St. Catherine of Siena

Today is the Feast Day of St. Catherine of Siena, along with St. Francis of Assisi, the patron saint of Italy! As a feast day, there are readings specific to the occasion, taken from the First Letter of St. John and the Gospel of Matthew – and these are well chosen for the occasion.

Catherine of Siena was an Italian mystic and pious laywoman who engaged in papal and Italian politics through extensive letter-writing and advocacy. During life the Church was impacted by Roman/Italian politics that caused the Pope to move the papacy and its offices to Avignon, France. In the period 1309 to 1376 seven successive popes resided in Avignon. You can read more about the Avignon Papacy here. Catherine mounted a letter-campaign among her peers to convince Pope Gregory XI to return the papacy to Rome. He was the last of the Avignon popes. However, also part of this milieu of temporal and religious authority was the Western Schism, a time when there were multiple claimants to the Chair of Peter (1378 to 1417). The reigning pope, Urban VI, enlisted Catherine’s help to find a resolution to the schism in order that the Church be One.

St. Catherine lived in a time when there were many secular voices and motivations that seemed to be drowning out the voice of the True Shepherd. A problem not unfamiliar with each person living in our times. There are voices that offer up a “schism” between life and individual choice, between natural law and personal desires, and would point our moral compass in new directions. The voice of the True Shepherd calling us to the light and other voices calling us to a different path. The question that Catherine asked is the same as asked of us in today’s first reading – are we truly in fellowship with Jesus, doing as he commanded: “If we say, ‘We have fellowship with him,’ while we continue to walk in darkness, we lie and do not act in truth…If we say, ‘We are without sin,’ we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” (1 John 1:6,8).

It is a question pertinent to our secular and faith lives, just as it was for the leaders of Catherine’s time. But is it a question we ask of ourselves? From time to time, during the Sacrament of Confession, I hear a penitent say “….well, I really don’t have any sins to confess, I am a pretty good person.” I may be in the presence of a Saint (the capital “S” kind) or maybe (more likely) I am with someone who could use a second look at their lives. Not a second look that is rooted in fear and scrupulosity, but one that ever seeks to find the truth, be in fellowship, and minimize the degree to which human nature participates in self-deception.

We might be blessed with a “St. Catherine” in our lives who will be unafraid to engage us and point us to the light, but in all cases we are called to learn from Jesus revealed in the Holy Word of Scripture and to reflect on our lives to see what burdens we can lay down, and what next steps we are called to take on the road towards holiness.


Image credit: St. Catherine of Siena, Giovanni Battista Tiepolo  | Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien, Gemäldegalerie | PD-US

Voices

In the gospel reading for today we heard Jesus tell some bystanders who wanted Jesus to plainly say that he was the Messiah. Jesus replied: “But you do not believe because you are not among my sheep. My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish.

How about us? Are we among his sheep? Granted in other places in the New Testament there are other indicators of membership within the flock, but today’s indicator is whether we hear the voice of the Good Shepherd. But let me nuance that criteria just a shade. What voice are you most familiar with in life?  What voice or voices linger in your mind most of the time?  Mom? Dad? Your spouse? Your supervisor? An amazing mentor, coach, or teacher? Your favorite podcaster? Denizens of the media, pop culture, Madison Avenue, the lure of fame and recognition, or the siren’s call of riches and wealth? The secular voice of temptation to a different moral compass?

There are many voices we have heard, are hearing and will hear. Some are good and some are not so good.  Oftentimes we can talk ourselves into believing that the many “voices” or influences that we encounter on a daily basis do not affect us.  Perhaps. Perhaps not. There are powerful influences in the world and, whether we want to believe it or not, some of them do affect us.

Sheep are easily taught and conditioned.  They learn the voice of their shepherd because it was common practice for shepherds to regularly speak to their sheep.  Once the sheep became used to the shepherd’s voice, they would turn and follow him when he called. So it is with us.  We will follow the voice of that which we are most familiar.  Whatever it is that we immerse ourselves in each and every day will grow on us and draw us, even unknowingly, to follow.

This begs the question, “What are you most familiar with?”  Ideally, we spend sufficient time in God’s Word, learning His language, tone and voice.  Ideally, we dedicate some portion of our day, every day, to silent contemplation of God.  As we do this, we build a habit of hearing Him speak and we become comfortable with and comforted by His voice.

Once this habit is established in us, it will be much easier to go about our busy day hearing God whenever He chooses to speak.  We will immediately recognize it is Him and we will follow.

Reflect, today, upon that which calls to you the loudest.  Don’t let the many other voices in our world drown out God’s voice.  Instead, prepare yourself for the moments He chooses to speak.  And when He does speak, let that voice grab your attention so that you can follow.


Image credit: Pexels CC-0

Other Sheep

In today’s Gospel, Jesus says something simple: “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. These also I must lead, and they will hear my voice, and there will be one flock, one shepherd.” Those words would have sounded surprising to His first listeners. Many expected the Messiah to gather and restore Israel. But Jesus reveals that His mission is wider than they imagined. His heart is larger than they expected and the flock bigger than they thought. But isn’t it exactly what we see unfolding in the first reading from the Acts of the Apostles.

Peter returns to Jerusalem and is immediately criticized. He has entered the house of Gentiles. He has eaten with them. For many believers of that time, this crossed an important boundary. It challenged long-held customs and assumptions. The concern was not trivial. They were trying to be faithful to the traditions they had received from their families and rabbis. But while they were trying to protect the boundaries, God was already expanding them. As Peter says: “If God gave them the same gift He gave us, who was I to be able to hinder God?” Indeed who are we to hinder God – a lesson we need to learn in every church age as we are so used to thinking of “inside” or “outside” the Church. While that may or may not be true as regards membership we should not let that limit our imagination of the wideness of God’s mercy. There is no one beyond the reach of God’s mercy. Not the intransigent family member, people with no visible faith, people drifting away from the Faith, or even people who believe they have fallen so far that God’s grace could not possibly be working in them.

The Shepherd seeks people we have given up on, in places that would surprise us, and into hearts we assumed were closed. The Shepherd is not waiting for them to find Him. He seeks the wandering sheep, the hidden sheep, the wounded sheep, the skeptical sheep, the embarrassed sheep, the sheep who think they no longer belong.

He seeks the people who carry quiet shame. They believe that because of what they have done, where they have been, or how long they have been away, they no longer count. The funny thing is that Jesus never says, “I used to have sheep.” He has other sheep – ones He loves before they repent, before they know they are lost, and before they even think to return.

And when they begin to ask questions, slip into the back of Mass, and “test the waters”, our task is not to stand in the doorway and inspect them. Our task is to rejoice.


Image credit: Pexels CC-0

Gone fishing

Well… not actually “fishing” but I am heading out on vacation to visit family, friends, lakes, oceans, and other places where fish live… but I will leave the fish be. Not to worry, there are a whole bunch of posts queued up and ready to go on a daily basis… might even blog a thought or two while away.  God bless!

Recognition

Mary Magdalene did not recognize Jesus in the garden. The folks walking to Emmaus did not recognize Him on the road. In today’s gospel the apostles don’t recognize Jesus. There seems to be a lot of that going around.

Perhaps the seashore encounter is different. The apostles apparently have been fishing all night; they’re tired. And besides, they were fishing rather than waiting for his appearance. Their preoccupation with work and grief likely hindered their perception. Mary Magdalene was focused on finding Jesus’ body not meeting Jesus. The travelers on the road were focused on catching the stranger up on the latest news.

Back to our gospel…add to all that, they are about 100 yards off shore. It’s early morning and it isn’t the best light. Maybe Jesus is backlit with the sunrise. It all adds up making it difficult to recognize a person in the dim, early morning light. 

It could be that, similar to the road to Emmaus, their eyes may have been kept from recognizing him until he revealed himself through action. Then the breaking of the bread; now, the miraculous catch of fish. Mary did not recognize Jesus until He spoke aloud.

What might keep us from failing to recognize Jesus in our lives? Let me provide you a menu of options and you can check off the ones that apply to you:

Spiritual and Internal Factors such as a hard heart/pride can cause one to refuse revealed truth, Church teaching and more. This can blind individuals to the very nature of Jesus and thus His presence. A lack of spiritual perspective can obfuscate the divine, particularly when looking for Jesus in the needy. And there is the fear of change as when one realizes that following Jesus requires significant life changes 

Placing worldly pursuits, material possessions, and daily responsibilities above spiritual growth can crowd out recognition of Jesus.

Disbelief and misconceptions such as the demand for intellectual proof can block spiritual recognition. Another is being deceived by false doctrines, poor catechists or mistakenly believing they are already right with God. And there is the truly unfortunate: negative perceptions of Christian behavior or church hypocrisy can cause people to reject the message of Jesus.

Similar to the disciples’ experience, overwhelming sorrow or trauma can hinder the ability to recognize Jesus’ presence in daily life. Maybe it is as simple having expectations of how Jesus should appear or work, rather than seeing how he actually moves, can lead to missing Him.

And we are left with the question: how do you recognize Jesus in our life? How do you know you’ve not already failed to recognize Him?


Image credit: Meal of Our Lord and the Apostles | James Tissot, ~1880 | Brooklyn Museum of Art | PD-US

Now what

As a liturgical season, Lent is rather straightforward. It is kinda’ easy to write about. There is Ash Wednesday to dramatically mark its beginning, and we all know we are moving relentlessly towards Easter. We count the days even as we mark Lent’s beginning. The Ashes make a visible mark upon us, reminding us that we are dust and to dust we shall return – but that is not the end of the story. We are reminded to repent and believe in the Gospel – but that is not the end goal. We are encouraged to pray, fast, and give alms – but those practices are meant to make room in our lives for God that we too may rise to the newness of life at Eastertide.

Continue reading

But not for us

Good Friday always leaves me to wonder what it was like to have been one of the Apostles. The amazing high of Palm Sunday has crashed and burned in the last 24 hours. Jesus was arrested, tried, scourged, sentenced to death, forced to carry his cross to Golgotha where he is crucified and dies. Could this be happening to the one we thought was the Messiah? If death has taken Jesus what hope is there for us? Can you imagine what it would have been like to be one of the disciples realizing Love has been crucified? Love is taken away? Perhaps the English poet Robert Browning captures the moment: “Take away love and our earth is a tomb.”   That day long ago comes to an end and the apostles are left to wonder if this earth will slowly, inevitably become our tomb?

What about us? We gather to remember that day of long ago. We proclaim the Passion of the Lord and are asked to in some way relive the emotions and turmoil of the day. And, on this day of all days we are exposed to our greatest fear: death. It lies like a giant maw of a monster waiting to pull us into the darkness. We are reminded death will touch us all.

But it is not some nameless monster that lies in wait in the tomb. We are reminded that the one we have followed throughout the year, hearing the stories of his power and his mercy, He lies behind the stone. The Word of God made flesh. The Lamb of God. The very Love of God given to us in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. 

We are people who don’t have to live the next 40 hours or so tested, tormented, and taunted. We know how the story ends. We know the love we have for family and friends does not pass away at death’s door. A tomb can not vanquish love. Love eternally lives. We know that Love is indeed stronger than death. 

Allow me to borrow the words of another English poet, John Dunne. The poet speaks the story’s real ending; its truest ending

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so;
For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. ….

Thou’art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy’or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

We know what the disciples only later came to learn. That the glory of God, the fullness of love is fully revealed in the Cross. That the tomb cannot restrain and hold back Love

As a people of faith, we are here at the foot of the Cross. We know the story does not end here.

We are the keeper of the story – the story that the cross cannot destroy. The story that the tomb can not bind Love. We are the ones to tell the story of Hope – of the promise of love’s power over death We are called to speak these words into the tombs of our day when other stones close off people from the light and life of the world. We are called to be the disciples who go out from this day, through the glory of the 3rd day when Jesus will be raised from the tomb, to be people who roll the stone away from their entombment and shine the love of Christ into their world.

But for now we wait in the darkness of a day when Love seems to have died. But Death is not the final word.

Not for Jesus. Not for us.

Gallicantu

There have been many a Good Friday in the course of my life. I have heard the Passion narrative. I led the Passion narrative during Good Friday liturgies. Over the many years of Bible study I have covered the Passion narrative more than a few times. And now thru the gift of my friends Jerry and Maureen, I experienced Good Friday in a way not to ever be forgotten. Continue reading

In the Shadows

The gospel reading for the Wednesday of Holy week is always about Judas and his betrayal of Jesus. The day has the unofficial title of “Spy Wednesday.”  The story is well known. Judas accepts 30 pieces of silver from the religious leadership of Jerusalem to inform them of Jesus’ location so that the authorities could arrest Jesus. But why did Judas betray Jesus?

Perhaps the most straightforward reason is greed.  In today’s gospel it seems as though it is Judas who approaches the authorities: “What are you willing to give me if I hand him over to you?” In the Gospel of John 12:6, Judas is described as a thief who used to take from the common purse.  Greed as an explanation is supported by Scripture and as a lesson shows how small compromises can lead to grave sin. But then again, 30 pieces of silver is not a terribly large amount. Greed is not too compelling as an explanation. After all, why would someone who had traveled with the penniless rabbi for three years suddenly be consumed with greed? Maybe he saw the end coming and simply wanted to make the best of an increasingly hopeless situation.

Another widely held theory is that Judas expected a political Messiah who would overthrow Roman rule. When it became clear that Jesus was not going to pursue political change, Judas decided He wasn’t worth following. This gives rise to two different explanations. The first is a corollary to “greed”: cut my losses and might as well get some reward before I abandon Jesus. The second is an attempt to force Jesus’ hand.

One Scripture scholar, the late William Barclay, professor of divinity at Glasgow University suggested that the most compelling explanation is that in handing Jesus over to the Romans, Judas was trying to force Jesus to act in a decisive way. Barclay suggests that Judas expected the arrest would prompt Jesus to reveal himself as the long-awaited Messiah by overthrowing the Roman occupiers. 

St. Luke simply writes: “Then Satan entered into Judas, the one surnamed Iscariot, who was counted among the Twelve, and he went to the chief priests and temple guards to discuss a plan for handing him over to them.” The idea is similar in John 13:27. This does not remove Judas’ responsibility but indicates that his betrayal is part of a larger spiritual conflict. Catholic teaching is clear that Judas remains morally responsible for his choice. While there is something cosmically compelling about this explanation, it still leaves unanswered the question of why Judas allowed Satan to enter into his decision making. In any case, this reminds us that sin can open the door to deeper darkness

Many theologians see Judas’ betrayal less as a single motive and more as a gradual interior breakdown that perhaps began with small sins associated with dishonestly handling the money. One thing leads to another, there is a growing distance from Jesus leading to an increased loss of trust and then betrayal. If this has merit, it serves as a warning to a believer who remains externally close but internally drifts away.

The farther one is from the Light of Christ, one increasingly lives in the shadows. In the shadows you think you see it all, but it is only in the light that the truth can be known. Outside the light one forms their own plans and agendas. None of us think of ourselves as Judas, willing to betray Jesus. I doubt he did either. But the longer one is outside the Light of Christ…who knows?

The Apostle Peter has his shares of blunders and will deny knowing Jesus. But he is fundamentally in the Light where all good things are possible. He always returns to Jesus’ plan.

It is good to take time to discern where one stands in life and by whose plan one operates.


Image credit: Pact of Judas | Duccio di Buoninsegna, ca. 1310 |Museo dell’Opera metropolitana del Duomo, Florence | Public Domain

Outside the Light

The gospel readings in Holy week always speak about Judas and his betrayal of Jesus. The Gospel of Mark, for example, gives no motivation for Judas’s sudden betrayal. Matthew, writing a decade or so later than Mark, attempts to clarify things in his account by introducing the motive of greed: “What are you willing to give me if I hand him over to you?” asks Judas to the Jewish high priests. Luke simply writes: “Then Satan entered into Judas, the one surnamed Iscariot, who was counted among the Twelve, and he went to the chief priests and temple guards to discuss a plan for handing him over to them.” The Gospel of John parallels the avarice theme depicting Judas as a greedy keeper of the common purse. “He said this not because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief and held the money bag and used to steal the contributions.” Continue reading