Wednesday, August 6, 2025

 The Transfiguration of the Lord

 (Daniel 7:9-10.13-14; II Peter 1:16-19; Luke 9:28b-36)

 Pope Benedict XVI notes that in Luke’s Gospel the transfiguration occurs while when Jesus is praying.  He calls the prayer an interpenetration of Father and Son which creates the sensation of pure light.  Jesus becomes, as John’s gospel proclaims, “light from light.”

In his prayer Jesus recognizes that God is calling him to suffer.   He can glimpse the cross awaiting him in Jerusalem.  This is the “Exodus” – the end of the mission – which Moses and Elijah discuss with Jesus in the passage.  The vision of suffering does not deter but compels Jesus forward.  He knows that it is the Father’s will, which he will always do, come what may.  Meanwhile, the glory of the light prepares the disciples for the shock of the coming crucifixion.

We should not deny a similar eventuality for ourselves.  Whether acute physical pain, psychological trauma, or a combination of both, we will not likely leave the world without the experiencing suffering.  Like Jesus we should be determined to do God’s will through the ordeal.  More than giving positive example to our associates, we will find in it the path to God’s glory.

Tuesday, August 5, 2025

 

Tuesday of the Eighteenth Week in Ordinary Time

(Numbers 12:1-13; Matthew 14:22-36)

The significance of today’s gospel is well-known.  The disciples’ boat without Jesus represents the Church after Jesus’ resurrection. The storm is the problems of heresy and persecution that the Church has endured to this day. The disciples call out in fear, and Jesus walking on the water comes to their rescue.  The first reading, not as well understood but equally dramatic as the gospel, calls for more attention.

Aaron and Miriam have two criticisms of Moses.  The first is that he married a non-Israelite, which is forbidden in the Book of Deuteronomy. The second is that they too are prophets, but only Moses has the people’s full confidence.  God adjudicates the gripes.  Moses is no ordinary Israelite or prophet.  Rather he has a special relationship with the Lord.  As the meekest person on earth, he speaks to God, as it were, “face-to-face.”  This unique relationship allows him to marry a Cushite woman and to have precedence over other prophets.

Now let us return to Jesus.  He like Moses has a special relationship with God.  But he claims no special privilege for it.  Indeed, his Sonship has made him the only human who could atone for sin.  To do this he must lower himself, first by taking on human flesh with (how did Hamlet put it?) the need “to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune”.  Second, he gives himself to outrage, contempt and cruel death.  As truly the meekest person who has ever lived, we, like Peter, cling to him.  He not only gains for us forgiveness of sin but also the promise of eternal life.

 

Monday, August 4, 2025

 

Memorial of Saint John Vianney, priest

(Numbers 11:4b-15; Matthew 14:13-21)

Today’s gospel underscores both the humanity and the divinity of Jesus.  More poignantly, it anticipates the establishment of the Eucharist as food for the journey.

Jesus, like most humans would be, is appalled by the news of John’s cruel murder.  The latter served as Jesus’ mentor.  He was a just man who in no way deserved such a horrible death.  Although burdened with grief, Jesus attends to the needs of the people who seek his help.  When his disciples suggest that he send the people away to find food, he multiplies the bread available so that the disciples can feed the people themselves.

Jesus’ motions are typically Eucharistic.  He takes the five loaves at hand, looks to heaven, blesses and breaks bread, and gives the resulting plethora to his disciples for distribution.  We rightly understand the story as anticipating the Eucharist. At Mass Jesus through the words and actions of the priest consecrates bread and wine to be distributed by the priest to us at the altar.  The Eucharistic food will allow us to travel securely through life to our heavenly homeland.

Saturday, August 3, 2025

 

Saturday of the Seventeenth Week in Ordinary Time

(Leviticus 25:1.8-17; Matthew 14:1-12)

Today’s first reading describes part of the great Jubilee tradition of Israel.  The Jubilee Year marked the year after seven cycles of sabbatical years, each seven years long, were completed – the fiftieth year.  As a means of achieving social justice, the tradition prescribed three forms of liberty.  First, it proclaimed liberty to those who were dispossessed of their family land.  In the Jubilee Year they could reclaim that land according to the rates established in the Law.  Second, during the Jubilee Year Hebrew slaves could leave their masters to return to their families.  Finally, the Jubilee Year gave freedom from toil as all work on the land was prohibited. The people were to store food from the previous harvest and would scavenge food grown on the fallow land.

 How much these laws and traditions were actually practiced is a debated issue.  There are few references to them in the Old Testament.  But the Gospels tell of Jesus proclaiming a Jubilee Year as he begins to preach in Israel.  Luke describes his entering the synagogue of Nazareth, taking a scroll of the prophet Isaiah, reading the script saying how the Spirit of the Lord was upon him to proclaim glad tidings to the poor, liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind. freedom to the oppressed, and a year acceptable to the Lord.  The “acceptable year” refers the Jubilee Year tradition.

The Jubilee Year was a mechanism of social justice.  Mistakenly, this term has become demonized.  People associate it with socialism and consider its proponents in the Church as ignorant of the workings of grace.  But it may be finding a comeback.  Pope Leo says he chose his name because Leo XIII authored the first social encyclical.  Really, how can we not give social justice more than lip service when our Savior proclaimed himself its agent?

Sunday, August 3, 2025

 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time 

(Ecclesiastes 1:2; 2:21-23; Colossians 3:1-5, 9-11; Luke 12:13-21)

Today’s Gospel parable is typical of the great parables found in Luke: vivid, insightful, and at the same time, concise. It is commonly interpreted as a warning against greed—that is, the excessive desire for wealth. However, its criticism goes far beyond the accumulation of money. In just 131 words, we find a sober critique of hedonism, excessive ambition, selfishness, and the idolatry of wealth. Let’s examine each of these vices more closely.

Jesus himself links the rich man in the parable to greed. Perhaps the best-known example of this vice is the mythical King Midas. We recall how Midas loved gold so much that, as a favor promised by a god, he asked for a “golden touch.” Upon receiving it, everything he touched turned to gold—even his beloved daughter! It is true that gold and money are very useful for obtaining material goods. But not everything can be bought. As the Song of Songs says, “Were one to offer all he owns to purchase love, he would be roundly mocked” (Song of Songs 8:7).

The rich man wants to accumulate wealth in order to have a life of ease. He says to himself, “Now as for you, you have so many good things stored up for many years, rest, eat, drink, be merry!’” There is nothing wrong with rest, good food, or even enjoying a drink—what many consider “the good life.” But when these pleasures are pursued as ends in themselves, they point to a disoriented life. That’s why we should be concerned when our loved ones only talk about the cruises they’ve taken and those they have planned. Pleasure is part of life, but life’s purpose is greater than simply seeking enjoyment. A better conception of “the good life” is “meaningful relationships, personal growth, and participation in activities aligned with one’s values” (from the Internet).

Ambition, too, may be considered a vice, especially in light of the first reading. However, a qualification should be made. The preacher of Ecclesiastes seems to have excessive ambition in mind when he delivers his critique. If only rising early to fulfill our duties were a sin, many of us would be condemned! But the preacher is referring to that kind of ambition that leaves no room for family, health, and certainly not for God. The rich man proves himself unduly ambitious when he plans to build new barns at the first sight of his abundant harvest.

Above all, the farmer reveals the vice of selfishness. He only thinks of himself. He even speaks only to himself. He makes no consideration of sharing his abundance with his workers, neighbors, or the less fortunate around him. St. Augustine described original sin as “homo incurvatus in se”—man curved inward upon himself. The rich farmer provides a good example of the unredeemed human. The fruit of the earth is a gift from God meant to alleviate the needs of all. The farmer should have considered how to deal with his harvest according to a just concept of the common good.

Closely linked to selfishness is the worship of wealth—what has been called “practical idolatry.” This too infects the human heart. Instead of thanking God for their blessings, many people think only of growing their riches. It is a widespread sin. It is reported that roughly the same percentage of Americans play the lottery as attend church at least once a year.

We might consider the advice in the second reading as a remedy for these sins: “Think of what is above, not of what is on earth.” From above, we receive generosity in place of greed. We recall how Jesus tirelessly preached and healed those who came to him. From above, we see Jesus—“the Way, the Truth, and the Life”—as the model of the truly “good life.”  We encounter him in the sacraments and in personal prayer. From above, we witness the humility by which the Son of God became human to redeem us. And finally, from above comes the virtue of religion, through which we thank God for our lives. We recall how Jesus would often withdraw to be alone with his Father in prayer.

Let us also remember St. Peter, when the beggar at the temple gate asked him for alms. Peter said he had neither silver nor gold, but something more precious. Then he healed him in the name of Jesus Christ. The Lord remains our greatest treasure, more valuable any other thing.