Wednesday of the Fifth Week of Easter
(Acts 15:1-6; John 15:1-8)
A theologian of some repute once challenged Mother Teresa’s famous dictum that the Lord does not ask us to be successful but only to be faithful. The theologian reasoned that it is a waste of talent and time to go about oblivious to the effects of our actions. Rather, he would say, it is only prudent to make our efforts as productive as possible.
As often happens, both sides in this debate have a hand on the truth. Certainly Jesus calls us to accountability for what we do. Wasting resources and producing results which harm as much as they help are not the fruits that he looks for. But some fruit trees, like the tropical mangosteen, take over a dozen years to grow from seed. Faithfulness on the part of the planter is required if their fruit is ever to be harvested and enjoyed. Just so, sometimes our best efforts require years to produce the results we desire.
In today’s gospel Jesus prescribes faithfulness as the one indispensable quality to produce any worthwhile fruit. He calls himself the vine to which we must stay connected. Apart from him our well-intended actions either devolve into egotism or are summarily abandoned. Both results are like incipient fruit that shrivels when plucked off the vine. Staying connected to Jesus we produce a harvest which both benefits people and glorifies God.
Tuesday of the Fifth Week of Easter
(Acts 14:19-28; John 14:27-31a)
We think of peace as the cessation of hostility, but Scriptures relate a richer meaning. Shalom, the Hebrew word for peace, means fullness or perfection. In the Old Testament Israel may have shalom even when it is at war since the word has less to do with human conflict than with right order in creation. When Israel follows the Law which God has established, the nation is at peace. This is the same blessing that Jesus bequeaths his disciples in the gospel today. Following him the disciples are reconciled with God.
Realizing that being stoned by jealous crowds imitates Jesus’ own persecution, Paul too is at peace. There is no hint of inner conflict as he picks himself up from the ordeal and proceeds on his missionary way. His peace gains depth as he returns to Lystra with Barnabas to shore up the disciples they left behind. And it reaches a climax when the two return to Antioch to celebrate God’s goodness with the church there.
We too find peace by remaining close to God in the midst of our activity. To use everyday images, God is our “ace in the hole,” our “fireman” in the ninth inning, the “one we can count on.” Keeping close to Him by prayer and adherence to His commandments, we have nothing to fear.
(Acts 14:19-28; John 14:27-31a)
We think of peace as the cessation of hostility, but Scriptures relate a richer meaning. Shalom, the Hebrew word for peace, means fullness or perfection. In the Old Testament Israel may have shalom even when it is at war since the word has less to do with human conflict than with right order in creation. When Israel follows the Law which God has established, the nation is at peace. This is the same blessing that Jesus bequeaths his disciples in the gospel today. Following him the disciples are reconciled with God.
Realizing that being stoned by jealous crowds imitates Jesus’ own persecution, Paul too is at peace. There is no hint of inner conflict as he picks himself up from the ordeal and proceeds on his missionary way. His peace gains depth as he returns to Lystra with Barnabas to shore up the disciples they left behind. And it reaches a climax when the two return to Antioch to celebrate God’s goodness with the church there.
We too find peace by remaining close to God in the midst of our activity. To use everyday images, God is our “ace in the hole,” our “fireman” in the ninth inning, the “one we can count on.” Keeping close to Him by prayer and adherence to His commandments, we have nothing to fear.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Feast of Saints Philip and James, Apostles
(I Corinthians 15:1-8; John 14:6-14)
The relative anonymity of the apostles at least hints that none of them followed Jesus for vainglory. The New Testament portrays Peter with depth and refers to James and John in a number of situations. We also have a feeling for Thomas, but in a negative way -- because of his protestations about belief in the resurrection. Of course, we associate Judas with the foulest of characters that we have ever known or heard of. But it is hard to get a sense of what the other apostles are like.
Saints Philip and James are not exceptions to the vagueness of our knowledge. Besides appearance on the lists of apostles, Philip emerges at the beginning of John’s gospel and again near the end (which we find in today’s reading). At the beginning he seems to be on a noble search for the Messiah. But at the end he appears to miss the point of his quest by failing to recognize Jesus as the image of God the Father. In both cases we receive less sense of his personality than we have of the deacon Philip, the deacon in the Acts of the Apostles, who boldly preaches the gospel. It is unlikely that this James is “the brother of the Lord” whom the Acts of the Apostles treats as co-leader of the Jerusalem community along with Peter. He is named on New Testament lists as “son of Alphaeus,” but who is Alphaeus? A strand of tradition refers to him as “James the Less” which at least removes any pretension from his identity.
The anonymity of the apostles is instructive for us. Like them we should not follow Jesus for earthly glory. Rather we suspend our desire for fame in order to serve God by praising His name and caring for His people.
(I Corinthians 15:1-8; John 14:6-14)
The relative anonymity of the apostles at least hints that none of them followed Jesus for vainglory. The New Testament portrays Peter with depth and refers to James and John in a number of situations. We also have a feeling for Thomas, but in a negative way -- because of his protestations about belief in the resurrection. Of course, we associate Judas with the foulest of characters that we have ever known or heard of. But it is hard to get a sense of what the other apostles are like.
Saints Philip and James are not exceptions to the vagueness of our knowledge. Besides appearance on the lists of apostles, Philip emerges at the beginning of John’s gospel and again near the end (which we find in today’s reading). At the beginning he seems to be on a noble search for the Messiah. But at the end he appears to miss the point of his quest by failing to recognize Jesus as the image of God the Father. In both cases we receive less sense of his personality than we have of the deacon Philip, the deacon in the Acts of the Apostles, who boldly preaches the gospel. It is unlikely that this James is “the brother of the Lord” whom the Acts of the Apostles treats as co-leader of the Jerusalem community along with Peter. He is named on New Testament lists as “son of Alphaeus,” but who is Alphaeus? A strand of tradition refers to him as “James the Less” which at least removes any pretension from his identity.
The anonymity of the apostles is instructive for us. Like them we should not follow Jesus for earthly glory. Rather we suspend our desire for fame in order to serve God by praising His name and caring for His people.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Friday of the Fourth Week of Easter
(Acts 13:26-33; John 14:1-6)
A university co-ed tells her roommates in the middle of a blizzard that her father is coming to pick her up. “How can you be so sure he will get here?” the roommates ask. They add, “It’s impossible driving outside.” “Because I am his favorite daughter,” the young woman replies. In the gospel today Jesus means to instill such confidence in his disciples.
The passage is taken from the beginning of the second part of John’s gospel, the so-called Book of Glory. Jesus gives a long farewell speech to his disciples among whom we should see ourselves. He does not want us to worry because he is leaving us. Rather, he assures us that things are better this way. “Why?” we may ask, with the same uncertainty as Thomas displays in the passage. He answers because he is “the way and the truth and the life.” Jesus is the way, the one who leads us to God. He is the truth whose directions we can utterly rely on because he comes from the Father. And he is the life of which we partake in the Eucharist for strength on the journey.
We sometimes find ourselves in bleak situations. Perhaps we face job termination, mortgage foreclosure, or even terminal disease. We are not to cower but to be confident. Jesus sublimely demonstrates this trust on the cross. In John’s crucifixion Jesus does not suffer but reigns when he is crucified. As he predicted, he has drawn the whole world – friends, foes, even the Roman governor to the scene. He completes his work on earth by forming the Church -- his family of brothers and sisters – when he entrusts his mother to his beloved disciple and him to her. And he dies only when he is ready, after everything has been accomplished. Believing in him, we can face our trials with the same surety of spirit.
(Acts 13:26-33; John 14:1-6)
A university co-ed tells her roommates in the middle of a blizzard that her father is coming to pick her up. “How can you be so sure he will get here?” the roommates ask. They add, “It’s impossible driving outside.” “Because I am his favorite daughter,” the young woman replies. In the gospel today Jesus means to instill such confidence in his disciples.
The passage is taken from the beginning of the second part of John’s gospel, the so-called Book of Glory. Jesus gives a long farewell speech to his disciples among whom we should see ourselves. He does not want us to worry because he is leaving us. Rather, he assures us that things are better this way. “Why?” we may ask, with the same uncertainty as Thomas displays in the passage. He answers because he is “the way and the truth and the life.” Jesus is the way, the one who leads us to God. He is the truth whose directions we can utterly rely on because he comes from the Father. And he is the life of which we partake in the Eucharist for strength on the journey.
We sometimes find ourselves in bleak situations. Perhaps we face job termination, mortgage foreclosure, or even terminal disease. We are not to cower but to be confident. Jesus sublimely demonstrates this trust on the cross. In John’s crucifixion Jesus does not suffer but reigns when he is crucified. As he predicted, he has drawn the whole world – friends, foes, even the Roman governor to the scene. He completes his work on earth by forming the Church -- his family of brothers and sisters – when he entrusts his mother to his beloved disciple and him to her. And he dies only when he is ready, after everything has been accomplished. Believing in him, we can face our trials with the same surety of spirit.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
St. Catherine of Siena, virgin
(Acts 13:13-25; John 13:16-20)
Some may think St. Catherine of Siena arrogant. She did not hesitate to tell the pope to stop hiding in Avignon and return to Rome. She was equally forthright with everyone else. Although she was a young virgin, she befriended a condemned man in prison and moved him to repent of his crime. When his head was chopped off, she caught it in her arms and, I imagine, gave it a proper burial.
But Catherine was more likely sublimely humble than supremely arrogant. She thought of herself as nothing except for the Lord whom she worshipped and received in the Eucharist. As long as she carried him in her heart, she knew that she was anybody’s equal. She took seriously Jesus’ words in the gospel, “Whoever receives the one I send, receives me.” Her close association with Jesus in prayer assured her that she was his messenger.
Catherine is the co-patron of Italy and, indeed, for all Europe. She could easily serve as patron of our democracy as well. Her life testifies to the equality of everyone before God – whether man or woman, king or beggar, cleric or lay. In thirty-three years she achieved a lifetime of accomplishments through determination of will and purity of virtue but, much more to the point, through dependence on God. She was largely unlearned, yet she still has much to teach all of us.
(Acts 13:13-25; John 13:16-20)
Some may think St. Catherine of Siena arrogant. She did not hesitate to tell the pope to stop hiding in Avignon and return to Rome. She was equally forthright with everyone else. Although she was a young virgin, she befriended a condemned man in prison and moved him to repent of his crime. When his head was chopped off, she caught it in her arms and, I imagine, gave it a proper burial.
But Catherine was more likely sublimely humble than supremely arrogant. She thought of herself as nothing except for the Lord whom she worshipped and received in the Eucharist. As long as she carried him in her heart, she knew that she was anybody’s equal. She took seriously Jesus’ words in the gospel, “Whoever receives the one I send, receives me.” Her close association with Jesus in prayer assured her that she was his messenger.
Catherine is the co-patron of Italy and, indeed, for all Europe. She could easily serve as patron of our democracy as well. Her life testifies to the equality of everyone before God – whether man or woman, king or beggar, cleric or lay. In thirty-three years she achieved a lifetime of accomplishments through determination of will and purity of virtue but, much more to the point, through dependence on God. She was largely unlearned, yet she still has much to teach all of us.
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