Sunday Gospel Reflection, March 22, 2026: Whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live

Whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live…
Can we find new life in Christ? 

   De Profundis, as Psalm 130 is more commonly known, speaks to the experience of an individual who has found himself in dire need of God’s mercy: Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord, the psalmist sings, Lord, hear my voice! It is a psalm that would perhaps have brought comfort to the people of Israel exiled to Babylon: For with the Lord is kindness and plenteous redemption; and he will redeem Israel from all their iniquities. In the midst of this difficult exile, the people of Israel hear words of restoration from the prophet Ezekiel, words of hope and promise that only God can provide: O my people, I will open your graves and have you rise from them, and bring you back to the land of Israel. Their identity will come not only from the land that will be restored to them, but from God’s spirit implanted in them: I will put my spirit in you that you may live, God promises. To be in relationship with the God who loves them is to have the life God promises. 

   Jesus’ friend Lazarus has not fallen out of right relationship with the Lord as the people of Israel had. But in John’s Gospel, Jesus uses his good friend’s illness as a means through which he can reveal the Father’s work through him and with him, that all might come to believe. When, even in the midst of her grief, Martha expresses her continued trust in Jesus’ plan, Jesus reassures her definitively: whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live. If Lazarus can be raised, set free from death itself, then all have the opportunity to be freed from their fear of death, and live. We can live, as Paul tells the Romans, in the spirit, if only the Spirit of God dwells in us. Physical death, even a body dead because of sin, is as nothing so long as the spirit is alive because of righteousness, for the one who raised Christ from the dead gives life to our mortal bodies also. If Jesus dwells in us, if we allow him entry, then we can be alive in Christ, finding new life in him and giving resounding witness to the glory of God! 

This post is based on Fr. Pat’s Scripture class.
Image source: www.wordclouds.com

Sunday Gospel Reflection, April 6, 2025: The Lord has done great things for us; we are glad indeed!

The Lord has done great things for us; we are glad indeed!
Do we perceive what God is doing right here, right now? 

    When you’re living in exile under foreign domination, it’s hard to imagine things can get better. But God sends the Prophet Isaiah to the people of Israel in Babylon to encourage them to pay attention to God’s activity right here and now. See, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth; do you not perceive it? The people mistakenly believed that the God of Israel had no power outside of their land, but Isaiah sets them straight: God has not abandoned them and will not abandon them in the future. If they pay attention, if they are aware right here, right now, if they are sensitive to God’s activity in the present moment, they will see that things are changing, the world is transforming. God is at work in their lives right now -- do they not perceive it? It’s hard to imagine that they will soon be home in their own land, praying Psalm 126: The Lord has done great things for us; we are filled with joy! They will be grateful for all God has done and hopeful that God will continue to work in their midst, filling the empty wadis with water and helping the seeds to be sown to prosper. God will be at work then, too. Will they perceive it? 

    Certainly the woman who had been caught in adultery in Luke’s Gospel will quickly become aware of what God is doing in the present moment. The scribes and Pharisees who bring the woman before Jesus feel challenged by him, because Jesus challenges Judaic law in ways that none of them can argue with. What they don’t perceive, however, is that God is at work even in their bringing the woman to him; it is an opportunity for Jesus to reveal God’s love and compassion for God’s people – even the scribes and Pharisees themselves. But do they perceive it? If they continue to pass judgment, reserving judgment for themselves, they are not going to see God at work. And so Jesus commands, Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her. Jesus hopes to change their perception, not only of God but of themselves, for they too are sinners! And once all the scribes and Pharisees have left, the woman herself has an opportunity to see things differently: Has no one condemned you? Jesus asks. Neither do I condemn you. Go, and from now on do not sin any more. It is hard to imagine that her perception could possibly remain unchanged after such a stunning intervention by Jesus in her life! 

    St Paul himself had a similarly stunning conversion moment. Having been sold on the tenets of Judaic law, Paul was ready to defend its finest details and force others to obey it. In his Letter to the Philippians, however, Paul looks back upon that part of his life as so much rubbish, because it kept him from recognizing Jesus and finding salvation. Like Paul – and the woman whose life is saved by Jesus – we need to pay attention to what God is doing in our midst, right here, right now, and strain forward to what lies ahead. We have gained Christ; let us now be found in him, that he might take possession of us and continue to transform us, as we dwell in his grace and in his presence. For he is at work at us, if only we make the effort to perceive it! 

This post is based on Fr. Pat’s Scripture class.
Image source: www.wordclouds.com

Sunday Gospel Reflection, March 17, 2024: I will place my law within them and write it upon their hearts...

I will place my law within them and write it upon their hearts…

What has God written upon our hearts?

    Jeremiah prophesies during the time of the demise of the kingdom of Judah, but the people of Judah resist his message of doom. Yet, even as their exile is upon them, the Lord promises the people that one day, there will be a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah, a covenant more intimate than all previous covenants, for, the Lord says, I will place my law within them and write it upon their hearts. The new covenant will bind the people from within rather than from without; it will reside at the center of their beings, moving them from the depths of who they are to attend to their relationship with God. They might well pray Psalm 51, Create a clean heart in me, o God, expressing their desire to start over with a clean slate, that they might know the joy of God’s salvation. Their faith may have ebbed for a time, but they can regain that faith in the God who loves them, through prayer. 

    In John’s version of Jesus’ agony in the garden, Jesus acknowledges that he himself is the grain of wheat that will fall to the ground and die, but yet will produce much fruit. The Letter to the Hebrews reminds us that Jesus knew very human struggles; when he was in the flesh, he offered prayers and supplications with loud cries and tears to his Father. Through prayer, Jesus was able to go to his own heart, as we must learn to do, for to pray is to open ourselves to the God who loves us. As he falls to the ground and dies, Jesus is leading us to our own transformation, a dying to self, that we might follow him. What is written on our hearts can win out. 

    As in Jeremiah’s prophecy, Jesus’ promise also looks to the future: Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life. The joy of the eternal salvation Jesus obtains for us lies in our recognition that this life is not what it’s all about; we endure its difficulties, but the promise of life to come makes it possible for us to endure them. Our access to faith ebbs and flows throughout our lives, as does our access to our own hearts. A closed heart is a sign of the ebbing tide of faith. At such times, the covenant God wrote upon it is still there; we just don’t have access to it. What God writes is that he loves us, and that love is absolute. To access the absolute love of God, we need to be willing to go to our hearts, where he dwells, and we do so as we open, turning to him in prayer, and journeying with him, through death to new life. 

This post is based on Fr. Pat’s Scripture class.
Image source: www.wordclouds.com

Sunday Gospel Reflection, March 26, 2023: I am the resurrection and the life...

I am the resurrection and the life…

Do you believe Christ’s Spirit dwells in you? 

    Imagine being raised from the dead! As Jesus approaches the end of his ministry in John’s Gospel, he knows that he needs to demonstrate beyond any doubt that he is the Son of God. When he learns that his friend Lazarus is ill, Jesus nonetheless remains for two days in the place where he is, for there can be no doubt that Lazarus is dead if Jesus’ actions are to have any effect. When, finally, Jesus arrives in Bethany, only Martha, the sister of Lazarus, has some modicum of faith in him: I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you, she tells Jesus. Jesus knows Psalm 130; he knows that when he addresses himself to the Father, he will be heard, for his soul trusts in the Father’s word. Surrounded by the Jewish community of Bethany, Jesus thanks his Father for hearing him and summarily raises Lazarus from the dead: Lazarus, come out! As Jesus has just told Martha, he is the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in him even if he dies, will live. And thus, Lazarus exits the tomb and is unbound. 

    Yet the story of Lazarus is our own story. Jesus comes to lead us through death to life, life in him. Like the promise of God to the people of Israel conveyed by Ezekiel, Jesus comes to put his Spirit in us, that we may live. As the people are restored to life, made whole by the Spirit of God, so, too are we blessed by the kindness and mercy and fullness of redemption born of the death and rising of Jesus. And, as Paul tells the Romans, If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, the one who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also, through his Spirit dwelling in you. If we are focused in the love of Christ and in the power of God at work in the world, in us and through us, then we belong to Christ and are one with him, no longer alone in our fears or isolation or brokenness, but one in his Body, one with him, in Spirit and truth. We too raised from the dead by the Lord who loves us beyond all telling, who hears our voice, and calls to us, come out, that we might be unbound! 

This post is based on Fr. Pat’s Scripture class.
Image source: www.wordclouds.com

Sunday Gospel Reflection, April 3, 2022: I continue my pursuit in hope...

I continue my pursuit in hope… 

Where do you find hope? 

    In the chapter 43 of the Book of the Prophet Isaiah, God offers a people in exile a sense of hope: See, I am doing something new! Rather than focusing on what has been, the people may look forward to their return home, because those who had enslaved them will be no more, snuffed out and quenched like a wick. All of this is extraordinary, but is nothing compared to what they are going to see in the long run, namely, God’s mercy, mercy expressed in all the ways God creates a clear path home for them: In the desert I make a way. The Lord has done great things for them, as Psalm 126 states; God’s promise is that their new home after exile will be prosperous, giving them every reason to hope. 

    God’s promise is most welcome when all hope seems lost. In John’s Gospel, Jesus is in the temple area when the scribes and Pharisees bring a woman who has been caught in adultery, a woman who has surely lost all hope. Rather than accuse her accusers, however, Jesus bends down, demonstrating that he is not a threat, and writes on the ground; when he stands, he invites them to humility: Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her. In response, the scribes and Pharisees go away one by one, not daring to meet his challenge, thereby abandoning their accusation against the woman. They who would judge and condemn silently must acknowledge that, when judgment turns its eye to them, they cannot stand; the sheer power of Jesus’ invitation turns them away, and the woman’s hope is restored: Neither do I condemn you, Jesus says, though he alone of the crowd is without sin. 

    In his Letter to the Philippians, Paul acknowledges that he has accepted the loss of all things that he may gain Christ. All he depended upon in the past, all that his identity had been grounded in before, is lost to him, that he might look forward in hope. The cross is God’s greatest act of love; through it, transformation takes place and redemption is brought about. Paul’s righteousness is from God. Christ similarly takes possession of us, filling us; the prize of our upward calling is that of transcendance, as we are consumed by his love. May we, like St. Paul, let go of our successes as well as our failures, continuing our pursuit in hope that we too might one day gain redemption and the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus our Lord, as we are transformed daily by the cross of Christ. 

This post is based on Fr. Pat’s Scripture class. 

Image source: www.wordclouds.com

Sunday Gospel Reflection, March 21, 2021: Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies...

Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies… 

How do we die to self and open in obedience to the Lord? 

   The new covenant that the Lord describes through the prophet Jeremiah is unlike its predecessors in that it is written on the hearts of the people, placed within them, so that they hold it in the very depths of their being and attend to it, obedient to the law within. This covenant placed in their hearts will become a part of their very identity, as adults with intimate knowledge of God and his precepts. It suggests a maturity of relationship previously unseen in God’s relationship with God’s people: All, from least to greatest, shall know me, God says. It is a relationship upon which Christianity will one day build. 

   In John’s Gospel, Jesus, the ultimate fulfillment of God’s covenant, knows he must suffer and die so that resurrection can come for all people: unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit. We, too, must die – we must die to our own ego so that the Lord can be at the center of our life. We are thus called to a life of obedience, obedience to the law written on our hearts. The Letter to the Hebrews reminds us that Jesus himself learned obedience from what he suffered; he was priest and sacrifice, once and for all. Jesus embraced his own humanity that he might suffer for the sake of others, giving his love flesh, permanence and undeniability, becoming the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him. Our own obedience helps us to clarify our sight; we open ourselves to the eternal, live for the sake of the eternal, by being obedient to the one who understood obedience first and foremost. This requires, as Psalm 51 reminds us, a clean heart, a heart transformed so that we might follow the Lord’s ways. In so doing we will find the true joy of salvation, that we might be drawn to Christ and know him, intimately. 

This post is based on Fr. Pat’s Scripture class. 

Image source: www.wordclouds.com

Sunday Gospel Reflection, March 29, 2020: Jesus wept...

Jesus wept…

Do you believe?

 

  One would think that Jesus could remain relatively calm when Lazarus – the one he loves – falls ill and dies, but in fact, in John’s Gospel, Jesus becomes emotional:  When Jesus saw Mary weeping and the Jews who had come with her weeping, he became perturbed and deeply troubled, and then, John tells us, Jesus wept.  But why? Jesus clearly knows that he will raise Lazarus from the dead, since he says, This illness is not to end in death, but is for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified through it.  So why does Jesus weep?  Why is he perturbed, moved to the depth of his being, by a death that will soon be reversed?  Perhaps Jesus weeps over his friends, over those who are trying, but struggling, to believe.  It is love that drives Jesus’ perturbed state, love responding to the pain and grief of those who do not yet know that death is not final, who have not yet come to full belief.  The crowd notices Jesus’ extravagant love, his compassion:  see how he loved him, they say.  But they do not yet know that anyone who believes in him will live in eternal union with God, because death cannot hold them.  In the end, once Lazarus comes out, tied hand and foot with burial bands, John notes that many of the Jews who had seen what Jesus had done began to believe in him.  But their faith journey is not yet over; it will end only once they know perfect, eternal union with God.

  God has always called God’s people to faith, to belief in God’s faithfulness.  In Psalm 130, the psalmist entreats the Lord, trusting in God’s mercy:  out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord; he seeks to live in relationship with the Lord in spite of his own breach of covenant.  In the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel, God tells the people of Israel in exile in Babylon that God will open their graves and have them rise from them.  Ezekiel is not talking about resurrection of the body, but of transformation:  God will bring this people, who are dead to him, having been unfaithful to covenant, back to life as a nation by putting God’s spirit in them, that they might live.  Paul will evoke a similar idea in his letter to the Romans, reminding them that they are in the spirit, and that they must thus remain aware of and open to God's Spirit, the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead, who dwells in them.  The Spirit of God dwells in them, dwells in us, because we have been baptized in Christ; now we must believe, and live that belief with the same extravagant love that Jesus did, with extravagant compassion for others’ suffering, extravagant self-giving to those in need, moved at the depth of our being, moved to weep as Jesus wept, with faith in the glory of God revealed.

This post is based on Fr. Pat’s Scripture class.

Image source:  www.wordclouds.com

Sunday Gospel Reflection, April 7, 2019: Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone...

Let the one among you who is without sin 

be the first to throw a stone…

Why does God bring us back from exile?

  When you’re suffering, stories of the past can offer hope for the future.  In the Book of the Prophet Isaiah, the people in exile in Babylon look back to the story of Moses and remember that once upon a time, God brought them out of Egypt, opening a way in the sea and a path in the mighty waters.  But the people need not focus on the past, God tells them, for God is doing something new, transforming creation and promising the people redemption, that they might announce God’s praise.  Psalm 126 continues the story, reminding us that when the Lord brought back the captives of Zion, there was again need for redemption:  restore our fortunes, o Lord, they pray.  Only God can bring us back from the exile to which we consign ourselves.

  Likewise, in John’s Gospel, only Jesus can restore the fortunes of the woman caught in adultery. When she is accused by the scribes and Pharisees, her expectation is that she will be stoned. But, like the people of Israel, Jesus brings her back from the exile of sin, asking only that she not sin any more.  His challenge to the scribes and Pharisees is similar.  Having bent down to write on the ground, he eventually stands and calls these men to look at their own hearts:  Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone.  When he rises a second time, it is the woman whom he calls to look at her own heart.  In each case, Jesus stands to invite, each time calling his listeners to something deeper, to an acceptance of the mercy that is theirs if only they are open to it.

  Why?  Paul tells the Corinthians that his total focus, his total reason for living, is to be taken possession of by Christ Jesus, to recognize that fact and to proclaim it.  Everything else is so much rubbish by comparison!  What does it mean for Christ to take possession of us?  How might that possession make our lives different than they would otherwise be?  To conform to his death is to surrender to him, to allow him to take possession of our heart.  What was his death, but a surrender to mankind because of the depth of his love for us?  Brought back from exile by his forgiveness, we are called to the same surrender, to surrender ourselves to his love for us and to surrender into that love for other.  Brought back from the exile of sin, such surrender is our only hope for resurrection – let us be filled with joy!

This post is based on Fr. Pat’s Scripture class.

Image source:  www.wordclouds.com