Sunday Gospel Reflection, June 26, 2016: Follow me...

 Follow me… 

 If Jesus called you today, how would you respond? 

   In the First Book of Kings, the prophet Elijah is weary.  He prays for death, but God tells him he must identify his successor before he can be relieved of his responsibilities as prophet.  Yet when Elijah approaches Elisha, whom God has instructed him to anoint, Elisha stalls, asking if he may kiss his father and mother goodbye before following Elijah.  When Elijah indirectly criticizes this request, Elisha’s response is radical:  he sells his oxen and equipment and immediately follows Elijah.  It is an example of radical, wholehearted commitment to discipleship.  Like the psalmist in Psalm 16, Elisha knows he must set the Lord ever before him, without hesitation, rejoicing that God will show him the path to life, fullness of joys in God’s presence.

   In Luke's Gospel, Jesus likewise rebukes those who hesitate when asked to follow him:  Let the dead bury their dead, he tells one prospective disciple.  Following Jesus means giving up everything, without looking behind.  It is a difficult route to choose, but ultimately, this radical embracing of God’s Word is the path to liberation in the very best sense. For you were called to freedom, Paul tells the Galatians, so do as Christ taught you:  serve one another through love.  We are freed by baptism in Christ.  Though we may be haunted by sin, we know that we must constantly turn back to God, constantly endeavor to be all God intends for us to be.  We are to live by the Spirit, and be guided by the Spirit, Paul says – meeting Christ where we can, in all those whom we encounter, demonstrating our discipleship by revealing Christ to all, in every circumstance.  How should we respond to God’s call?  Go and proclaim the kingdom of God, so that all may know fullness of joys in the presence of God.

This post is based on OLMC’s Thursday Scripture class.

Image source:  Wordle

Sunday Gospel Reflection, June 19, 2016: My soul is thirsting for you...

  My soul is thirsting for you...  
Where does Jesus’ love lead us? 

   How difficult it is to be separated from God! Psalm 63, attributed to David when he was in the wilderness of Judah, is a moving account of the longing the psalmist feels at being separated from the Temple, separated from the presence and grace of God, separated, that is, from life itself:  for you my flesh pines and my soul thirsts, he says.  And so, lifting up his hands, the psalmist signals his absolute openness before God, his vulnerability, and his profound desire for connection.

   Jesus gave his life on the cross so that we might be reconciled to God.  We see the messianic promise in the Book of Zechariah, where the death of he whom they have pierced will cause a profound emotional reaction among the inhabitants of Jerusalem.  Although they do not understand his words, Jesus himself affirms the necessity of his death to his disciples just before his transfiguration in Luke’s Gospel:  The Son of Man must suffer greatly, … be killed, and on the third day, rise again.  And – stunningly – he invites them to join him:  If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.

   To take up your cross is to be ready to dedicate your life daily, to give up your life daily, putting your life at the service of all.  The cross represents our complete commitment to follow Jesus, the fountain that purifies, sacrificing for other, remaining open to transformation, ever more able to move out of ourselves to express our great love for all those around us.  This means we must belong to Christ, as Paul tells the Galatians – we must become ever more Christ-like, rejecting separation from God as we allow ourselves to receive Jesus so that Christ can shine through as a manifestation of who we are, fully open to God and to other, one in Christ, irrevocably.

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

Image source:  Wordle

Sunday Gospel Reflection, May 29, 2016: They all ate and were satisfied...

They all ate and were satisfied… 

How does the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist change us? 

   As we see in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, the celebration of Eucharist was part of the earliest Church liturgies:  Paul retells the story of institution:  the Lord Jesus, on the night he was handed over, took bread, and after he had given thanks, broke it and said, This is my body that is for you.  Do this in remembrance of me.  In the same way also the cup…  In this act of institution, Jesus fulfills his role as priest-king in the line of Melchizedek, whose story we read in Genesis and revisit in Psalm 110.  And as priest-king, Jesus acts as servant, connecting the people to God.

   It is as servant and priest-king that Jesus presides over a precursor of Eucharist, in Luke’s account of the loaves and fishes.  Having taught the crowds and healed the sick, Jesus also takes, blesses, and break bread, offering it to all present, making what seemed insufficient enough for all, and then some.  And so it is with our very selves:  when we allow ourselves to be taken, blessed,  broken, and shared, we celebrate the mercy of God in the Eucharist that can make us enough – enough to be the revealed presence of Jesus Christ in the world.

   Eucharist is the summit of our faith; Eucharist defines us as a church as it defines our function in the world.  Jesus makes it clear to the disciples before his death that taking him into themselves will change them.  Eucharist also changes us:  thanks to his real presence in the bread and wine, an essential transformation takes place at Eucharist, where all who partake also enter into a newness of life, and are bound to one another in Jesus, becoming the Body of Christ.  May we be open to that transformation taking place within our very selves, allowing ourselves to be blessed and broken for all, as we share in Eucharist and celebrate our essential identity as the Body of Christ.

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

Image source:  Wordle

Sunday Gospel Reflection, February 21, 2016: Stand firm in the Lord...

  Stand firm in the Lord…  

  From what posture might we best encounter God?  

   In Genesis, the Lord takes Abram outside and invites him to look to the stars as a measure of the number of descendents he will bear, descendents who will take possession of a land alien to Abram at some future time.  Abram has no evidence that what God promises will come to pass, yet he puts his trust in the Lord, accepting the new covenant offered by God in spite of the deep darkness that first enfolds him. Abram thus enters into right relationship with God, and will henceforth live from God's promise; his posture is one of absolute faith in the Lord.  Psalm 27 likewise tells of an encounter of complete trust:  the psalmist sees God as his goal, the purpose of his life; his heart tells him that God is what he needs.  Like Abram and the psalmist, our hearts drive us to encounter God from a posture of trust, knowing that God will illumine our existence:  The Lord is my light and my salvation.

   In Luke's version of the Transfiguration, Peter's posture is not as well grounded as that of Abram or the psalmist.  Confronted with the presence of Moses and Elijah on the mountain with Jesus, Peter wants to hold on to old traditions, building tents for the prophets as his ancestors would have done.  Instead, God intervenes, pointing him to a new posture:  Listen to him, God tells Peter.  In other words, stay open, stay firm, and trust.  Only after Jesus' death and rising will Peter come to a full understanding of this experience on the mountain; only then will he come to understand the cross of Christ of which Paul speaks to the Philippians; only once he embraces that cross will Peter know, as we might one day know, the transformation of our lowly body into one glorified like that of Christ.

   To stand firm in the Lord is to encounter Jesus from a posture of openness and trust, with faith in God's promise of salvation.  It is, in short, a posture of love, calling us to absolute faith in God's power, a power grounded in God's love for humanity and his willingness to send his Son to die for us on the cross, arms open, embracing the world.

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

Image source:  Wordle