Category Archives: Sunday Morning

Memory

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Memory is an interesting thing.  I always secretly chuckle when someone asks me, “Father, do you remember your homily from five weeks ago?”  I generally respond, “What did you find interesting about it?”  as an alternative to the simple, “No.”  

There are many theories around the topic of memory apart from where the memory is associated with specific events, a general occurrence, personal experience, and more. Whatever the memory, we have to “register” the memory, store it and then recall it.  A recent study proposed there is a six-stage neuro-chemical process that has to occur for a memory to be retained long-term. Want an example. Consider dreams. Why can we remember some dreams in vivid and exacting detail, but other dreams just seem to dissolve into nothingness. Memory is a mysterious thing.

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In just a few words

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There was a website called “twenty-twowords.”  The original idea was an on-going challenge of expressing yourself on some topic in 22 words or less. There were different categories, like “my life so far” or “which Star Wars character are you and why.” You have to answer each one with only 22 words. One of my favorites, in the category of “describe your greatest experience,” was, “I am in a hospital. A nurse hands me a screaming baby and I sat there, looking down, and said, ‘Hello son.”

Today’s gospel carries a message of the greatest challenge. Jesus’ response runs 33 words in English, but the effect is the same. For in these 33 words he leaves his disciples and us with as clear a summary of the Christian life as one could possibly want.: “love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another. This is how all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

In his book Surprised By Joy, CS Lewis describes being at a very proper English tea, standing there with an overly filled cup, when, quite by accident, someone bumped into him, causing the jostled cup to spill some of its content out.  Later, when reflecting on that most ordinary of things, he noted that life is that a lot like that.  If we want to know that with which we have filled our life, we only need to be jostled by life to see what spills out. Would that I could tell you that every bump in the road reveals an outpouring of love from the teacup of my life.

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The still small voice

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“My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me. (John 10:27)

In many ways the stories of the Bible highlight people hearing God call their names and they respond by following. Noah heard his name called, built an ark, and saved lives. Abraham and Sarah heard their names called, traveled to a land not their own, and became our parents in faith. Moses heard his name and set his people free. The prophet Samuel heard his name called and responded, “Here I am Lord. Your servant is listening.” Hosea, Isaiah, Ezekiel, Jeremiah and all the prophets heard their names called and followed.

Mary the mother of Jesus heard her name and said, “Yes.”

Peter, James, John and Andrew heard their names called and followed, leaving boats and nets behind.

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What kind of leader do we want?

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Certainly a good question with the papal conclave scheduled to start in four days. I have lived during the pontificates of seven popes and in my lifetime we have certainly had a wide variety of types and styles of leaders. In our history, we have had 266 popes. We have had some spectacularly amazing leaders, saints in the making, and we have had some spectacularly horrific leaders, who would have been quite at home in Game of Thrones (so I hear, I actually haven’t seen it…).  All took up the Keys of Peter, with the same job description given Peter: feed my sheep; tend my lambs. The Pope is the most visible of leaders in the Church, but not the only ones with that same job description. The simple mandate, “feed my sheep; tend my lambs” applies to priests, pastors, parents, principals, police, and anyone who would lead – anyone who would answer the call to minister in the Holy Name of Jesus.

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Doors

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There are all kinds of doors in life.  

Doors that lead to new life.  We pass through them and life is changed.  Passing through the doors of high school graduation to the new world called college.  Entering a common life through the doors of marriage – or vows as a Franciscan friar.  What was the most significant/memorable door you have passed through into a new life? I bet almost everyone’s passing was accompanied by trepidation, uncertainty – maybe a tinge of fear – and yet we commit and we pass through to new life.

Not so with all doors.  There are doors that lock us out.  

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A Story in Three Acts

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It seems to me that if we have been attentive and following all the events of Holy Week, it is possible to discern a play written in three acts. The curtain rises with a prelude: an intimate act of Mary anointing Jesus’ feet. An act rich in meaning and done in love. Then begins Act 1. It is a scene worthy of a large screen. Palm Sunday as the disciples and believers welcome Jesus into Jerusalem, the royal city, the long-awaited Messiah King.

Act 1 continues with a quiet scene, away from the bustling crowds of Passover, with a last meal with his closest friends and disciples. It is then, at the most sacred table fellowship of the Jewish faith, that Jesus shows the disciples the meaning of the proto-Eucharist just celebrated. On bended knee Jesus washes the feet of his disciples. It was an embodied parable of what it means to be a Eucharistic people: love and service. As the curtain falls on Act 1 and when we consider the meaning of Act 1, it is clear, it is love portrayed.

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Betwixt and Between

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I have to admit that Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion leaves me feeling betwixt-and-between. In the flow of the Lenten readings it seems like there is the building wave of love and goodness and so filled with the presence of God. On the 2nd Sunday of Lent we shared the story of the Transfiguration

On the 3rd Sunday there was the owner of the orchard that wanted to cut down the fig tree that had not borne fruit in three seasons. But the gardener interceded, asking for time, promising to give special care and attention in hope that the fig tree would bear fruit. Lent is like that special time given to us, letting us know the divine gardener watches over us: the presence of God.

On the 4th Sunday was the story of the Prodigal Son. I love the image of the father always on the lookout for us, praying we would return home from our misadventures. Even before we can explain or apologize, we are embraced, welcomed home, and know we are deeply loved: the presence of God.

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The Rearview

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Part of life is often seen in the rearview mirror. Repentance and conversion need the rearview mirror – to see what has been and to begin to think what is possible. Lots of things can be seen in that mirror – memories good and bad, wisdom, information about the choices we’ve made, … and regret. 

Two Sundays ago, we heard the parable of the barren fruit tree. We can all look into the rearview mirror of our lives and recognize barren periods. We may regret the loss of opportunity, the wasted efforts….and more. While the vineyard owner wanted to lay the axe to the tree and make room for a tree that will bear fruit, the gardener wants one more year.  A year for change, a year for repentance.  When we look into that rearview mirror of life, we can see our barren periods and regret, but in that same moment do we also see the continuing patience of God with us who had not yet given evidence of the fruit of repentance, of conversion? Can we see past regret to the hand of mercy upon us?

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Hope for Us All

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“A man had two sons …” (Luke 15:11) – such is the beginning of the beloved and well-known Parable of the Prodigal Son. But you know Scripture doesn’t come with titles for such things. That’s just what the parable has always been called. But we could call it something else. The Parable of the Waiting Father? Or perhaps the Parable of the Petulant Older Brother? I guess it all depends on what draws your interest and attention. What about you? Where are your thoughts drawn: to the younger son’s selfish greed, the older son’s arrogant fury, or perhaps the patient father’s extravagant love?

The younger son is a distant figure for me. I hope I have little in common with him – in the beginning he is impulsive, cavalier, inappropriately demanding, disrespectful and more. At first blush, I have nothing in common. At least I hope not. I have never run away, squandered gifts given to me, or led a life “a life of dissipation” as it says in scripture. Looking for some synonyms for “dissipation?” You can try, “debauchery, overindulgence, degeneracy, intemperance” at worst, but at best, we are still left with “reckless” and “unthinking.” But neither have I felt the ardent, tear-soaked embrace of a loving father welcoming me home – but then I never left. And so, I have never encountered the wild, unfettered love of reconciliation.

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Asking “why”

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Maybe we should call this “Second Chance Sunday.” The first reading is the well-known story of Moses and the burning bush. But one needs to remember the reason Moses is out tending sheep in the desert of Midian is that he murdered a man back in Egypt and is on-the-run from the authorities. Yet God will give him a second chance and a major role in rescuing the Israelites from slavery. That’s a heck of a second chance. He takes advantage of it. Moses is leading a flock of sheep now, but will soon be leading the people of God in their Exodus to the promised land. Continue reading →