Today, as we’re celebrating the dedication of our Oratory I’m reposting this from our archives. The scripture reading at the vigil was from the first letter of St Peter:
“Be sure you are never spiteful, or deceitful, or hypocritical, or envious and critical of each other. You are new born, and, like babies, you should be hungry for nothing but milk – the spiritual honesty which will help you grow up to salvation – now that you have tasted the goodness of the Lord.”
Several things resonate with me in in. It’s reminder of how we are called to behave and to treat one another seems especially important just now. Living through stressful and challenging times can give us all a short fuse and doesn’t always bring out the best in us. St Peter reminds us that, whatever challenges and uncertainties we face we are called not to give into the temptation to spitefulness and criticism. The call is still to become more Christlike whatever we face.
He goes on to tell us that as we have tasted the goodness of the Lord already our desire and long should be for those things that will help us grow into our salvation. This brings to mind a favourite psalm, psalm 34, “taste and see that the Lord is good”, and I’m reminded to keep seeking the goodness of the Lord in whatever challenges and uncertainties life is currently throwing at us.
Where are you tasting the Lord’s goodness in these challenging times?
Category: Divine Office
Today, we celebrate All Souls Day which, despite the change in tone from one feast to another, is intimately connected to All Saints Day. At heart both feasts speak to the basic equality of Christian faith. We are all one in Christ, and through our baptism, we are all equal before him.
Today’s feast is a time for acknowledging our mortality. It gives us the opportunity to acknowledge that death is a completely natural part of life. It is something we all share in and will all experience. This is one of the areas where we are called to stand out against the world’s way. Today’s world denies death, pushing it aside or trying to micromanage it because of the pain, suffering and uncertainty it brings. Our faith calls us to look at death differently. It doesn’t call us to deny the pain and suffering, but to accept it and embrace it. We are also called to look beyond it, to the hope that Christ offers us.
This invitation and challenge is summed up for me in the prophet Isaiah’s words:
“The Lord will wipe away the tears from every cheek… That day, it will be said: see, this is our God in whom we hoped for salvation… We exalt and we rejoice that he has saved us.”
All Souls allows us to remember and grieve our loved ones. Yet, even as we grieve, it reminds us that the God of love will comfort and console us, offering us the promise of new life in God’s presence.
Where do you need God to comfort and console you today?
In today’s gospel Jesus stops the disciples turning away the children people are bring to him. He says:
“Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.”
The theme of becoming childlike has come up several times in recent gospels. I always think it’s worth revisiting something when that happens. My experience as a primary school teacher tells me that there are many things adults can learn from children.
Reflecting on this I was reminded of a thread on Twitter that I followed some time ago about vocation and contemplation. Part of the discussion centred on the question “what is contemplation?”, A question that can’t easily be answered and several interesting suggestions were put forward.
For me image of small children at play has always spoken of the essence of contemplation. Whenever children play their activity captures their whole attention and takes all their energy. They engage in play with their whole being, totally engrossed and caught up in the moment.
The call to discipleship is a call to give our whole attention to seeking and following Christ as St Paul reminds us in the letters to Hebrews saying:
“Let us not lose sight of Jesus who leads us in our faith and brings it to perfection…”
If we are to do as he suggests and keep our sights firmly on Jesus we need to give ourselves completely to whatever we are involved in with the same wholehearted attention that children bring to their play. If we are able to learn that skill, we will discover the presence of the kingdom in the midst of all our activities and all our interactions.
Where do you feel called to give your whole attention today?
From the archives for the feast of St Therese of Lisieux. Today we are celebrating the feast of St Therese of Lisieux. She’s often been presented with an overlay of sentimentality and sweetness that undermines her great spiritual wisdom and insight. She was a women of great faith, courage, determination and discernment. This morning we had a reading from her autobiography, where she describes some of her struggle with vocation and its resolution. Reflecting on St Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians:
“Love, in fact is the vocation which includes all others; it is a universe of its own, comprising all time and space – its eternal… My vocation is love… I had discovered where it is that I belong in the Church, the niche God has appointed for me. To be nothing else than love… That’s to be everything at once.”
Her realisation is the result of a deep and honest personal reflection. To reach it she must have paid attention to her deepest discontent as well as her deepest desires, searching the Scriptures to discover how God was leading her through both to discover and respond to God’s call. To go through that process requires great honesty and courage, it’s something we’re all called to.
St Therese’s discernment takes us right back to the very heart of our Christian call, the call to love. It’s a call that seems obvious, straightforward and simple. But, as St Therese herself could tell us the ups and downs of life soon shows us that the call to love is also costly, challenging and painful.
How is God calling you to discover the niche God has appointed for you?
Luke’s Beatitudes are challenging read. Unlike Matthew, whose focus is on the spiritual attributes of the Beatitudes, Luke links them much more to the grim material reality of poverty and hunger. For those of us who live materially comfortable lives it gives them a stark urgency, showing us precisely how different the values of the kingdom are from our human values.
Almost everything he lists as blessed, we would choose to call cursed, and vice versa. His words remind me that if we are to follow Christ we have to choose to live by values that are not the world’s. We have to be prepared both to rock the boat and to live with the consequences of that:
“Happy are you when people hate you, drive you out, abuse you, denounce your name as criminal on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice when that day comes and dance for joy, for then your reward will be great in heaven.”
They have particular resonance as we face a cost of living crisis that is driving many more people into poverty. It seems to me that they call us question a status quo that leaves so many unable to meet their most basic needs while others, including ourselves, have so much more than needed.
They call us to look hard at our own lives, the choices we make and how they impact on other people. Their concern with the material reality of life remained us that the call to build the kingdom is not just about our heavenly future. It is a call to do all we can to make it possible for everybody have the material basics they need to live life with dignity.
How are you allowing the challenge of the Beatitudes to shape the choices you make in daily life?
Today were celebrating the Birthday of Our Lady, a solemnity for our congregation. It’s the anniversary of the day I entered the monastery, so it carries a certain resonance for me, and I often find myself looking back to that day.
So I was especially struck by these words from our first reading at Mass:
“We know that for those who love God, everything works together for good…” (Romans 8:28)
These are not the words of Scripture that would have come to mind on the day I entered. I can see the truth in them with hindsight but, I’m not sure I could have seen it on that day of mixed and sometimes conflicting emotions. The reality of the hope that they express is central to our faith, yet it is very easily pushed to one side as soon as we struggle with the challenging realities of life.
When I think of Mary I imagine that she too experienced mixed and conflicting emotions as she faced the consequences of the “yes” that changed the world for all of us. Yet, she is still able to trust and rejoice in God’s great goodness:
“I exult for joy in the Lord, my soul rejoices in my God!”
Her words offer me hope and encouragement that seem particularly important in our unsettled times. She reminds me that, unlikely as it may seem, we are loved and held by God. Whatever we face, whatever we suffer, the God of love will be there, not necessarily to remove the suffering, but to hold and support us as we face it.
Where are you being reminded of the presence of the God of love in your life today?
Today we’re celebrating the feast of St Gregory the Great. The gospel poses the question at the heart of Christian life. Jesus asks his disciples what people are saying about him. It highlights Jesus’ humanity, like all of us he wonders what people think of him, and how much impact his message is having them. He gets a varied response from the disciples. Some people say he’s John the Baptist, or Elijah, Jeremiah or one of the prophets. Brushing this mixed bag aside he asks the disciples:
“But you…who do you say I am?”
This question moves the discussion to a deeper level. Directed, not to the crowds who hear him in the market place or synagogue, but to the people who left everything to follow him. It requires a deeper response than the comments the disciples have passed on. I can imagine the silence that fell as the disciples realised this and pondered their response. As usual it is Simon Peter who has the courage to break that silence as he says:
“You are the Christ…, the Son of the living God.”
As the rest of the passage unfolds we see how life changing this response is for Peter, and for St Gregory the Great. It’s left me pondering my own response to the question. Yet, each time it arises it has the potential to be life changing for us too. Whenever it comes up we’re called to give it our whole attention so that we, like Peter and St Gregory, can answer it from the depths of our hearts.
Who do you say Christ is today?
We can easily forget or brush aside the real challenge at the heart of the gospel. Centuries of familiarity and tradition have removed most of the shock that Jesus’ first followers would have felt when they heard his words. Today’s gospel brings us back to just how shocking his teaching was, and still is if we allow ourselves to really hear it. In today’s gospel Jesus has challenged his listeners so much that they say to themselves:
“This is intolerable language. How could anyone accept it?”
At that point many of them left and stopped following him. Faced with their departure Jesus does nothing to tone his message down. In his conversation with his disciples he even seems to increase the challenge asking them:
“What about you, do you want to go away too?”
He gives the Twelve complete freedom to walk away like the others. Having learned something of his teaching, each of them has to face and answer his question for themselves. It’s the same question that each of us has to face and answer.
Simon Peter’s answer sums up the situation for all of us. Turning the question round he says:
“Lord, who shall we go to? You have the message of eternal life, and we believe, we know you are the Holy One of God.”
His response brings us to the heart of our faith. Once we’ve recognised Jesus as the “holy one of God” however challenging it is to walk with him it becomes inconceivable to walk away from him.
What helps you to stay with Christ even in the challenging times of life?
From the archives for the feast of St Bartholomew. I’m reflecting on Jesus’ encounter with Nathanael. It’s clear that the encounter was as life changing as it was unexpected for Nathanial. He is somewhat underwhelmed with Phillips’ news that the expected Messiah is from Nazareth, questioning whether anything good can come from that place.
However, despite this uncertainty, he is unable to resist Phillips’ invitation to “come and see” for himself. It’s this openness and willingness to take a risk that enables him to be embrace the life changing encounter that follows. When he does come to Jesus it is with a question:
“How do you know me?“
Jesus’ answer seems commonplace enough:
‘I saw you under the fig tree.’
Yet it is this apparently ordinary answer that enabled him to put aside his doubts and recognise the long-awaited Messiah: “
“Rabbi, you are the Son of God, you are the King of Israel.’
The passage makes me aware of how we long to be known and accepted as we really are. We long to recognise Christ in our lives, and for him to recognise us. It is both comforting and challenging to discover that Christ knows us better than we know ourselves.
It’s comforting because it means that with Jesus I can be completely myself, without pretence, knowing that I will be accepted completely as I am. It’s challenging because of the things that I would rather keep hidden, those times when I don’t live up to my best self, that Jesus invites me to bring out into the open, into the light of his love.
Where is Christ surprising you with his presence today?
Some thoughts on fairness and generosity from our archives: Today’s gospel is all about fairness and generosity. At the beginning of the day a landowner goes out to hire workers for his vineyard, offering them a fair price for the day’s work. He goes out again several times later in the day, right up to the 11th hour, and still finding idle workers sends them to his vineyard offering them “a fair wage”.
At the end of the day he tells his bailiff to pay all the workers the same amount, starting with the ones who came last. This causes some consternation to those who have been working all day, and they grumble that it’s not fair as they have worked longer and should receive more. They evoke our sympathy because we all know what it feels like to be treated unfairly. Yet, the vineyard owner takes a different view, saying to them:
“My friend, I am not being unjust to you; did we not agree on one denarius?… Why be envious because I am generous?
His words turn the situation on its head, challenging his workers, and us, to look at it from a different perspective. He calls us to look at our motivations and to acknowledge that there can be a thin line between our desire for fairness and envy. His generous action points out that generosity is a hallmark of the Kingdom. It compels us to reflect on where we can be generous towards those around us with both our material goods and our time.
Where is Christ calling you to act generously today?