Sunday, September 22, 2024

God-Thinking

God-Thinking
September 22, 2024    25th Sunday in Ordinary Time - B
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi


Have you ever experienced a time in your life where you were trying to focus on something or get something done but kept getting interrupted or side-tracked?  Of course you have.  We all have.  Whether it is a mother with small children who’s trying to get work done but has to stop and tend to some need of her child, or the teacher in the classroom that struggles with the different personalities and learning styles of their students, or the employee that gets pulled away from doing their job in order to attend another boring meeting, we’ve all been there. And it can be even more frustrating when we sense the urgency of what needs to be done but we can’t convey that urgency to others.

I see that in the opening of today’s Gospel.  Jesus knows that his time is running out, and he needs to impress upon his disciples the urgency of his mission and to prepare them for what’s coming.  He’s trying to avoid interruptions by traveling with them privately as he teaches them – and they just don’t get it.  And he knows it.

If there is a common theme between all of today’s readings, it might be the emphasis on “right-thinking”.  And all three readings point out our conflict between God-Thinking and Man-Thinking.

Our brief reading from the Book of Wisdom, while emphasizing what the wicked want to do to the just one, unfortunately misses the context of the verses leading up to and immediately following it – namely, that the wicked are only thinking within an earthly context. Chapter 2 opens with “For, not thinking rightly, they said among themselves: “Brief and troubled is our lifetime; there is no remedy for our dying, nor is anyone known to have come back from Hades…

They use that earthly rationale as justification for the evil they were going to do to the just one, a prophetic message concerning Jesus.

The chapter ends with: “These were their thoughts, but they erred; for their wickedness blinded them, and they did not know the hidden counsels of God; neither did they count on a recompense for holiness nor discern the innocent souls’ reward.  For God formed us to be imperishable; the image of his own nature he made us…

It's the difference between Man-thinking and God-thinking.

James, too, emphasizes the struggles we cause ourselves through our earthly passions and desires without understanding that true wisdom and its fruits – the rewards – which come with it are not earthly, but spiritual. But since we do not seek Wisdom from God first, we allow the conflicts we face to come from within us, from those same passions, since they are not oriented rightly toward God.  

We are still at war today with those same conflicts – and not just externally with world conflicts or our own struggle for survival.  We place ourselves in conflict with ourselves and those around us when we want what we don’t have, and it often disturbs us when others have something – health, wealth, power – that we don’t.  We’re frustrated when we think we’re doing everything right and we still don’t get what we think we deserve.  

Even when we ask that God take away the trials we face, to intervene and take our side in our daily conflicts – we usually do so from a self-centered viewpoint.  We can’t help it.  We are raised and indoctrinated by society to seek “the good life” here on earth, and like the Jews of Jesus’ day, we think that any evil that befalls us, any time our prayers appear to go unanswered, it’s because we’ve done something wrong or we aren’t trying hard enough.  Again, Man-thinking, not God-thinking.

Finally, we hear Jesus tell his disciples, for the second time, that he is going to be murdered in a very short time, but it won’t be the end of his mission – their mission.  The Kingdom of God is coming, and it won’t be like anything they thought it would be.  But they are so busy with Man-Thinking they did not understand.  They just didn’t get it.  

Who can blame them?  Jewish beliefs of the time always talked about the coming of an earthly Messiah and the glory and majesty of God’s Kingdom and its earthly rewards.  The death of Jesus would be contradictory to what they’ve been taught to believe.  After all, if he was the Messiah, and the Savior had to be one who wielded great power and authority, right?  And as his chosen ones, they would share in that power and authority.  No wonder they were arguing about who would be in charge of what.  

Jesus is blunt.  He tells them that in order to be in charge they would have to be servants, and the one who would be the greatest would have to be the servant of all the rest.
 
We might say that he was trying to “bring the disciples down to earth”.  Actually, he was trying to raise them up to a greater awareness of God-Thinking, and break them of their earthly thoughts.

To reinforce that awareness, he takes a small child and places it in the middle of the group.  Now in Jewish society, a child was definitely not a sign of authority.  But Jesus used the child not only as a sign of humble servitude, but by putting his arms around the child, Jesus emphasized God’s love for them.

That is God’s message to us as well.  In the midst of the conflicts of our lives, we are called to be Children of God.  That doesn’t mean that the conflict will leave us, only that our response to it should be to entrust it to God Himself.  

It is hard to see the big picture from God’s perspective.  We often can’t understand His will for us, or we don’t want to.  And how often do we just ignore something that we don’t understand?

Our challenge today is the same one that faced the disciples – learning to think as God.  Scriptures tell us that we cannot completely know the Mind of God, but we can always pray for that Wisdom, as St. James points out, which comes from above – from God.  And despite the distractions and demands of our earthly life, with God’s help we can work to accept His Will in our lives, which through His Love is meant to orient us toward heaven.  And after all, isn’t it a heavenly kingdom that we should be seeking, not an earthly one?

Sunday, September 15, 2024

Follow the Leader

Follow the Leader
September 15, 2024    24th Sunday of Ordinary Time - B
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi

“Who do you say that I am?”  

With these seven words, Jesus puts his disciples on the spot.  

Picture yourself as one of the disciples.  Or better yet, picture yourself as Peter.  How would you answer?  You have been a follower of Jesus for some time now, and up to this point, through the first 7 chapters of Mark’s Gospel, you would have seen Jesus in action as he:

  • Cured many people including YOUR (Peter's) mother-in-law, a leper, a paralytic, a man with a withered hand, a woman with hemorrhages, a Syro-Phoenician woman’s daughter, a deaf man who also couldn't speak, and a blind man
  • Freed men who were possessed by evil spirits
  • Preached many parables and then explained them to you
  • Rebuked the wind and calmed the violent sea - twice
  • Walked on water
  • Fed 5000 men with five loaves and two fish, then later fed another 4000 men with seven loaves and a few fish
  • Raised Jairus’ daughter from the dead
  • Selected you and 11 others to be his Apostles

Pretty impressive, don’t you think?  Now, after all of these signs, Jesus turns to YOU, and asks, “Who do people say that I am?”

I try to imagine how he might have asked that question.  I mean, you’re all walking along the road, right? Headed for another town, kind of chatting among yourselves. No cell phones or other electronics to distract you. 

So, would he have asked the question in a casual sort of way?  “Hey guys, what do you think – who do people say that I am?  Or, would he have been more direct: “OK, tell me – who do people say that I am?”

In either case, the answers your fellow disciples give echo the same answers given to King Herod when he asked about Jesus earlier in Mark’s Gospel, shortly after he had John the Baptist executed.  His counselors tell him that Jesus might be John raised up from the dead, or he was Elijah, or he was just another prophet.  (Herod’s choice – Jesus was John whom he beheaded come back from the dead. From a guilty conscience, no doubt.)

But then, Jesus stops and puts you on the spot.
“But who do YOU say that I am?”

As Peter, in your usual brash and impulsive way, you jump right in.  “You are the CHRIST!”  Boldly!  With a sense of pride, maybe?  That sense of privilege that comes from being part of the elite inner circle? In Matthew’s Gospel Jesus even blesses you and promises you the keys to the kingdom of heaven. You’re probably feeling pretty smug about now, right?  You are Peter.  The Apostle.  The Rock.

But NOW, after all you’ve seen and heard, Jesus begins to teach you about how he has to suffer and die.  He’s being brutally honest with you, not hiding anything or pulling any punches.  He will rise again but he will be murdered. You refuse to believe it.

Who would blame you?  After all, think of all the wonderful signs that you’ve seen Jesus do, what you have heard him say. How could anything happen to him?  He’s the CHRIST!  He can do ANYTHING!

I think Peter may even be a little bit condescending.  He REBUKES Jesus!  And, isn’t there times in our own lives when we are so sure that we know more than those around us, especially to those closest to us, we presume we need to help them, correct them?

But Jesus is swift to turn on Peter and condemn his attitude of arrogance.  “You are thinking like a creature of earth, not of heaven.  Not as God does.”  Ouch.

Often, we don’t want to think like God.  We tend to develop a false sense of security and confidence when everything is going so well that we believe that it won’t change, and we refuse to believe that anything could possibly go wrong.  We would rather live in denial than admit that something tragic could happen to someone we know. To someone we love.  To US.  Jesus senses this in his followers and so he knows he must prepare them for the reality that is coming – His Passion and their own future crosses.  Not a future of earthly kingdoms and treasures, but a future of heavenly promises and an eternity with God.

Jesus turned from his disciples and called the rest of the crowd to him.  He challenged them - just as he challenges us – with a tough command:  Whoever wishes to follow me must deny himself and take up his own cross, and bring it to me. It sometimes reminds me of the old children’s game, “Follow the Leader”, where we may not know where the leader is going, but we must do whatever the leader does, or risk losing the game.

THAT’S who Jesus is.  He is our leader, and where he goes, we must follow.

One final point.  When we think about what is “our cross”, we may have a tendency to assume that Jesus only means our own personal problems.  That would be thinking as human beings do, but not as God does.  In God’s eyes, the cross we must pick up is often the cross of another, as Jesus points out in the parable of the sheep and the goats: “Whatever you do for the least, you do for me.

And in his message today, St. James is blunt.  You cannot have faith in God if you do not act when you see someone in distress and you have the ability to do so. If we profess to be Christians - and to be a Christian is to follow Jesus our Leader - then when we see someone in distress, we must act according to our abilities.  That is our Cross, and we must embrace it willingly.  That is the only sure way to save our lives for eternity.

So, what is the correct answer to the question: “Who is Jesus?”  

The Messiah?  Our King?  God?  

All of the above.  He is our leader.  Follow Him.

 

 

Sunday, August 11, 2024

Divine Nourishment

Divine Nourishment
August 11, 2024    19th Sunday of Ordinary Time - B
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi


In today’s first reading, Elijah is TIRED.  Not just physically, as from lack of sleep or physical exercise.  But emotionally – spiritually – he’s worn out.  He’s obeyed the Lord and overcome the prophets of Baal, but even though he “won”, he feels despair as now he’s being hunted because Queen Jezebel wants him dead.

We should take a moment to recap Elijah’s story.  I find it interesting that we don’t have much of a back-story for him – unlike the prophets Jeremiah or Isaiah or Ezekiel who talk about their “calling”, we don’t know how Elijah was called – and the Bible doesn’t contain a “book” dedicated to his writings and actions, like many of the other prophets.  

In fact, the historical record of his actions is really only found in the 1st and 2nd Book of Kings, although he is named in not only the Old and New Testaments (including Sirach and Malachi), but in the Jewish Talmud and Mishnah, and even in Islam’s Quran.  All three of the Synoptic Gospels has him with Moses conversing with Jesus during the Transfiguration, and Jesus himself refers to John the Baptist as the fulfillment of the prophecy from Malachi of the coming of Elijah the prophet.  His role in salvation history is pivotal to our faith.

The story of Elijah can be divided into three parts. The first describes how he proclaimed a drought on God’s authority and how he survived the drought, the second is how he ended the drought by destroying the prophets of Baal and bringing the populace back to exclusive worship of the Lord. The third part has Elijah despairing at his sense of failure of his prophetic mission, his journey to Mount Horeb to resign from his prophetic office, and God picking his successor.

So today we have Elijah, having fled Jezebel and King Ahab, sitting under a broom tree. He’s a fugitive; he’s tired, and he asks God to let him die.

It probably isn’t hard to imagine how he’s feeling.  How many times in our own lives have we felt that weariness – that sense of depression, of not wanting to go on.  Maybe we think we’ve done everything right, or at least not everything wrong, and yet it seems like the world is still out to get us. We cry to God: “It isn’t fair!  I’m tired, Lord, and I don’t want to fight anymore.  I don’t have the strength to face whatever is to come. Let me go.”

But God wasn’t through with Elijah, and He’s not done with us, either. He feeds Elijah with heavenly food, brought to him by an angel. He gives us Himself through Jesus in the Eucharist.

This is not the first time Elijah received miraculous food.  The first was when ravens brought him meat and bread as he fled the first time from King Ahab; the second was when he was living with the widow and her son in Zarephath and the flour and oil miraculously didn’t run dry during the three years of the drought.  And the bread and water that he received today will give him the strength to travel another 40 days until he reaches Mount Horeb, where he will find out what God has planned for him next.

Which brings us to today’s Gospel, the continuation of Jesus’ Discourse on the Bread of Life.  We’ve been reading from it for the last two Sundays, and we’ll continue to read from it for the next two Sundays as well.  Throw in Easter and Corpus Christi Sundays and the couple of others which focus on the Last Supper and it’s easy to see why the Church holds that the Eucharist is the “source and summit” of our faith.  But why?

Because We Need Food To Live, To Give Us Strength For Our Journey.

We need to always keep in mind the context of the nature of the food that Jesus is talking about whenever He refers to Himself as the Bread of Life.  He’s not talking about nourishment for just the physical part of our journey, although that is important to us.  But He is spiritual food, and without it we cannot complete the most important part of the journey – the spiritual part.

At all times our lives are a journey through life. We know the destination.  Heaven.  And we know that the journey is both physical and spiritual.

We are like a train, and our life path follows the two rails which allow a train to travel.  Without both rails, the train cannot move.  And just as we need physical nourishment for our bodies, we also need spiritual food for our soul in order to reach our destination.

God knew Elijah needed food.  Elijah didn’t.  Elijah wanted to give up – to die.  God wouldn’t let him.  Note that it says that the angel woke him and ordered him to eat – not once, but twice.  The angel told him that if he didn’t eat, that the journey would be too long.

When we are physically tired or ill, it can be hard to eat.  Often, food doesn’t even sound good.  Often, we can’t even appreciate the flavor of food.  Especially when we are ill, food just doesn’t taste “right”.

I think the same can be said for our need for spiritual food.  When we are hurt or tired or emotionally drained, sometimes we think it would be better if we could just “sleep”.  We want to give up before we can even find out what God has planned for us, or even why we are going through whatever it is that we face.

Whether we recognize it or not, God sends His angels to order us to get up and eat.  He sends us His Son to nourish us in the Scriptural Words we hear, and in His Divine Presence in the Eucharist.

Sometimes it can be hard to recognize spiritual food. The Eucharist usually still tastes like the bread it was before consecration, and I can easily fall asleep while reading the Bible or other spiritual sources.  Honestly, if I cannot sleep at night, I will begin reciting the Rosary and there’s been very few times that God’s angels haven’t had to finish it for me.

But in the journey of life, it takes some sort of spiritual help to persevere.  I’ve been reading an interesting book called, “The Way of A Pilgrim” by an anonymous Russian writer.  In it, the author details his spiritual journey to discover what St. Paul means when he says to “pray without ceasing”, and how, even when he faced obstacles, how God sent guides to journey with him. And when all else fails, to pray: “Lord Jesus, Son of God, Have Mercy on Me.”  It is good advice to all of us.

Remember, we need spiritual food just as much as physical food. And so, come, nourish yourself in His Divine Presence.

 

Sunday, July 28, 2024

A Meal of Love

A Meal of Love
July 28, 2024    Seventeenth Sunday of Ordinary Time - B
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi

Ever notice how often Scriptures talk about one of my favorite subjects: FOOD?  Today we hear about Food.  Lots of food.  Enough food to feed large gatherings of people, although it doesn’t seem like it at first.  

Let’s start with Elisha.  In our first reading from the second book of Kings, Elisha takes an offering of 20 barley loaves and a few ears of grain and feeds over 100 people.  And, when they are finished eating, there is food left over.
As for our Gospel passage today, well it isn’t often that we see the same story with the same key points echoed all four Gospels, but the story from today’s Gospel is one of the rare occasions where they all agree.  They all begin fundamentally the same:

  • Jesus leads His disciples away from the crowds (in John today he crosses Sea of Galilee; in Matthew he withdraws in a boat (by himself); in Mark he travels in a boat with his disciples; and in Luke’s version he just withdraws with disciples (no boat).
  • At his destination, Jesus preaches (Jn, Mk); heals (Mt); or preaches and heals (Lk)

And in all four:

  • There are 5,000 men present.
  • All they had to start with are 5 barley loaves and 2 fish, and
  • There are 12 baskets of food left over.

Take a moment and let it sink in, because I don’t think we comprehend the significance of the event.  Jesus starts with only 5 loaves and a couple of fish, and feeds over 5000 with food left over.  It is a sign so important that all 4 evangelists recorded it.

Now, we often hear in Scriptures about food in the context of large, communal gatherings.  For example, there’s the manna and quail in the desert that feeds the Israelites for 40 years; there’s the copious amount of wine created out of water at the wedding feast at Cana; and of course, in today’s Gospel we hear about Jesus feeding the 5000.  Even in today’s Responsorial Psalm – Psalm 145 – we acknowledge in thanksgiving that it is “The hand of the Lord [that] feeds us; he answers all our needs.”

Food is often used to show God’s providential nature, and as a metaphor for the grace and mercy of God.  And in the banquets of our lives, it is God who does the catering.

Those of you who are in the restaurant business, especially those of you involved in catering, know what it takes to host a successful banquet and provide food for a large gathering of people.  It takes planning, attention to details, and a good knowledge of the needs of the people who will be served.  And those of you who have attended such a gathering know whether or not the caterers succeeded.  

And do you know what makes or breaks such an event?  Is it the type of food, or how much food there is, or how hot or cold it is?  No, none of these.  (Well, OK, to be honest, I’ve never known catered food to be served too hot, and cold food CAN be a real turn-off.)  

But, the number one element that measures the success or failure of these events is – LOVE.  Think about the successful restaurants that you know of.  The owners love to serve those who dine there; the staff reflects the love that the management shows to them and to their customers.  Servers smile and laugh; they listen and try to help; they care.  If there is a problem, management is willing to apologize and tries to make amends BECAUSE it cares.

But if there is no love – if all that the management focuses on is the bottom line, what’s in it for them – if they are more worried about the details of the business than the happiness of those they serve, then the business usually doesn’t last long.  Even successful restaurants, if they change hands, can and will fail, if the new management fails to serve their patrons with love.

And love forgives many mistakes.  If you have a bad dining experience, but feel that those who serve you really care for you and show that to you in how they serve you – you are far more likely to return and give them a second chance.  A measure of their success in showing that love is whether or not they remain in business even after making mistakes.

In a sense, the Catholic Church is the ultimate successful catering business.  It has survived really bad reviews and has remained in business for over 2000 years.  Why?  Because the Church reflects God’s love for us.  Because the owner and ultimate manager is God himself.  Because at the Banquet of the Lord the most exquisite of all foods is served – the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Christ – the Eucharist.

You all know that research studies have shown that, despite how often we hear about how the Eucharist is the “source and summit” of our faith, most Christians and even many Catholics do not believe or do not understand what that means.  I know.  I’ve been there.  I think part of it has to do with our expectation that we should experience something – oh, I don’t know, something “DIFFERENT?” – when we receive Jesus.

There are those who “get it”.  I see it in their eyes when they come forward for Communion; in the reverence they show it as they receive it; and especially in those who attend Eucharistic Adoration on Wednesdays here at St. Paul and in other churches as well.

You may know that the 10th National Eucharistic Congress just completed in Indianapolis last week, with almost 60,000 attendees from all over the United States.  It was the first National celebration of the Eucharist in 83 years. (The last National Congress was held in the twin cities of Minneapolis / St. Paul in 1941.) Although there have been several International Eucharistic Congresses in various locations around the world, including the 41st International Congress which was held in Philadelphia in 1976, National Congresses are particularly oriented toward the Church in the Americas. The next one National Congress is already be planned for in 2033, the 2,000th anniversary of the Crucifixion.  And when it comes to the Eucharist, those in attendance “get it”.

Remember, the most important meal that you will receive today will be served to you in just a few minutes.  It is the Eucharist, the Body and Blood of Christ, and NO food has ever been served with the love that God the Father, through His Son Jesus, has shown to us gathered here today.  And whether or not the “entertainment” portion of this banquet is good or bad; whether there are problems with the service you receive, you KNOW that the meal itself has been provided to you out of God’s infinite love for you, for it is Christ, Himself. 

(And, I can promise you that the Eucharist will not be too hot or cold.)

And so, when you come forward to the table of the Lord, even if it only for a blessing, remember – this meal was prepared for you with love.  Most importantly, remember that the Eucharist IS LOVE – God’s Love – and with God’s love there is always enough, with plenty left over.

Sunday, March 10, 2024

Open Our Eyes

Open Our Eyes
March 10, 2024    4th Sunday Lent - 2nd Scrutiny
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi 
       

Close your eyes.  Keep them closed.

Have you ever wondered about what it might be like to be born blind? Listen closely.  What do you hear?  Can you picture in your mind what is going on around you?  If this were the 9:30 crying babies Mass you might have imagined that you are in a nursery with of dozens of babies surrounding you.

(Keep your eyes closed.)  Even if you cannot focus on anything and are considered legally blind, you might still be able to discern light and dark, shapes and movement.  A priest friend of mine has been losing more and more of his eyesight for the last several years told me recently that he can no longer recognize anyone a few feet away from him, but knows who and what things are because of the sound of their voice or the position or movement of objects in front of him.

Now, imagine that you are the blind man alongside the road in today’s Gospel.  You hear the noise of the crowd, but you probably have no idea of what is going on or who is there – at first.  Then you hear, probably faintly at first, a name.

Jesus.  Jesus.  Jesus is coming.

Even those who are losing or have lost their eyesight most likely can still imagine what things might look like.  But what if you had never seen ANYTHING ever before?  How can someone recognize something that’s “beyond our senses” without the help of someone who can help us understand what we cannot see?  How do you describe “blue” to someone who has never seen color?  Or “clouds” to someone who cannot see the shadows cast by a blocked sun?

And so, I wonder what the man born blind thought when his eyes were opened by Jesus for the first time?  What are the images that are coming to YOUR mind right now?

You can open your eyes now.  All four Gospels have a story of Jesus healing the blind.  Luke’s version has the blind man, upon hearing that it is Jesus coming up the road, crying out to him, “Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me.”  Matthew’s version has two blind men calling out to him; Mark’s version even gives the man a name:  Bartimaeus, the son of Timaeus.

But John’s version begins with a very important point – the man in this story was blind from birth. For Jews, blindness was more than just a physical ailment.  They believed that physical or other infirmities were linked to sin and if you suffered from blindness or other affliction it must be because you or your parents had sinned. Since it would be pretty difficult for him to have done something BEFORE he was born, it would seem obvious that the man’s PARENTS must have done something particularly wicked. It would be natural for his disciples to ask, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?

I wonder, what did the man born blind think?  Did he accuse his parents of doing something evil that caused him to be born blind? Or was it his grandparents?  Did he think there was something “wrong” with him spiritually, since he must have been rejected by God because he was born blind?  Whose fault was it, anyway?

That is why today’s Gospel, the 2nd Scrutiny is especially significant to those candidates and elect seeking entry into the Church this Easter, to those returning from the Men’s ACTS retreat this weekend – to anyone who questions “why do bad things happen to good people?”

Physically, we are all born blind.  It takes time for our vision to develop.  At first, everything is blurry, like a camera that’s out of focus.  It takes about a week before a baby begins to learn how to see, and then it’s only objects within a foot or so of its face – which just so happens to be about the distance between a loving mother and her nursing child.  It takes about 6 months before a child can see with clarity at a distance.

Understanding what they see, however, takes a lifetime.  It is said that we are born with only two innate fears – the fear of falling and the fear of loud noises.  The rest are learned responses.  (By the way, it’s not until they’re about 2 years old before children begin to do dangerous things without encouragement, especially when they’re told not to.)

Just as we are born physically blind, we are also born spiritually blind. And just as we are born with an innate sense of fear for falling and loud noises, we are born with an innate spiritual longing for God.  But like learning to see with our eyes, it takes time for us to learn how to see with our hearts.  

It can be challenging to overcome our spiritual blindness, and not just because our parents were evil or we are evil, but because there are many outside forces at work to keep us from God.  God wants us to see, to be able to draw close to Him.  And so in today’s Gospel, Jesus teaches us to see spiritually with our hearts through the physical healing of a man born blind.  

Jesus answered, "Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him."

Jesus begins simple enough – he points out to his disciples that the evils that we experience in life are not because WE are evil, but often it is in how we deal with the evils we encounter that we can make the works of God visible to others.  Physical blindness is temporary and limited to the short time we are on Earth; but we must overcome our spiritual blindness if we are to be able to “see” the Glory of God for eternity.  We also see that re-enforced in the Acts of the Apostles, when St. Paul is commissioned by Jesus to remove the spiritual blindness of others by telling him:

I shall deliver you from this people and from the Gentiles to whom I send you, to open their eyes that they may turn from darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God, so that they may obtain forgiveness of sins and an inheritance among those who have been consecrated by faith in me.’  (Acts 26:17)

So Jesus begins with “healing” the physical blindness of the man born blind.  Note that the man doesn’t ask to be healed.  Why? Maybe it was because he didn’t think he was worthy to be healed; after all, he was born blind and like most Jews he probably believed that he didn’t deserve to be healed.  Like many of us today.

But he must have had some hope – some spiritual desire – in his heart since he followed Jesus’ directions and allowed mud made from spit to be put upon his eyes, and then allowed himself to be led – remember, as yet he still couldn’t see – to the Pool of Siloam to wash.  He had some faith, without even fully understanding what he believed.  He washes at the Pool of Siloam, and the Church sees that washing as symbolic of the waters of Baptism and the beginning of his faith journey, just as our baptism is a beginning step in ours.  And he experiences God’s mercy through both a physical AND a spiritual healing.

Now, he didn’t know who Jesus was, at first.   He testifies before the Pharisees as to what he experienced, and then he questions them about how this man Jesus could do what he did for him if Jesus was a sinner, but the Pharisees cannot answer him.  They reject his testimony and throw him out of the synagogue.  But the eyes of his heart have been opened and so, when Jesus seeks him out, he is ready to see Jesus for who he is, the Son of God.

One final thought.  In both this Gospel and last Sunday’s about the woman at the well, after Jesus reveals his divinity through word and action, the eyes of their hearts are opened and the people come to believe in him.  The Pharisees however, whose physical eyes are open, refuse to see the wonders of God at work around them.  And so we must ask ourselves – do we close our eyes to God at work in our lives?  Are we blind to God and the wonders of His mercy?  Do we WANT to see?

And so, let us pray:  Open the eyes of our hearts, Lord – we want to see You.

Easter is Near

Easter is Near
March 10, 2024    4th Sunday in Lent - B
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi


If I said, “John 3:16”, most of you would probably know to what I was referring. Even those who are not particularly religious might know. It may be the best known of all quotes from the Gospels, if not the entire Bible.  Up until a few years ago, you’d see it everywhere – on religious signs, on bumper stickers and even etched in the grease paint used to reduce glare under football players’ eyes.

John 3:16.  “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.”

Today we celebrate the 4th Sunday of Lent, referred to as Laetáre Sunday – a time to “rejoice”.  Laetáre Sunday, like its counterpart Gaudeté Sunday – “joyful” – during Advent, marks the half-way point in our penitential seasons and the rose-colored vestments that clergy wear are signs of joyous anticipation of the celebration coming in a couple of weeks.   (Remember: Everyone knows / Clergy wear Rose / for only girls are pretty in Pink.)

Which brings us back to John 3:16.  “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son…”  In a sense, Jesus is a double gift.  First, his life is a gift in showing us how to prepare ourselves for eternal life.  Second, his death is a gift in redeeming us from ourselves – our sins. As St. Paul said to the Ephesians, we accept this gift of God’s grace to us through our Faith and belief in Jesus.

And although John 3:16 is a sign of God’s great gift to us of His son Jesus, I think we tend to skip over what Jesus says both before and after his famous quote.  First he reveals to Nicodemus that he must be “lifted up” as the seraph serpent was, alluding to the necessity of his upcoming death on a cross, and he follows it with the sad statement that there will be people who will refuse to believe in him and his message and so condemn themselves to eternal darkness.
It is sad to say, but sometimes we can find darkness - comforting.  I don’t mean the physical darkness that we need in order to sleep, but the spiritual darkness that blocks the desire to reach out for God.  

We can get caught up in the glitz and glamour of the material world, but when that happens, the brightness of those lights fail to illuminate the soul.  There remains a spiritual darkness that leads us away from God.

Nowhere did I find that expressed more clearly than when I looked up the quote by Alfred Lord Tennyson: “ 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”  The sheer number of people who have taken exception to this quote, either because they never overcame the pain of the loss of a loved one through break-up or death, or because they were afraid of ever experiencing that pain, points to Jesus’ sad comment that “people preferred darkness to light”.

And yet, there is hope for all of us.  There is joy in the world today.  Even in a world of neon lights (or I guess that would be LED-colored ones today), true light and joy can still be found, if we would just open ourselves to the healing love that comes from living in the light of Jesus.

One final thought.  Mental health professionals are quick to point out that the #1 illness we face today is loneliness and depression.  Yet older adults – those who have experienced the joys and losses of life – are far less likely to feel depressed, are more likely to remember the joy they experienced in life, and more likely to live with hope for heaven.  And while having a strong faith life is no guarantee that you won’t experience loss or loneliness, there is a guarantee that God will be there for you and with you.  The light of Easter always follows the darkness of Good Friday.

So, as St. Paul said to the Philippians: “Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say it again: rejoice! … The Lord is near.” (Phil 4:4-5)   Remember, Easter is just around the corner.

Sunday, February 25, 2024

The Transfiguration: A Sign of Hope

The Transfiguration: A Sign of Hope
February 25, 2024    2nd Sunday in Lent - B
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi


I think I’ve shared with you that whenever I hear one of the passages of the Transfiguration, I have an immediate image of standing on Sunset Peak back in Idaho on a cool fall day.  On a clear day, you can see for hundreds of miles from its summit, including into Canada to the north and to Montana and Washington State to the east and west.  It’s a truly breath-taking view, but more on that in a minute.

The Transfiguration story is in all three of the Synoptic Gospels – Matthew, Mark and Luke – and we hear one or another of the versions at least 3 times a year, including this second Sunday of Lent and on the Feast of the Transfiguration in August.

Today’s version is fairly brief compared to the other two, but all three contain the basics – Jesus, with Peter, James and John climb a high mountain; the three disciples witness as Jesus changes in appearance before them and has an encounter with Moses and Elijah; they hear God the Father speak; and then it’s over and down the mountain they come.  (Mark includes the interesting aside that they were scared silly.) In all three Gospels the event occurs about a week after Jesus first tells his disciples that he will go to Jerusalem to die.

Often we think this passage is about how we need to transfigure ourselves. Especially during Lent, we work on efforts to become a better person, and so we use the three pillars of Lent – prayer, fasting and almsgiving – to try and improve ourselves. Through our efforts we hope to become more Christ-like.

But that’s really not what the Transfiguration is about.  It’s not about US being transfigured; it’s about witnessing something that gives us hope in the majesty of God.

I want to focus on 3 points of the story:

1.    The four CLIMBED to the top of the mountain.  Jesus might have led them, but they all had to make a considerable effort to get to the top. No ski lifts or gondola rides.  The disciples didn’t know what they were going to encounter once they reached the top, but they knew that Jesus was with them and they trusted that it was worth the effort.

2.    When they reached the summit, they WITNESSED something so extraordinary that it left them in awe.  Jesus changed before them.  Or, more accurately, was TRANSFIGURED.  Jesus was still Jesus, but in that intimate encounter at the top, Peter, James and John experienced an aspect of Jesus that they hadn’t really experienced before, despite all of the miraculous signs he performed – an overwhelming sense of his divinity.

3.    Once the moment had passed, they still had to come down the mountain and RETURN to their day-to-day lives.  They themselves didn’t change and they didn’t know what they were going to face once they returned.  They weren’t even to share the experience with others until the right time - after the Resurrection.

Climb.  Witness.  Return.

Let’s go back to my mountaintop in Idaho for a minute. Sunset Peak is one of the highest mountains in the area, and it is home for radio repeater towers for all sorts of communications.  As such, there is sort of a road that leads up to the top.  You don’t need a 4-wheel drive to get there, but you won’t be racing up it in your family Chevy, either.  If by chance you should meet a car coming from the other direction, well, better be ready to back up a long way.  The point is, it takes a fair amount of time to reach the summit, even in a vehicle, and it takes concentration and a desire to get to the top.  

The same is true of our spiritual journey in life.  Living our faith is often like climbing a steep mountain without really knowing what to expect at the end.  But the story of the Transfiguration reminds us that the higher we climb, the more the view is revealed to us.  And so we climb.

Once on top, the view is spectacular.  As I said, on a clear day you can see for hundreds of miles in all directions.  This particular fall morning was no exception.  It was a beautiful day, the cold air crystal clear in the early morning sun.  Standing on top like that helps you feel close to God, and the view is majestic.  In the movie “The Bucket List”, Morgan Freeman has as his #1 goal in life is to “Witness Something Truly Majestic”.  In his case, it was the Himalayas. Mine is Sunset Peak.

In our spiritual journey we are often called not to do anything, but to be a witness to something truly majestic – the presence of Christ alive and active in the world today.  And once we do, we are then called to share that witness when the time is right. Like my sharing my mountaintop experience with you today. Like my sharing my faith with you every Sunday.

Finally, there’s the journey down the mountain. As spectacular as the view was, I had to return to normal life.  This particular day the peak was above the fog bank that encircled the valleys below – you could not see anything at the bottom.  Mountain peaks poked out of the clouds like little islands in the middle of a frothy, foamy sea, and the road down led through it.  And so I had to focus on the road ahead as I came down, making sure that I didn’t lose my way.

Despite the closeness we feel to God at times when we are at Mass or in Adoration or even in our rooms in prayer, we still have to re-enter the secular world with all of its distractions and obstacles and temptations. Even after witnessing the Transfiguration, the disciples still returned to arguing about who was the greatest and worrying about their day-to-day journey.  We, too, often fall back into our daily routines, forgetting those moments where we have witnessed the majestic presence of Christ in our lives.

Still, we should crave those AHA! moments where we can encounter Christ, even if they require extra effort on our parts to experience them.  That is why we resort to fasting and almsgiving and additional prayer during Lent – to prepare ourselves for that very special encounter, the witness of the Resurrection of Christ at Easter.

One final thought.  If you would really like to experience a Transfiguration moment – one where you can see the Divinity of Christ at work - I urge you to consider attending an ACTS retreat.  The word “retreat” is sort of misleading, as ACTS is really more of an encounter with the living Christ present in the hearts and spirits of all who put on the retreat AND in those who attend it.  During your time there you will witness how God works in the lives of others and it may open your heart to His presence within you.  It is a truly transforming event.  Does it require you to “climb”? Certainly!  You have to be willing to take the time to attend.  If you think you are too busy and cannot take the time, then you may be the one who needs it the most.

Witnessing Jesus’ Divinity in the Transfiguration was a truly awesome experience for Peter, James and John.  But its real value was in the hope it inspired in the disciples after Christ’s Resurrection. May your encounters with the Divinity of Christ help you carry your crosses with the hope – The Promise – of your own Transfiguration in Heaven.