Today I want to be Eucharistic, a Greek word that means thankful. In today's first reading from Ezekiel we learn that God is our shepherd, the one who promises to be our protector especially at night when we are most vulnerable. In becoming the shepherd God assumes the role of the lowly peasant, someone in the ancient world who had no voice, whose only task was to protect the sheep. Illiterate but compassionate, shepherds would gather all the sheep together at night and literally lie down at the opening of the sheep pen to keep predators from entering. God promises to be our shepherd, our guide, our protector.
This aspect of God's nature is made even clearer in today's gospel when Jesus, as the King of all creation, assures us that when we assume the role of shepherd and feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, shelter to the stranger, clothing to the naked, and show compassion to the sick and imprisoned, we do it for him. Becoming totally other centered is the task of shepherds and we can do this on a daily basis when we look out for those most in need and those often ignored or dismissed by others as pariahs.
Jesus also promises to be the lamb of sacrifice and reminds us that we will have to take on the same role often in our lives. When we commit ourselves to a gospel path, we assume there will be moments of great stress that demand we forget ourselves for the sake of others, and often this role to which the Lord guides us will be taken for granted, even mocked.
Many years ago, one of my heroines, Sr. Dorothy Ann Kelly, (RIP) the former president of the College of New Rochelle where I served as a chaplain, would often call me to accompany her to nursing homes and hospitals where she knew former students and benefactors of the College were languishing without support from family or friends. Dorothy Ann visited these "friends" often not only because they were alone and forgotten, but because she was grateful for their past kindnesses to the college and for the freedom she had to visit. On our drive to the hospital or nursing home, Dorothy Ann would tell me stories about the people we were about to visit. She did not want me to simply function as a priest and bless the sick or hear their confessions. She wanted me to minister to them, not as anonymous alumnae, but as people with a history and a personality who had become old and frightened and who needed a kind and gentle hand.
Today, on the feast of Christ the King, thank God for the privilege of visiting the sick and imprisoned, of feeding the hungry, clothing the naked and giving drink to the thirsty.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Non Violence
"When the king heard this news, he was struck with fear and very much shaken. Sick with grief because his designs had failed, he took to his bed. There he remained many days, overwhelmed with sorrow, for he knew he was going to die." I Mc 6: 8-10
The two books of Maccabees recount the success of the Jewish people in defending their land and people, but only if they worship the one God and live according to the law. Violent and graphic, the books of Maccabees are not easy to read because they force us to think about and reflect on our own violence especially towards those we perceive as vulnerable.
Today's reading is about King Antiochus who recognizes the foolishness of the violent path his life has taken, but only after he has failed to conquer those he perceived as weak. Realizing that his own life was near an end, and full of anxiety, he goes to bed knowing that sooner rather than later someone more violent than he will come to kill him. In fact, however, his spirit has already died because he has no hope for transformation or reconciliation.
For Christians hope can never die because Christ is always waiting and anxious for us to return to a path of compassion and justice. Though not all Christians feel called to an intentional life of non violence, it is a real option for some, and one to which many of our contemporaries have given their lives. One group with which I have been familiar for many years, The Institute for Peace and Justice, is worth exploring.
I would encourage families especially to look a the Family Pledge of Non Violence as a conversation starter and possible commitment. If we can find a way as families to begin a life of non violence in our homes and communities, we can make a real difference in the world. Though difficult to live out, especially in a world and culture as competitive as ours, non violence can be a leaven in our families and neighborhoods. When our friends and relatives know that we are working to let go of the need to always be right for the sake of being in peaceful relationships with one another, they might see themselves in a different light and begin to work towards letting go of those memories, attitudes and habits that separate them from their authentic selves.
Today, as Thanksgiving nears, take a moment to pray for those who are separated from their families and friends because of unresolved conflicts.
The two books of Maccabees recount the success of the Jewish people in defending their land and people, but only if they worship the one God and live according to the law. Violent and graphic, the books of Maccabees are not easy to read because they force us to think about and reflect on our own violence especially towards those we perceive as vulnerable.
Today's reading is about King Antiochus who recognizes the foolishness of the violent path his life has taken, but only after he has failed to conquer those he perceived as weak. Realizing that his own life was near an end, and full of anxiety, he goes to bed knowing that sooner rather than later someone more violent than he will come to kill him. In fact, however, his spirit has already died because he has no hope for transformation or reconciliation.
For Christians hope can never die because Christ is always waiting and anxious for us to return to a path of compassion and justice. Though not all Christians feel called to an intentional life of non violence, it is a real option for some, and one to which many of our contemporaries have given their lives. One group with which I have been familiar for many years, The Institute for Peace and Justice, is worth exploring.
I would encourage families especially to look a the Family Pledge of Non Violence as a conversation starter and possible commitment. If we can find a way as families to begin a life of non violence in our homes and communities, we can make a real difference in the world. Though difficult to live out, especially in a world and culture as competitive as ours, non violence can be a leaven in our families and neighborhoods. When our friends and relatives know that we are working to let go of the need to always be right for the sake of being in peaceful relationships with one another, they might see themselves in a different light and begin to work towards letting go of those memories, attitudes and habits that separate them from their authentic selves.
Today, as Thanksgiving nears, take a moment to pray for those who are separated from their families and friends because of unresolved conflicts.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Dedication of the Basilicas of Sts Peter and Paul
"Jesus entered the temple area and proceeded to drive out those who were selling things." Lk 19:45
For a millenium the basilica of St Peter's and St Paul outside the walls, although miles apart, were connected by a covered colonnade, a visual sign that Peter who represented the foundation of the church in Jerusalem and Paul who went as missioner to the nations, had roles that were intimately tied to one another. Every community or institution that wants to have an impact in the world must have both a vision out of which it operates, and a commitment to spread its message, its good news, to everyone.
Another necessary aspect of this bilateral identity, which some call roots and branches, is its ability to address the major issues that its people confront everyday. What for instance has the church to say to the people who are organizing Occupy Wall Street? Thousands of people all around our country have been gathering to protest high unemployment, greed, corruption and the terrible and growing disparity between rich and poor people in our nation.
Whether you support the protests or not, it is impossible to ignore them. They are loud, angry and persevering and they echo a telling Op Ed piece in the New York Times by Nicholas Kristoff almost a year ago "From 1980 to 2005, more than four-fifths of the total increase in American incomes went to the richest 1 percent," Kristoff wrote, and "The richest 1 percent of Americans now take home almost 24 percent of income, up from almost 9 percent in 1976." (1) From the perspective of faith, it is not simply the skewed numbers that demand our attention, it is how this disparity in wealth affects the poorest among us who Jesus demanded we protect and help.
For a millenium the basilica of St Peter's and St Paul outside the walls, although miles apart, were connected by a covered colonnade, a visual sign that Peter who represented the foundation of the church in Jerusalem and Paul who went as missioner to the nations, had roles that were intimately tied to one another. Every community or institution that wants to have an impact in the world must have both a vision out of which it operates, and a commitment to spread its message, its good news, to everyone.
Another necessary aspect of this bilateral identity, which some call roots and branches, is its ability to address the major issues that its people confront everyday. What for instance has the church to say to the people who are organizing Occupy Wall Street? Thousands of people all around our country have been gathering to protest high unemployment, greed, corruption and the terrible and growing disparity between rich and poor people in our nation.
Whether you support the protests or not, it is impossible to ignore them. They are loud, angry and persevering and they echo a telling Op Ed piece in the New York Times by Nicholas Kristoff almost a year ago "From 1980 to 2005, more than four-fifths of the total increase in American incomes went to the richest 1 percent," Kristoff wrote, and "The richest 1 percent of Americans now take home almost 24 percent of income, up from almost 9 percent in 1976." (1) From the perspective of faith, it is not simply the skewed numbers that demand our attention, it is how this disparity in wealth affects the poorest among us who Jesus demanded we protect and help.
It seems to me that Jesus was responding to a similar situation in today's gospel when he drove people who were selling things out of the temple. The Lord's upset was not simply an angry rant against the sellers, he was raging against those who sold things and provided a money exchange around the temple at terribly inflated rates, especially to pilgrims who arrived at the temple in Jerusalem for the first and often the only time in their lives.
During the ugly budget debates in the Spring of 2011, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops offered some moral guidelines for us in this regard and warned us that just as the the poor pilgrims in the gospel were protected by an angry Jesus, we too must keep the needs of the poor before us when we make our budgets. The bishops wrote, “Many proposals under discussion fail the moral criteria of Catholic teaching to protect the poor and advance the common good,” and “Poor and vulnerable people didn’t cause our budget deficit. They should not bear the greatest burdens in overcoming them. Don’t make them pay for it.”(2)
Today, talk with someone about your own temptation to greed and the Christian responsibility to keep the needs of the poor in front of us when we make our personal and national budgets.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
St Elizabeth of Hungary
"There she attended the most wretched and contemptible at her own table." (Office of Readings)
Married at fourteen, she had three children by the time she was twenty when her husband died tragically. By twenty four she was dead herself. If this sounds like a thousand other stories you have read about a girl from almost any inner city in the United States, it isn't. It is a synopsis of the life of St Elizabeth of Hungary, the patroness of the Secular Franciscan Order, who in less than a quarter of a century of living, fired the imaginations of her contemporaries with her love of the poor and her willingness to serve them with her own hands and food. In fact, her witness was so powerful, she was canonized only four years after her death.
Elizabeth was born into and married royalty. She had access to money and power, but when her husband died on his way to fight the sixth crusade, she decided to leave the palace and follow Conrad, her Franciscan spiritual director, to Marburg where she continued her life of compassion for those most in need. Conrad wrote that Elizabeth "built a hospice where she gathered together the weak and the feeble. There she attended the most wretched and contemptible at her own table."(1)
Heroines and heroes are always important. They not only encourage us to stretch beyond what feels comfortable in our faith practices and to live simple lives, they also remind us that our lives as Christians are public lives and ought to be impact the lives and lifestyles of our communities and nations.
People of faith, especially the married and families, are the ground upon which the church builds communities of compassion for the poor and justice for all. After all, it was the faith and courage of our parents and grandparents, so many of whom were immigrants, who came to this country and built, hospitals, schools, orphanages, soup kitches and shelters because they knew that faith demanded they respond to the struggles they saw all around them. Though the structures might change, the demand of the gospel to feed the hungry and give drink to the thirsty will never change. St. Elizabeth of Hungary, who is the patroness of Catholic Charities, remains an icon who challenges our generation not only to pray for justice in our churches, but to live the gospel in our streets.
Today, recall someone who has been a heroine of hero to you and pray to live like them.
Married at fourteen, she had three children by the time she was twenty when her husband died tragically. By twenty four she was dead herself. If this sounds like a thousand other stories you have read about a girl from almost any inner city in the United States, it isn't. It is a synopsis of the life of St Elizabeth of Hungary, the patroness of the Secular Franciscan Order, who in less than a quarter of a century of living, fired the imaginations of her contemporaries with her love of the poor and her willingness to serve them with her own hands and food. In fact, her witness was so powerful, she was canonized only four years after her death.
Elizabeth was born into and married royalty. She had access to money and power, but when her husband died on his way to fight the sixth crusade, she decided to leave the palace and follow Conrad, her Franciscan spiritual director, to Marburg where she continued her life of compassion for those most in need. Conrad wrote that Elizabeth "built a hospice where she gathered together the weak and the feeble. There she attended the most wretched and contemptible at her own table."(1)
Heroines and heroes are always important. They not only encourage us to stretch beyond what feels comfortable in our faith practices and to live simple lives, they also remind us that our lives as Christians are public lives and ought to be impact the lives and lifestyles of our communities and nations.
People of faith, especially the married and families, are the ground upon which the church builds communities of compassion for the poor and justice for all. After all, it was the faith and courage of our parents and grandparents, so many of whom were immigrants, who came to this country and built, hospitals, schools, orphanages, soup kitches and shelters because they knew that faith demanded they respond to the struggles they saw all around them. Though the structures might change, the demand of the gospel to feed the hungry and give drink to the thirsty will never change. St. Elizabeth of Hungary, who is the patroness of Catholic Charities, remains an icon who challenges our generation not only to pray for justice in our churches, but to live the gospel in our streets.
Today, recall someone who has been a heroine of hero to you and pray to live like them.
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