Month: September 2024

The Parable of the White Birds and Black Birds

Tierno Bokar was a Sufi wise man who lived in Mali, in West Africa, early last century. He liked teaching with stories.

In his Parable of the White Birds and Black Birds, he taught that a good thought is always better than a bad one, even when thinking about your enemies. And the best thing you can do is to pray for your enemies.

‘Why?’ asked one student. ‘Don’t we look stupid praying for our enemies?’

‘Only in the eyes of those who don’t understand,’ Tierno replied. ‘We wrong ourselves more by speaking ill of our enemies than by blessing them.’

He then told the story of the White Birds and Black Birds.

People are like walls facing each other, he said. Like a dovecote, each wall is full of holes where white birds and black birds nest. The black birds are bad thoughts and bad words. The white birds are good thoughts and good words.

Because of their different sizes, the white birds can only nest in white-bird holes. The black birds can only enter their own black-bird holes.

Now, imagine that two men, Yousef and Ali, are enemies. One day, Yousef thinks Ali is wishing him evil. Yousef gets angry about it and sends Ali a nasty thought.

How does he send that nasty thought? By releasing a black bird from its nesting hole in his wall. That black bird flies towards Ali, carrying that bad thought along with it. That bird then looks for an empty hole in Ali’s wall where it can leave it.

But if Ali hasn’t had any bad thoughts, he won’t have any empty holes. All his black birds will still be at home resting. And when Yousef’s bird finds nowhere to stop, it will have to return home to its own nest, taking the evil thought back with it.

That evil thought will then start festering in Yousef’s own wall, slowly eroding and destroying it. Why? It’s because evil is like acid – it always eats away at whatever it touches.

But if Ali had had a bad thought, he would then have an empty hole where Yousef’s bird could leave his evil thought. That evil would then start eroding Ali’s wall.

In the meantime, Ali’s black bird would have flown towards Yousef and the empty hole left in his wall.

The two black birds would then have achieved their goal: each depositing something nasty in the opposite wall. But again, evil is like acid, so each wall would slowly start to disintegrate.

Once their job is done, the birds always return to their original nest because, it is said, ‘Everything returns to its source.’

But the evil is not exhausted – there’s always some left – so each black bird takes some back to its own nest. That evil then turns against their authors and gradually eats away at them, too.

The author of a nasty thought, a bad wish or an ill-spoken word is therefore attacked by both the enemy’s black bird and his own when it returns to him.

Now, it’s the same with the white birds.

If we only ever think good thoughts about our enemy, while the enemy only thinks bad thoughts about us, the enemy’s black birds won’t find anywhere to stop in our wall and will return to its sender.

And the white birds we send carrying good thoughts – if our enemy has nowhere to receive them, they will simply return to us, charged with all the positive energy they’re carrying.

Thus – and this is the point – if we only ever emit good thoughts, no evil, no ill-spoken words can ever touch us, because we’re not open to them.

That’s why we should always pray for blessings for both our friends and our enemies. Not only might the good thought reach its destination, but it also always comes back to us carrying its positive energy (Mk.4:20). [i]

Why do I share this story with you? It’s because in Mark’s Gospel today, Jesus says that whoever thinks, says or does something nice for someone else – even as little as offering them a glass of water – will be rewarded.

That’s because the good you do always comes back to you.

But whoever does the opposite, whoever does something nasty towards someone else – even if it’s only a bad thought – will suffer for it.

Why? It’s because evil is like acid. It eats away at whatever it touches.

And everything always returns to its source.

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[i] https://www.themathesontrust.org/papers/islam/Teaching%20Stories%20from%20Tierno%20Bokar.pdf

Being Different

(Wis.2:12,17-20; Jas.3:16-4.3; Mk.9:30-37)

Most people don’t like being different. They’d rather fit in than stand out from the crowd.

That’s because our society values sameness. It loves the familiar. Early in life, we all learn that if you’re too different you’ll be teased, ridiculed or excluded in some way. So, most of us try hard to fit in, and we do this by adopting the fashions and culture of the time.

This is what got Peter into trouble in last week’s Gospel. He objected to Jesus talking about His coming death and resurrection, and Jesus replied, ‘Get behind me Satan! You’re thinking not as God does, but as humans do.’

Peter was shocked. He had been taught that success is all about ambition, power and putting yourself first. That’s what our world teaches us today, too, but God doesn’t think like we do (Is.55:8-9).

In today’s Gospel, Jesus again talks about his coming Passion, but none of his disciples hears or understands Him. Instead, they argue about which of them is the greatest.

So, Jesus tells them straight: if you want to be My disciple, you must be different. If you want to be first, then put yourself last. If you want to achieve greatness, then make yourself small. And if you want to become masters, then humble yourself by becoming the servant of others.

All this is very counter-cultural.

To emphasise His message, Jesus places a little child in among His disciples, and tells them that it’s time to stop worrying about themselves. Instead, they should focus on the little ones – the most vulnerable in society, because that’s how you welcome the Messiah and the Father who sent Him.

Many people are puzzled at this point. To develop a good spiritual life, they wonder, must I give up everything and turn my back on the world?

The answer is no.

Consider this story. There was once an old monk who prayed for years for a vision from God to strengthen his faith, but it never came. He had almost given up hope when one day a vision appeared. The old monk was overjoyed.

But then, right in the middle of his vision, the monastery bell rang. That bell meant it was time to feed the poor who came to the monastery gate each day.

It was this old monk’s turn to feed them. If he didn’t show up, those poor people would leave, thinking that the monastery had nothing for them. He was torn between his earthly duty and his heavenly vision.

But, before the bell stopped ringing, he decided. With a heavy heart, he left the vision and went to feed the poor.

An hour later, the monk returned to his room. When he opened the door, he could hardly believe his eyes. The vision was still there, waiting for him. As the monk dropped to his knees in thanksgiving, the vision said to him, ‘My son, had you not gone off to feed the poor, I would not have stayed.’ [i]

The message here is that if you want divine inspiration, if you want spiritual joy, the best thing you can do is to serve God by helping someone else.

In today’s second reading, St James says there are two kinds of wisdom. The first is worldly wisdom, but embedded deep inside it are jealousy and ambition, which simply cause misery. 

The second kind of wisdom, however, comes from above. It comes from God. This wisdom is pure and genuine, and it brings peace. It’s kindly, considerate and full of compassion, and it’s only concerned with doing good.

How do we get some of this wisdom? St James tells us: by praying, and by being different. By understanding that it’s time to stop trying to be like everyone else.

By accepting that if you want to be first, then make sure that you’re last of all and servant of all.

Statue of William and Charles Mayo

Let’s close with a little story. In 1914, Dr Charles Mayo started the famous Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota with his father and brother. At one time, a group of European medical experts were guests at Dr Mayo’s home.

Following the custom of the day, the guests placed their shoes outside their bedroom doors to be polished during the night. Dr Charles was the last to retire. As he went to his room he noticed the shoes.

It was too late to wake the servants, so with a sigh he gathered up all the footwear, took them into the kitchen and spent half the night polishing them. [ii]

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[i] Michael Hayes, Homilies for the Whole Community, Year B, Twenty-Third Publications, New London CT, 2005:158-159.

[ii] Gerard Fuller, Stories for All Seasons, Twenty-Third Publications, Mystic CT, 1997:83-84.

A Lively Faith

(Is.50:4c-9a; Jam.2:14-18; Mk.8:27-35)

Have you ever tried to buy a drink from a vending machine, only to find the can empty?

Or bought another product at a supermarket, only to find the package contained nothing but air?

This is essentially what St James is talking about in our second reading today. He’s talking about people who claim to have faith, but never actually do anything about it. And he asks the question: is faith alone enough to get you into heaven? Or should that faith lead to good works of some kind?

There were huge arguments about this issue at the time of the Protestant Reformation. They called it Sola Fide (‘by faith alone’), and it’s no less relevant today because many people think of themselves as Christian – they might even go to church – but it has no practical effect on the way they live their lives.

Indeed, one man I knew used to loudly and publicly proclaim his Christian faith, while privately he was often callous, and sometimes even cruel, towards others. He thought that just believing in Jesus was enough to earn his salvation.

In 2014, Pope Francis said that understanding God’s commandments and church doctrine is useless if these truths aren’t put into practice. ‘A faith without bearing fruit in life, a faith that doesn’t bear fruit in works is not faith,’ he said.

‘You may know all the commandments, all the prophesies, all the truths of the faith, but if this isn’t put into practice, if it’s not translated into works, it serves nothing.’

As St James says, even the demons know the Creed, but that doesn’t mean they have true faith.

‘Having faith isn’t having knowledge,’ the pope said. Rather, it’s ‘receiving God’s message’ as brought by Christ. For ‘Faith is an encounter with Jesus Christ, with God,’ and it always leads to action of some kind. [i]

In 2008, Pope Benedict XVI described faith as ‘looking at Christ, entrusting oneself to Christ, being united to Christ, conformed to Christ, to his life. And the form, the life of Christ, is love; hence to believe is to conform to Christ and to enter into his love.’ [ii]

True faith, therefore, can never be static, because real love (which is the Spirit of God Himself) is never static. It’s meant to keep flowing, nourishing all around.

Richard Leonard puts it this way: ‘Christian Witness has two component parts, one much more important than the other: what we say and what we do.

‘For all the complexities of philosophy and theology, the Christian message is quite simple: to be a follower of Jesus, we have to love God, love our neighbour, and love ourselves.’ [iii]

Our faith, then, is not something that can be confined to our heads, for love is not just a theory or an idea. Love is a verb, an action that is born of life and that leads to life.

Our Christian faith stems from and is directed towards Jesus who is love itself. Its rightful home is deep in our hearts, and our response must always be an active, lively faith.

As St James says, ‘For just as the body without the spirit is dead, so also faith without works is dead’ (Jas.2:26).

Let’s close with some wisdom from Peter Kreeft, who says that the life of faith is a river that must keep flowing.

‘We are meant to be like the Sea of Galilee, not the Dead Sea,’ he says.

‘The same water, the Jordan River, flows into the Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea. But the Sea of Galilee is still alive with fish and fishermen today, two thousand years after Jesus was there, while the Dead Sea lives up to its name: it’s dead; no fish can live in it.

‘Why? It’s because the Sea of Galilee not only receives the fresh water of the Jordan River at its inlet, but it also gives it away at its outlet, where it flows south to the Dead Sea. The Dead Sea has an inlet and no outlet (because it’s at the lowest point on earth). That’s why its waters are dead.

‘That’s true of souls as well as rivers.

‘And that’s the difference between spiritual life and spiritual death.’ [iv]

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[i] https://www.ncronline.org/blogs/francis-chronicles/pope-professing-faith-without-good-works-just-spouting-hot-air

[ii] https://www.vatican.va/content/benedict-xvi/en/audiences/2008/documents/hf_ben-xvi_aud_20081119.html

[iii] Richard Leonard, What Does it all Mean? Paulist Press, Mahwah NJ, 2017:184.

[iv] Peter Kreeft, Food for the Soul – Year B, Word on Fire, Elk Grove Village IL, 2023:685.

Ephphatha Moments

(Deut.4:1-2, 6-8; Jas.1:17-18, 21b-22, 27; Mk.7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23)

In our noisy and crowded world, it can be hard to find the peace we need to engage with our deeper, spiritual selves.

This is why we often yearn to withdraw to somewhere quiet for rest, reflection and healing. It’s a natural desire, and it’s reflected in Mark’s Gospel today.

Jesus is in Gentile territory, and a man who is deaf and cannot speak is brought to Him for healing. Jesus could have cured the man then and there, but instead He takes him to a quiet place where He gives him His undivided attention.

Jesus touches the man’s ears and tongue, and helps him feel what he cannot hear or say. Then in Aramaic Jesus says, ‘Ephphatha!’ – ‘Be opened!’ The man’s ears, lips – and his heart – are all opened, and his life is transformed.

Thankfully, most of us have little trouble with our eyes, ears and speech. However, today’s Gospel does raise the question of how well we use these gifts. Can we see as Jesus sees? Can we hear as He hears? And can we speak as Jesus speaks? Or is there room for improvement?

In 2012, Pope Benedict XVI spoke about this. He said, ‘…we all know that closure of man, his isolation, does not solely depend on the sense organs. There is an inner closing, which covers the deepest core of the person, what the Bible calls the “heart.”

‘That is what Jesus came to “open,” to liberate, to enable us to fully live our relationship with God and with others. That is why… this little word, “Ephphatha – Be opened,” sums up Christ’s entire mission.

Pope Benedict continues: ‘Jesus became man so that man, made inwardly deaf and dumb by sin, would become able to hear the voice of God, the voice of love speaking to his heart, and learn to speak in the language of love, to communicate with God and with others.’ [i]

What so many of us struggle with, then, isn’t so much our eyes, ears or speech, but our hardened hearts (Mt.13:13-15). It’s our stony hearts that hold us back.

Like Pharaoh and the Pharisees, many of us tend to be too concerned about ourselves, too disinterested in others, and too distant from God. This is what St James is talking about in today’s second reading.

It’s also what Jesus wants to heal.

Today, Jesus is offering us our own Ephphatha Moment. But what is an Ephphatha Moment? It’s a personal encounter with Jesus Himself. It’s a mystical and grace-filled moment when Jesus gently touches us and speaks to us in some way.

When this happens, our heart softens and we are surprised to find ourselves seeing and hearing new things, and even speaking in new ways.

Through the ages, many people have had Ephphatha Moments. St Paul had one on his journey to Damascus. That’s when Jesus confronted him, asking: ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?’ That question went straight to Paul’s heart and it led to him becoming one of the greatest of saints.

St Augustine also had an Ephphatha Moment. His stony heart had been stifling his search for spiritual growth. However, after visiting St Ambrose, the bishop of Milan, his heart began to soften and then he overheard a child say, ‘take up and read.’ He looked around, saw a Bible and started reading it. The experience totally transformed his life. [ii]

Thomas Merton had also struggled to find his spiritual self. After a fruitless search of Eastern traditions, he experienced his own Ephphatha Moment when a Hindu Monk said to him: ‘There are many beautiful mystical books written by the Christians. You should read St Augustine’s Confessions and The Imitation of Christ.’ He read those books. They opened his heart and he became a Catholic mystic and best-selling author. [iii]

The Sacrament of Baptism includes an Ephphatha Rite in which the minister touches the person’s ear and mouth, and says, ‘The Lord Jesus made the deaf hear and the dumb speak. May he soon touch your ears to receive his word and your mouth to proclaim his faith, to the praise and glory of God the Father.’

This is such a beautiful blessing, but unfortunately many of us have become deaf and blind to our spiritual selves because of our sin, selfishness and stony hearts.

How, then, might you experience your own Ephphatha Moment? By carving out some quiet time and space for yourself, and asking Jesus to whisper ‘Ephphatha’ into your soul.  

Be patient; Jesus doesn’t always respond immediately. But ask Him to open up your heart so that you may see, hear and speak, just as he does.

For an open heart is the way to healing, holiness and hope.

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[i] Pope Benedict XVI, Angelus Address, 9 September 2012, https://www.vatican.va/content/benedict-xvi/en/angelus/2012/documents/hf_ben-xvi_ang_20120909.html

[ii] St Augustine of Hippo, Confessions, Penguin Books, London, 1961.

[iii] Thomas Merton, The Seven Storey Mountain, Harcourt, NY, 1998.