Year B – 31st Sunday in Ordinary Time

The Golden Rule

(Deut.6:2-6; Heb.7:23-28; Mk.12:28-34)

With so much violence and war around our world today, it’s worth remembering that the call to love our neighbour is actually universal.

They express it differently, but all the major religions – Christianity, Islam, Hinduism and Judaism – share the same Golden Rule to love your neighbour.[i]

It’s there again in today’s Gospel, where Jesus spells out his two greatest commandments. The first, he says, is to love our Lord God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength. And the second is to love your neighbour as yourself.

‘There’s no greater commandment than these,’ he says.

With these few words, Jesus has summarised the entire Bible and the essence of the Christian life. But why does he mention two commandments instead of one? It’s because loving God and loving our neighbour are two sides of the same life-giving coin (1Jn.4:7-8).

St Basil the Great used to say that we can only love our fellow human beings because we love God first. If we don’t love God, he said, we will never be open to enemies and strangers. And the only way we can fully express our love for God is by loving our neighbour who he created in his own image and likeness.

This is Jesus’ Great Commandment, which is also often called the Golden Rule because it sets the gold standard for how to live our lives. St James called it the Royal Law (Jas.2:8) because Jesus is our king, and love is the first law of his kingdom.

But whatever its name, the call to love our neighbour remains universal. And yet, so many people seem to ignore it these days. Perhaps they don’t know who their neighbours are, or they simply don’t know how to love. 

When he was the Archbishop of Milan, Pope St Paul VI spelt out the neighbours we should love. He said, ‘Let us love those nearby and those afar; love our own country and those others; love our friends and enemies; love Catholics, schismatics, Protestants, Anglicans, the indifferent; love Moslems, pagans, atheists; love members of all social classes, particularly those in most need of help and support; love children; love the old, the poor and the sick; love those who deride or despise us, obstruct or persecute us; love those who deserve love and those who do not; love our adversaries – we want no man as our enemy …’

‘Let us love and try to understand, esteem, appreciate, serve and suffer for (them),’ he continued. ‘Let us love (them) with the heart of Christ.’ [ii]

And how might we love with the heart of Christ? St Thérèse of Lisieux tells us in her autobiography, The Story of a Soul.

She found one nun in her convent particularly irritating. ‘The devil was mixed up in it,’ she wrote, ‘for he made me see so many disagreeable traits in her.’

St Therese of Lisieux

However, Therese did not want to give in to her natural dislike for this nun, so she told herself that charity isn’t just about feelings, but should also show itself in deeds.

She decided to do for this sister what she would have done for someone she loved.

Every time Thérèse met her, she prayed for this sister and she praised God for all her virtues and merits. She was sure this would delight Jesus, because every artist likes to have his works praised.  

As well, Thérèse tried to do as many things for her as she could, and whenever she was tempted to speak unpleasantly to her, she gave her a pleasant smile and tried to change the subject.

And when she found herself violently tempted by the devil, she slipped away quietly, like a soldier deserting the battlefield.

After all this, one day that sister asked Thérèse: ‘Please tell me what attracts you so much to me. You give me such a lovely smile whenever we meet.’

Thérèse answers this question in her book: ‘It was Jesus hidden in the depth of her soul who attracted me, for Jesus makes the bitterest things sweet!’ [iii]

And that’s the point. That’s why Jesus has given us his Golden Rule in two parts: that we must love both God and our neighbour.

As St Basil the Great said all those years ago – we cannot truly love God without also loving his Creation, which includes all our neighbours.

And we really cannot love our neighbours until we start recognising Jesus’ presence within them.


[i] In Islam, the Qur’an says, ‘Serve Allah… do good to your parents, to kinsfolk, to orphans, to the needy, to neighbours who are near and far, to the companion by your side, to the wayfarer… (Qur’an 4:36).

The Hindu tradition says, ‘This is the sum of duty. Do not unto others that which would cause you pain if done to you’ (Mahabharata 5,1517).

In Judaism, it’s ‘Love your neighbour as yourself – I am the Lord (Lev.19:18).

[ii] Cardinal Montini, quoted in Robert Morneau, A New Heart, Orbis Books, Maryknoll, NY, 1970:37.

[iii] St Thérèse of Lisieux, The Story of a Soul, https://lci-goroka.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/saint-therese-of-lisieux-story-of-a-soul-the-autobiography.pdf

Year B – 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Layers of Blindness

(Jer.31:7-9; Heb.5:1-6; Mk.10:46-52)

It’s said that there’s none so blind as they who will not see.

At school I needed glasses, but foolishly I refused to wear them. Thankfully, I’m now one of some 10 million sensible Australians who wear glasses or contact lenses.

Our eyesight is such a precious gift; we often take it for granted. But having good eyesight doesn’t always mean we see well, for there are many kinds of blindness, and sometimes that blindness comes in layers.

A California eye doctor once removed 23 layers of contact lenses from an elderly woman. She had forgotten to remove the previous contact lenses before using a new one. As her vision deteriorated, she tried to fix it by adding more lenses. Fortunately, no permanent damage was done.

Captain Edward Smith had a different kind of blindness. He refused to believe the Titanic was in trouble until water was ankle-deep in his mailroom. His blindness meant that he wasted time getting help, and hundreds of people died needlessly.

‘What we see depends on what we’re looking for,’ John Lubbock once wrote. ‘Looking at the same field, farmers will notice the crops, geologists will see fossils, botanists will see flowers, and artists will see colours. We might all look at the same things, but we won’t always see the same things.’ [i]

In today’s Gospel, Bartimaeus is blind, perhaps with acute conjunctivitis – it was common in those times. He’s in Jericho, sitting by the roadside on his cloak, begging. As Jesus walks by with a crowd of disciples, Bartimaeus calls out, ‘Son of David, have pity on me!’

Now, I wonder if you noticed some things in this story.

Firstly, did you notice that Jesus doesn’t actually call Bartimaeus himself?  He gets his disciples to call him. We should remember this, because Jesus doesn’t always contact us directly. He often works through other people.

Secondly, did you see how Jesus responds to Bartimaeus? Rather than asking, ‘What do you want?’ he asks, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ This is the same question Jesus asked his disciples James and John in last week’s Gospel. He doesn’t guess what’s in our hearts. He wants us to talk with him personally, to tell him what we need.

And did you notice what the crowd does? They try to keep Bartimaeus quiet, to keep him away from Jesus. This often happens today.

In subtle and not-so-subtle ways, many people are trying to suppress our Christian faith. They don’t like us following or even talking about Jesus. Indeed, they’d like to banish Jesus altogether. So, they ridicule, they criticise and they even push for laws that undermine our Christian beliefs and practices. In some places, too, Christians are actively persecuted.

But Bartimaeus won’t be put off. He ignores the crowd and keeps calling for Jesus. And when he’s given his chance, he throws off his cloak, he jumps up and goes to Jesus.

Now, this is a significant act.

The Rich Young Man in Mark’s Gospel (10:17-31) was too scared to let go of his possessions to follow Jesus. But not Bartimaeus. His cloak is all he has. He uses it to collect coins, to sleep in and to protect himself. And yet, he’s prepared to toss it aside for his new life with Jesus. It’s a powerful symbol.

So, what about you? What’s holding you back from really seeing Jesus? Is it your obsessions? Or laziness? Or fear? Can you let these things go?

Bartimaeus knows he’s blind. But what about you? Lots of people today have blind-spots but don’t know it, for there are layers of blindness.

There’s emotional blindness, moral blindness and cultural blindness. There’s also spiritual blindness, which is much more common than physical blindness. Many people are blind to God’s Creation. They’re blind to Jesus’ love and compassion. They’re blind to the suffering and injustice that surrounds them. 

In his song, ‘Blowing in the Wind,’ Bob Dylan asks:

‘…how many times can a man turn his head, and pretend that he just doesn’t see? The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind, the answer is blowing in the wind.’

In 1997, Pope St John Paul II said that this wind is the Holy Spirit. It’s blowing right now, and it’s leading us to Christ.

When Bartimaeus says, ‘I want to see,’ Jesus heals him and he begins a brand-new life.

Why not do the same?

Tell Jesus that you really want to see.


[i] John Lubbock, The Beauties of Nature and the Wonders of the World We Live in, McMillan, London, 1892. https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/28274/pg28274-images.html

Year B – 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time

The Cup of Greatness

(Is.53:10-11; Heb.4:14-16; Mk.10:35-45)

Some people love priming their own egos. They crave the recognition that comes from winning trophies and titles.

We saw this recently in Mark’s Gospel (9:30-37), where Jesus’ disciples were caught arguing about which of them was the greatest.

And today, James and John ask Jesus if they can sit to his left and right – places of great honour – when he returns to heaven. For them, these are prize seats, the equivalent of winning the cup of greatness.

But Jesus responds by talking about a very different kind of cup. ‘You don’t know what you’re asking for,’ he says. ‘Can you drink from the cup that I must drink? Can you be baptised with the baptism with which I must be baptised?’

‘Yes,’ they reply, but really they don’t understand what he’s saying.

In Scripture, the word ‘cup’ often refers to our lives, which can be filled with many different things. Our cup can be filled with blessings (Ps.23:5) or salvation (Ps.116:13). It can be filled with desolation (Ezek.23:33) or God’s fury (Is.51:17). And it can be filled with suffering and trials (Ps.75.8; Is.51:17).

At Gethsemane, Jesus prays, ‘Father, if it’s possible, take this cup away from me’ (Mt.26:39). Sadly, this cup is not taken away, and he dies a painful death. But then Jesus returns to new life, and that’s why he also calls his suffering his baptism, for baptism always leads to new life.

Now, in the Mass, whenever we are offered the Precious Blood with the words, ‘The Blood of Christ,’ we are in effect being asked the same question that Jesus asked his disciples: ‘Can you drink the cup that I must drink?’ Our reply ‘Amen,’ in effect means ‘yes, I will follow you, Jesus. I will be wine poured out for others.’

And when at Communion we are offered the Body of Christ, our reply ‘Amen’ means ‘yes, I will follow you, Jesus. I will be bread broken for others.’

This is a radical commitment. The Holy Eucharist is not meant to be received passively. It’s a gift that nourishes and strengthens us to live like Jesus himself.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus says, ‘anyone who wants to become great among you must be your servant.’ What kind of servant is that?

In the 1700s, the English Archbishop Thomas Secker said that God has three kinds of servants in this world. The first are the slaves who serve him out of fear. The second are the hirelings who serve him because they are paid.

And the third are God’s sons and daughters who serve him because they are filled with love. This is the kind of servanthood we are called to.

Mother Teresa was such a servant; she was absolutely filled with love.

In Calcutta one day, she rescued a woman who was covered in festering sores and crawling insects. As she quietly cleaned and dressed her wounds, the woman shrieked and swore and insulted her. Then she asked, ‘Sister, why do you do this? Not everyone behaves like you. Who taught you?’

Mother Teresa replied, ‘My God taught me.’

The woman said she wanted to know her God. Mother Teresa kissed her on the forehead and said, ‘You know my God. My God is called love.’

Recently I heard another story about selfless love. A young boy had burns to 85% of his body. He was saved by his parents, three doctors and three nurses, but the nurses were the real heroes.

Dressed in caps, gowns, masks and gloves, they stayed with him every day, working 8-hour shifts around the clock, helping him through operations, skin grafts and other critical procedures.

The boy came to hate these nurses and he blamed them for his pain, but they kept working. The room was small, hot and cramped, and it smelt of chlorine and burnt flesh. But they stayed with him. Then one day, after 14 months, he started to walk again.

Their love saved his life. It was tough, but they said they’d do it again if they had to.

Each of us is called to greatness, but not the worldly kind.

The cup of greatness Jesus invites us to drink may seem like a bitter drop, but as St Terese of Lisieux once said, ‘I’ve always found his bitter chalice full of sweetness… Your lot is indeed a beautiful one, since Our Lord has chosen it for you, and has first touched with his own lips the cup which he holds out to yours.’

When you next come forward for the Holy Eucharist, remember that it’s your invitation to be transformed, to become bread broken for others.

And to become wine poured out for others, just like Jesus himself.

Year B – 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time

The Secret to Eternal Life

(Wis.7:7-11; Heb.4:12-13; Mk.10:17-30)

Most people don’t like the idea of dying; they would much rather live forever.

That is why so many pharaohs, philosophers and alchemists through the ages tried searching for the secret to eternal life.

The Greek historian Herodotus once wrote about a fountain of youth someone had found in Africa. Alexander the Great looked for it, but he died young, aged only 32.

In China, the emperor Qin asked his doctors for a potion to prolong his life. They gave him mercury pills, but they turned out to be poisonous.

And today, some scientists are experimenting with cryogenic freezing and rejuvenating body cells. However, all this fascination with immortality ignores the eternal life that Jesus talks about in Mark’s Gospel today.

A rich young man has decided that he’d like to live forever, so he approaches Jesus, asking: ‘Master, what must I do to earn eternal life?’

Jesus replies, ‘Sell all you have, give the money to the poor and come follow me, for then you’ll have treasure in heaven.’

That price is much too high, the young man thinks, and he goes away sad. He just can’t let go of his possessions.

About 250 years later, St Anthony of Egypt heard this story. He was another rich young man but his response was very different.

Anthony and his sister were raised on a large estate near present-day Cairo. Their parents died when Anthony was 20, and he inherited their wealth.

However, he actually listened to Jesus, and like St Francis of Assisi after him, he sold everything.

He gave the money to the poor, leaving just enough to support his younger sister. Then he became the disciple of a monk, learning how to live a life of poverty, prayer and meditation. He also supported himself by working as a swineherd.

Over the next 15 years, Anthony suffered many physical and spiritual hardships, but he overcame them and then he moved into an abandoned Roman fort deep in the desert.

He loved his solitude, but other hermits heard about him and started moving into nearby caves and huts. They begged him to share his wisdom and holiness, and to be their spiritual guide.

At first Anthony refused, but later he agreed. And when the other monks finally met him, they expected that he’d look hungry and emaciated, but he actually looked fine, in both mind and body. 

Anthony taught and organised these monks, and he supported victims of Roman persecution. But deep down he yearned for a quiet life of prayer, and after six years he moved again, spending his last 45 years in a desert cave.

Emperor Constantine once wrote to St Anthony, asking for his prayers. He wrote back, telling the emperor and his sons not to put their faith in this world but to remember the next.

St Anthony tempted by gold

Today, St Anthony of Egypt is remembered as the father of Christian monasticism. And we know that he achieved everlasting life, not because of his money or talents, but because he faithfully followed Jesus. 

Today, many people would like to know the secret to eternal life. Well, it’s not by preserving our bodies in dry ice or uploading our minds to a technological cloud. It’s by listening to Jesus who today gives us three simple steps to follow:

Firstly, keep God’s commandments. This is how you start building a life of love, focussed on God and your neighbour – because love is what it’s all about.

Secondly, be prepared to give up your possessions, your pleasure, your power and your pride. These are all empty distractions that steal your time and drain your energy. Jesus is not expecting you to live in poverty, but he does want you to let go of your false gods. He wants your life to be much simpler.

And thirdly, learn to follow Jesus himself. Give your heart to Jesus. Allow him to guide you and fill you with his graces. Let Jesus shape your life.

It has been said that we are all on the train of life, hurtling towards our destination at what seems an ever-increasing speed.

But most people don’t seem to give any thought as to where this train is heading. Why? Are we so preoccupied with the baggage, the amusements and the distractions along the way that we don’t have time to think?

Or could it be that, like the young man who approached Jesus, we’ve found it too risky to ask such questions?’ [i]

Today, it’s time to stop being tranquillised by the trivial, and start remembering our immortal souls.

It’s Jesus who has the secret to eternal life.


[i] Flor McCarthy, New Sunday and Holy Day Liturgies, Year B, Dominican Press, Dublin, 2017:336.

Year B – 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time

From Ordinary to Extraordinary

(Gen.2:18-24; Heb.2:9-11; Mk.10:2-16)

‘It’s not good for a person to be alone,’ the Bible tells us, and the reason is clear: we were all made for love.

We know this is true because we’ve all been made in God’s image and likeness (Gen.1:26-27), and God is love itself (1Jn.4:16). Indeed, God in his Trinity is never alone.

Love and relationships, therefore, are at the very heart of our human identity, and our deepest purpose is to love and to be loved in return.

The story doesn’t end there, however, because in today’s Gospel Mark reminds us that God also created us male and female, and He established marriage as the sacred bond within which a man and a woman are to express their deepest love. 

This love, however, isn’t meant to be temporary or inward-looking. It’s meant to be exclusive and long-lasting, and it’s meant to grow beyond itself, giving birth to new love. For that’s what true love does: it always looks beyond itself, expanding outwards, creating and nurturing new life and new love.

In essence, this is what marriage is all about. Marriage is a life-long commitment of love between a man and a woman, freely entered into, that generates new life and new love. 

But what about Christian marriage? How is that different?

The Catechism tells us that Marriage was ‘raised by Christ the Lord to the dignity of a Sacrament’ (ccc.1601). What does that mean?

When a man and woman are baptised, they become members of the Church, the ‘Bride of Christ’ (Eph.5:22-33). Jesus loved his bride so much that he even died for her, and this sets the standard for every married couple. Ideally, the love between the spouses will be as deep as the love of Jesus for his bride.

Of course, building such a relationship is always a challenge, especially today, and this is where the Sacrament of Matrimony is particularly valuable.

St Augustine described the sacraments as ‘outward signs of an invisible grace.’ They are signs of God’s sacred presence in our midst today, and through them God gives us the graces we need in our journey through life.

In the Sacrament of Matrimony, the grace God imparts is his own supernatural power to live a life of love, compassion and mercy. This means that God is always embedded in the couple’s relationship.

Like the three persons of the Trinity, there are three persons in a Christian Marriage: the husband, the wife and God himself.

That’s why Christian Marriage is called a Sacrament.

And it’s because of God’s sacred presence that Christian Marriage is much more than a contract. It’s a Covenant.

A contract is a legal agreement between two parties, which basically says that I’ll keep up my end of the bargain as long as you keep yours.

A Covenant, however, is a sacred commitment made before God between two equals, and it’s a commitment that they will always be there for each other. It’s a one-way agreement, focussed on the good of the other, and it doesn’t depend on what the other person does.

This is the commitment Jesus made to us when he said ‘I will never leave you or forsake you’ (Heb.13:5).

Mother Teresa often talked about the sacredness of marriage and the importance of the family as the basic foundation of society. She called it the ‘domestic school of love,’ which gives children what they need to become mature and responsible adults.

But we know that married life has its challenges. In Amoris Laetitia, Pope Francis describes the family as a ‘challenging mosaic made up of many different realities, with all their joys, hopes and problems.’

Mother Teresa also used to say that it’s easier to love people far away than those close to us. But, she said, home is where our love needs to start. This isn’t always easy to do, and that’s why we always need God and his sacraments.

His graces make all the difference.

My dear parents, Esmé and Gerald, were inseparable – they were married for almost 76 years. Not long before they died, they said that the Church had always been the foundation of their marriage, and that everything they did, they did with God.

Even in their toughest times, God always came through with his graces.

They also shared a secret – that the difference between an ordinary marriage and an extraordinary one is the little extra that you give each day – with the help of God.