Commentary on Mark 6:1–6 from “Living Space”

Jesus returns to his home town in the company of his disciples. On the sabbath day, as was his right, he began teaching in the synagogue. His listeners, who all knew him since he was a child, are staggered at the way he speaks. “Where did the man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been granted him and these miracles that are worked through him?” He had no more education than any of his fellow-villagers. But the point is that they do recognize his wisdom and his power to perform miracles. Yet, he is “only” a carpenter, the son of Mary and related to James and Joset and Jude and Simon and with “sisters” as well.

And, because they knew him so well, they could not accept him. They deliberately chose not to see what was happening before their eyes. This, of course, is the irony of the whole situation. They did not know him at all. They were blinded by a superficial familiarity. So Jesus says, “A prophet is only despised in his own country, amonghis own relations, and in his own house.” A saying known in other cultures and an experience all too often repeated in our own day. In comparing himself to the Hebrew prophets who went before him, Jesus foreshadows his ultimate rejection by many of his own people. We have already seen his problems with his own family and now with his townspeople. It is not the end.

The trap of familiarity is one we can all fall into very easily. How many times have we failed to recognize the voice of Jesus speaking to us because the person is someone we meet every day, a person we may not like or despise? But God can and does talk to us through all kinds of people, Catholic or not, relative, friend, colleague, our own children, total stranger, educated, uneducated…

As a result, we are told, Jesus not only did not but “could not” work any miracles there, except for a few sick people who were cured by the laying of hands. But he could not help those who had no faith in him. Jesus works only when we cooperate and open ourselves to him. Mark often says how amazed the people are at Jesus’ teaching. Now it is Jesus’ turn to be amazed at his home town’s lack of faith and trust in him.

13th Sunday in Ordinary Time, June 30, 2024

God’s healing power, or, encountering God in the crosses of our lives

Mark 5:21–43

When Jesus had crossed again [in the boat] to the other side, a large crowd gathered around him, and he stayed close to the sea. One of the synagogue officials, named Jairus, came forward. Seeing him he fell at his feet and pleaded earnestly with him, saying, “My daughter is at the point of death. Please, come lay your hands on her that she may get well and live.”

He went off with him, and a large crowd followed him and pressed upon him. There was a woman afflicted with hemorrhages for twelve years. She had suffered greatly at the hands of many doctors and had spent all that she had. Yet she was not helped but only grew worse. She had heard about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak. She said, “If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured.” Immediately her flow of blood dried up. She felt in her body that she was healed of her affliction.

Jesus, aware at once that power had gone out from him, turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who has touched my clothes?” But his disciples said to him, “You see how the crowd is pressing upon you, and yet you ask, ‘Who touched me?’”

And he looked around to see who had done it. The woman, realizing what had happened to her, approached in fear and trembling. She fell down before Jesus and told him the whole truth. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has saved you. Go in peace and be cured of your affliction.”

While he was still speaking, people from the synagogue official’s house arrived and said, “Your daughter has died; why trouble the teacher any longer?” Disregarding the message that was reported, Jesus said to the synagogue official, “Do not be afraid; just have faith.”

He did not allow anyone to accompany him inside except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James. When they arrived at the house of the synagogue official, he caught sight of a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. So he went in and said to them, “Why this commotion and weeping? The child is not dead but asleep.”

And they ridiculed him.

Then he put them all out. He took along the child’s father and mother and those who were with him and entered the room where the child was. He took the child by the hand and said to her, “Talitha koum,” which means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise!” The girl, a child of twelve, arose immediately and walked around. [At that] they were utterly astounded.

He gave strict orders that no one should know this and said that she should be given something to eat.

Music Meditations

• “Hold Me In Life” (by Huub Oosterhuis and Bernard Huijbers) [YouTube]
• “Healer of My Soul” (John Michael Talbot) [YouTube]
• “Psalm 6 (Heal Me)” (The Psalms Project) [YouTube]
• “Open My Eyes, Lord” (by Jesse Manibusan) [YouTube]
• “Psalm 30 (Mourning Into Dancing)” (The Psalms Project) [YouTube]

Opening Prayer

God, you did not make death, nor do you rejoice in the destruction of the living. You are a healer of all humanity. You fashioned all things that they might have being. This includes me, O Lord. My birth was the Creation of your love, my ongoing being is the Sustaining of your love, and my actions are the very Word of your love. Help me to bring that joy and love to those around me. [Take a moment to think of one or more particular people to whom you wish to bring God’s love.]

Companions for the Journey

From “First Impressions” 2024, a service of the Southern Dominican Province:

In desperate situations, when a loved one is dying, or we are seriously ill, we tend to put aside our usual response, or hesitancy and are willing to try anything that might help. Some people will even go overseas to a shrine like Fatima or Lourdes seeking a cure. That’s expensive but, if a person can afford it, they will try anything. That’s the situation the synagogue official and the woman with the hemorrhage find themselves in our Gospel today.

Mark frequently tells a story within a story. Which is what he does today. He begins to share the story of Jairus, whose daughter is very ill. But he interrupts this narrative with that of a woman suffering from hemorrhage. Both are seeking help from Jesus. So, where can Jesus be found? He is among people in need.

In both stories neither Jairus, nor the woman, have a remedy. The woman had “suffered greatly at the hands of many doctors” and the child was dead when Jesus arrived. The opinion of the onlookers at Jairus’ house was, “Your daughter has died, why trouble the teacher any longer?” Still, the woman and Jairus trust in Jesus. The miracles in the gospel show Jesus has the power to heal and give life: social class, status and influence do not matter, faith does. What attracts Jesus to the woman and Jairus, is the same thing that attracts him to us – our faith.

The place of women in the society at the time seems to have been close to Jesus’ heart. Women were not allowed to approach, or speak to a rabbi. Jesus doesn’t treat women as less, but as full human beings. The woman who was healed touching Jesus’ cloak approached him to, “tell him whole truth.” It was as if she were excusing herself for breaking through the usual borders that separated this healer from the unclean woman. Her blood issue would have rendered her unclean and anyone she touched would also have been declared unclean .She might have wanted to sneak away after her healing, and not make public what she has done. Jesus’ response to her was simple, “Daughter your faith has saved you. Go in peace and be cured of your affliction.” She did not have to go through the rituals that would have declared her clean, free of her legal and ritual defilement. No, she is raised up by Jesus as he addresses her ... “My daughter….” We do not know her name. We do know that faith has saved her and she is a child (“daughter”) of Jesus; with the rest of us, also saved by our faith. What fueled the woman’s faith? What gave her the courage to push through the crowd to get to Jesus and touch his cloak? After all, she was not part of his inner circle, not one of his male followers. The woman was like one of the psalmists who persist in their complaints to God; but don’t give up on God. Hers was the persistent faith of her ancestors -- that faith helped her push aside fear and propriety to reach out to Jesus, her only hope. Was the woman’s faith an encouragement to Jairus, whose daughter’s condition led to her death?

The faith of the two echoes our Wisdom reading. God is not the author of death, nor takes delight in suffering. God was not testing the faith of the woman and Jairus. Rather, Jesus displays God’s will in the miracles: God wants the fullness of life for us.

Jairus was an official from the synagogue. He not only went publicly to ask Jesus’ help, but when he got to Jesus he “fell at his feet and pleaded earnestly.” What a public display by a member of an opposing party! But wouldn’t we also go to great lengths to help someone we love, no matter what others might think? Surely there were other ways Jairus could have attempted to get help for his daughter. He certainly could have afforded the best doctors. But he is desperate and Jesus has been healing people. In fact, in Mark’s gospel the healings flow quickly one after another. “If Jesus could heal others,” Jairus may have reasoned, “maybe he can heal my daughter.”

The story of the woman healed of her hemorrhage, and Jairus, whose daughter was restored to life, shows how God is present in our world in Jesus, responding to suffering, pain and death. Jesus heals, brings back to life and restores relationships. He is present to need, responding with love, empathy and compassion. And more. He shares our pain and burdens and breaking through prejudice and shattering conventions that keep us apart from one another and from society. A person in pain reaches out to him and he affirms their presence and their faith.

Mark’s story addresses how God deals with evil, pain and death. So, the story of the woman and Jairus is also our story. When we are afraid; when we face death, we can feel Jesus’ touch, as the girl felt Jesus’ hand in hers. We need to hear Jesus affirming our faith and raising us up. Listen again to the opening line from our Wisdom reading today: “God did not make death….” Jesus has shown that, in his hands, we are imperishable.

Jesus responds to desperate need with love, empathy and compassion. He shares our pain and our burdens. He boldly shatters prejudice and breaks conventions. He is not afraid to enter the place where death seems to have its way and breaks the bonds of death and suffering.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

Do not be afraid; just 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

• A common theme that runs through Mark is that of being on the inside or on the outside. How does illness make someone actually be on the outside of relationships, and how does it make us sometimes feel like we are on the outside, isolated?
• From Paul Gallagher OFM, in “First Impressions”:
  Has anyone you love dearly ever been close to death?
  How did their illness affect you?
  How did it affect your relationships to others? Your own prayer?
• From Paul Gallagher, OFM, in “First Impressions”
  Have you ever been seriously ill without being able to find relief?
  Have you ever been considered so contagious that you had to be quarantined from others?
  How do these experiences, or their absence in your life, affect how you hear this gospel text?
• In this passage we have an example of power and importance deferring to the needs of a powerless woman. What does this tell me about the priorities of Jesus?
  How is it different from the way the world usually works?
• Did it bother you that Jairus was identified by name, but the woman was only identified by her illness?
  Did you notice that Jairus had support from relatives and others, but the woman was totally alone?
• Of the two incidents in this story, which one moved me the most?
  Did either of them irritate me? Why?
• What is the difference between pity and compassion?
• What is it about the woman’s attitude toward suffering and toward God that we can learn for ourselves about:
  
  1. the role of suffering in our lives?
  2. what choices we have in how we react to the “crosses” we bear?
  3. empathy with and solidarity with those who are in pain of any kind?
  4. forgiveness of ourselves, another, even God?
• From Jude Siciliano, O.P.:
  Who, in our lives, has been the outstretched hand of Jesus for us?
• Do I let my woundedness define me, or am I looking to move on and be healed?
  How does God help in this process?
• Is faith in Jesus a “head-thing” for me, or a “gut-thing”?
  Have I ever entrusted my well-being totally to God in times of distress, sorrow, or even danger?
• Do I think there is enough of Jesus’ healing power to go around, or is it doled out to a few?
• Is there a difference between healing and curing?
  What is the spiritual danger involved in thinking of God as a wonder-worker to cure all of our physical, mental and spiritual illnesses?
• Who was more important to Jesus—Jairus or the woman with the bleeding condition?
  Are there people that we think are more important to Jesus than others, or more important to Jesus than we are?
• Are there people whose voices we tend to ignore because they have a rather insignificant place in our society?
• Have I ever felt like an outsider in my social or church community?
  Have I noticed others who might also feel overlooked or unimportant?
• From Sister Barbara Reid, O.P., PhD, in “America”:
  How are both personal healing and preaching of social justice needed to bring about the reign of God?
• How do religious laws, economic biases or cultural norms keep us from having to deal with “those people”?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

Imagine that you are Jairus, an important official in the synagogue and your twelve year old daughter is gravely ill. She is at death’s door, and no one –no doctors, no rabbis, have been able to help her. Imagine the panic, the feeling of desperation, the sense of urgency you are experiencing as you seek out Jesus as a last resort. You are putting all your trust in this dusty, strange little man. You are begging and pleading for Him to come with you and save your precious child. Can you both get to the house in time to save her? Imagine your relief when Jesus starts to follow you to your house. But wait! Jesus seems to be distracted by some sort of minor disturbance. A woman, unclean in so many ways, seems to have touched his cloak and claimed his attention. Your anxiety increases as he stops to converse with her. “Hurry up, hurry up,” you are silently saying. “This woman is nothing. I am man and a synagogue official. Furthermore, my daughter is dying. Dying! Keep moving, Jesus!” …But no, he is still engaged with her. When you are jiggling from foot to foot in frustration, some people from home arrive to tell you that your daughter has died. You sag to the ground in agony, only to be told by Jesus not to be afraid. How can you not be afraid? Your world has ended. Nevertheless, as Jesus sets off, you accompany Him back to your house at the synagogue. It wrenches your heart to see everyone crying and wailing in grief. They don’t seem to be very welcoming of Jesus, but he persists, telling everyone that the girl is just asleep. So heavy with grief and pain, you and the girl’s mother go into the place where she is lying. You are so full of anguish as you see her so still, so helpless. Dead. You are astounded when this Jesus commands the girl to get up, and she does!! Ever practical, he breaks through our joy and astonishment to tell people to get her something to eat. This man is truly a wonder-worker and a representative of the Lord. What do you say to Jesus in this moment? Now how do you feel about the woman who was cured on the way here?

In my own life, there are ills that need curing, relationships that need healing or even restoring. Do I get frustrated when other’s needs in this life seem to take priority over mine? Do I feel that often I am shoved to the back of the line emotionally? Do I sometimes get frustrated that my needs even seem unimportant to God because I am not getting any answers? Am I willing to wait in patience for Jesus to hear my prayers amidst all the other petitions coming His way? Do I think my problems are more important or more serious than anyone else’s? I pray for understanding and trust as I hope in the goodness of Jesus and wait. And I pray for patience in the face of the neediness around me. I pray for forgiveness for me and by me, for healing for me and by me.

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

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

You are suffering right now—burning with anger at someone who has hurt you, or unable to forgive an old hurt, or you are a bit depressed. Talk with the woman who had been in pain for twelve years. Imaging how isolated she felt, and imagine how hard it was to be shunned by her relatives—her husband and children. She had been alone, so alone, She could hardly remember her own name (certainly no one else did) because she had become a non-entity, a shadow, living on the fringes of life. No one could touch her, hug her, eat in the same room with her, for fear of becoming ritually impure. No one would even go near her because she smelled unclean. But a gesture of strong and unshakeable faith led her to touch the cloak of Jesus and be healed.

In the midst of your own suffering and pain, listen to her telling you to touch Jesus’ cloak. Imagine doing that. This is not magic but a meeting with Jesus and asking for his help: touching God carries its own healing power. Prayer can often feel like touching only the hem of Jesus’ garment, but it is authentic when, like the woman, you tell the Lord ‘the whole truth’. In ways that may surprise you ‘the truth sets you free’ (John 8:32). In prayer today, touch Jesus’ cloak and share with Him all that needs healing in body or in soul. Rest in Him.

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

God hates the sin, but loves the sinner. God hates sickness but loves the sick. God hates death but loves the dying. This story of Jesus is a striking example of his sensitivity to where people are, and his willingness to reach out in a very practical way to others who need his help. It is important to remember that these miracles of healing are not to demonstrate his power, but to respond to the pain and suffering he is observing. Can you think of any other stories in the gospels where Jesus demonstrates this empathy? How can we cultivate that love and learn how to be there for all the sick, lonely and annoying people who need us? Can we learn to be there for ourselves, when we need a little care, healing or just a drink of water? Teach us O Lord, how to comfort the sick and help the dying cross their particular rivers. Teach us, O Lord, to be aware of what is going on around us and how we may be needed to do your work of healing and reconciliation.

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

Did you notice in this story that Jairus had a name, but the woman was only identified by her affliction? The sad story of the isolation and pain of the woman with the hemorrhage cannot be relegated to the time of Jesus. Women and women’s issues have long been on the list of societal concerns. We still have countries today where there are prohibitions about women driving or going to school; there are places where genital mutilation of young women still occurs. In our country, women who work outside the home get paid, on average, 83 cents of every dollar a male makes for doing the same job. Women who have been the subject of rape are often shamed—asked what they did to “invite” it by dressing wrong or drinking too much. Mothers who work outside the home still do 70% or more of the childcare and household maintenance. They are more likely to take time off from their jobs to care for the needs of children and the elderly/ill members of their families. They are more likely to suffer long term financial consequences in a divorce than men do. Do any of these things bother you? What are your family’s, your workplace’s, your culture’s, your church’s views on women? What are yours?

Poetic Reflection:

From Merton, Thomas, A Book of Hours (p. 67). Ave Maria Press:

Teach me to go to this country beyond words and beyond names.
Teach me to pray on this side of the frontier, here where these woods are.
I need to be led by you.
I need my heart to be moved by you.
I need my soul to be made clean by your prayer.
I need my will to be made strong by you.
I need the world to be saved and changed by you.
I need you for all those who suffer, who are in prison, in danger, in sorrow.
I need you for all the crazy people.
I need your healing hand to work always in my life.
I need you to make me, as you made your Son, a healer, a comforter, a savior.
I need you to name the dead.
I need you to help the dying cross their particular rivers.
I need you for myself whether I live or die.
It is necessary.
Amen.

Closing Prayer

Dear Lord, so many in our world need healing and care. Give us the generosity of spirit to be attentive to their needs, to be patient and loving… Give us eyes to see those in our midst who are sick, lonely, hurting. [Take a moment to think of any specific people for whom you would especially like to pray, and raise your prayers for them to God.]

12th Sunday in Ordinary Time, June 23, 2024

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

• “You Raise Me Up” (sung by Celtic Woman) [YouTube]
• “Abide With Me” (Matt Maher) [YouTube]
• “I Need Thee Every Hour” (Fernando Ortega) [YouTube]
• “Be Not Afraid” (sung by John Michael Talbot) [YouTube]
• “Lord I Need You” (Matt Maher) [YouTube]

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:

• Commentary on 12th Sunday (B) >>

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.

Commentary on 12th Sunday (B)

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>

11th Sunday in Ordinary Time, June 16, 2024

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

• “Seek Ye First” (sung by Maranatha! Praise Band) [YouTube]
• “Here I Am, Lord” (sung by John Michael Talbot) [YouTube]
• “As It Is in Heaven” (sung by Matt Maher) [YouTube]
• “The Kingdom of God” (Taizé) [YouTube]

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.