Reflecting on Revelation 7, 9, 14b-17

It’s only during the seven weeks of the Easter season that we read from the book of Revelation, certainly the least understood book in the bible.  The book is not a secret code, to be cracked by those up on their conspiracy theories and watchings of the moon, to tell only the spiritual elite when the end of days will occur.

It is, however, a book written to comfort those who lived in Ephesus at the time Emperor Domitian introduced the cult of imperial Rome.  This was enforced participation in sacrifices and festivals that honored Domitian and his ancestors; yes, the very ones who had destroyed Jerusalem and its temple.  The Christians in Ephesus were horrified that they were expected to celebrate the murderers of their grandparents and parents.  Revelation is written to comfort those who would stand up, even to the point of death, to this imperative.

Vatican reporter John Allen has done much to educate us on the greatest era of brutal religious martyrdom, which is our own.  Every year, one hundred and fifty thousand people are martyred as a direct result of their faith, or the works of charity inspired by their faith.  Eighty percent of these martyrs are Christians. There were well over one million Christian martyrs in the twentieth century, and of course the Nazis murdered six million Jews on the pretext that “Christ killers” were not part of the Master Race.

We don’t hear of these martyrdoms much because we hope that we live in more enlightened times, where religion isn’t used as an excuse to take land and lives.  But the blood of the martyrs of El Salvador and Nigeria and Kenya and Turkey and Iraq and Korea says otherwise.  We must not forget them.

What would YOU like to say about this question, or today’s readings, or any of the columns from the past year? The sacred conversations are setting a Pentecost fire! Register here today and join the conversation.

I have come to light a fire on the earth; how I wish it were already burning (Lk.12:49).

Reflecting on John 21: 1-19

Do you have a place in your life where you and Jesus rendezvous?  Is there a chair in your house, or a park in your neighborhood, or a conversation with a friend, where Jesus always shows up?  It’s interesting that Peter, after the horrors of his denial of Jesus, and the mysteries of that Easter empty tomb, didn’t know what to do next but to go fishing.  I think he just longed for Jesus so much that he set out to find him where he himself was found.  We know from the other gospels that it was while Peter was fishing that Jesus first called him.

Vocation, says St. Francis de Sales, is nothing more than just doing what you were doing when God found entry into your heart.  Were you, at some point in your life, supple and open to God’s voice?  Whatever you were doing then, keep doing that.  That’s vocation.

Peter, burdened with guilt yet filled with hope, set out that day in his boat.  I don’t think he was looking for fish.  He was looking for Jesus.  And oh, how he, exhausted from the night’s fruitless work, leapt into the water to meet him when the Beloved Disciple cried, “It’s the Lord!”  And he found Jesus right there, near the charcoal fire, a fire that perhaps reminded him of that other charcoal fire, the one in Caiaphas’ courtyard, where he  had denied him just days before.

No matter.  He had the grace to go fishing, and Jesus fished him right out of the water.  He was released from the nets of guilt and shame that strangled him, and set free to be the slave of Christ.

Where do you go to meet Jesus?

What would YOU like to say about this question, or today’s readings, or any of the columns from the past year? The sacred conversations are setting a Pentecost fire! Register here today and join the conversation.

I have come to light a fire on the earth; how I wish it were already burning (Lk.12:49).

Reflecting on John 20: 19-31

I love the word mercy. I love its musical sound when spoken, and the heart’s warm release when it is received and lodged there.  I love the feeling of extending mercy, especially because I have had so much mercy extended to me.

This Lent has been an immersion in mercy.  Just like me, that barren fig tree got still another year to shape up and start bearing fruit.  The lost son was welcomed home so ecstatically that I’ll bet the resentful neighbors were scandalized.  The woman caught in adultery found only mercy when she waited for Jesus to acknowledge her.  I think we could all feel his heart break for her as he scribbled in the sand.  I wonder if he was so mortified by the behavior of her accusers that he was embarrassed to look at her.

Mercy just feels good, and I’ll bet that’s God way of getting us to give it more often.  I’ll bet it was even more exciting for Jesus to let Thomas feel his wounds than it was for Thomas to touch them and realize that this was truly his crucified Lord, the one who lives.  Oh, the mercy in that upper room that first Easter night!  Thomas was so transformed by the experience that tradition tells us he traveled all the way to India to tell of that mercy over and over again.

Do you long for a closer connection with Christ this Easter?  Here’s the surefire answer: extend mercy to everyone you meet.  I can hear the Risen One laughing and clapping and sending more and more mercy your way.  That’s Easter.  Thanks be to God, Alleluia!  Alleluia.

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I have come to light a fire on the earth; how I wish it were already burning (Lk.12:49).

We may have received Easter a little early this year when the cardinal who chose the name “Francis” ascended to the Chair of Peter.  The Catholic imagination runs wild.

Here’s a good Easter question: Who is your favorite saint? The answer might open up a life-changing conversation about the power of deaths and risings.

One of the most revealing things I learned early on about my husband Ben is that Francis Xavier is his favorite saint.   Why?  Because he was, in many things, a dismal failure.  True, he was one of the founders of the Jesuits.  He traveled to and lived in Asia all of his religious life.  He even baptized the occasional convert there, but his religion, based in the faith of a crucified God, made most of the native peoples uncomfortable.  He took heart, though, in his upcoming voyage to China.  There, he would make converts.  But he died of a fever while waiting for a boat to take him to the mainland.

Oh, and the initial vow that those first Jesuits made, along with poverty, chastity and obedience?  They would convert the Muslims in the Middle East.  We see how that worked out.

In taking the name “Francis”, then, our new pope invoked the faithfulness-in-the-face-of-failure of Francis Xavier.  Ben loves him because he, too, has struggled against the tide in striving to really live the gospel.  He’s failed many times in his heroic attempts to enlist others in causes he feels are vital.  St. Francis Xavier is his model and friend.  They both “failed up”, which is a beautiful term to describe the grace and gifts that rise from “failure”.

So, in taking the beloved name of Francis the Holy Father has invoked the perseverance of Francis Xavier, as well as the humility and reform imaged by the little man of Assisi.  And don’t forget St. Frances Cabrini’s warm love of the children of the poor, or the gentle, humorous bishop of Geneva, St. Francis de Sales.  Pope Francis has brought each of these beloved saints into our consciousness once again.

We need a little Easter, right this very minute. May the stone of bitterness and betrayal be rolled away, and may Christ our Light illumine a new dawn.  St. Francis, pray for us.

Who do you know whose name is a derivative of Francis?

What would YOU like to say about this question, or today’s readings, or any of the columns from the past year? The sacred conversations are setting a Pentecost fire! Register here today and join the conversation.

I have come to light a fire on the earth; how I wish it were already burning (Lk.12:49).

Reflecting on Luke 9:11b-17

Mosaic found in Church of the Multiplication of the Loaves and Fish - Tabgha, Galilee, Israel

It must have been hot at that deserted place in Bethsaida when the crowds came out to see Jesus—to hear him—to be touched and healed by him.  And when the day was drawing to a close they must have started to feel uncomfortable. They were hungry, but they wouldn’t leave the place where Jesus was. They couldn’t take the chance that he might be gone when they came back.

These days it’s the Job Fairs that draw the huge crowds.  The sad numbers of unemployed form a line that snakes around the block and up the stairs and out into the parking lots.  They wait in the cold and the heat for a chance to fill out still another job application.  And even when it rains they won’t leave their precious place in line—they can’t take the chance that others will stay and get the few jobs left.

I think I saw Jesus standing with them the other day.  He and some of his friends had put together some sandwiches and coffee and were passing them around.  The crowd was huge, but it looked like they’d all received more than they needed.

I saw him again last week at the Cancer Center.  One of the patients there had just received a poor prognosis.  Everyone around her—the doctors, the nurses, the patients—rallied around to comfort and strengthen her.

And I saw him in the news, working in Haiti and Chile, comforting the afflicted and holding them close.  And, always, I see him in the breaking of the bread.

Happy Feast Day, Church.  He is Really, Really Present.

Sharing God’s Word at Home:

On this Feast of the Eucharist, in what ways do you see Christ Really Present in the world?

What would YOU like to say about this question, or today’s readings, or any of the columns from the past year?  The sacred conversations are setting a Pentecost fire!  Register here today and join the conversation.

Photo of ancient mosaic on the floor of the Church of the Multiplication of the Loaves and Fish in Tabgha, Israel.  How many loaves are in the basket?  Go to the archives for 18th Sunday Ordinary Time B to read more.

Reflecting on Proverbs 8:22-31

Based on an icon by Andrei Rublev in the Tretyakov Museum, Moscow

Who are the people who decided the first reading for this Sunday?  I want to thank them personally for choosing that beautiful passage from the book of Proverbs (8:22-31) as the best section of the entire Old Testament to portray the work of God the Creator.  Did you hear it?  The creator of the universe had a playmate, a friend who played on the surface of the earth, who was with God at first, before the earth.  And of course that playmate was the Holy Spirit.

Ah, Wisdom (Holy Spirit).  You were God’s partner when the mountains settled into place, and when the limits of the sea were measured out you were there, delighting God day by day.

The other two readings today give us the Second and Third Persons of the Trinity as we usually think of them:  Jesus, the peace-giver, and the Holy Spirit, the truth-giver.  But oh, how lovely to think of the First Person through the poetry of Proverbs—the delighted, artistic, musical, wondrous creator of all that is.  Our universe is shot through with Wisdom, and we live in its endless mysteries.

Of course, our beloved dead whom we remember and honor this Memorial Day weekend know that Wisdom now in a much richer way than we who wait in joyful hope for the day we are reunited with them.  They know the Trinity intimately, as the never-ending love of God drawing us home.

Sharing God’s Word at Home:

Do you feel a special closeness to one of the Persons of the Trinity?

And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit

A PENTECOST SEQUENCE

Come, oh Holy Spirit, come!

And make our timid hearts your own.

In Juarez, blow your mighty wind.

In Haiti, Spirit, enter in.

In war zones here and far away

Let your healing love hold sway.

Change our hearts, our hates, our lives.

Touch the place where meanness thrives.

Come, oh Spirit, open wide

The doors we like to hide behind.

The wounds we hold, the hurts we feed―

Help us, Spirit, to be freed.

And on this Feast Day, give us light

To feel His presence in the night.

Our sadness gone, our faith restored

Proclaims that Jesus Christ is Lord.

Can you remember a time when the Spirit let you see that God was near?

Reflecting on Luke 24: 44-53

To be honest, we still don’t really know what happened.  We saw him crucified on that tree.  We watched the whole terrifying thing from a distance.  People are saying that he turned to the thief next to him and told him that he would be with him that very day in Paradise.  And then of course we all saw the eclipse of the sun, and even those of us at a safe distance heard him cry out, Father, into your hands I commend my spirit. And then he breathed his last.

And as they were looking on, he was lifted up

But I’m sure you’ve heard what happened next.  People are talking about it all over Jerusalem and even up in Galilee.  His body is gone from the tomb.  He has appeared to two of our number as they were returning to Emmaus.  Cephas saw him too, and then he came to us while we were hiding in the same room where we had our last meal with him.  And he wasn’t a ghost, he was really alive!  And we are still incredulous with joy!  Somehow he opened our memories and our understanding.  Life as we knew it is completely different now.

Today we were with him again.  He led us out towards Bethany and said the most beautiful words to us.  We are to be his witnesses, even to the ends of the earth.  And he promised to send us power from the Holy Spirit in just a few days!  We don’t know what that means, but we won’t leave the city until it happens.  What will the spirit do?  How will we be changed?  Is it possible that, once again, a great miracle will happen here?  We wait in joyful hope.

Sharing God’s Word at Home:

As we anticipate the great feast of Pentecost, what gifts of the Spirit would you most like to experience in a more powerful way?

Reflecting on the journeys of Paul and Barnabas

Don’t you hate it when people misquote you or mislead other people about you?  Think how infuriating it must have been for Paul and Barnabas when those “brothers” from Judea showed up in Antioch and tried to upset the peace of the Gentiles there who had received Christ.  What? You were baptized but not circumcised? No, no, that’s not what Jesus demands.  He expects all Gentile men to behave like Jews if they want to be saved.  We know what Jesus wants.  We’re the authorities.  Don’t listen to Paul.  What does he know?  He never even knew Jesus.

Journeys of Paul

It’s scary to think about what would have happened to the world if Paul had caved into that.  If he hadn’t trusted completely in the Spirit’s guidance to open the way of salvation to the Gentiles, the Jesus Movement would certainly have died out before the end of the first century.  Instead, the Holy Spirit inspired him to ask an entirely revolutionary thought: could it be that Jesus is for all of us? And once he knew the answer to that, nothing could stop him from bringing Christ to the Gentiles of the ancient world, and so to us.

I guess that’s the Spirit’s signature work―to open our hearts wide enough for Jesus to do something wonderful and new.  Something new.  I like the sound of that.  Pentecost awaits.

Sharing God’s Word at Home

Can you sense the Spirit urging you to do something new and wonderful?

Reflecting on Revelation 21:1-5

Ah…May.  Is there a more delicious celebration of the senses?  And how on earth does it all happen?  The bush outside our window has been empty and barren and boring for months and months, and just in time for Earth Day last week it popped open with the most gorgeous pinks and whites. And now all the trees on the block are clapping their hands and saying, Ha!!  Look what we’ve been getting ready for all winter!  And we did it right in front of your eyes and you didn’t even notice!! Surprise!!!

Colors of Spring

But these days my husband Ben, whose carbon footprint is nearly undetectable, is staring with astonishment as I start up the car for the one-mile drive to church.  Uh oh.  I guess the world’s resources aren’t mine alone.  Even the ancient author of the Book of Revelation knew that someday the former heaven and earth would pass away, but why should I contribute to that event before God’s own time?

Listen to Pope Benedict XVII in his address for the World Day of Peace 2010:  We must ensure that human activity does not compromise the fruitfulness of the earth, for the benefit of people now and in the future…If you want to cultivate peace, protect creation… As we care for creation we realize that God, through creation, cares for us.

I love that.  I remember all those long talks I had with God as I rode my Schwinn through the apple-blossomed Mays of my youth. God was caring for me then, mediating grace through the exquisite beauty of nature.

Okay, maybe just this once I’ll try biking to church.

Google World Day of Peace 2010 to read the entire papal address.

Sharing God’s Word at Home:

In what ways do you experience God’s care for you as you care for creation?