A Litany For Our Nation

A Litany For Our Nation - the rest of the story...

I came across this prayer the other day as I was mucking out my garage. Thirty minutes after I found and read it, I heard the report of the shooting in Louisiana where three more police officers were gunned down.  Now, more than ever, we need to pray for our country.

I don't know where I originally got this, but a search of the Internet provided the following:

"Below is an adaptation of the litany used at the Cathedral Church of St. Peter and St. Paul (National Cathedral) in Washington, D.C. at the celebration of Independence Day on Sunday, July 2, 1995. The litany itself is based on the Common Book of Prayer's Thanksgiving for the Nation and Prayer for Sound Government."

The prayer card itself is of my own design.  Please consider praying the litany daily for at least the next 9 days. I've created the prayer "card" below in case you would like to print it out for any group that you belong to.

A LITANY FOR THE NATION

Almighty God, giver of all good things:  We thank You for the natural majesty and beauty of this land.  They restore us, though we often destroy them.
Heal us.

We thank You for the great resources of this nation.  They make us rich, though we often exploit them.
Forgive us.

We thank You for the men and women who have made this country strong.  They are models for us, though we often fall short of them.
Inspire us.

We thank You for the torch of liberty which has been lit in this land.  It has drawn people from every nation, though we have often hidden from its light.
Enlighten us.

We thank You for the men and women who serve us as first responders – police officers, fire fighters and emergency response personnel – and for the service personnel in the various branches of our military.  They offer their lives for our protection, though we are often ungrateful and disrespectful.
Protect us.

We thank You for the faith we have inherited in all its rich variety.  It sustains our life, though we have been faithless again and again.
Renew us.

O Lord our Governor, bless the leaders of our land, that we may be a people at peace among ourselves and a blessing to other nations of the earth.
Lord, keep this nation under Your care.

Teach our people to rely on Your strength and to accept their responsibilities to their fellow citizens, that they may elect trustworthy leaders and make wise decisions for the well-being of our society; that we may serve You faithfully in our generation and honor Your Holy Name.   For Yours is the kingdom, O Lord.
And You are exalted as head above all.

Help us, O Lord, to finish the good work here begun.  Strengthen our efforts to blot out ignorance and prejudice, and to abolish poverty and crime.  And hasten the day when all our people, with many voices in one united chorus, will glorify Your Holy Name.
Amen.

Who's My Neighbor?

Who's My Neighbor?
Homily for July 10, 2016    Fifteenth Sunday of Ordinary - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi

If someone asked you, “Who’s your neighbor?” what’s the first thing that comes to your mind?  (Besides someone being mugged and left for dead?)  Is it the person who lives next door to you or on the same street?  How about your co-workers?  Or, for those of you who have children, how about the parents of a child that shares a class with yours?

Or, how about the person that share’s your faith? Look around – go ahead – would you consider the person who is sitting close to you to be your neighbor?

I think you get the idea.  Our word “neighbor” comes from the Old English word “nēah-gebūr”  - nēah, or near, and gebūr, or dweller, and so we might consider those who live or work or close to us as neighbors.  We might also consider people that we associate with, or those that we at least share a common interest with, as neighbors.  And that was exactly the perspective of Jews at the time of Jesus.  Neighbors were those closest to them.

In a sense, I come to you today as your new neighbor.  My name is Bob Bonomi and I will be serving you as one of your deacons.  I’m originally from northern Idaho, and growing up I was typical of many cradle Catholics – I’d go to church for Christmas and Easter sometimes but I wandered away from my faith – so those of you whose children have wandered from the Church, there is still hope for them.  Remember, God works miracles every day.  I didn’t come back to the Church in earnest until about 1990, after a particular difficult period in my life.

I moved to Texas the first time in the summer of 1980 as an engineer and computer specialist – in the middle of the 100-year heat wave – and I discovered that Texans don’t outright lie, they just don’t tell all of the truth.  When I interviewed for the job that February I was told that the “mean temperature of Dallas was 75 degrees”.  Yep – 75 is half-way between 125 (which it was in Wichita Falls when I came through on the 4th of July weekend), and  25 (which it was during the ice storm that rolled through later that fall.)  But nobody told me that there were only three seasons in Texas: almost hot, hotter than Hell, and don’t worry, it will be hot again soon. 

I will have been married to my wife, Rene’, for 35 years this December, and we live in Plano.  We have two grown children, and two small dogs.  I was ordained on Groundhog’s Day, 3½ years ago, and prior to coming here I served as a deacon at St. Francis of Assisi in Frisco.  I currently work in the business office of St. Patrick’s just down the road from here and have been there for almost 9 years.  Prior to that I was a computer specialist and have had my own computer consulting company now for over 25 years.  I know some of you from my old days with the Knights of Columbus at Prince of Peace, and I’ve already met several of you during the last couple of weeks.  I’m looking forward to being a good neighbor.

Which brings us to today’s Gospel.  The scholar answers his own question to Jesus about what it takes to obtain eternal life with the two greatest commandments which comes from the Torah, the first five books of the Old Testament, the foundation for Jewish law.  The first, “Love God” comes from Deuteronomy, chapter 6, beginning with verse 4 and is part of the Shema, or the main Jewish prayer which they are to recite three times a day:

“Hear, O Israel, the Lord is our God, The Lord is One. / Blessed is the name of His glorious kingdom / Forever and ever. / And you shall love the Lord your God, / With all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your possessions."

The second, “Love your neighbor”, comes from the book of Leviticus, chapter 19, verse 18:

“Take no revenge and cherish no grudge against your own people.  You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

Now, the scholar could have stopped there, but he wanted to put Jesus on the spot by challenging him about who should be considered a neighbor.  See, In Jesus’ time it was the Jewish custom to live a life of what might be considered “national isolationism” – after all, Jews were the “chosen people” of God and deserved special treatment or consideration, while anyone who wasn’t a Jew was considered an inferior.  Even though there were many laws specifically about caring for all those who were marginalized, including not just the poor, widows and orphans, but aliens, laborers, the deaf and blind, even lepers and sinners, those outsiders were obviously not in God’s favor and so were treated as inferiors.

It was one of the reasons why the Jewish leadership distrusted Jesus and had such a problem with him – his “signs”, his miracles, aided those who were outsiders, not the elite or even the “chosen”.

There were two primary reasons for their distrust. The first had to do with pride.  Jewish leadership didn’t believe that the marginalized deserved to be considered worthy of the earthly gifts that God should give to those who “earned” them by being a “good” Jew.  They allowed their ego, their arrogance, their pride, to color their thinking and their behavior toward others.  Jesus’ actions were not consistent with living “the good life” as they saw it.

But the second reason was far more insidious – fear.  They were afraid that the status quo of their lives, the comfort of their own existence and the known way of their lives would be threatened and they would lose the power and control they exercised over others.  Jesus treated outsiders not only as equals, but often in a preferential manner.  With his question, the scholar wanted to show others just what kind of threat Jesus posed to all Jews.

In answering the scholar’s second question about “who is my neighbor?”, Jesus changed the focus from a “who” – who is a neighbor to me – to a “what” – what makes me a neighbor to others.  His parable struck right at the heart of their fear of losing the status quo. 
In the parable, why did the Levite or the priest fail to help the injured man?  Scripture scholars suggest several possible reasons:

• Perhaps they are on their way to perform religious services and if the victim was dead and they touched him, they would become “unclean” and would not be able to perform their duties.
• Perhaps they are overwhelmed at the prospect of transporting an injured man through the mountains and finding assistance for him in the next town
• Perhaps they are afraid, fearing that the man has been placed there to lure them into an ambush.
• Perhaps they are disgusted by the gore and prefer not to dirty their hands and clothes.

But aren’t these our fears, too?

In any case, the Good Samaritan doesn’t let any of these things interfere with his helping someone who was in grave need.  He was obviously a businessman who traveled that stretch of road often and had business to attend to, yet he still took time and his resources to help without measuring the cost.  He did what he could do for the injured person, and then went back about his business.  But he did not forget about the injured person, for he said that if more was needed, he’d give it.

So, who is our neighbor today?  Or, rather, who is it that we are called to be a neighbor to?  We are over half-way through Pope Francis’ Year of Mercy, and when I see people who are in need of God’s mercy, I wonder if we’re getting the message that Jesus is telling us in the Gospel today.  That WE are our brother’s keeper.  That WE are the source of God’s Mercy to others.  That WE are called to be a neighbor to one and all.

Who is the neighbor that we see laying on the side of the road today?
Are we afraid to help them?

Hasta La Vista!

Hasta La Vista!
Homily for June 26, 2016    13th Sunday of Ordinary - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi   

At first glance, it might appear that today’s first reading and the Gospel passage from St. Luke contradict each other.  After all, when Elisha asks Elijah if he could kiss his family goodbye, Elijah tells him to go ahead and “go back” to them.  Yet Jesus, when asked what seems to be a similar question, admonishes the person with what seems to be a harsh judgment about not be fit for the kingdom of God. What gives?

Let’s start with our first reading.  It begins with God telling Elijah on Mount Horeb to anoint Elisha as his successor as prophet to the Israelites. If we go back and look at the previous chapters in first Kings, we read about Elijah’s contest with the 400 prophets of Baal, and how, after winning, he had them executed.  Because of that Queen Jezebel wanted him dead, so he fled to Mount Horeb in fear of his life.

But God had other plans for him.  God revealed Himself to Elijah on the mountain – not in a mighty wind, or an earthquake, or in fire, but in a whispering, soft sound. He ordered Elijah to go back to continue his mission, and gave him three things to do, one of which was to anoint his successor, Elisha, which is where we pick up today.

Now, Elisha appears to be a fairly well-to-do person, as he has 12 yoke of oxen at his disposal for plowing, and most scripture scholars agree that that would be considerable for the times. To follow Elijah is going to call for a significant sacrifice on Elisha’s part.

And yet, having been called by God to replace Elijah, Elisha doesn’t really hesitate when Elijah places his mantle over his shoulders.  In requesting to kiss his parents goodbye, Elisha honors them in accord with the 4th Commandment, but he’s truly saying goodbye – by burning his farming equipment and feeding the oxen to his people he is severing all his ties and there will be no going back.

Which brings us to today’s Gospel.  At this point in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus is beginning His final journey to Jerusalem and His Passion.  There is a sense of immediacy – of urgency – in his journey now.  His admonitions reflect that sense of urgency.   Notice that in all of his admonitions, Jesus doesn’t tell any of his potential disciples to NOT do what they’ve asked, but he’s pointing out that if they truly want to follow Him, they must be aware of the consequences.  He needs committed followers, and He knows that when the time comes for His Passion, almost everyone who says they will follow him will abandon him.  He’s telling them – AND US – that the price of following Jesus is our total commitment to Him.

It is ironic that these readings are for this weekend – the last one I will be celebrating with you as your deacon here at St. Francis.  I think God has a sense of humor, since these readings were set long before I found out I was leaving. But while it is true that I will have new priorities in my life as a deacon, it doesn’t mean that the gift that each one of you has been to me will ever be forgotten.

As I look back over the years of the journey which led me first to St. Francis and now to St. Paul’s in Richardson, I can understand something about the beauty, the joy, of following God’s Will instead of my own. 

I’ve been here 3 ½ years – how quickly they’ve passed.  That’s roughly the same amount of time that Jesus served in His ministry.  I’ve been blessed to have St. Francis as my first assignment as a deacon.  I’ve been blessed with serving with Fr. Larry and all of the other priests and deacons here, and I’ve been blessed with serving with some of the best altar servers I’ve ever seen anywhere. (Don’t let that go to your heads, guys.) And best of all, I’ve been blessed to have developed friendships with so many of you.  You’re like family to me – you ARE family.

When other deacons from the class before mine were reassigned last year, many of them said they felt like they were losing their friends.  I told them that you really never lose true friends, but that they were merely expanding the boundaries of their faith “family”.  It reminds me of a passage from 1st Chronicles, chapter 4, verses 9 and10 – better known to many of you as “The Prayer of Jabez”, from the book by Bruce Wilkinson.  It goes like this:

“Jabez was the most distinguished of his brothers. His mother had named him Jabez, saying, “I bore him with pain.” Jabez prayed to the God of Israel: “Oh, that you may truly bless me and extend my boundaries!  May your hand be with me and make me free of misfortune, without pain!” And God granted his prayer.’

I’ve always wanted to serve others even before I became a deacon, and I’ve had the joy of serving in many different ministries of my own choosing.  I knew that once I was ordained, however, that it would be God guiding my choices and that He would steer me toward wherever He wanted me to serve.  Now, I see he’s merely expanding my boundaries again.

So, my final words to you are these: have faith in God’s call, and do not be afraid to answer it, whatever it may be.  St. Francis has many, many wonderful opportunities to serve and I’ve been blessed to have been part of several different ministries here, like the St. Vincent de Paul Society, the Knights of Columbus, and the 8th grade Confirmation class.  But you don’t have to be a deacon to be part of these wonderful ministries. Pick one and get involved, and you too will be blessed.  Don’t be afraid.

Like a first love, St. Francis – YOU – will always have a special place in my heart.  But love for God HAS to be greater than personal wants, and that means I go where I am called.  And my trust in God is great.  I have been amazed by the actions of God in my life.  Maybe I shouldn’t be – after all, He IS God and I’m just a deacon – but His love for me and His presence with me have been amazing, even in the trials and changes that have periodically arisen in my life – just as He is present in the trials and changes you face, too.

And so, to paraphrase the classic rock song “Turn, Turn, Turn” by the Byrds (actually, the song comes from Ecclesiastes):

To everything, turn, turn, turn.

There is a season, turn, turn, turn.

And a time to every purpose under heaven.

“A time to laugh, and a time to cry;

a time to say hello, and a time to say goodbye. “

Yet, it’s really not goodbye, for goodbye and farewell have a sense of finality about them.  I prefer to say, “Hasta la vista".  May God bless you all.

The Gift of the Eucharist

The Gift of the Eucharist
Homily for May 29, 2016  
Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi) – C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi

    Try to imagine what it must have been like to be an Apostle the day that Jesus fed the 5,000.  I mean, things had been going so well for you.  According to Luke, you had just returned yesterday from your successful mission trip of preaching and healing, and you’re probably looking forward to a well-earned rest – a day off. (Maybe like what some of us are looking forward to tomorrow?)
    But wait! - here come the people. Jesus takes over, speaking to the crowds and doing the healing.  So, what are you going to do?  Provide crowd control, maybe?  Hey! You’ve just returned from doing missionary work – maybe you can help heal some of the sick?  By the end of the day, over 5,000 men had gathered around you, not to mention the number of women and children who have tagged along, drawn by the presence of Jesus.  He has touched them all, with your help, of course.
    The end of another successful day.
    You’re ready for a little down time, maybe a glass of wine and something to eat.  You might even feel a little smug that everything went so well.  But there are still over 5,000 people out there, and most of them have been there all day.  Some have come from quite a distance, and it is a bit isolated where you’re at.  No fast-food joints nearby.  And you do have compassion for them – after all, you are an Apostle.  It’s time to send everyone home so they can take care of themselves.  You tell Jesus to send them away – they might not listen to you, but surely they’ll listen to him.
    Then Jesus says to you, “You’re not done yet – you feed them.
    With what?!
    If I was one of the Twelve, I’d be in panic-mode.  There’s nothing quite as scary as planning a party and not knowing if you’ll have enough food for those who show up.  It reminds me of all of the requests I see for food for ACTS receptions.  And the Apostles didn’t have the Internet or Sign-up Genius to beg for help.
    You don’t have that much for your own dinner – some bread and fish.  And it’s your dinner.  You and the others are willing to share, but with so many in need out there, you worry if there will there be anything left for you?  A little reluctantly, you give Jesus what you have.
    But then again, we forget that it is Jesus who feeds us.  He takes what you have, says the blessing and – voila’!  When the crowds finish eating, there’s enough left over for a BASKET of food for each of you!  More than enough.
    Isn’t that one of our greatest fears?  That what we have won’t be enough for us if we have to share what we have?
    Today we celebrate the feast of Corpus Christi, the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ.  The Body of Christ is more than the precious Eucharist which we are about to receive, for we become what we eat – we become – we are – the Body of Christ.  And today’s Gospel should remind us that no matter how little we think we have, it all comes from God and with God it is sufficient for His needs – and ours.
    But we tend to be selfish with what God has given us, don’t we?  I mean, it’s OK to share with others, as long as I keep enough for myself?  I thought about this the other day as I was driving into work.  I like to keep a gap between me and the car in front of me – those of you who’ve been rear-ended in an accident know what I mean – and another car slid into the gap and took it from me.
    Now, you might be thinking, “what’s that got to do with food?”  But if we think about it, everything we have is from God – our food, our money, our time – even our gaps.  And we are called to share everything we have with the rest of the body – our body – in Christ.  After all, it isn’t really ours, is it?
    On my way to Mass today I turned on the Catholic radio channel and picked up in the middle of an interview with an author who had just written a book on sports and faith.  He was talking about a certain baseball player who even thanked God whenever he dropped a fly ball.  His reasoning was that even in those times when something happens to us that we consider bad, we should look to God for the blessings it may contain for us.  He said that attitude allowed him to feel blessed and to experience joy even in times of adversity.
    “Taking the loaves and fish, Jesus said THE blessing over them…”  Not “A” blessing, but “the” blessing.  I wondered what kind of blessing Jesus would say.  So, I turned once again to the trusty Internet. Did you know that there are specific Jewish blessing prayers for each different kind of food?  In the case of bread, for example, Jesus would have prayed something like, “Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the Universe, Who brings forth bread from the earth.”  He would then have offered the fish, saying, “Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the universe, by Whose word all things came to be.” In fact, there are Jewish blessing prayers for just about everything we have or do.
    We too, pray before a meal, although we probably, blast through the traditional, “Bless us O Lord and these, thy gifts…” without much thought about what we’re blessing.  But do we offer a blessing before we receive or use any of the other gifts that God has given us?  Again, Jewish teaching holds that "one should not derive benefit from this world without first reciting a blessing." Making a blessing before using any gift is tantamount to "asking permission" from G-d, acknowledging that "the world, and everything in it, is G-d's (Psalms 24:1) and G-d is the true source of all the gifts of life. In the case of food, it imbues the mundane act of eating with a spiritual awareness – awareness of the true Source of our sustenance, and of the purpose of eating.”  And we need to realize that there is a spiritual dimension to every gift that we have.
    Which brings us back to our celebration today.  Not just the feast of Corpus Christi, but the heart of our weekly celebration – the Eucharist itself.  St. Paul in our second reading reminds us that in celebrating the Eucharist we proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes, and we do so with the very body and blood of Christ present in the bread and wine we consume. 
    The Catechism of the Catholic Church calls the Eucharist "the source and summit of the Christian life.” (1324)  It represents not only the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, but the very act of receiving it is “an action of thanksgiving to God. The Greek words eucharistein [139] and eulogein [140] recall the Jewish blessings that proclaim - especially during a meal - God's works: creation, redemption, and sanctification." (1328)
    In the Lord’s Prayer, which we say (or should say) every day, we ask the Lord to “give us each day, our Daily Bread.”  Daily.  Bread.  We shouldn’t be thinking that what we are asking for is just another meal.  We should be asking for the presence of Christ within us.  In the Gospel of St. John, chapter 6, verse 57 Jesus tells us, “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood/ remains in me and I in him, says the Lord.” It is that real presence that makes us holy and part of the Body of Christ.
    One final thought.  Pope Francis, in his recent apostolic exhortation on the family, The Joy of Love, said that “…the Eucharist “is not a prize for the perfect, but a powerful medicine and nourishment for the weak”.  Here we are, in our heads, worrying about having enough food or money or time to do things we enjoy.  Why don’t we worry about getting enough of Jesus?  He’s the medicine we need to face the illnesses of society.  He’s the strength we need to face the daily challenges of our life.
    Today, as you approach the altar to receive Jesus, thank Him for all you do have.  And then thank God every day, every time you use any of the gifts He’s given you.  Then you will be Eucharist to all that you meet.“

You Also Testify to Me ... (StVdP)

You Also Testify to Me ...
Reflection for St. Vincent de Paul Meeting, May 2, 2016
Dcn. Bob Bonomi

In Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus tells his disciples, “The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you.” In today’s Gospel passage Jesus continues: … “When the Advocate comes … he will testify to me. And you also testify …”

“You also testify…”  Think about that.  Whether we realize it or not, because we profess to be Christians, others will come to know Jesus through us.  Everything we do during our life testifies to our relationship with Jesus.  It is in how we handle the successes and failures of the challenges we face that we testify to others our belief or lack of belief in Jesus and the love and mercy of God acting in our own lives.

What does our own life teach others about Jesus?  As Vincentians, we minister to the physical needs of the poor as Jesus commanded us, but do we allow the Holy Spirit to minister through us to those who are not materially disadvantaged as well? In our daily conversations, do we spend more time disparaging others than praising them?  In our inevitable discussions about the events in our country and around the world, do we spend more time discussing the evils we see than the joys?  Do others see a loving, merciful God through us, or do they see only judgment and condemnation?

It can be a challenge for us to call upon the Holy Spirit to teach us how to deal with ALL of the situations we face in our daily lives, and not just in our ministry.  In every encounter that we have, we must reflect the love and mercy of Jesus has for others. If we are not sure what to say, or if the conversation is headed in what we think is the wrong direction, we should be ready to say a little prayer for guidance; a prayer from our heart, not just a lengthy formula that we have memorized.

And sometimes the simplest of prayers is the most effective:  “Jesus, I trust in you.”  If we trust in Jesus, if we let the Holy Spirit guide us, then the message that we testify to will become clear to others as well.

Jesus, I trust in you.

Who Is It?

Who Is It?
Homily for April 10, 2016    Third Sunday of Easter - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi   

“But the disciples did not realize it was Jesus.”
 
Have you noticed that in almost every post-resurrection account about the encounters between Jesus and his disciples, at first they don’t realize that it’s him?  Even in today's Gospel, as they are sitting around the fire eating breakfast with him, it says that they didn't dare ask him who he was.  They've already encountered him twice before this and still don't see that it is him, even as they realize it IS him.
 
Think about it.  In the story about the encounter on the road to Emmaus the Gospel says that the two travelers were kept from recognizing Jesus, but in all of their other encounters they just flat out don’t recognize him.  Even Mary of Magdala, when she meets Jesus outside of his tomb, didn’t know it was him until she heard his voice.
 
I thought about that the other day when I saw an old friend who I hadn’t seen in quite a while.  He’d been suffering from a lingering illness and had easily lost half of his body weight.  The illness had changed his once-robust manner into one of trembling and unsteadiness.  It wasn’t until I heard his voice that I recognized him – that I could “see” that it really was him.
 
Now, I don’t believe that Jesus looked particularly gruesome or anything like that; in fact, I’ve also had trouble recognizing old friends who have undergone dramatic changes for the better.  And I remember when I shaved my beard off for my 50th birthday.  I’ve had a beard almost my entire adult life, and I was surprised at the number of people who didn’t recognize me.  My own daughter wouldn’t even look at me because, she said, “I recognize the voice but I don’t know who it’s coming from.”  (Yeah, after a week I grew it back.)  So, maybe Jesus shaved?
 
Anyway there’s something – different – in Jesus’ appearance.  Nothing spectacular; Mary of Magdala thinks he's a gardener, and others on the street don't react as they would to the sight of someone with an angelic appearance.  But it’s the same Jesus. 
 
Why is that so important?
 
Because it reminds us that we will encounter Jesus every day of our life, and we will not recognize him if all we do is look at him with our eyes.  We have to listen for him, watch for him with the eyes of our heart.  And when we do encounter him, then we need to be ready, for like Peter, Jesus is going to turn to us and ask us:
 
“Do You Love Me?”
 
What goes through your mind when someone asks you that question? I asked my wife that question Friday and I immediately got the “eye-roll” – “Of COURSE I love you.”  (Fortunately, she was in a pretty good mood and smiled at me.)   But when you think about it, when we ask that question of someone, or if someone asks it of us, there's often an underlying sense of doubt or insecurity that triggers the question.  We're seeking reassurance that we are still - special - in the eyes of the other person.
 
“Do You Love Me?”
 
In today’s Gospel, we hear Jesus ask the question of Peter three times.  But it isn't because Jesus is seeking reassurance from Peter.  Most scripture scholars say that Jesus asked the question three times because Peter denied him three times, and they are correct.  But as is often the case with scriptures, there’s more to it than that.  And it has to do with the many meanings of the word, “Love”. 
 
St. John uses two different Greek verbs for "love" in this encounter between Jesus and Peter – "agape", or self-sacrificing love, and "philia" , or caring, brotherly love.    And I bet the conversation between the two really went something like this:

Jesus:  Simon, do you love me enough to sacrifice everything for me more than for these others here?
Peter:  Yes, Lord, I care for you - you’re like my brother.
Jesus:   Hmmm… Ok, then - feed my little lambs.
Then again:
Jesus:  Simon, do you love me enough to sacrifice everything for me?
Peter:  Yes, Lord, I care for you - like you’re my father.
Jesus:   Hmmm… Well, tend my little sheep.
Finally, Jesus changes tactics – instead of asking for the agape’, or sacrificial love, he asks Peter:  Simon, do you love me like a brother?
 
The third time Jesus asks using the word "philia" for brotherly love instead of "agape" for sacrificial love, and the change to a lesser form of love probably distressed Peter as much as the fact that Jesus questions him three times.  Peter replies that Jesus knows everything – he knows how much Peter loves him – more importantly, how much he WANTS to love him.  Peter speaks from his heart; but he has been humbled by earlier failures.  He’s afraid to say that he can sacrifice everything for Jesus, knowing what happened the last time he said it. 
 
Jesus knows and accepts this, but he also knows that there will be a time that Peter will be called upon to show his sacrificial love for Jesus.   And Peter will, ultimately dying on a cross himself.  In fact, we see him risking everything to stand up before the Sanhedrin and testify to that love in our first reading.
 
Each time Peter replies to Jesus, Jesus then gives him a command that reflects the love that will be required from him – not just brotherly love, but sacrificial love.  Peter may not be able to express it, but Jesus knows that, once the Holy Spirit descends on him and the rest, they ALL will indeed love with sacrificial love as they tend to the fledgling Church.
 
What about us?  We’ve been given the same commands: feed my lambs; tend my sheep.  And during this Year of Mercy, we are constantly reminded that we must fulfill the corporal and spiritual works of mercy, and they will require from us a sacrificial love – not just brotherly love.
 
One final note.  Earlier this week, Pope Francis released his Apostolic Exhortation, “Amoris Laetitia” or “The Joy of Love” – his response to the Synod on the Family last fall and the work leading up to it.  It recognizes the many challenges faced by people today and how we, as Church, must respond to them.  He reminds us that for those of us called to married life, our love for each other must reflect the same intensity of love that was asked of Peter by Jesus – more than a deeply personal love toward our spouse but one of true sacrificial love; a true love and call of devotion which demands of us a giving of ourselves to another totally.  And whatever vocation we are called to – marriage, single life or life as a religious or clergy - our vocation not only calls us, but it defines us.  In all cases we are called to show the agape, or sacrificial love asked of us by God. 
 
“Do you love me more than these?”
Jesus is waiting for an answer. 

May It Be Done (StVdP)

May It Be Done

Reflection for St. Vincent de Paul Meeting, April 4, 2016

Dcn. Bob Bonomi

Today is the feast of the Annunciation of the Lord  - the celebration was moved from March 25th this year because it fell on Good Friday.  Because of its importance, the feast was abrogated to the first day after Easter and it's octave, which is today - Monday, April 4th.  We read in today's Gospel from Luke, chapter 1, verses 26 to 38:

     The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary.  And coming to her, he said, “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.” But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his Kingdom there will be no end.”
     But Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?”
     And the angel said to her in reply, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.  Therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God. And behold, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren; for nothing will be impossible for God.”
     Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.”
     Then the angel departed from her.

We are reminded that when God calls on us, we may not understand why us, or how we can respond, but if we say "yes", great things can happen. Say yes to his call.  Let it be done according to God's will.

For reflection:  Recall when you felt called to do something that you didn't think you could do, but did it anyway, only to discover something wonderful happen?