 
your presence.

Let us profess our Faith in Christ who calms all the fears and 
storms in our lives.

Paul O'Reilly, SJ <fatbaldnproud@opalityone.net>

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11th Sunday in Ordinary Time, June 16, 2024

What nature teaches us about the kingdom of God, and God’s care for us

Gospel: Mark 4: 26–34
This is how it is with the Kingdom of God

What nature teaches us about the kingdom of God, and God’s care for us

Mark 4:26–34

The Parable of the Growing Seed

He also said, “This is what the kingdom of God is like. A man scatters seed on the ground. Night and day, whether he sleeps or gets up, the seed sprouts and grows, though he does not know how. All by itself the soil produces grain—first the stalk, then the head, then the full kernel in the head. As soon as the grain is ripe, he puts the sickle to it, because the harvest has come.”

The Parable of the Mustard Seed

Again he said, “What shall we say the kingdom of God is like, or what parable shall we use to describe it? It is like a mustard seed, which is the smallest of all seeds on earth. Yet when planted, it grows and becomes the largest of all garden plants, with such big branches that the birds can perch in its shade.”

With many similar parables Jesus spoke the word to them, as much as they could understand. He did not say anything to them without using a parable. But when he was alone with his own disciples, he explained everything.

Music Meditations

Opening Prayer

Lord, let me never imagine that I am the architect, the builder of your kingdom. Let it be enough for me to say: “Your kingdom come, Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” What of mine can I contribute to your vision, Jesus?

Companions for the Journey

We have left the Easter cycle, with its narratives about Jesus’ last days and his resurrection; we are going back and picking up the story of Jesus preaching, teaching and healing throughout the land of Israel, beginning in Chapter 4. This is called Ordinary Time. During these narratives, Jesus often uses parables, like the ones we listen to this week, to explain how the Kingdom of God works.

From “Living Space”, a service of the Irish Jesuits:

Here we have the two last parables told by Mark in this part of his gospel. They are both images of the Kingdom of God, of God’s truth and love spreading among people all over the world. They are both taken from the world of agriculture, a world that would have been very familiar to Jesus’ listeners.

  • In the first, God’s work is compared to a farmer planting seed. As in the parable of the sower, the seed is the Kingdom. Night and day the process of growth continues without any human intervention. Whether the farmer is awake or asleep the process of growth continues. The seed sprouts and grows and he does not know how. The outcome is certain. Once the seed is ripe, it is for the farmer to bring in the harvest. And that is our task: to bring in the harvest which has been planted in the hearts of people. In the words of the other parables, to throw the light which helps people see the truth and love of God already in their deepest being.
  • In the second parable the Kingdom is compared to a mustard seed. Although one of the tiniest of seeds, it grows into a sizeable shrub in which even birds can build their nests.
  • Both of these parables are words of encouragement to a struggling Church, living in small, scattered communities and surrounded by hostile elements ready to destroy it. How amazed would the Christians of those days be if they could see how the seed has grown and spread to parts of the world of whose very existence they were totally unaware. We today still need to have their trust and confidence in the power of the Kingdom to survive and spread.
  • Mark says that Jesus spoke many parables, in fact, he only spoke in parables. But the full meaning of his teaching was explained to his inner circles of disciples. Those staying “outside” were not ready to take in the message. They are the ones who were not “hearing”, as Jesus told his disciples to do. How sensitive is my hearing?

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

This is how it is with the Kingdom of God

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

Do I have enough trust that God will be there to make my life flourish? In what ways can I see God present and acting in my life and the lives of those I care about? Where, exactly, do I look for God's Kingdom? In what aspects of my life or in the lives of those around me do I see God's reign coming to fruition? In what areas is God's reign absent? What personal qualities must I cultivate in order to plant for the future? (hope, optimism, patience, preparedness, for example) Has there been anything in my life that has suddenly blossomed from very small beginnings? Is there a feeling/conviction/desire that I ignored (buried underground) and forgot about, but which resurfaced later? Has there ever been someone in my life who is no longer near, but whose influence I still feel? What personal growth have I seen that surprises me and seems to be the result of a free gift from God? … the reign of God is what happens. It is not any one thing that happens. It is the fact of God's entering our lives at any moment and shifting things around, and our consenting to the break-in. —Thomas Keating, "The Mystery of Christ: The Liturgy As Spiritual Experience" What are some of the surprising ways God has acted in my life? By virtue of our baptism, you and I are also the planters of the seeds of the kingdom. In what ways have I, by my living out my mission as a child of God, mirrored the truth of The Kingdom for others? What is more important, knowledge or courage? Has my message always been perfect? Have I let my failures discourage me? Has my message ever been rejected? Have I let rejection discourage me? What role does prayer play in the dissemination of my message? Do I realize that God is behind every attempt I make to preach The Kingdom?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

From “Sacred Space” a service of the Irish Jesuits:

Simple things we say or do can have a big influence. One person can affect many, even without knowing it. The kingdom of God grows of its own impetus in the world, and nobody can stop it, like good seed growing underground. God is the God of here, there and everywhere. Seeds may sprout anywhere in the field, and the kingdom can find its way into the lives of individuals and communities in ways that may be surprising. The mustard seed becomes a tree for all; the kingdom of God is for every man, woman and child. Have you ever experienced something of the kingdom of God – of love and peace, prayer and faith, justice and hope – when you didn’t recognize it? Let that fill your mind and heart with gratitude as you pray.

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

I imagine that I am there with the crowds by the lake shore, and I see Jesus preaching from a boat at the lakeside. What does he look like, this mesmerizing preacher? What do his words evoke in me as he draws my attention to the trees and to the cornfields nearby? As he reminds me that all these marvelous trees and bounteous harvests were grown from little seeds, he points out that this is the way the kingdom of God grows as well. In my life, what events have been the seeds of my growth and development? Are those little seeds coming to fruition in me? Do I recognize the hand of God in my life? Where have been the moments of joy, of peace, of pardon and mercy that grew from very small and tentative beginnings to create the me that I am now? Working with this certainty, how am I creating God’s kingdom in the world I inhabit right now?

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

Read these verses from Psalm 92, reflecting on all the ways God has nurtured you, even when you did not realize it. Then compose your own prayer of thanksgiving for all that God has planted in your life. Use your memories, and be specific.

It is good to give thanks to the Lord,
to sing praises to your name, O Most High;
to declare your steadfast love in the morning,
and your faithfulness by night,
to the music of the lute and the harp,
to the melody of the lyre.
For you, O Lord, have made me glad by your work;
at the works of your hands I sing for joy.
How great are your works, O Lord!
Your thoughts are very deep!

The righteous flourish like the palm tree,
and grow like a cedar in Lebanon.
They are planted in the house of the Lord;
they flourish in the courts of our God.
In old age they still produce fruit;
they are always green and full of sap,
showing that the Lord is upright;
he is my rock, in whom there is no wrong.

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

Here are some concrete ways to live out the message of this gospel:

  1. Think of someone who planted seeds of good things in your life: knowledge, love of music or sports, people skills; or think of someone who quietly nurtured your talents and allowed them to grow. Have you thanked him or her? Do so.
  2. There is a message in the second parable about welcoming all who need refuge in the branches of the mustard seed—this in a culture known for its exclusivity. Where in our lives do people need comfort and shelter? What can I do to provide it?
Poetic Reflection:

This poem by Denise Levertov, late of the Stanford English Department, is a wonderful theological and spiritual reflection on today’s gospel:

Who ever saw the mustard-plant,
wayside weed or tended crop,
grow tall as a shrub, let alone a tree, a treeful
of shade and nests and songs?
Acres of yellow,
not a bird of the air in sight.

No. He who knew
the west wind brings
the rain, the south wind
thunder, who walked the field-paths
running His hand along wheatstems to glean
those intimate milky kernels, good
to break on the tongue,
was talking of miracle, the seed
within us, so small
we take it for worthless, a mustard-seed, dust,
nothing.
Glib generations mistake
the metaphor, not looking at fields and trees,
not noticing paradox. Mountains
remain unmoved.

Faith is rare, He must have been saying,
prodigious, unique –
one infinitesimal grain divided
like loaves and fishes,

as if from a mustard-seed
a great shade-tree grew. That rare,
that strange: the kingdom
a tree. The soul
a bird. A great concourse of birds
at home there, wings among yellow flowers.

The waiting
kingdom of faith, the seed
waiting to be sown.

Poetic Reflection:

In this lovely poem, Mary Oliver looks at the beauty of God’s creation and her response to it:

“Messenger”

My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird—
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still half-perfect? Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,

which is mostly standing still and learning to be
astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,

which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
that we live forever.

Closing Prayer

Lord, perhaps my task is mainly to sow seeds and trust that they will grow at their own rhythms and come to harvest in your own good time. Let me sow with love, let me wait in patience and let me reap in joy what you have wrought in my life and in the lives of others.

[Take time to think of whom, or what, in particular, you wish to give thanks for today.]

Thank you, Jesus.

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10th Sunday in Ordinary Time, June 9, 2024

Whoever does the will of God is brother or sister to Jesus

Gospel: Mark 3: 20–35
Whoever does the will of the Father is my mother, sister, brother.

Whoever does the will of God is brother or sister to Jesus

Mark 3: 20–35

Then Jesus entered a house, and again a crowd gathered, so that he and his disciples were not even able to eat. When his family heard about this, they went to take charge of him, for they said, “He is out of his mind.” And the teachers of the law who came down from Jerusalem said, “He is possessed by Beelzebul! By the prince of demons he is driving out demons.” So Jesus called them over to him and began to speak to them in parables: “How can Satan drive out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. If a house is divided against itself, that house cannot stand. And if Satan opposes himself and is divided, he cannot stand; his end has come. In fact, no one can enter a strong man’s house without first tying him up. Then he can plunder the strong man’s house. Truly I tell you, people can be forgiven all their sins and every slander they utter, but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will never be forgiven; they are guilty of an eternal sin.” He said this because they were saying, “He has an impure spirit.” Then Jesus’ mother and brothers arrived. Standing outside, they sent someone in to call him. A crowd was sitting around him, and they told him, “Your mother and brothers are outside looking for you.” “Who are my mother and my brothers?” he asked. Then he looked at those seated in a circle around him and said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.”

Music Meditations

Opening Prayer

Lord, help me to do what it takes to be included in the family of Jesus. Help me to welcome others into that family, as Jesus would. Help me to discern your will for the world and for me personally. Give me grace, insight and courage.

Companions for the Journey

Commentary from an unknown source: The King James Version totally removes Jesus' family from this part of the scene, saying: "And when his friends heard of it, they went out to lay hold on him: for they said, 'He is beside himself.'" The New Revised Standard Version puts the disparagement of Jesus in the mouths of others, saying: "When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, 'He has gone out of his mind.'" The authors of the Gospels according to Matthew and Luke, whose books were produced after the Gospel according to Mark and who included scenes similar to Mark 3:20-35, omitted from their narratives any suggestion that Jesus' family thought he was crazy. The story told in the wider context, Mark 3:20-35, sets Jesus' family in comparison to influential religious leaders (legal scholars based in Jerusalem). Both groups express an inability to understand who Jesus really is. The religious authorities conclude he is possessed by Satan. His family assumes he has lost his sanity. In an ancient setting, these diagnoses were roughly equivalent to each other. The scene underscores how those who presumably were in great positions to make sense of Jesus still were not immediately able to see him as God's agent. As Jesus announced and re-inaugurated God's intentions for human flourishing, many could not overcome the disorienting character of his message. Even close relatives and religious insiders were bewildered by what he said, which threatened to disrupt so many aspects of human society. Maybe Jesus' relatives were dismayed that the first-born son wasn't supporting his family but was gallivanting around Galilee as a self-appointed prophet. Or maybe they wanted him, as Messiah, to have bigger and better ambitions, such as promising a revolution instead of preaching and healing the sick. The Gospel of Mark does not explain; it merely sets up a showdown of sorts when the family arrives to seize Jesus. When the crowd says that his family is summoning him from outside the crowded building, Jesus answers with a shocking statement: "Who is my mother? Who are my brothers? ... Look, here [these people seated around me] are my mother and my brothers. Whoever does God's will is my brother, sister and mother." It's good news for those inside the house, who seek to identify with Jesus and his message. It's also good news for Mark's earliest readers who found themselves estranged from their biological families (compare Mark 10:28-30). Bad news, however, for his relatives on the outside, and for others with high regard for customary notions of honor and social stability. Jesus redefines the criteria for who constitutes his true family. This goes beyond striking back at his mother and brothers' opinion about his sanity. More foundationally, Jesus makes a claim about what it might mean to belong to other people. He makes a claim about identity. Families, or "households," were the primary social and economic units of first-century society. Jesus speaks to deeply embedded cultural assumptions when he determines his true family not by blood relations or kinship ties but by doing the will of God. No wonder some people are bent on killing him in this book.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

Whoever does the will of the Father is my mother, sister, brother.

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

Has anyone in my family questioned my decisions to the point where it made me uncomfortable or caused a rift? What are the temptations we experience from forces averse to God’s plan for the full flourishing of all creation? (Barbara Reid, O.P.) Have I ever made a choice that my family or friends did not agree with or approve of? How did I handle that? What do I do when I think a friend or family member is really making a bad choice in life? When I have tried to listen to the voice of God, how often has that voice only been one of negativity and condemnation? Do I define "vocation" as only ministry of some sort? What else could be a "vocation"? Is my family those to whom I am related by blood, or others whom I have chosen to be family for me? What are the positive and negative aspects of each choice? Do I have to choose one or the other, or can I include both? We are shocked a bit by Jesus' reaction. However, he did not say that his relatives were not his family; He was making the point that there are non-family members who become Jesus' mother and brothers through doing God's will. Jesus tells us we are his brothers, sister, mother. Do we believe that? When I pray, do I ask God to grant my wishes, or to show me what He wishes for me? Do I think of doing God's will as some sort of cosmic game? When I think of doing God's will, am I choosing what movie to see, what to have for lunch, or where to love, or whom to marry? How specific is God's will for me? What if I make a mistake and choose wrong? The following verses: Then Jesus’ mother and brothers arrived. Standing outside, they sent someone in to call him. A crowd was sitting around him, and they told him, “Your mother and brothers are outside looking for you.” “Who are my mother and my brothers?” he asked. Then he looked at those seated in a circle around him and said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.” very likely circulated as an independent unit before it was incorporated in this gospel. Why would that be? Are there words and actions of Jesus that might be offensive to some people today?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:
Adapted from “First Impressions”, a service of the Southern Dominican Province: Notice the implied popular belief the scribes expressed in their accusation against Jesus. They revealed a belief that evil possesses power and could do impressive acts. They seemed to believe that not all powerful deeds are of God and that these powers are not always well intentioned (“He expels demons with the help of the prince of demons.”). Their thinking is not too far removed from what we experience today: that there are powerful forces that can do horrendous evil in the world. At first glance these powers seem to be doing good for humanity; we call it: “progress” “modern discoveries,” “technology,” etc. But these forces can do harm and we need to ask if they are really advances, and at what price those advances? Who gains and who loses? And where does all this power lead us anyway? To be honest, a lot of people followed Jesus because of the wondrous things he was doing. And to be honest, we seem to be attracted to and in awe of power. Who are those “wonder workers” or those who possess great power in our own society? To what extent has social media amplified that power to influence masses? Can we say all this power comes from God ? Can we say this power comes from the devil? How do we tell the difference?
A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

In Jesus’ discussion of “family”, He went beyond biological kinship:(Whoever does the will of the Father is my mother, sister, brother.) But what about those who have tried and failed to either discern what God wants or to make that commitment completely? Through other stories in the scriptures, we learn that Jesus’ love was not confined to those whom he perceived to know and follow the will of God. His heart, and by extension, God’s heart is big enough to encompass all of us who are imperfect human beings or even abject failures. Consider the rich young man in the gospel who could not bring himself to give away everything and join Jesus. (Jesus looked upon him with love.) Consider Peter and the others who could not keep watch with Him, denied Him or ran away in fear. Many post-resurrection appearances started with Jesus saying: “Peace be with you”, and the charming little barbecue by the lake after a night of fishing certainly gave Peter a second chance ( or third or fourth chance, who knows?). I think of the times I have failed to live up to Jesus’ expectations and rejoice nonetheless in the love Jesus has for me, with all my faults and imperfections. I remind myself that God does not love me because I am good, but that God’s love helps me to be better. So I thank God for the many chances I have been given to listen and to follow, and know his love throught Jesus I writ my own personal prayer of thanksgiving.

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Choosing to do what God wants:
Many of us do not spend much time in contemplation of “the will of God” except as it pertains to big decisions. As a result, we are a little “rusty” in making decisions that align with what we perceive to be God’s will. I pick a decision, large or small, that I am wrestling with, and put it in the context of doing what is good for me and others, and apply some logic and prayer to the process: Here are some standards I can submit my decisions to: (From John Ortberg: What is Gods Will for My Life?) Is this decision congruent with the reality that "it is more blessed to give that to receive"? Is this decision leading me to trust my heavenly Father? Is this decision compatible with my sexual integrity? Will this decision enable me to follow the Golden Rule? Will this decision help me to love my neighbor? Then, end with this prayer from ‘Thomas Merton: MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
Poetic Reflection:

We are all part of Christ’s family. This poem by Ed Ingebretzen, S.J., reminds us that that is what being “church” is all about:

EYES OF CHRIST In hope and in prophecy We are the saints Keeping the word alive. The Spirit of Our Lord Anoints us as holy We who are parents We who are daughters We who are pilgrims Who walk together Along the miles we take to God. The Spirit cares for us And teaches us to care We who are brothers We who are friends We who learn to live And how it is to love We who learn how we shall always Grow to God Because the Spirit cares for us. The Church is our eyes The depth of our vision The reach of our hands Circling the world Let us be for each other The Church A way of seeing In which we are born in hope Let us be for each other Roads to the freedom who is God Let us wear each other’s name As close as our own Brother, siser, friend mother’ Father, priest, consoler For when our hands join Where we shall meet God Our names shall be the same. We are the saints--loved by God Christ’s great desiring And He ours. We are the Church The rock, he bread, The glass, the wine that reveals the Lord; The eyes of Christ Opening into tomorrow Keeping this world alive.

Closing Prayer

Lord, there are those in my family whom I do not always understand. Give me the wisdom to see the goodness and integrity of their honest convictions. Free me from the burden of judgement of others that I am really not required to carry. Help our family, the church, as we do not always see eye to eye. Let us as church try not to judge the convictions and customs of others simply because they are different from what we are used to. Help me to discern your will for my life and for my Church. Then let me rest in your ineffable love and goodness.

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The Body and Blood of Christ, June 2, 2024

Gratitude for all God has done for us and for Jesus’ gift of Himself must lead to action

Gospel: Mark 14: 12–16, 22–26
Take it, this is my body. This is my blood of the new covenant, which will be shed for many

Gratitude for all God has done for us and for Jesus’ gift of Himself must lead to action

Mark 14:12–16, 22–26

On the first day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread, when they sacrificed the Passover lamb, his disciples said to him, “Where do you want us to go and prepare for you to eat the Passover?”

He sent two of his disciples and said to them, “Go into the city and a man will meet you, carrying a jar of water. Follow him. Wherever he enters, say to the master of the house, ‘The Teacher says, “Where is my guest room where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?”’ Then he will show you a large upper room furnished and ready. Make the preparations for us there.”

The disciples then went off, entered the city, and found it just as he had told them; and they prepared the Passover.

While they were eating, he took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and gave it to them, and said, “Take it; this is my body.”

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

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

Music Meditations

Opening Prayer

Lord, what shall we do with the gift you have given us of your very self? How can we learn to “see” you in the breaking of the bread? How can we go beyond wonder and gratitude to an actual living out of your presence in ourselves and in this world? How can we bring the comfort of your real presence to those we meet? [Call to mind particular people who may be especially in need of God’s presence.] Help us to be Christ for others.

Companions for the Journey

From First Impressions 2003, a service of the southern Dominican Province

I don't remember the first time I tasted wine, I was too young. While I can't say when, I can tell you with some surety how it happened, because as I got older, I saw how my younger siblings, cousins, nieces and nephews got their first taste of wine. At a holiday or special meal a parent would take a crusty piece of Italian bread, dip it in his or her own glass of wine and give it to a youngster to suck on and then eat. As we got older, say ten or twelve, we would be given a teaspoon of wine in a whiskey shot glass–our first "glass" of wine. Later, much later, we graduated to an "adult" glass of wine with our meal. I think we kids got to associate the graduations in the amount of wine we were given as signs of our fuller acceptance into the adult circle of the family. The full glass told us we were adults and, as adults, were expected to behave as responsible and full-fledged members of the family.

At this meal today, set initially at the feast of unleavened bread, I think we are like children around the table trying to mature and become full members of our new family—as Jesus' brothers and sisters. We have been eating this bread and, for many years now, drinking from this cup. We are being shaped and formed around the table. We know we still have a long way to go and hope that, little by little, this bread and wine will enable us to change---let go of whatever habits and ways of acting that are not befitting a family member. Happily this meal holds out a promise of completion, for someday we will eat and drink together with our Lord in the fullness of his reign. Before our meal begins today we listen to the gospel and Jesus' words, "this is the blood of the covenant which will be shed for many." In the eucharistic prayer we will hear the words spoken over the cup, "this is the cup of my blood which will be shed for you and for ALL so that sins may be forgiven." "Many"–"all"? Who are these people Jesus has in mind? The Jewish disciples around the table would have understood the "many" to be the Gentiles, those not at the table. The "many" referred to the very people the religious leaders told the Jews to avoid so as to keep their religious purity safe.

How about us, we who are gathered around this table? Who are the "many," the "others," not at our table today? In our comfortable parishes the "many" may be the less financially secure, the poorer dressed, the foreign newcomers whose language, customs and education set them apart from us. In a poor white community the "many" may be those who have just arrived and threaten our jobs; for the black community they may be the Latinos; for Asians they may be their African-American neighbors, etc.

Jesus is not just blessing our parish community with his "real presence" in this eucharist. The meal, if we hear his words, is also a challenge to include the "many"; to make them welcome and a part of our worship, working, and social worlds. On the cross where Jesus poured out his blood, his arms were stretched out to embrace all. As we raise the cup at this eucharist, we ought to look over its rim to see who is here with us and think of those we have avoided, but must now include—the "many." We were also included in Jesus' embrace; we at this eucharist who are asking for forgiveness and inner growth. We also remind ourselves that his loving embrace extended to those who would never think of entering our church building. He bled for the polite and schooled; but also for the loud, boisterous and unkempt; the perfumed, manicured and hairsprayed, but also for the tattooed, tongue-pierced and shaved heads. Mark's gospel invites us to Jesus' vision. Someday he will come and we will drink the "fruit of the vine...in the kingdom of God" with him and one another. Jesus anticipates the "many" who will be one with him there. We have work to do, for eating his body and drinking his cup means his outreaching-vision is becoming ours.

We don't all have to become the same at this meal—how boring that would be! But we do have to be open to God's presence in those gathered around this table. We all eat the same food; we hope it draws us close to the risen Christ and closer to one another. Lord knows we need help! We are a divided community: those favoring quiet and "respect" before, during and after the service; others wanting to "build up the community" by visiting members they only see here at the eucharist; those wanting more social concerns preached; others saying the pulpit is "no place for politics; some want a new church building; others a parochial school. There are political liberals and conservatives, the newly married, recently divorced and the long-time widowed. Some come on a Saturday or Sunday evening to "get mass in," others come at eleven am to hear the choir at the more "traditional mass." And so it goes, we all gather at the table—not always thinking the same theologically, politically, culturally or liturgically. Nevertheless, we hope that eating this meal and drinking the wine will make us one "in Christ." We hope that, as Hebrews says, "the mediator of a new covenant," the one who died to reconcile our alienation and wipe out our sin, will "covenant" us anew with God and each other. In eating the bread and drinking the cup, we hope that we can look beyond our differences and see the body of Christ we already are--- and are becoming. We hope we are growing up, becoming mature Christians, around this table. We come to the meal knowing our personal and communal shortcomings. We want to change and this is the meal that affects the change for which we long. The Word we heard proclaimed has shared a vision and opened our eyes to a not-yet reality, a kingdom coming, but not yet fully arrived. Come, let us eat, for we hunger and thirst for the day when we will drink the cup in the new and complete kingdom.

Today the eucharistic ministers will repeatedly say, "the body of Christ," "the blood of Christ." I have gotten into the habit of looking at the person to whom I am offering the eucharist. I consciously remind myself that each person receiving the eucharist is the body and blood of Christ and is coming to receive his life so as to become even more conformed and shaped into this identity. It is as if we eucharistic ministers are saying, "You are the body of Christ and this food and drink is helping you more and more to become Christ in the world." We used to have a big procession on this feast. Many parishes still do. Whether we have one or not at the beginning of this liturgy, we will have one at the end when each person processes out into the world to be the Body and Blood of Christ. Today we celebrate Christ and we celebrate our true reality as well.

Jude Siciliano, O.P., Promoter of Preaching, Southern Dominican Province, USA

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today's session….

Take it, this is my body. This is my blood of the new covenant, which will be shed for many

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today's reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions which follow:

Reflection Questions:

What are your favorite memories of meals?

Have you ever sat down to eat a meal with people you do not know?

What happened during the meal?

How do your family meals reflect the relationships that exist within the family?

Jesus gathered his disciples around the table to offer himself to them. Who is gathered around the table with me today?

Who are the “many” who are not at the table with me today? (This could be those from whom I am estranged, or it could be those who don’t feel comfortable in the setting I find myself in, or those who mightn’t feel welcome because they are poor or don’t speak the language, or who are not educated enough)

What am I doing to gather others to the table of life?

What are some of the things you associate with blood?

What memories, emotions, experiences come to mind?

What are the things you associate with the word body?

How are they different from your associations with blood?

What does it mean for you, personally, that this feast is the body and blood of Christ?

From Walter Burghardt, S.J.:

Do I marvel in what I see, or in the fact that I see?

There is a saying : “You are what you eat”. If this is so, those of us who partake of Jesus body and blood in the Eucharist PUT ON Christ, BECOME Christ. Do I believe this?

In what ways this week have I done so, or failed to do so?

What does it mean for you that you and God share a bodily identity in Jesus, with all the wonderment, joy and messiness that our humanity encompasses?

Can others see Christ in me?

Are any of the daily sacrifices I make similar to the ones Jesus made?

How does my life reflect the true presence of Christ in the world?

Have I ever had to summon courage to do the right thing?

Was there a cost?

There is a temptation to turn this feast into a theological discussion of “transubstantiation” or the “real presence. If instead, I allow myself to submit to both joy and wonder I maybe the richer for it.

For me, what is wonderful about this feast?

How does this miracle fit into some other wondrous acts of God in history?

In my own life?

Which action of God do I marvel at the most?

What in the text has meaning for me and my relationship to God?

What of God’s desire for me is reflected in this text?

Meditations:

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

Adapted from First Impressions, written by Father Jude Siciliano, O.P.:

Jesus offers his disciples the cup. In the Scriptures the cup is a symbol of suffering and death. For example, after the supper Jesus will go with his disciples to the garden of Gethsemani. In his distress and fear he will pray to Abba, "take this cup away from me" (14:36). But he will accept the cup of suffering before him; he will offer his life for us. When we take the cup and drink from it today we are saying our "Yes" to Jesus' way of life and we are receiving his life so that we can live the "Yes" we are professing.

What might partaking in the "cup" cost me personally? How willing am I to drink from that cup?

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

A celebration of the food of life can lead to reflection on the importance of food (health, education, and shelter as well) … The US Catholic bishops on the Christian response to poverty:

Perhaps the first step that needs to be taken in dealing with poverty is to change our attitudes to the poor.

Everyone has special duties toward the poor; all who have more than they need must come to the aid of the poor.

Seek solutions that enable the poor to help themselves through such means as fairly compensated employment.

The policies we establish as a society must reflect the hierarchy of values in which the needs of the poor take priority over the desires of the rich.

Share the perspectives of those who are suffering.

Which of these suggestions is the most challenging for you to agree with or adopt?

What concrete action can you take this week to bring the care of Christ to those in need?

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

Christ is truly present in the wine and bread after it has become the body and blood of Jesus… Have we ever reflected on the ways that Jesus is truly present at our Sunday banquet?

He is present in the Word. How actively do I really listen as Scriptures are proclaimed?

He is present in the presider. Do I see the priest as a true representative of Jesus at each Mass?

He is present in the gathered community. Do I see in the assembly the presence of Jesus? Do I see myself as the actual presence of Jesus in Mass and in the world?

I offer a prayer of thanksgiving and humility for the privilege of participating in the Eucharistic banquet.

Poetic Reflection:

Sometimes we need to look at the mystery of the body and blood of Christ with our hearts and not with our heads:

“The Vast Ocean Begins Just Outside Our Church: The Eucharist”

Something has happened
To the bread
And the wine.

They have been blessed.
What now?
The body leans forward

To receive the gift
From the priest’s hand,
Then the chalice.

They are something else now
From what they were
Before this began.

I want
To see Jesus,
Maybe in the clouds

Or on the shore,
Just walking,
Beautiful man

And clearly
Someone else
Besides.

On the hard days
I ask myself
If I ever will.

Also there are times
My body whispers to me
That I have.

—Mary Oliver, from Thirst

Poetic Reflection:

This is a wonderful meditation on Eucharist:

"Gather the People"

What return can we make
for all the Lord has done in our lives?
We bring bread, wine, our clay dishes
and our clay feet
to this altar
and we pray that we may here
make a beginning—
that somehow in our days
we can begin to see the promises
the Lord has made us.

The promises do not always
glow with obvious light, or
overwhelm us by their obvious truth.
No matter what anyone says,
it is difficult to understand an invisible God
and belief is not always
the easy way out.

So we gather the people
and we tell the story again
and we break the bread
and in the memory of the one
who saves us,
we eat and drink
and we pray and we believe.

We gather, we pray, we eat.
These things are for human beings.
God has no need of them.
Yet he himself gathered the people,
prayed, broke bread
and gave it to his friends.

And so the invisible God became
visible
and lives with us.

—Ed Ingebretzen, S.J., from Psalms of the Still Country

Closing Prayer

I beg you to keep me in this silence so that I can learn
from it
the word of your peace
and the word of your mercy
and the word of your gentleness to the world:
and that through me your word of peace may perhaps
make itself heard
where it has not been possible for anyone to hear it
For a long time.

—Thomas Merton

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