Deacon Peter

The Jesus Prayer

(Sir.35:12-14, 6-18; 2Tim.4:6-8, 16-18; Lk.18:9-14)

‘Pray constantly,’ St Paul tells the Thessalonians (1Thess.5:17).

But how can anyone pray constantly? That’s the question a young homeless man asks in the spiritual classic, The Way of a Pilgrim, written by an anonymous Russian author.

It’s the 1800s, and this young man hears St Paul’s words in an Orthodox church. He’s puzzled: how can anyone possibly pray non-stop?

He decides to go on pilgrimage to find an answer. He asks many people along the way, and eventually stops at a monastery, where an old monk agrees to help him understand what St Paul means.

He begins by teaching him the Jesus Prayer: ‘Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner’.

‘Go to your room and say it 1,000 times,’ the monk says. When he does this, the monk says, ‘Now, pray it 10,000 times.’

He teaches the pilgrim to slowly pray the first part, ‘Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God’ while breathing in, and then to say ‘have mercy on me, a sinner’ while breathing out. He instructs him to do this all day.

Later, the monk dies and the pilgrim resumes his journey, slowly chanting this prayer by inhaling and exhaling the words. Sometimes he stresses a different word, or he shortens the prayer down to ‘Lord Jesus, have mercy on me’, or simply ‘Jesus, have mercy’.

All the while he’s using this breathing technique, humbly confessing his sinfulness and expressing his longing for God. In the process, he moves from praying the words aloud to praying them silently, and gradually, his whole being becomes the prayer. The words become embedded in his heart, mind and body, and their presence becomes as natural and constant as breathing itself.

‘Now I walk and say the Jesus Prayer without ceasing,’ the pilgrim says, ‘and it’s more precious and sweet to me than anything else in the world.’ [i]

The Jesus Prayer is a prayer of the heart. It’s similar to an Eastern mantra in that it’s short and it’s prayed over and over again, sometimes using knots or beads on a prayer rope.

But the difference is that non-Christian mantras are often meaningless and aim to empty the mind.

The words of the Jesus Prayer, however, are Biblical and deeply meaningful, and aim to fill the heart, mind and soul with Jesus himself.

The strength of this prayer comes from Jesus’ holy name, which is powerful in itself (Phil.2:9; Rom.10:13). Whenever we use Jesus’ name, we invoke his presence and he brings with him peace and forgiveness, love and hope.

Indeed, you cannot separate the name and person of Jesus.

This prayer began with the 3^rd Century monks of the Egyptian desert. They took the words ‘Lord have mercy on me’ from the psalms and from the story of Jesus healing the blind beggar in Jericho (Mk.10:47).

The essence of this prayer, however, can be found in today’s Gospel, in Jesus’ Parable of the Pharisee and Tax Collector.

Two men are praying in the Temple. The Pharisee stands where everyone can see him. Looking up to heaven, he loudly thanks God that he’s not like everyone else, and especially not like that Tax Collector, for he’s a virtuous man who fasts and is generous with his money.

That’s not genuine prayer, however. That’s self-promotion.

The Tax Collector then stands at the back of the Temple. He’s ashamed of his life and can’t lift up his eyes (Ez.9:6). He prays quietly, saying ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ He is lowly and humble, and honest about his mistakes. He knows he needs help, so he prays, seeking God’s love and forgiveness.

In the 1930s, Jesus promised St. Faustina Kowalska that he will ‘pour out a whole ocean of graces’ to those who approach the fountain of His mercy. [ii] This is what he does for the Tax Collector. He’ll do the same for us if we take this prayer to heart.

Today, the Jesus Prayer is especially popular in the Eastern Church, and increasingly so in the West. It’s said to be the most widely used prayer after the Our Father and the Hail Mary. [iii]

And it’s effective. A 1998 study found that practising the Jesus Prayer for ten minutes a day for 30 days, sitting quietly, offers many benefits. This includes increasing one’s perception of closeness to God, and decreasing levels of hostility, depression and anxiety. [iv]

The Jesus Prayer is easy to remember, and easy to pray, anywhere and anytime. It also comes with a whole ocean of God’s graces. [v]

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

Now, say this 1,000 times.

---

[i] Helen Bacovcin (trans.), The Way of the Pilgrim. Doubleday, NY, 1992. https://www.amazon.com/Way-Pilgrim-Continues-His/dp/0385468148 

[ii] https://www.ourcatholicprayers.com/jesus-prayer.html

[iii] https://aleteia.org/2016/09/05/praying-the-jesus-prayer-mercy-with-every-breath/

[iv] http://stjohngoc.org/the-impact-of-saying-the-jesus-prayer/

[v] https://www.orthodoxprayer.org/Articles_files/Jesus%20Prayer%20Brochure.pdf

Alfonso Cuarón’s Gravity

(Ex.17:8-13; 2Tim.3:14-4:2; Lk.18:1-8)

Being cast adrift can be a scary experience.

That’s what we see in Alfonso Cuarón’s movie Gravity. It won seven Oscars in 2014. [i]

Sandra Bullock stars as a young astronaut, Dr Ryan Stone, on her first space mission. George Clooney is her commander, a veteran astronaut on his last space expedition.

Disaster strikes while they’re investigating the Hubble Space Telescope. Their space shuttle is destroyed, they lose contact with the world and they start floating hopelessly into space. It’s a frightening thought.

The film is set in outer space, but the real story is about the inner life of this young woman. Her drifting through space serves as a metaphor for human life, for so many people today do seem to be drifting aimlessly through life. 

Dr Stone discovers to her horror that science cannot answer the most basic questions about life, and this movie asks the question: when science and technology fail, what’s left to sustain us?

At one point, she thinks she’s going to die. She cannot contact mission control, but keeps talking into her microphone anyway, asking, ‘Who’ll pray for my soul? Will you say a prayer for me? I’d say one myself, but I’ve never been taught how to’.

She discovers that we all need a faith and hope that’s grounded in solid truth, a truth that exists beyond us. And she learns that prayer is our only real lifeline to that truth and hope. (This point explains the film’s tagline: Don’t Let Go.)

There’s a similar message for us in today’s reading from Exodus. The Israelites are under attack, and as they try to defend themselves, Moses is praying on a hilltop. His hands are held high and he’s looking up towards heaven (for that’s how the ancients prayed).

As long as Moses keeps his arms up in constant prayer, the Israelites are safe; but when he lowers them, the enemy gains ground. 

The message is simple: Keep praying! Don’t let go! 

Like Sandra Bullock’s character in Gravity, there are times when we all feel we’ve been cast adrift. We feel lost, fearful and uncertain of where we’re going. That’s why Jesus in today’s Gospel reminds us of the source of our hope. Pray constantly, he says. Never lose heart.

Don’t let go!

But what is prayer? Basically, it’s communicating with God, and there are many ways to do this: in words, in song and even in silence. We can also pray by reading Scripture and by participating in the liturgy, most especially the Holy Eucharist.

Some of us have yet to find God, so prayer is also our search for him. We can look for God in our hearts and minds or listen for his quiet voice. We can seek him in art, music and literature, or sense him in the people, events and world around us. All these are forms of prayer.  

But once we’ve found God, prayer is then reaching out to him, inviting him into our lives, allowing him to change us from within. 

After that, prayer is staying connected with God, sharing in his divine nature and living as he wants us to.

St John Vianney described prayer as union with God. Prayer, he said, is like two candles – one for God and one for the soul – that have slowly melted into each other and become inseparable.

Ultimately, however, prayer is love. It’s our heartfelt search for the source of all life and love. And when we find God, when we absorb all he has to offer, then we become a source of new life and love for others. God then works through us, offering others a new beginning.

But this is only possible if we accept that there’s more to life than what we see.

Like Dr Stone in Gravity, we must learn that there truly is a deeper, spiritual world beyond the limits of space and time, for God is the source of all truth and meaning; the home of all love. And that’s where we belong. 

There’s a moment in Gravity where Dr Stone starts to understand. She’s floating in space in a foetal position, and then emerges with new life. This image is reinforced in the final scene where she emerges from the sea to begin afresh, in the same way that we rise to new life from the waters of baptism.

Our challenge then, is to maintain our link to the source of all life.

October is the month of the Holy Rosary, which reminds us of the ancient prayer that focuses so beautifully on the life of Jesus Christ.

St Therese of Lisieux saw the Rosary as a long chain linking heaven and earth, with one end in our hands, and the other in the hands of Jesus and Mary.

Like all prayer, the Rosary is an important lifeline to the truth of our existence.

Whatever you do, don’t let go!

---

[i] Alfonso Cuaron, Gravity, Warner Bros. Entertainment, 2013. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ou_04SOqmdU

Thank God for the Fleas

(Kgs.5:14-17; 2Tim.2:8-13; Lk.17:11-19)

How important is gratitude? Do we really need to say thank you?

Most of us probably know someone who rarely or never says thank you. Perhaps they’re angry or resentful about something, or they simply take things for granted, but being ungrateful tends to have consequences.

For example, ungrateful people often make poor life decisions. Why? It’s because negative thinking tends to cloud our judgement.[i] And have you noticed that ungrateful people are never happy? That’s because gratitude is the key to happiness. You cannot be happy if you’re never grateful.

So, what is gratitude? It’s appreciating what we have. It’s saying thanks for the good things that happen to us. Gratitude helps us feel connected with the world and with each other. It helps us see the world in fresh ways. It makes it easier for us to feel good, to overcome stress and adversity, and to be healthy. [ii]

In today’s Gospel, ten lepers approach Jesus. They’ve heard all about him and they’re hoping for a cure. In Greek, they cry ‘Eleison!’ (This is our cry, too, when we say ‘Lord have mercy’ at the start of every Mass.)

‘Go, show yourselves to the priests,’ Jesus says, and on the way all ten of them are healed; such is the strength of their faith. But only one, a Samaritan, returns to say thank you. Only he is humble enough to appreciate the gift he’s received. He throws himself thankfully at Jesus’ feet, and as he does so, he receives an even greater gift: his heart and soul are filled with divine grace.

He is both physically healed and spiritually transformed.

In this Gospel, Jesus is saying that we should all be grateful for our blessings. So, we ask ourselves: are we truly grateful, like the Samaritan? Or do we choose to be like the other nine, taking but giving nothing in return?

Through his letters, St Paul often talks about being thankful. In fact, he does so 46 times (e.g., Col.1:3-8,15; 1Tim.2:1). ‘Give thanks in all circumstances’ (1Thess.5:18), he says. Give thanks to God and to each other, always and everywhere. Give thanks for our existence, for the world we live in, for the food we eat and the air we breathe. Give thanks for our family and friends, and for our peace and prosperity.

Life might not be perfect, but we’re all blessed in so many ways.

In her book, The Hiding Place, Corrie Ten Boom explains how she learnt to be grateful, even in the most awful of places.

In 1944, in the Netherlands, she and her family were arrested by the Nazis for secretly sheltering Jews in their home. They were sent to Ravensbruck concentration camp, a truly cruel and miserable place.

Arriving at Barracks 28, they were horrified to find the straw mattresses soaked with urine, the sewers backed up and their beds swarming with biting fleas. How could they live in such a place?

Corrie’s sister Betsie had a Bible, and in it she came across St Paul’s instruction: ‘Give thanks in all circumstances.’ They talked and wondered about this, and decided to make a list of all their blessings.

They were thankful they were together. They thanked God they had a Bible. They even thanked God for the crowds of prisoners, that more people could hear God’s word through them. And then, Betsie thanked God for the fleas.

‘The fleas!’ Corrie said. This was too much. ‘There’s no way even God can make me grateful for a flea,’ she thought.

But it turned out that Betsie was right. The fleas were a nuisance, but they were also a blessing. The women were able to have Bible studies in the barracks with a great deal of freedom, never bothered by supervisors coming in and harassing them. The fleas actually kept the guards away.

God used those fleas to protect dozens of women from harassment and abuse. They were left free to support each other and to hear the comforting and life-giving word of God. [iii]

We all have things that irritate us, things that at first appear to be annoying, painful or even unnecessary. But as Corrie Ten Boom found, God often uses such things for our protection and blessing.

St Therese of Lisieux learnt the same lesson: ‘Everything is a blessing’, she said. Everything.

So, we must always be thankful, even when times are tough and unpleasant. We might not be aware of it, but God is always looking after us.

Very often, it’s only when we look back that we realise what God has done for us.

---

[i] https://hbr.org/2010/09/how-anger-poisons-decision-making

[ii] https://www.psychologytoday.com/au/blog/being-your-best-self/202010/practicing-gratitude-is-more-important-now-ever

[iii] Corrie ten Boom, The Hiding Place, Hodder and Stoughton, London, 2015:184-192.

Faith and Science

(Hab.1:2-3; 2:2-4; 2Tim.1:6-8, 13-14; Lk.17:5-10)

Is it true that faith and science are enemies?

No, that’s simply not true. Today, the Church runs countless schools and universities which teach science. It also sponsors the Pontifical Academy of Sciences and the Vatican Observatory.

But let’s go back into history. Bishop Robert Barron reminds us that it was the Church that gave birth to science. The great scientific pioneers, including Kepler, Copernicus, Galileo, Newton and Descartes, all went to Church-sponsored schools and universities, and it was there that they began their journeys of scientific discovery.

These early schools and universities taught two theological truths that underpin the experimental sciences today: firstly, that the universe is not God, and secondly, that the universe he created is both orderly and rational (Ecc.42:21; Jer.33:25-26).

It’s because God’s creation is so orderly and rational that science is able to do what it does so well – conducting observations, analysis and experimentation.

Science’s foundations, then, emerged from theology, and the pioneers of science got their start from Church-sponsored schools and universities.

Now, we know that God created the universe (Gen.1). This means that he must be outside it. It also means that you cannot use the scientific method to find or study God.

When pioneer cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin returned from outer space in 1961, he said, ‘I looked and looked but I didn’t see God.’ Of course he didn’t. God is not an object inside his own creation. He’s outside it.

Similarly, my wife is an artist. If you closely study her work, you’ll find evidence of her style, her techniques and her imagination. But you’ll never find the woman herself because she exists outside her creations.

Finding our divine creator therefore requires a different approach, and that’s why science and theology use very different methods in their work. It also explains why science can never decide the question of God’s existence or describe God or what he does. That requires a very different kind of rational thought, one that doesn’t compete with the scientific approach.

And here’s another point: Scientism is not science.

Scientism says that the only knowledge worth having is scientific knowledge. Many people today say they will accept only what they can clearly see, touch and control, and therefore the only knowledge of any value comes from science. But we know that science has its limitations.

Science has done great work in fields like health and technology, but it still can’t distinguish good from bad, or right from wrong. It can’t explain love or goodness or beauty, and it can’t decide what to do with its own discoveries.

There is such a thing as objective truth. Jesus spoke about it (Jn.14:6), and there are many roads to it, including art, literature, history, philosophy, science and religion. It’s wrong to suggest that only one approach has any value.

And finally, we should acknowledge the ground-breaking work of countless Catholic scientists, including Danish Bishop Nicholas Steno who founded Geology, and German Fr Athanasius Kircher who founded Egyptology. (He also studied medicine, physics, astronomy, maths, music and linguistics). [i]

Fr Roger Boscovich’s ideas in the 1700s led to modern atomic theory. Seismology is often called the Jesuit science. Economics was founded by fourteenth-century Catholic thinkers, Jean Buridan and Nicolas Oresme. The father of modern genetics was an Augustinian friar, Gregor Mendel. Fr Georges Lemaître formulated the Big Bang theory. And finally, Sr Miriam Stimson, a Dominican nun and Chemistry professor, helped discover DNA. [ii]

Clearly, there’s a distinguished relationship between Christianity and science.

Now, some people say that the story of Galileo is proof of the Church’s supposed “war” against science. But Robert Barron says that this is only one chapter in a very long book. ‘The Galileo episode was hardly the Church’s finest moment,’ he says, ‘(but) in point of fact, John Paul II apologised for it.’ [iii]

The Galileo story was clearly a mistake, but it should not overshadow the historically positive link between science and the Christian faith.

Let’s close with a story. A young university student was travelling in the same train carriage as an elderly man who was praying the Rosary. The young man confronted him: ‘Instead of praying the Rosary, why don’t you take the time to learn and educate yourself a little more? I can send you an instructive book,’ he said.

The old man replied, ‘Please send me the book at this address,’ and he handed him his card. It read: Louis Pasteur, Paris Institute of Science.

The student was embarrassed. Pasteur was the most famous scholar of his time. He invented vaccines and pasteurisation and regularly prayed the Rosary.

Pasteur was also the man who said that a little science estranges us from God, but much science leads us back to him.

---

[i] https://www.loc.gov/item/ihas.200155977/

[ii] https://aleteia.org/2017/09/10/sister-miriam-the-dominican-nun-who-helped-discover-dna/

[iii] https://www.catholiceducation.org/en/science/faith-and-science/why-the-supposed-conflict-between-science-and-religion-is-tragic-nonsense.html

The Parable of Dives and Lazarus

(Amos 6:1a,4-7; 1Tim.6:11-16; Lk.16:19-31)

How many parables are there? Surprisingly, no-one’s quite sure. One scholar says there are 33, but other sources say there are 30, or 37, or 40, or 46, or even 60.

It all depends on how you count them, whether you include various proverbs and metaphors, and whether you group together parables like The Lost Sheep and The Lost Coin.

Jesus’ parables occupy a third of the first three Gospels. He likes using them in his teaching, for he knows how much people love stories.

In Hebrew, the word for parable is mashal, which also means ‘riddle’. So, Jesus’ parables serve as riddles that make us think.

Harvey Cox says that one of the most surprising features of Jesus’ parables is that they are not about God. Rather, they are about ordinary things like weddings and banquets, family tensions, muggings, farmers sowing and reaping, and shrewd business dealings. Only one or two actually mention God.

Cox’s point is that Jesus wants us to look closely at this world we live in, and not somewhere else, for it’s in the here and now – all around us in the most ordinary things of life – that we find God’s divine presence. [i]

Parables always work at two levels. There’s the literal level with a very simple story, and then there’s a deeper level offering us profound lessons about life.

Today’s parable is The Rich Man and Lazarus. We don’t know the rich man’s name, but some call him Dives, which simply means ‘rich man’ in Latin. I’ll use that name for him today.

This Lazarus isn’t the brother of Martha and Mary. Lazarus was a common name back then; it means ‘God has helped’. Interestingly, this Lazarus is the only character that Jesus actually gives a name in any of his parables.

The first half of this story is set on earth. The rich man is enjoying life with fine food and clothes in his very expensive home, but he totally ignores poor Lazarus, who is sick and starving and waiting just outside his gate. 

The story then switches to the afterlife as both men die. Their roles are reversed, and Dives finds himself trapped in hell, while Lazarus is delighted to find himself with Abraham in heaven. (And we recall Jesus’ promise that the last will be first, and the first will be last [Mt.20:16]).

We soon discover that Dives actually knew Lazarus all along, because he uses his name to demand a cooling drink. But he still hasn’t learnt anything, because he treats Lazarus dismissively, like a slave.

On the surface, this story is simple: Dives should have done something to help Lazarus.  But like all parables, this one offers us plenty of food for thought.

Firstly, it reminds us that human suffering is everywhere, and it asks us to reflect on our own response to it. Dives had every comfort, while Lazarus suffered in misery, and we are reminded of Jesus’ words: ‘Whatever you do to the least of my people you do to me’ (Mt.25:40).

St Teresa of Kolkata built her life on these words. Whenever she found someone abandoned and suffering, she always saw them as ‘Jesus in disguise’.

Lazarus, covered in sores and licked by street dogs, was Jesus in disguise.

How do we respond to such suffering? There’s so much hardship and pain in our world today. Every family, community, school and workplace has people who struggle. They might need friendship, encouragement or some kind of practical support, but they are all Jesus Christ himself.

And secondly, this parable warns us that hell is real. Jesus often talks about hell in the Gospels (e.g., Mk.9:43, 48; Mt.10:28; 13:42; 25:30, 41). In fact, he talks more often about hell than about heaven.

Today, he’s telling us to choose, because once we cross over that threshold into eternal life, it will be too late to change our minds.

Dives wanted to escape from hell but knew he couldn’t. As Abraham says to him, ‘…between us and you a great gulf has been fixed, to stop anyone, if he wanted to, crossing from our side to yours, and from your side to ours.’

Dives then asks if his brothers can be warned not to make the same mistake. But Abraham says, ‘if they won’t listen to Moses or the prophets, they won’t be convinced even if someone should rise from the dead.’

He’s right, isn’t he? Jesus himself rose from the dead, and yet so many people today refuse to listen to him.

So often with parables, the real story begins when the storyteller ends.

What’s your response to the story of the Rich Man and Lazarus?

---

[i] Harvey Cox, When Jesus Came to Harvard: Making Moral Choices Today (Boston, MA: Houghton Mifflin, 2004), 155, 159. Quoted in Richard Rohr’s Daily Reflection, the Parables of Jesus, August 2022.

The Parable of the Dishonest Steward

(Am.8:4-7; 1Tim.2:1-8; Lk.16:1-13)

Do you remember Aesop’s fables? Aesop was a legendary storyteller in Ancient Greece. No-one’s quite sure whether he was a former slave or actually more than one person, but hundreds of stories are ascribed to him, and each offers a lesson in morality. Here’s one:

The birds and the beasts were at war with each other, and the bat tried to belong to both sides. When the birds were winning, the bat told everyone that he was a bird. And when the beasts were winning, he said he was one of them.

At the peace conference after the war, the birds and the beasts called the bat a hypocrite. As punishment, they banished the bats, and ever since then bats have always hidden themselves in the daytime and only fly at night ^[i]

The moral to this story is that you cannot commit to two opposing priorities at once. Or as Jesus tells us, you cannot serve two masters.

This is what Jesus is saying in his Parable of the Dishonest Steward in today’s Gospel. A landowner sacks his steward (his estate manager) for handling his property dishonestly. We don’t know what he did wrong, but it’s clear that he not only served his employer; he also looked after himself, and was caught.

In those days, stewards had the right to charge a commission on every transaction they handled for their employer.  But just before leaving his job, the steward decides to call in his master’s debtors. He offers to reduce their debts, probably by deleting his commission from their contracts. 

He’s taking a loss, but he’s also securing his own future by earning goodwill. The customers are delighted to have their debts reduced, and his former master is pleased to see his customers so happy. He praises the steward for being shrewd.

After getting caught doing something wrong, the steward is finally doing something right.

Many people find this story puzzling; they think Jesus is praising dishonest behaviour, but he’s not. Like all parables, this one is meant to surprise us and make us think.

To begin with, this story encourages us to be wise in the way we use our resources, because when our time is up, we cannot take anything with us. In other words, we must use whatever we have to help those who are struggling. 

In this parable, the steward’s time is up and he’s using what’s left of his important position to help those in need. He does something significant.

As Jesus says, ‘I tell you, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves so that when it’s gone, you’ll be welcomed into eternal dwellings.’ This is similar to Jesus’ teaching in his Sermon on the Mount where he tells us to store up our treasure in heaven (Mt.6:19-21).

This parable reminds us that there are two worlds: our earthly, day-to-day life, and the kingdom of God. So many people today focus only on the first, and they completely ignore the second.

They invest enormous amounts of time and energy into ensuring their worldly success and comfort, but they spend almost no time at all on preparing their souls for eternal life.

They might call themselves Christian, but in truth they are slaves to their worldly obsessions. This is why Jesus reminds us, ‘no servant can serve two masters… You cannot serve both God and money.’

If we seriously care about our souls and allow God to be our master, then we’ll use what we have to please him. Like the steward in today’s parable, we’ll do what we can to help others, and in the process we’ll store up treasure in heaven.

As Jewish rabbis used to say: ‘The rich help the poor in this world, but the poor help the rich in the world to come’. [ii]

Let’s close with the story of Cardinal Wolsey (1475-1530). He was a great achiever who rose from humble beginnings to be Lord Chancellor of England, one of the most powerful positions in the country. He owed it all to his lord and master, King Henry VIII, to whom he was completely loyal.

In the end, however, he fell out of favour with Henry, and he finished up back where he started. At the end of his life, he uttered these memorable words: ‘Would that I had served my God but half as well as I served my king.’ [iii]

Wolsey’s mistake was that he gave absolute priority to serving King Henry. We can learn from him.

There are two worlds, but only one will last forever.

---

[i] https://read.gov/aesop/061.html

[ii] Geoff Plant, Welcoming the Outsider, Garratt Publishing, Melbourne, 2009:176.

[iii] Flor McCarthy, New Sunday and Holy Day Liturgies, Year C, Dominican Publications, Dublin, 2018:328-329.

Lost Sheep

(Ex.32:7-11,13-14; 1Tim.1:12-17; Lk.15:1-32)

Someone once asked me, ‘Isn’t it wrong for Jesus to leave 99 sheep, to search for just one? Shouldn’t he have stayed with the 99?’

John Pilch offers us one answer in his book, The Cultural World of Jesus. He says that in Jesus’ day, even one sheep was valuable because each family only had about 40 sheep. So, if there were 100 sheep, there must have been more than one flock, and more than one shepherd. The 99 therefore were not left unattended. [i]

St Teresa of Kolkata gives us another answer. For her, the lost sheep were the desperately poor people she rescued from the most awful of situations. Like the old woman she once found, dumped in a garbage bin.

Some people criticised her for her work. They said she should not have worried about a few lost sheep. Instead, she should have cared for the rest of the flock – ‘the 99’. One man, for example, said she should have taught hungry people how to fish, rather than just giving a few people something to eat.

But Mother Teresa said that’s not what God wanted her to do. She said, ‘The people I serve are helpless. They cannot stand. They cannot hold the rod. They are the lepers, the dying, the mentally ill. When they’re strong enough, someone else can teach them how to fish’.

One by one, over almost 50 years, she rescued many thousands of lost sheep.  Other shepherds, she said, could look after the rest of the flock.

In Luke’s Gospel today, Jesus reminds us that many people are lost – they’re wounded, broken and fearful. Jesus wants to bring them his love and healing. 

He gives us three parables, each presenting God the Father in a different way. 

First, he’s the humble and caring shepherd who drops everything to find his lost sheep. Then he’s the sensible woman who carefully searches for her lost coin. And finally he’s the gentle, loving Father who waits patiently for his wayward son to return home. 

The Pharisees thought that looking for a lost sheep was a complete waste of time. But Jesus makes it clear that every lost sheep – every person, no matter how poor, pitiful or sinful – is a treasure.

God doesn’t limit his mercy to only a special few.  God is always patient, always loving and always forgiving. He wants us all to come home to him, regardless of the shape we’re in.

The Pharisees also used to say that heaven will rejoice when one sinner is obliterated. But Jesus doesn’t agree. In his first two parables today, he says the shepherd and the woman rejoice when they find their lost sheep and coin. In his third parable, the father has a great feast for his returning son.

in other words, God celebrates when we return to him.

Adolfo Quezada, in his book Radical Love, writes about Jesus’ extraordinary compassion for the lost, and he reminds us that we should all be filled with that same radical love.

He says that it’s not simply a matter of us deciding ‘what’s the loving thing to do?’ when someone needs help. Rather, each of us needs to be so filled with God’s love that we instinctively know what to do.

He says that when we’re united with God in prayer, our faith will inspire our actions, and our work will naturally be filled with love.

Quezada says that radical love demands that we use our gifts to reach out to those who suffer. We must allow the power of love to work through us to soothe their wounds, to mend their broken hearts and to give them a sense of belonging. [ii]

Let’s close with a story. In rural Ireland, Flor McCarthy went for a walk one day. Near a worker’s hut, he heard a sheep cry. He looked for the animal and found it stuck in a deep, muddy ditch.

He couldn’t let it die, so he tried to save it without falling into the hole himself. He found a spade inside the hut, and used it to cut steps into the bank of peat. He reached the sheep and slowly pulled it out.

Walking home, he thought about this experience. He stopped thinking about the trouble the sheep had caused, and started feeling joy for the life he’d saved.

He also thought about the sheep’s cry, for without it, he would never have known it was trapped. And he thought, it’s not only sheep that fall into holes. People do, too. But they’re not as smart as sheep, because they’re often too ashamed to cry or ask for help. [iii]

Yes, we’re all called to rescue lost sheep.

But let’s remember: those most in need of our help don’t always cry or ask for help.

---

[i] John J Pilch, The Cultural World of Jesus, Cycle C, The Liturgical Press, Collegeville, MN, 1997:136-137.

[ii] Adolfo Quezada, Radical Love, Paulist Press, NY, 2010.

[iii] Flor McCarthy, New Sunday and Holy Day Liturgies, Cycle C, Dominican Publications, Dublin, 2018:321-322.

Shining Armour

(Wis.9:13-18; Phlm.9-10, 12-17; Lk.14:25-33)

‘Love your enemies,’ Jesus says, ‘and bless those who persecute you.’ So why today is he telling us to hate our family?

It’s because Jesus’ language, Aramaic, didn’t have a word for prefer. The Jesuit author Brendan Byrne says that in Aramaic, if you preferred one thing over another, you’d say you ‘loved’ one thing, but ‘hated’ the other. But this doesn’t mean ‘hate’ as we mean it today. It means putting God first and loving other things less.

Bill Bausch says that this is an example of ancient, non-literal Jewish talk, the kind of exaggeration a first-century Jew would use to press a deeper point. It’s similar to something else Jesus says: ‘If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. If your eye is a source of scandal, pluck it out’ (Mt.18:8-9). [i]

So, Jesus isn’t speaking literally. Rather, he’s giving us a wake-up call.

What, then, is Jesus saying? He’s reminding us that we must always put God first. And he’s warning us that putting God first has practical implications for our daily lives.

This is what Margaret Middleton learnt in 16^th Century England. She was born into a Church of England family in York, and at 15 she married a butcher, John Clitherow. She took his surname and three years later, perhaps influenced by her brother-in-law who became a Catholic priest, she became a Catholic.

Margaret Clitherow took her faith seriously; it influenced every aspect of her life. She loved her husband and was keen to be a good wife and mother, but she always put God first.

This meant that she had to break the law, because it was illegal then to be Catholic in England. With her husband’s support, she hid priests in her home and she allowed them to say Mass there. She taught herself to read and write, and she ran a small school for children, including her own, where she taught the Catholic faith.

She was often gaoled in York Castle for not attending mandatory Anglican church services, and she prayed at the nearby gallows where Catholic martyrs died. She was deeply moved by those who willingly suffered and died for their faith.  

In 1586 the secret hiding places in her home were discovered, and she was arrested. To protect her children, Margaret refused to speak to her accusers, and at the age of 33 she was punished by being crushed to death.

Margaret Clitherow’s daughter Anne was gaoled for four years for refusing to attend a Church of England service, and she later became a nun in Belgium. Margaret’s sons Henry and William also became priests. [ii] [iii]

They all put God first, and accepted the harsh consequences.

Consider also the story of Robert Mansfield in Alan Paton’s book, Cry, the Beloved Country. He was the white headmaster of a white school in South Africa who took his cricket and hockey teams to play against black schools.

When the Education Department stopped that, he resigned in protest.  Shortly afterwards, Emmanuel Nene, a leader in the black community, came to meet him. He said, ‘I’ve come to meet a man who resigns his job because he doesn’t wish to obey an order that will prevent children from playing with one another.’

Mansfield said, ‘I resigned because I think it’s time to go out and fight everything that separates people from one another. Do I look like a knight in shining armour?’

‘Yes, you look like a knight in shining armour,’ Nene replied. ‘But you are going to get wounded. Do you know that?’

‘I expect that may happen,’ Mansfield replied.

‘Well,’ said Nene, ‘you expect correctly. People don’t like what you are doing, but I’m thinking of joining you in the battle.’

‘You’re going to wear the shining armour, too?’ Mansfield asked.

‘Yes, and I’m going to get wounded, too. Not only by the government, but also by my own people as well.’

‘Aren’t you worried about the wounds?’ Mansfield asked.

‘Don’t worry about the wounds,’ said Nene. ‘When I get up there, which is my intention, the Big Judge will say to me, “Where are your wounds?” and if I say, “I haven’t any”, he’ll say “Was there nothing to fight for?” I couldn’t face that question.’ [iv]

Putting God first isn’t easy these days. There’s so much pressure on us to do anything but that.

But when you get to heaven and God asks to see your wounds, what will you show him?

And what will you say you fought for?

---

[i] William J Bausch, Once Upon a Gospel, Twenty-Third Publications, New London, CT. 2011:259.

[ii] https://www.bbc.co.uk/northyorkshire/content/articles/2008/10/08/saint_margaret_clitherow_feature.shtml#

[iii] https://www.historyhit.com/st-margaret-clitherow-executed-for-her-faith/

[iv] Alan Paton, Cry, the Beloved Country. Vintage Books, London, 1987.

Humble Pie

(Sir.3:17-20, 28-29; Heb.12:18-19, 22-24; Lk.14:1, 7-14)

In Medieval England, the Church used to collect leftover meat from the tables of the rich, and they gave it to the poor.

These leftovers were usually deer or beef innards, called numbles. These numbles were chopped or minced, and then wrapped in pastry and cooked. The result was numble pie, which later became umble pie. The rich ate the tasty venison, while the poor ate umble pie. [i] [ii]

The nature of this dish has changed over the years, and today we speak of eating humble pie, where we accept that we were wrong about something.

Humble pie is what Jesus serves up at the Pharisee’s banquet in today’s Gospel. He has been invited to this feast, and as it starts, he notices the guests scrambling for the best seats at the table, near the most important people. 

Jesus is appalled, and tells them so. Don’t go grabbing a seat that’s not yours, he says. You risk embarrassment if the host asks you to move. It’s better to wait until you’re asked to sit, because then you might be offered a good spot. 

And he adds, ‘Anyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.’ 

In Biblical times, the Pharisees hated humble pie, because pride was everything to them. They worked hard to receive public honour and to avoid being shamed.

Today, things aren’t much different, because pride is still very popular. Lots of people simply love drawing attention to themselves. They like getting praise and recognition because it makes them feel good.

But they forget that pride claims that everything is perfect, when it can’t be. Humility, however, means seeing ourselves as we really are, and always being open to receive any further improvement or correction.

When we’re proud, we’re effectively saying that we don’t need to change, and we close ourselves off. But when we acknowledge our weaknesses, we open ourselves up to receive God’s abundant graces. As St Peter says, ‘God resists the proud, but he gives grace to the humble’ (1Pet.5:5-6).

All through the Bible, we see God showering his graces on people who were genuinely honest about themselves. Moses, for example, was ‘very humble, more than anyone else on earth’ (Num.12:3), and yet God still called him to lead his people to the Promised Land.

King Solomon was rich and powerful, but he didn’t let that go to his head. He knew that everything came from God (2Chron.6:13; 1Kgs.8:54).

When the Wise Men arrived bearing gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, the first thing they did was to drop onto their knees to worship Jesus (Mt.2:11).

St Paul saw himself as the least of the apostles (1Cor.15:9) and the chief of sinners (1Tim.1:15), but he still became one of the greatest saints.

And St John the Baptist thought he wasn’t worthy to undo the strap of Jesus’ sandals (Jn.1:27). And yet Jesus said he was one of the greatest human beings ever to walk the face of the Earth (Mt.11:11).

All these people were happy to eat humble pie. They knew that ‘Where there’s humility, there’s wisdom’ (Prov.11:2).

So, what’s the recipe for humble pie?

The crust is made from dust and ashes, which is where we come from (and where we’re going to). The filling is a blend of equal parts of self-awareness, kindness, self-restraint and a desire to learn. And it’s all served with a fine sprinkling of love.

Humility is the first test of a truly great person, because it means understanding who you really are, including your own strengths and weaknesses. It means knowing where you fit into the scheme of things. It means respecting others and treating them as more important than you are.

St. Augustine once said, ‘If you ask me what’s most essential in the Christian faith, I’d say: first, humility; second, humility, and third, humility.’

Let’s close with a story from the great Polish Rabbi Simcha Bunim. He taught that everyone should have two pockets. In one pocket they should have a piece of paper saying: ‘I am only dust and ashes.’ When they’re feeling too proud, they should reach into this pocket, take out this paper and read it.

In the other pocket they should have another piece of paper saying: ‘For my sake the world was created.’ When they’re feeling lowly and disheartened, they should reach into this pocket, take out this paper and read it.

For we are each the joining of two worlds.

We are fashioned from clay, but our spirit is the breath of God. [iii]

---

[i] https://www.irishtimes.com/life-and-style/food-and-drink/what-does-humble-pie-taste-like-1.3484273

[ii] https://www.etymonline.com/word/humble%20pie

[iii] Martin Buber, Tales of The Hasidim Later Masters. Schoken Books, NY, 1948:249-50. https://www.templeisaiah.com/pdf/1481327848_sermon_pdf_2016_Rabbi_Joel_Nickerson_Yom_Kippur_Sermon_Two_Pockets_.pdf

The Butterfly

(Isa.66:18-21; Heb.12:5-7; 11-13; Lk.13:22-30)

You don’t have to go far to find suffering. It’s everywhere. There’s sickness, floods, drought and war. There are broken relationships, the death of loved ones and seeing our plans fail.

In one way or another, we all suffer, and no one likes that. Some people learn from it and move on, while others become angry and bitter. And many people wonder, why doesn’t God protect us from all this pain?

The first thing to say is that God doesn’t make us suffer. He’s not punishing us, because God is love. God does, however, let suffering happen, and one reason for this is because he wants us to learn about life and to come closer to him.

This is what the author of the Letter to the Hebrews is saying to the early Christians in our second reading today. They found life very hard, and he’s encouraging them to accept this as part of their training in discipleship. Like all good parents, God is trying to teach them.

In her book Nudging Conversions, Carrie Gress identifies three kinds of suffering. The first she calls Suffering from Self, because it’s caused by sin. This suffering comes from our bad, self-destructive habits and being separated from God. This is like hell, she says, because sin is always accompanied by pain. We can see this in broken relationships, in our wounded children and in our addictions.

Regardless of our intentions, she says, sin is going to hurt. And God lets this pain happen as a warning that something isn’t right. So, if our conscience fails, this pain might remind us that it’s time to change our behaviour.

The second kind she calls Suffering for Self, and she compares it to purgatory. It occurs when the soul starts turning to God, and the pain comes largely from atoning for our sins. The reason for it is simple, she says: we must repair whatever we’ve broken, while also growing deeper in holiness.

She quotes St Paul’s words: ‘We rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope’ (Rom.5:3-4). This type of suffering is important in our journey towards spiritual maturity.

The third kind she calls Suffering for Others. It’s close to heaven, she says, for it comes from genuinely loving and sacrificing ourselves for others. This is how Jesus loves. [i]

Victor Frankl (1905–97) was imprisoned in Nazi concentration camps during World War II. His mother, father, brother and pregnant wife were all murdered there, and he was stripped of everything he had, including his human dignity.

But there was one thing the Nazis couldn’t take from him: that was his ability to choose how he responded to all this trauma. Frankl made the conscious decision to stay in control of all his responses.

He had learnt a valuable lesson: that those who have a strong sense of meaning and purpose in life can survive for much longer than those who lose their way.

In 2007, Pope Benedict XVI wrote: ‘We can try to limit suffering, to fight against it, but we cannot eliminate it. It is when we attempt to avoid suffering by withdrawing from anything that might involve hurt, when we try to spare ourselves the effort and pain of pursuing truth, love, and goodness, that we drift into a life of emptiness, in which there may be almost no pain, but the dark sensation of meaninglessness and abandonment is all the greater.

‘It is not by sidestepping or fleeing from suffering that we are healed,’ he said, ‘but rather by our capacity for accepting it, maturing through it and finding meaning through union with Christ, who suffered with infinite love.’ [ii]

Jesus suffered every kind of pain imaginable. He was rejected by almost everyone; he suffered emotionally, psychologically, physically and spiritually. And yet he still rose in glory. Clearly, Jesus is the model for us to follow, for he offers us hope.

Let’s close with the story of the butterfly. Butterflies begin life tightly wrapped up in a cocoon. Then, when the time comes, they struggle to escape. Some people think it’s nice to relieve their suffering, by helping them get out. But that’s a mistake.

When butterflies wriggle and struggle out of their cocoon, their movements release a chemical that’s pumped into their wings. This fluid strengthens their muscles and helps their wings expand. [iii]

If butterflies don’t struggle like this, they quickly die.

Suffering is a mystery that can be hard to bear, but it’s also a natural part of life.

Let’s ask Jesus to help us understand, and to help us through.

---

[i] Carrie Gress, Nudging Conversions. Beacon Publishing, NY, 2015 (eBook).

[ii] Benedict XVI, Spe Salvi, 37

[iii] https://rockpaperscissorsinc.com/what-we-can-learn-from-a-butterflys-struggle-to-escape-its-chrysalis/