Memorial of Saint Francis Xavier, priest
(Isaiah 29:17-24, Matthew 9:27-31)
In explaining why random evolution cannot account for the complexity of life, intelligent design advocates often reflect on the eye. They say that such an intricate organ is not likely to come about by chance, no matter if it had a zillion years to develop. Of course, seeing is not only wonderful, it is imminently useful. For this reason the blind men in today’s gospel seek Jesus’ mercy.
The two men lack physical sight, but they possess another, even more critical, way of seeing. They believe that Jesus is the son of David who will establish God’s definitive rule throughout the world. As Isaiah foretold, he is the one who will open the ears of the deaf, give sight to the blind, and bring release to prisoners. Jesus rewards their faith with a new kind of twenty-twenty vision: they can now see as well with their eyes as they have all along with their souls.
Today the Church remembers St. Francis Xavier, the tireless Jesuit missionary who preached faith in Jesus to thousands of people in Asia. Francis realized that God’s rule would not come about by wielding swords but by sacrificing self in charity.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Thursday of the First Week in Advent
(Isaiah 26:1-6; Matthew 7: 21.24-27)
The Protestant hymn “Rock of Ages” is said to find its inspiration in the reading from Isaiah today. God is “an eternal Rock” who humbles the haughty and protects the poor. A popular story surrounding the origin of the hymn pictures a humble clergyman returning home during a violent thunderstorm and finding shelter in a cave. The curate compares the cave to the pierced side of Jesus from which flowed his saving blood.
In his commentary on rock, Jesus is not so metaphorical. He compares the words that he has just uttered – the “Sermon on the Mount” – to a solid foundation for a building. Living the “Golden Rule” and the other counsels Jesus presents, we will withstand life’s greatest assaults. Death itself will not take us down.
During Advent we ask the Lord to demonstrate his strength. We long to see an end to heartbreak in Haiti and bloodbaths in Baghdad. We even dare to plead that we might become more patient, peaceful, and compassionate.
(Isaiah 26:1-6; Matthew 7: 21.24-27)
The Protestant hymn “Rock of Ages” is said to find its inspiration in the reading from Isaiah today. God is “an eternal Rock” who humbles the haughty and protects the poor. A popular story surrounding the origin of the hymn pictures a humble clergyman returning home during a violent thunderstorm and finding shelter in a cave. The curate compares the cave to the pierced side of Jesus from which flowed his saving blood.
In his commentary on rock, Jesus is not so metaphorical. He compares the words that he has just uttered – the “Sermon on the Mount” – to a solid foundation for a building. Living the “Golden Rule” and the other counsels Jesus presents, we will withstand life’s greatest assaults. Death itself will not take us down.
During Advent we ask the Lord to demonstrate his strength. We long to see an end to heartbreak in Haiti and bloodbaths in Baghdad. We even dare to plead that we might become more patient, peaceful, and compassionate.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Wednesday of the First Week in Ordinary Time
(Isaiah 25:6-10a; Matthew 15:29-37)
People speak of “death with dignity,” but, as a leading bioethicist has observed, death always compromises human dignity. It refuses to recognize the person’s desire not only to live but to thrive. Of course, what people mean by the term is a death without the depersonalization of medical technology, without intense long-term suffering, and with the person controlling some of the circumstances about her demise. Full dignity, however, goes beyond these considerations. It is a quality of soul engendered by virtuous living. In death dignity is reflected especially in courage that expresses gratitude for life even as it drains away and pursues reconciliation with God and others to leave the world a friendlier place.
In the first reading the prophet Isaiah promises a heavenly banquet for those who die with full dignity. On that occasion the tears that they may have shed bearing pain or seeking peace will be graciously wiped away. Also, the God to whom they entrusted themselves will reveal Himself as their savior. The gospel passage foreshadows that banquet with Jesus providing the repast as he shows himself the fulfillment of the people’s deepest desires.
During Advent we look for Jesus to come and console us in our efforts to live virtuously. We yearn for him to escort us to the table of plenty which our Eucharist foreshadows. Finally, we hear him tell us the best way to prepare for his arrival is the same virtuous lifestyle.
(Isaiah 25:6-10a; Matthew 15:29-37)
People speak of “death with dignity,” but, as a leading bioethicist has observed, death always compromises human dignity. It refuses to recognize the person’s desire not only to live but to thrive. Of course, what people mean by the term is a death without the depersonalization of medical technology, without intense long-term suffering, and with the person controlling some of the circumstances about her demise. Full dignity, however, goes beyond these considerations. It is a quality of soul engendered by virtuous living. In death dignity is reflected especially in courage that expresses gratitude for life even as it drains away and pursues reconciliation with God and others to leave the world a friendlier place.
In the first reading the prophet Isaiah promises a heavenly banquet for those who die with full dignity. On that occasion the tears that they may have shed bearing pain or seeking peace will be graciously wiped away. Also, the God to whom they entrusted themselves will reveal Himself as their savior. The gospel passage foreshadows that banquet with Jesus providing the repast as he shows himself the fulfillment of the people’s deepest desires.
During Advent we look for Jesus to come and console us in our efforts to live virtuously. We yearn for him to escort us to the table of plenty which our Eucharist foreshadows. Finally, we hear him tell us the best way to prepare for his arrival is the same virtuous lifestyle.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Feast of Saint Andrew, apostle
(Romans 10:9-18; Matthew 4:18-22)
Although we know very little with certainty about St. Andrew, Catholics probably remember his feast day more than that of any other apostle. November 30 is etched in our minds because of its closeness to the beginning of Advent. The day does not really commence the season, but the Sunday closest to the date always is its beginning.
As Advent begins a new liturgical year, the call of Andrew begins a new chapter in Jesus’ life. Described more specifically in the Gospel according to John but indicated as well in today’s reading from Matthew, Andrew’s vocation marks the beginning of Jesus’ formation of disciples. He will eventually direct part of this entourage – his apostles -- to take his message to the ends of the earth. With this role, as the reading from St. Paul’s Letter to the Romans today indicates, apostles are instrumental to many people’s salvation. They also pay a stiff price for the honor. Tradition views each of the twelve apostles, with the possible exception of John, as martyrs. Andrew is said to have been martyred on an X-shaped cross.
At the beginning of Advent, the feast of St. Andrew anchors the Christ, whom we await at the end of time, to the historical Jesus. We are not to wait for him on our haunches but, like this apostle, by evangelizing with words of truth and deeds of mercy. The suffering that we may experience in doing so will give witness to Jesus’ Lordship over creation.
(Romans 10:9-18; Matthew 4:18-22)
Although we know very little with certainty about St. Andrew, Catholics probably remember his feast day more than that of any other apostle. November 30 is etched in our minds because of its closeness to the beginning of Advent. The day does not really commence the season, but the Sunday closest to the date always is its beginning.
As Advent begins a new liturgical year, the call of Andrew begins a new chapter in Jesus’ life. Described more specifically in the Gospel according to John but indicated as well in today’s reading from Matthew, Andrew’s vocation marks the beginning of Jesus’ formation of disciples. He will eventually direct part of this entourage – his apostles -- to take his message to the ends of the earth. With this role, as the reading from St. Paul’s Letter to the Romans today indicates, apostles are instrumental to many people’s salvation. They also pay a stiff price for the honor. Tradition views each of the twelve apostles, with the possible exception of John, as martyrs. Andrew is said to have been martyred on an X-shaped cross.
At the beginning of Advent, the feast of St. Andrew anchors the Christ, whom we await at the end of time, to the historical Jesus. We are not to wait for him on our haunches but, like this apostle, by evangelizing with words of truth and deeds of mercy. The suffering that we may experience in doing so will give witness to Jesus’ Lordship over creation.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Monday of the First Week in Advent
(Isaiah 4:2-6; Matthew 8:5-11)
Ask any professional about how to do a fund-raising campaign. She will tell you that personal appeal is all important. You have to ask people – face-to-face if at all possible – for money if you expect to reach your goal. The rule is, “If you do not ask for something, you will get nothing.
The centurion in the gospel today seems instinctively aware of the fundraising rule. Very directly he seeks Jesus’ help. What’s more remarkable here, however, is his faith in Jesus as Lord. He does not ask Jesus to come and treat his servant but only to give the order that the servant be healed. Only God with angels at His service would be able to effect a cure from a distance.
As the beginning of Advent, we are being called to imitate this centurion. First, we should not hesitate a moment to call upon Jesus with our needs – preferably person-to-person in the Eucharist. Maybe we seek the healing of someone like the centurion in the gospel or, perhaps, assistance in overcoming a personal challenge. Then we are to put complete faith in him. This does not mean that we expect an answer to our prayers explicitly as requested but that we know that he will take care of our need.
(Isaiah 4:2-6; Matthew 8:5-11)
Ask any professional about how to do a fund-raising campaign. She will tell you that personal appeal is all important. You have to ask people – face-to-face if at all possible – for money if you expect to reach your goal. The rule is, “If you do not ask for something, you will get nothing.
The centurion in the gospel today seems instinctively aware of the fundraising rule. Very directly he seeks Jesus’ help. What’s more remarkable here, however, is his faith in Jesus as Lord. He does not ask Jesus to come and treat his servant but only to give the order that the servant be healed. Only God with angels at His service would be able to effect a cure from a distance.
As the beginning of Advent, we are being called to imitate this centurion. First, we should not hesitate a moment to call upon Jesus with our needs – preferably person-to-person in the Eucharist. Maybe we seek the healing of someone like the centurion in the gospel or, perhaps, assistance in overcoming a personal challenge. Then we are to put complete faith in him. This does not mean that we expect an answer to our prayers explicitly as requested but that we know that he will take care of our need.
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