Perseverance
Oct. 20, 2019 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
If there’s one word which can be used to describe the call of all three of our readings today, it might be Perseverance.
• Perseverance in prayer, as we see in today’s Gospel;
• Perseverance in action, as we see in our first reading about Israel at war; and
• Perseverance in faith, as we are encouraged to be by St. Paul.
Of what value is Perseverance? We’ve all probably heard the little ditty that was taught to school children since the mid 1800s: “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”
Why? Why not W.C. Field’s version; “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again – and then give up”? It seems that that has become the mantra for far too many people today.
St. James states it clearly: “Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.” (Ja 1:12)
We live in a world that is full of challenges, but despite what some people think, the challenges of today are no more or less severe than those faced by previous generations. War, natural and man-made disasters, and life-threatening illnesses were part of the world that faced those in Jesus’ time and the early Christians, just like we do today. What’s different?
Maybe it is because as a society, we are losing a sense of hope for a better world. And it begins with our loss of faith.
In a recent Pew report from 2018, while 80% of adults in the United States said they believed in a “god”, only 56% believed in the God of the Christian faith, while a total of 33% said they believed in some other sort of god or some higher power. About 10% stated no belief in a higher power at all.
And, as belief in God diminishes, so does hope. A recent report from the Center for Disease Control states that despair is at an all-time high, especially for young men and women in the ages between 15 and 34. Is it any wonder that our world seems to be more cynical and less loving today?
BUT, there really IS hope. God has promised to never abandon us, and Jesus is the fulfillment of that promise. The Gospels are full of hope, and with every generation God continues to call upon his saints-in-the-making to help us see the brightness of our futures, or, as the prophet Jeremiah said, “For I know well the plans I have in mind for you – plans for your welfare and not for woe, so as to give you a future of hope. When you call me, and come and pray to me, I will listen to you.” (Jer 29:11-12)
Which brings us back to today’s readings. The hope of our future lies in our perseverance as seen in the examples given to us today:
1. St. Paul calls us to “proclaim the Word of God and to be persistent in doing so, whether it is convenient or inconvenient” – in other words, whether others, or we, like it or not. We must live our faith; we must profess our faith. And we must do so with humility and charity.
2. And Jesus tells us that in order to proclaim the Good News, we too must reach out to God and “pray always without becoming weary”, for God will always listen and answer our prayers, and will give us the strength to persevere.
3. Finally, we are reminded that we cannot do it alone – it takes a Church to do so. Moses, God’s favored one, was still unable to sustain his “prayer” in the heat of the battle without the help of Aaron and Hur. If we ever think that we don’t need our “religion” because we can go “directly to God”, this should remind us that we need friends of faith. God has placed others in our lives to help us to get to heaven – and just as important has provided us to others to help them as well. We should not be afraid to turn to others for help – and to be persistent in our efforts to help others.
This is what gives meaning to life – a belief in God, the promise of heaven, and help for the journey. We need perseverance: perseverance in prayer, perseverance in actions, perseverance in faith. Praying to God leads to faith; Faith leads to Hope; Hope leads to action; action leads to God.
And it is God that gives meaning to our lives.
Sunday, October 20, 2019
Saturday, August 24, 2019
Are You Saved?
Are You Saved?
August 24, 2019 21st Sunday of Ordinary - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
Are You Saved?
How many times have we been asked this question by our non-Catholic Christian friends? If we are not strong in our faith, it is a question that can either make us scratch our heads in confusion, or leave us feeling uncomfortable because we are not convinced we know the answer. The short answer, by the way, is “Yes”, but our readings today might help us understand why that answer may not be quite as simple as our Protestant friends would like us to believe.
In the scripture passages leading up to today, Jesus has been preaching to the people about the Kingdom of God, and he has been cautioning them of their need for repentance, and what may befall them if they don’t. And, in today’s Gospel when the person in the crowd asks Jesus, “Lord, will only a few people be saved?”, he probably was really thinking, “Lord, will * I * be saved?”
Jesus responds in normal Jesus fashion with a parable. And his answer about the doors locked by the master of the house at first might seem a little strange. “I do not know where you are from.” Not: “I do not know you” but “I do not know where you are from.”
We often use that phrase as a question, especially when we met someone for the first time. “Hi, I’m Bob – where’re you from?” And it doesn’t mean that we’re necessarily asking about what part of the country they’re from – we might use it to determine what company they’re with, or even what family they belong to. It’s a question that we use to help us to get to know someone, and unfortunately we often use that question to judge people.
“Where are you from?”
We hear this same phrase used elsewhere in scripture, usually referring to Jesus himself. It’s a statement made by the Pharisees, scribes and other leaders of Jesus’s time and most often seen in John’s Gospel – for example:
• The first time that Jesus preaches in the Temple: "However, we know where this man is from; but whenever the Christ may come, no one knows where He is from." to which Jesus replies, "You both know Me and know where I am from; … I have not come of Myself, but He who sent Me is true, whom you do not know.” (John 7:27-28)
• And again later, after the incident with the woman caught in adultery; the Pharisees dismiss him as only testifying about himself. Jesus responds: "Even if I testify about Myself, My testimony is true, for I know where I came from and where I am going; but you do not know where I come from or where I am going.” (John 8:14)
• Finally, in the story of the man born blind, the Pharisees ridicule the formerly blind man with: "We know that God has spoken to Moses, but as for this man (Jesus), we do not know where He is from." (John 9:29) and he replies with “If this man were not from God, he would not be able to do anything.” (John 9:33)
So, when Jesus uses this phrase, he really wants to know, “Are you from God?”
His answer offers both hope and a warning. He begins his answer with, “Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough.”
We want to believe that everyone goes to heaven, but the Catechism of the Catholic Church states:
We cannot be united with God unless we freely choose to love him. But we cannot love God if we sin gravely against him, against our neighbor or against ourselves: … To die in mortal sin without repenting and accepting God's merciful love means remaining separated from him forever by our own free choice. This state of definitive self-exclusion from communion with God and the blessed is called "hell." (1033)
When Jesus says that the master doesn’t know where we are from, he’s not talking about any particular region of ancient Judea. He is pointing out that our actions do not always reflect what we profess. It’s a warning that we should not be complacent about our faith, or worse, presumptuous about our salvation.
But God NEVER leaves us without hope.
Both our first and second readings talk to us about what God will do for us in order that we not only are “known” by God but also to help us understand “where” we come from, and He does it through “discipline”. Too often we equate the word “discipline” only with “punishment”, and it’s really much more than that. In fact, the Greek word used here that has been translated as “discipline” and which is used most often in the Bible is Paideia (pai·dei·uh), which means to instruct, especially the instruction of children. In the culture of ancient Greece and later of the Greco-Roman world at large, it referred to the rearing and education of the ideal member of the city-state or society. While it often has consequences associated with it that seem punishment-like in their nature, the primary purpose is not judgement, but training.
And why does God train us? Three reasons.
1. As preparation for the battles we face in life as seen in Deuteronomy: “He therefore let you be afflicted with hunger, and then fed you with manna, a food unknown to you and your ancestors, so you might know that it is not by bread alone that people live, but by all that comes forth from the mouth of the LORD. ... So you must know in your heart that, even as a man disciplines his son, so the LORD, your God, disciplines you.” (Deut 8:3-5)
2. To remind us that we are part of an eternal kingdom as seen in St. Paul’s letter to the Corinthians: “…but since we are judged by [the] Lord, we are being disciplined so that we may not be condemned along with the world.” (1 Cor 11: 32)
3. And as a sign of love, as seen in the Book of Proverbs to which today’s letter to the Hebrews refers: “The discipline of the LORD, my child, do not spurn; do not disdain his reproof; For whom the LORD loves he reproves: as a father, the child he favors.” (Prov 3:11-12)
God loves us. He wants us to be saved. He wants to spend eternity with us. He knows that in the world in which we live, especially today, it will require strength of will to “…enter through the narrow gate.” And so, like athletes who “punish” themselves in their training to be the best they can be, God “trains” us, through the “discipline” or hardships that we experience in our lives.
And so, we get back to the question, “Lord, will only a few people be saved?” The answer?
NO. There will be many, many who will be saved. But Jesus wants us to understand that those who are saved may not be those who we expect. God said through Isaiah: ”I come to gather nations of every language; they shall come and see my glory.” Jesus said that “people will come from the east and the west and from the north and the south and will recline at table in the kingdom of God.”
Fr. Tymo mentioned in his homily on Friday that there’s – “room for everyone at God’s table.” And the Beatitudes tell us those who will be seated in the places of honor: the poor, the meek, the mourning, the merciful, justice-seekers, the clean of heart, the peace-makers – those who suffer persecution for the kingdom of God. And they will come from all nations, all states of life – and even from those who may not be of our faith. And God will seat them beside us – or rather, He will seat us beside them for “some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.”
So, are we Saved? YES! But are we living our lives so that God can tell that we are from Him? Have we made room in our hearts for all those who God has invited to His table? Will we be comfortable with whoever is seated beside us?
Are we ready to accept His salvation?
August 24, 2019 21st Sunday of Ordinary - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
Are You Saved?
How many times have we been asked this question by our non-Catholic Christian friends? If we are not strong in our faith, it is a question that can either make us scratch our heads in confusion, or leave us feeling uncomfortable because we are not convinced we know the answer. The short answer, by the way, is “Yes”, but our readings today might help us understand why that answer may not be quite as simple as our Protestant friends would like us to believe.
In the scripture passages leading up to today, Jesus has been preaching to the people about the Kingdom of God, and he has been cautioning them of their need for repentance, and what may befall them if they don’t. And, in today’s Gospel when the person in the crowd asks Jesus, “Lord, will only a few people be saved?”, he probably was really thinking, “Lord, will * I * be saved?”
Jesus responds in normal Jesus fashion with a parable. And his answer about the doors locked by the master of the house at first might seem a little strange. “I do not know where you are from.” Not: “I do not know you” but “I do not know where you are from.”
We often use that phrase as a question, especially when we met someone for the first time. “Hi, I’m Bob – where’re you from?” And it doesn’t mean that we’re necessarily asking about what part of the country they’re from – we might use it to determine what company they’re with, or even what family they belong to. It’s a question that we use to help us to get to know someone, and unfortunately we often use that question to judge people.
“Where are you from?”
We hear this same phrase used elsewhere in scripture, usually referring to Jesus himself. It’s a statement made by the Pharisees, scribes and other leaders of Jesus’s time and most often seen in John’s Gospel – for example:
• The first time that Jesus preaches in the Temple: "However, we know where this man is from; but whenever the Christ may come, no one knows where He is from." to which Jesus replies, "You both know Me and know where I am from; … I have not come of Myself, but He who sent Me is true, whom you do not know.” (John 7:27-28)
• And again later, after the incident with the woman caught in adultery; the Pharisees dismiss him as only testifying about himself. Jesus responds: "Even if I testify about Myself, My testimony is true, for I know where I came from and where I am going; but you do not know where I come from or where I am going.” (John 8:14)
• Finally, in the story of the man born blind, the Pharisees ridicule the formerly blind man with: "We know that God has spoken to Moses, but as for this man (Jesus), we do not know where He is from." (John 9:29) and he replies with “If this man were not from God, he would not be able to do anything.” (John 9:33)
So, when Jesus uses this phrase, he really wants to know, “Are you from God?”
His answer offers both hope and a warning. He begins his answer with, “Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough.”
We want to believe that everyone goes to heaven, but the Catechism of the Catholic Church states:
We cannot be united with God unless we freely choose to love him. But we cannot love God if we sin gravely against him, against our neighbor or against ourselves: … To die in mortal sin without repenting and accepting God's merciful love means remaining separated from him forever by our own free choice. This state of definitive self-exclusion from communion with God and the blessed is called "hell." (1033)
When Jesus says that the master doesn’t know where we are from, he’s not talking about any particular region of ancient Judea. He is pointing out that our actions do not always reflect what we profess. It’s a warning that we should not be complacent about our faith, or worse, presumptuous about our salvation.
But God NEVER leaves us without hope.
Both our first and second readings talk to us about what God will do for us in order that we not only are “known” by God but also to help us understand “where” we come from, and He does it through “discipline”. Too often we equate the word “discipline” only with “punishment”, and it’s really much more than that. In fact, the Greek word used here that has been translated as “discipline” and which is used most often in the Bible is Paideia (pai·dei·uh), which means to instruct, especially the instruction of children. In the culture of ancient Greece and later of the Greco-Roman world at large, it referred to the rearing and education of the ideal member of the city-state or society. While it often has consequences associated with it that seem punishment-like in their nature, the primary purpose is not judgement, but training.
And why does God train us? Three reasons.
1. As preparation for the battles we face in life as seen in Deuteronomy: “He therefore let you be afflicted with hunger, and then fed you with manna, a food unknown to you and your ancestors, so you might know that it is not by bread alone that people live, but by all that comes forth from the mouth of the LORD. ... So you must know in your heart that, even as a man disciplines his son, so the LORD, your God, disciplines you.” (Deut 8:3-5)
2. To remind us that we are part of an eternal kingdom as seen in St. Paul’s letter to the Corinthians: “…but since we are judged by [the] Lord, we are being disciplined so that we may not be condemned along with the world.” (1 Cor 11: 32)
3. And as a sign of love, as seen in the Book of Proverbs to which today’s letter to the Hebrews refers: “The discipline of the LORD, my child, do not spurn; do not disdain his reproof; For whom the LORD loves he reproves: as a father, the child he favors.” (Prov 3:11-12)
God loves us. He wants us to be saved. He wants to spend eternity with us. He knows that in the world in which we live, especially today, it will require strength of will to “…enter through the narrow gate.” And so, like athletes who “punish” themselves in their training to be the best they can be, God “trains” us, through the “discipline” or hardships that we experience in our lives.
And so, we get back to the question, “Lord, will only a few people be saved?” The answer?
NO. There will be many, many who will be saved. But Jesus wants us to understand that those who are saved may not be those who we expect. God said through Isaiah: ”I come to gather nations of every language; they shall come and see my glory.” Jesus said that “people will come from the east and the west and from the north and the south and will recline at table in the kingdom of God.”
Fr. Tymo mentioned in his homily on Friday that there’s – “room for everyone at God’s table.” And the Beatitudes tell us those who will be seated in the places of honor: the poor, the meek, the mourning, the merciful, justice-seekers, the clean of heart, the peace-makers – those who suffer persecution for the kingdom of God. And they will come from all nations, all states of life – and even from those who may not be of our faith. And God will seat them beside us – or rather, He will seat us beside them for “some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.”
So, are we Saved? YES! But are we living our lives so that God can tell that we are from Him? Have we made room in our hearts for all those who God has invited to His table? Will we be comfortable with whoever is seated beside us?
Are we ready to accept His salvation?
Sunday, July 14, 2019
Go And Do Likewise
Go And Do Likewise
July 14, 2019 15th Sunday of Ordinary - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
In today’s gospel, a scholar of Jewish Law asks Jesus: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” For people of faith, it is the question that we all should ask ourselves – or rather, a question to which we should already know the answer. But do we?
We see this question asked of Jesus in all three of the synoptic Gospels, so it must be important. In John’s Gospel, Jesus isn’t asked this question, although in his Last Supper discourse he commands his disciples to “love one another”.
But in the synoptic gospels, depending on who Jesus is talking with, there appears to be two different answers. In Luke 18:18, Mark 10:17 and Matthew 19:16, when Jesus is talking with someone of wealth, the answer reflects the Mosaic Law as seen in the 10 Commandments: You shall not kill or steal or commit adultery or bear false witness, and you shall honor your father and your mother.
In the responses given to scholars of the law, however, as we see in today’s passage from Luke chapter 10 and in Matthew chapter 22:35 (where Jesus is asked “which commandment in the law is the greatest?”, Jesus refers to more foundational elements of the Jewish faith as stated in The Shema, the prayer that serves as a centerpiece of the morning and evening Jewish prayer services found in Deuteronomy chapter 6 verse 5 – “You shall love the LORD, your God, with your whole heart, and with your whole being, and with your whole strength” and from the Jewish rules of conduct listed in Leviticus chapter 19: “Take no revenge and cherish no grudge against your own people. You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
Only in Luke do we find Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan. We’re all probably familiar with this story – the comparison of the Levite and the Priest to those who you would think would be most compassionate – and so I would like to focus on the last two lines from today’s Gospel: the answer by the legal scholar to Jesus’ question of who was neighbor to the robbers' victim – "The one who treated him with mercy" and Jesus’ response: "Go and do likewise."
"Treated him with Mercy." What is mercy? The definition from Merriam-Webster is as good as any: “compassion or forbearance shown especially to an offender or to one subject to one's power.”
“Subject to one’s power…” What does that mean? Often we think of someone who has a legal or institutional authority as one who wields power: police officers, judges, military personnel. Even in the corporate world, we think of executives as powerful; as children we most likely thought the same of our parents – at least until we became teenagers.
But in his parable, it is the Samaritan who has the power to show mercy. The Samaritan is portrayed as an average Joe, albeit an outsider, who was passing by on business when he came across the injured man. As a Samaritan, he probably didn’t have much “authority” or “power” in Jewish society in the legal sense, but he did have the ability to care for the victim. And the same is true for us today. When Jesus tells the scholar to “do likewise”, he is actually talking to every one of us.
Think about the definition of mercy: “compassion or forbearance shown especially to someone subject to one's power.” We have more “power” than we think. The gifts we have received from God – our time, our talents, our treasures – all are reflections of the power that has been given to us by God. We don’t have to be policemen or judges or someone in a position of authority to wield power. We only have to be aware of, and be willing to use, the power granted to us by God in order to show another mercy.
Sometimes we don’t realize that there is always someone who needs OUR mercy. For mercy is more than just forgiveness for some injury inflicted upon us. Mercy is more than just monetary help to someone in need. Mercy is our compassionate response to Jesus’ command to love one another. Which brings us back to how we inherit eternal life.
Love God. Love one another. Follow God’s commandments. Be willing to make the sacrifices necessary for others.
“For this command that I enjoin on you today is not too mysterious and remote for you… No, it is something very near to you, already in your mouths and in your hearts; you have only to carry it out."
The Law of Love is written on our hearts. The Samaritan in the parable understood this. We understand this. We have only to carry it out.
God is always there to show us His mercy for those who seek Him. Let us go and do likewise.
July 14, 2019 15th Sunday of Ordinary - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
In today’s gospel, a scholar of Jewish Law asks Jesus: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” For people of faith, it is the question that we all should ask ourselves – or rather, a question to which we should already know the answer. But do we?
We see this question asked of Jesus in all three of the synoptic Gospels, so it must be important. In John’s Gospel, Jesus isn’t asked this question, although in his Last Supper discourse he commands his disciples to “love one another”.
But in the synoptic gospels, depending on who Jesus is talking with, there appears to be two different answers. In Luke 18:18, Mark 10:17 and Matthew 19:16, when Jesus is talking with someone of wealth, the answer reflects the Mosaic Law as seen in the 10 Commandments: You shall not kill or steal or commit adultery or bear false witness, and you shall honor your father and your mother.
In the responses given to scholars of the law, however, as we see in today’s passage from Luke chapter 10 and in Matthew chapter 22:35 (where Jesus is asked “which commandment in the law is the greatest?”, Jesus refers to more foundational elements of the Jewish faith as stated in The Shema, the prayer that serves as a centerpiece of the morning and evening Jewish prayer services found in Deuteronomy chapter 6 verse 5 – “You shall love the LORD, your God, with your whole heart, and with your whole being, and with your whole strength” and from the Jewish rules of conduct listed in Leviticus chapter 19: “Take no revenge and cherish no grudge against your own people. You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
Only in Luke do we find Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan. We’re all probably familiar with this story – the comparison of the Levite and the Priest to those who you would think would be most compassionate – and so I would like to focus on the last two lines from today’s Gospel: the answer by the legal scholar to Jesus’ question of who was neighbor to the robbers' victim – "The one who treated him with mercy" and Jesus’ response: "Go and do likewise."
"Treated him with Mercy." What is mercy? The definition from Merriam-Webster is as good as any: “compassion or forbearance shown especially to an offender or to one subject to one's power.”
“Subject to one’s power…” What does that mean? Often we think of someone who has a legal or institutional authority as one who wields power: police officers, judges, military personnel. Even in the corporate world, we think of executives as powerful; as children we most likely thought the same of our parents – at least until we became teenagers.
But in his parable, it is the Samaritan who has the power to show mercy. The Samaritan is portrayed as an average Joe, albeit an outsider, who was passing by on business when he came across the injured man. As a Samaritan, he probably didn’t have much “authority” or “power” in Jewish society in the legal sense, but he did have the ability to care for the victim. And the same is true for us today. When Jesus tells the scholar to “do likewise”, he is actually talking to every one of us.
Think about the definition of mercy: “compassion or forbearance shown especially to someone subject to one's power.” We have more “power” than we think. The gifts we have received from God – our time, our talents, our treasures – all are reflections of the power that has been given to us by God. We don’t have to be policemen or judges or someone in a position of authority to wield power. We only have to be aware of, and be willing to use, the power granted to us by God in order to show another mercy.
Sometimes we don’t realize that there is always someone who needs OUR mercy. For mercy is more than just forgiveness for some injury inflicted upon us. Mercy is more than just monetary help to someone in need. Mercy is our compassionate response to Jesus’ command to love one another. Which brings us back to how we inherit eternal life.
Love God. Love one another. Follow God’s commandments. Be willing to make the sacrifices necessary for others.
“For this command that I enjoin on you today is not too mysterious and remote for you… No, it is something very near to you, already in your mouths and in your hearts; you have only to carry it out."
The Law of Love is written on our hearts. The Samaritan in the parable understood this. We understand this. We have only to carry it out.
God is always there to show us His mercy for those who seek Him. Let us go and do likewise.
Sunday, May 26, 2019
Go In Peace
Go In Peace
May 26, 2019 6th Sunday of Easter - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
Peace be with you. (And with your Spirit?)
If there has been one recurring theme to all of the readings throughout the Easter season, and especially in Jesus’ appearances after the Resurrection, it has to be the overwhelming desire of God for us to be at peace. Not an earthly peace that comes from a lack of armed conflict, but one of trust in God and faith in His Divine Love, which leads to peace within our hearts.
And in the midst of the troubles that we face in the world, in our lives – in our Church – peace, at least an Earthly peace – is elusive at best. There are so many challenges that we face in our lives that sometimes it seems impossible to be at peace.
It might seem like a coincidence that today’s readings intersect with the holiday that we celebrate this weekend – Memorial Day. Memorial Day is a day in which we remember those who gave their lives protecting us and seeking peace while serving in the military. Initially celebrated after the Civil War, it became an official federal holiday in 1971. But they do serve to remind us that the price of serving God and His people often comes with a price.
For those who have lost loved ones in any of the armed conflicts around the world during the last 100 years, Monday will have a special place in our hearts. And between the beer, brats and burgers, we will try to find some peace and joy with those we love. But it is hard to be at peace when we still carry the scars and the pains of loss, whether from the external battles of war or the unseen battles we wage within our minds and our hearts.
Yet that is just what Jesus is offering to us, just as He did to His disciples in today’s Gospel. “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.”
Today’s Gospel comes from the first part of St. John’s Last Supper Discourses that begins with Chapter 14. The chapter begins with “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me”, and comes after Jesus has washed the feet of His disciples and Judas Iscariot has left to betray him. The disciples have to have a sense of foreboding as Jesus has repeatedly warned them of the troubles that awaited him in Jerusalem – and here they are.
Now, think about the people that St. John is writing to, and why. John’s Gospel is not meant to be a historical reference book. It is thought that it was written in the 90’s, and that’s 60 years since Jesus had been crucified, died, arose and ascended. The Jewish temple has already been destroyed by the Romans, and the early Christians were being persecuted by both the Jews and the Romans. John’s community was being persecuted at the time this was written, and they probably needed reassurance, or at least an understanding, that what they were experiencing had meaning.
Is it so very different today? In our own lives, are we at peace? Or, are we at war? There seems to be no peace in our world, our country, our Church, or even in our families. Where’s this “peace” that Jesus has left with us?
“Not as the world gives do I give it to you.”
All this last week, beginning with Monday’s Gospel which is basically the same as today, we’ve been listening to Jesus’ pep talk to his disciples. Even though John will continue for three more chapters before Jesus gets to the Mount of Olives and the Garden of Gethsemane, the recurring theme of reassurance and encouragement will continue to reinforce the sense of heavenly peace versus an earthly one and could have easily ended with the two verses, 30 and 31, which immediately follow today’s Gospel reading: “I will no longer speak much with you, for the ruler of the world is coming. He has no power over me, but the world must know that I love the Father and that I do just as the Father has commanded me. Get up, let us go.”
Jesus tells us today, just like then, that there will be storms in our lives. There will be wars. There will be times when it seems like the world is crashing down on us. There will be times when we grieve the loss of those we love.
Jesus said, “I am going away and I will come back to you.” This passage, often used for funerals, reminds us that for those who trust in God, God is there for us.
At the end of Mass I, as the Deacon (or the priest if no deacon is present), will dismiss the people with:
God is Good. All the Time. All we have to do is Follow Him.
As Jesus said, “Get up, let us go.”
May 26, 2019 6th Sunday of Easter - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
Peace be with you. (And with your Spirit?)
If there has been one recurring theme to all of the readings throughout the Easter season, and especially in Jesus’ appearances after the Resurrection, it has to be the overwhelming desire of God for us to be at peace. Not an earthly peace that comes from a lack of armed conflict, but one of trust in God and faith in His Divine Love, which leads to peace within our hearts.
And in the midst of the troubles that we face in the world, in our lives – in our Church – peace, at least an Earthly peace – is elusive at best. There are so many challenges that we face in our lives that sometimes it seems impossible to be at peace.
It might seem like a coincidence that today’s readings intersect with the holiday that we celebrate this weekend – Memorial Day. Memorial Day is a day in which we remember those who gave their lives protecting us and seeking peace while serving in the military. Initially celebrated after the Civil War, it became an official federal holiday in 1971. But they do serve to remind us that the price of serving God and His people often comes with a price.
For those who have lost loved ones in any of the armed conflicts around the world during the last 100 years, Monday will have a special place in our hearts. And between the beer, brats and burgers, we will try to find some peace and joy with those we love. But it is hard to be at peace when we still carry the scars and the pains of loss, whether from the external battles of war or the unseen battles we wage within our minds and our hearts.
Yet that is just what Jesus is offering to us, just as He did to His disciples in today’s Gospel. “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.”
Today’s Gospel comes from the first part of St. John’s Last Supper Discourses that begins with Chapter 14. The chapter begins with “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me”, and comes after Jesus has washed the feet of His disciples and Judas Iscariot has left to betray him. The disciples have to have a sense of foreboding as Jesus has repeatedly warned them of the troubles that awaited him in Jerusalem – and here they are.
Now, think about the people that St. John is writing to, and why. John’s Gospel is not meant to be a historical reference book. It is thought that it was written in the 90’s, and that’s 60 years since Jesus had been crucified, died, arose and ascended. The Jewish temple has already been destroyed by the Romans, and the early Christians were being persecuted by both the Jews and the Romans. John’s community was being persecuted at the time this was written, and they probably needed reassurance, or at least an understanding, that what they were experiencing had meaning.
Is it so very different today? In our own lives, are we at peace? Or, are we at war? There seems to be no peace in our world, our country, our Church, or even in our families. Where’s this “peace” that Jesus has left with us?
“Not as the world gives do I give it to you.”
All this last week, beginning with Monday’s Gospel which is basically the same as today, we’ve been listening to Jesus’ pep talk to his disciples. Even though John will continue for three more chapters before Jesus gets to the Mount of Olives and the Garden of Gethsemane, the recurring theme of reassurance and encouragement will continue to reinforce the sense of heavenly peace versus an earthly one and could have easily ended with the two verses, 30 and 31, which immediately follow today’s Gospel reading: “I will no longer speak much with you, for the ruler of the world is coming. He has no power over me, but the world must know that I love the Father and that I do just as the Father has commanded me. Get up, let us go.”
Jesus tells us today, just like then, that there will be storms in our lives. There will be wars. There will be times when it seems like the world is crashing down on us. There will be times when we grieve the loss of those we love.
Jesus said, “I am going away and I will come back to you.” This passage, often used for funerals, reminds us that for those who trust in God, God is there for us.
At the end of Mass I, as the Deacon (or the priest if no deacon is present), will dismiss the people with:
- Go Forth, the Mass is ended.
- Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord.
- Go in Peace, glorifying the Lord by your life.
- Go in Peace.
God is Good. All the Time. All we have to do is Follow Him.
As Jesus said, “Get up, let us go.”
Sunday, April 14, 2019
Father, Forgive Us
Father, Forgive Us
April 14, 2019 Palm Sunday of the Lord's Passion - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
I want to focus on a single line from today’s Gospel: “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.”
By the end of today’s Gospel, Jesus is dead. Every year on Palm Sunday, we re-live the stories that lead up to His crucifixion as seen through the eyes of saints Matthew, Mark and Luke respectively; we will re-live it once more on Good Friday as seen through St. John’s eyes.
These different perspectives of a historical event remind us that in addition to His divinity, Jesus was fully human. He lived a human life like each of us; he faced challenges like each of us; he had friends – and enemies – like us; he felt joy and sorrow like us, he experienced rejection and betrayal and emotional and physical pain, like us. And he died, like we all will one day.
While Scriptures tell us of how the chief priests and the scribes conspired to have Jesus killed and that it was the Romans who actually performed the crucifixion, Scripture also reminds us that it was for OUR SINS that Jesus was crucified. Not just the sins of those who came before Him; not those who walked the Earth with Him, but US, today.
Too often we are somewhat complacent in our complicity in His murder. In spite of our play-acting roles in which we shout, “Crucify Him!” we really don’t think about the fact – and it is a fact – that we are complicit in His death. We are all sinners. Jesus took upon His shoulders the sins of ALL mankind – past, present, and future – and that means OUR sins today.
St. Francis of Assisi is blunt: ”And even the demons did not crucify Him, but you together with them crucified Him and still crucify Him by taking delight in vices and sins.”
So, did Jesus die just to pay for our sins? Or, as Bishop Robert Barron asks, “Does this mean God the Father is a cruel taskmaster, demanding a bloody sacrifice so that his anger might be appeased?”
Barron’s answer is, “No. Jesus’ crucifixion was the opening up of the divine heart so that we could see that NO sin of ours could finally separate us from the love of God.”
Jesus’ crucifixion was the ultimate sacrifice of love. When Jesus cries out, “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do”, He is speaking to US. We may not understand how our sins are serious enough to result in the death of any human being, let alone Jesus. But Jesus does. He took on the burden of our sins, and He died – a death He freely accepted – because He loved us more than we can ever imagine. And because of that, we have hope.
The story – our story – does not end with the Crucifixion. For with the Resurrection that we celebrate next Sunday, we see that sin – death – no longer means the end of everything. There is still more life to come, and it’s an abundant life.
St. Leo the Great said, “No one, however weak, is denied a share in the victory of the cross. No one is beyond the help of the prayer of Christ. His prayer brought benefit to the multitude that raged against him. How much more does it bring to those who turn to him in repentance?”
Remember what Jesus said to the good thief when he asked Jesus to remember him when Jesus came into his kingdom: "Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise."
There is still time for us.
Have a Holy Week.
April 14, 2019 Palm Sunday of the Lord's Passion - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
I want to focus on a single line from today’s Gospel: “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.”
By the end of today’s Gospel, Jesus is dead. Every year on Palm Sunday, we re-live the stories that lead up to His crucifixion as seen through the eyes of saints Matthew, Mark and Luke respectively; we will re-live it once more on Good Friday as seen through St. John’s eyes.
These different perspectives of a historical event remind us that in addition to His divinity, Jesus was fully human. He lived a human life like each of us; he faced challenges like each of us; he had friends – and enemies – like us; he felt joy and sorrow like us, he experienced rejection and betrayal and emotional and physical pain, like us. And he died, like we all will one day.
While Scriptures tell us of how the chief priests and the scribes conspired to have Jesus killed and that it was the Romans who actually performed the crucifixion, Scripture also reminds us that it was for OUR SINS that Jesus was crucified. Not just the sins of those who came before Him; not those who walked the Earth with Him, but US, today.
Too often we are somewhat complacent in our complicity in His murder. In spite of our play-acting roles in which we shout, “Crucify Him!” we really don’t think about the fact – and it is a fact – that we are complicit in His death. We are all sinners. Jesus took upon His shoulders the sins of ALL mankind – past, present, and future – and that means OUR sins today.
St. Francis of Assisi is blunt: ”And even the demons did not crucify Him, but you together with them crucified Him and still crucify Him by taking delight in vices and sins.”
So, did Jesus die just to pay for our sins? Or, as Bishop Robert Barron asks, “Does this mean God the Father is a cruel taskmaster, demanding a bloody sacrifice so that his anger might be appeased?”
Barron’s answer is, “No. Jesus’ crucifixion was the opening up of the divine heart so that we could see that NO sin of ours could finally separate us from the love of God.”
Jesus’ crucifixion was the ultimate sacrifice of love. When Jesus cries out, “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do”, He is speaking to US. We may not understand how our sins are serious enough to result in the death of any human being, let alone Jesus. But Jesus does. He took on the burden of our sins, and He died – a death He freely accepted – because He loved us more than we can ever imagine. And because of that, we have hope.
The story – our story – does not end with the Crucifixion. For with the Resurrection that we celebrate next Sunday, we see that sin – death – no longer means the end of everything. There is still more life to come, and it’s an abundant life.
St. Leo the Great said, “No one, however weak, is denied a share in the victory of the cross. No one is beyond the help of the prayer of Christ. His prayer brought benefit to the multitude that raged against him. How much more does it bring to those who turn to him in repentance?”
Remember what Jesus said to the good thief when he asked Jesus to remember him when Jesus came into his kingdom: "Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise."
There is still time for us.
Have a Holy Week.
Sunday, March 24, 2019
The Clock is Ticking
The Clock is Ticking
March 24, 2019 3rd Sunday in Lent - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
There’s an ominous tone in both St. Paul’s letter to the Corinthians and in St. Luke’s Gospel today: repent, or else: “(W)hoever thinks he is standing secure should take care not to fall.” “I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!” These scriptures make for great fire and brimstone preaching. Makes me want to go and stand on a street corner with a bible in one hand and a bullhorn in the other, shouting “REPENT, YE SINNERS! YOU’RE GOING TO HELL!”
But are these scriptures particularly harsh? Not really – in fact, I would say that these passages should inspire hope. Throughout his ministry, Jesus frequently talked about the urgency of turning away from sin and orienting oneself toward God. We hear it in many of his parables, like the one of the ten virgins with oil lamps – 5 are wise and 5 are foolish. We see it in his parable of the rich fool who builds bigger barns to store his harvest but dies before he can enjoy it. We see it in the story of the head of the household who is prepared before the thief can break in.
Being ready to die is a foundational theme throughout all of the Old and New Testament – God calls us to Himself; we wander from Him to follow our own pursuits; God warns of the consequences of our actions and then calls us once more to His Love. Again and again, God gives us a choice. Through our free will, we can choose to accept God’s Love, or not. And sooner or later, we will have to choose. We just don’t get an unlimited amount of time for making that choice.
The Bible is, in one sense, a collection of love stories of God for us. These stories necessarily contain warnings, reminding us that our time on Earth is limited, not because Earth IS heaven and there’s only so much time to enjoy it, but rather because it is NOT heaven and we risk missing out on what is ours by our birthright as children of God. God WANTS us to receive what has been prepared for us from the beginning of time, for as scripture says, “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.”
Today’s Gospel, though, is often misunderstood, especially the second portion, the parable of the gardener and the fig tree. It sounds as if God the Father is the owner of the orchard, God the Son is the gardener, and we are the fig tree – at first glance, it seems like a reasonable assumption. But the dialogue between the two – Father and Son, owner and gardener – makes it look like God is of two minds in conflict with each other. The owner: “cut it down”. The gardener: “give it more time.” The owner demands justice: “why should it exhaust the land?” The gardener begs for mercy: “give it another year.”
But Jesus is making a point: the owner isn’t God the Father, but rather the owner represents the earthly mentality of the people who say “Produce or else.” It's the gardener who is God, showing His mercy. He’s saying, “As long as you can hear My voice, you still have a chance.” And, if you listen to God and allow His love and mercy to work in you, you will be saved – not in your earthly existence, but in your heavenly reward for all eternity.
It is from this perspective that we can then look at the first part of today’s Gospel. The people bring news of a shocking current event to Jesus – a senseless and disgusting act of violence by Pilate which outraged them, just like our reaction to the report of 50 people murdered in the recent New Zealand Mosque shootings. The people then, like us today, struggled to understand why God would allow something like that to happen. But instead of explaining, Jesus compares it to another tragic event that the people would be familiar with in which people died, not at the hands of another person, but from a violent act of nature – the collapse of a tower in Siloam. Their reaction was probably just like our reaction to the news of those killed as a result of the Cyclone in Mozambique last week.
We want to blame someone when something bad happens, and it’s easy to blame someone when it is a senseless act of violence. We can clamor for justice in our earthly kingdoms to satisfy our personal sense of righteousness. But, an Act of Nature? An Act of God? Should we blame God?
Jesus’ reply to the people seems harsh, for he is in effect saying, “It is not important about WHY it happened as it is that it DID happen.” From God’s perspective, there will always be tragic events which may unexpectedly cut short our lives or those who are closest to us. But whether death is sudden and tragic, or at the end of a long life, we will one day have to move on to our next destination, and Jesus is more concerned about that – and we should be too. He wants us prepared, and his entire ministry up to and including his Passion – his death and resurrection – nurtures us and gives us everything we need in order to find and keep the treasure of His kingdom. God wants us with him.
Ultimately, today’s readings are readings of hope, of promise. As long as we can hear His voice, we still have the chance to repent and bear good fruit. We can still accept His Love, just as the good thief did on the cross beside Jesus. There is still time.
But, the clock is ticking.
March 24, 2019 3rd Sunday in Lent - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
There’s an ominous tone in both St. Paul’s letter to the Corinthians and in St. Luke’s Gospel today: repent, or else: “(W)hoever thinks he is standing secure should take care not to fall.” “I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!” These scriptures make for great fire and brimstone preaching. Makes me want to go and stand on a street corner with a bible in one hand and a bullhorn in the other, shouting “REPENT, YE SINNERS! YOU’RE GOING TO HELL!”
But are these scriptures particularly harsh? Not really – in fact, I would say that these passages should inspire hope. Throughout his ministry, Jesus frequently talked about the urgency of turning away from sin and orienting oneself toward God. We hear it in many of his parables, like the one of the ten virgins with oil lamps – 5 are wise and 5 are foolish. We see it in his parable of the rich fool who builds bigger barns to store his harvest but dies before he can enjoy it. We see it in the story of the head of the household who is prepared before the thief can break in.
Being ready to die is a foundational theme throughout all of the Old and New Testament – God calls us to Himself; we wander from Him to follow our own pursuits; God warns of the consequences of our actions and then calls us once more to His Love. Again and again, God gives us a choice. Through our free will, we can choose to accept God’s Love, or not. And sooner or later, we will have to choose. We just don’t get an unlimited amount of time for making that choice.
The Bible is, in one sense, a collection of love stories of God for us. These stories necessarily contain warnings, reminding us that our time on Earth is limited, not because Earth IS heaven and there’s only so much time to enjoy it, but rather because it is NOT heaven and we risk missing out on what is ours by our birthright as children of God. God WANTS us to receive what has been prepared for us from the beginning of time, for as scripture says, “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.”
Today’s Gospel, though, is often misunderstood, especially the second portion, the parable of the gardener and the fig tree. It sounds as if God the Father is the owner of the orchard, God the Son is the gardener, and we are the fig tree – at first glance, it seems like a reasonable assumption. But the dialogue between the two – Father and Son, owner and gardener – makes it look like God is of two minds in conflict with each other. The owner: “cut it down”. The gardener: “give it more time.” The owner demands justice: “why should it exhaust the land?” The gardener begs for mercy: “give it another year.”
But Jesus is making a point: the owner isn’t God the Father, but rather the owner represents the earthly mentality of the people who say “Produce or else.” It's the gardener who is God, showing His mercy. He’s saying, “As long as you can hear My voice, you still have a chance.” And, if you listen to God and allow His love and mercy to work in you, you will be saved – not in your earthly existence, but in your heavenly reward for all eternity.
It is from this perspective that we can then look at the first part of today’s Gospel. The people bring news of a shocking current event to Jesus – a senseless and disgusting act of violence by Pilate which outraged them, just like our reaction to the report of 50 people murdered in the recent New Zealand Mosque shootings. The people then, like us today, struggled to understand why God would allow something like that to happen. But instead of explaining, Jesus compares it to another tragic event that the people would be familiar with in which people died, not at the hands of another person, but from a violent act of nature – the collapse of a tower in Siloam. Their reaction was probably just like our reaction to the news of those killed as a result of the Cyclone in Mozambique last week.
We want to blame someone when something bad happens, and it’s easy to blame someone when it is a senseless act of violence. We can clamor for justice in our earthly kingdoms to satisfy our personal sense of righteousness. But, an Act of Nature? An Act of God? Should we blame God?
Jesus’ reply to the people seems harsh, for he is in effect saying, “It is not important about WHY it happened as it is that it DID happen.” From God’s perspective, there will always be tragic events which may unexpectedly cut short our lives or those who are closest to us. But whether death is sudden and tragic, or at the end of a long life, we will one day have to move on to our next destination, and Jesus is more concerned about that – and we should be too. He wants us prepared, and his entire ministry up to and including his Passion – his death and resurrection – nurtures us and gives us everything we need in order to find and keep the treasure of His kingdom. God wants us with him.
Ultimately, today’s readings are readings of hope, of promise. As long as we can hear His voice, we still have the chance to repent and bear good fruit. We can still accept His Love, just as the good thief did on the cross beside Jesus. There is still time.
But, the clock is ticking.
The Quest for Faith
The Quest for Faith
March 24, 2019 3rd Sunday in Lent - The 1st Scrutiny
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
Zork. There are some of you out there who might remember this iconic adventure game in which you explored an immense underground empire by typing in commands on a computer keyboard. This was long before joysticks, paddles and the fancy graphics of modern computer gaming systems. The original game predated personal computers by a few years and at one time was one of the most popular adventure games available.
The thing about Zork, however, was that you weren’t inundated with visual special effects and dependent upon violent action to “win” the game, but instead you had to explore the world with your mind in order to learn about the treasures it held. There were limited clues at first for the average beginner. Most learned the world’s secrets by the sharing by other gamers those hints and clues that they uncovered in their own journeys, and those who uncovered the most treasures of the hidden world were those who journeyed it together.
In a way, the people of Samaria in today’s Gospel are like those early gamers, and it is the story of our faith journey, too. Often we seem to get lost in trying to discover God in our lives, and we depend on those who may have journeyed farther than we have to aid us in our quest. And today is a good time to reflect on our journey along with the Elect, who will be receiving Baptism at Easter, as they will shortly participate in the rite of the 1st Scrutiny.
As a refresher for those of us who are cradle Catholics or otherwise don’t remember, those who will be entering the Church at Easter by receiving Baptism are known as catechumens, or the Elect, and they will be participating in the rites known as the Scrutinies, preparing them for the Easter Vigil.
These rites are held on the last three Sundays of Lent. Each scrutiny has, as part of the rite, a particular passage from the Gospel of St. John which reflects on: first, Christ as Living Water in today’s Gospel; next, Christ as the Light of the World in the story of the man born blind next Sunday; and finally Christ as the Resurrection and the Life in the story on the raising of Lazarus from the dead. The Elect will ponder each of these stories during their time of reflection and discussion.
Let’s pretend that today’s Gospel takes place in the Samaritan village called San Pablo. The main characters of the story are us – we are the woman at the well, her past spouses, her current companion, the rest of the townspeople, the disciples of Jesus. Fr. Szatkowski can be Jesus – after all, he is the Persona Christi at the altar. For the rest of us, see if you see yourself in any of these other roles.
First of all, we should note that all of the people of San Pablo – that’s us – are open to the presence of God. They are separated from others in how they worship, but they believe that God will send a Messiah to unite all people with Him. They, like us, are a people of hope.
But they have their issues. The woman at first is distrustful of a man who shouldn’t even be talking with her – by his rules, not hers. She is not bound by the Jewish religious laws and so is open to the conversation, but she is cautious as the Jews wield a lot of power and influence in the country.
She’s also a bit cynical in her comments to Jesus, as she doesn’t know who he is and probably hasn’t heard the stories about him yet. But the more she talks with him, the more she opens herself to him. She’s thirsty for God and is drinking in the living water of Christ without even recognizing that she is.
How many of us are like the woman – wanting God in our lives but distrustful of others who ask for help, cynical in our beliefs about the abilities of others, defiant in our attitudes, self-righteous in our faith?
Then, there are the men in her life. We don’t know why she has had so many of them – some may have died, some may have just left her, maybe she left them. While we might be quick to judge her since she is living with someone who isn’t her husband now, life was tough for women during that time and it may have been the only way she thought she could have any kind of life. Sadly, it is still true today.
How many of us have difficulties in our relationships – with our co-workers, our spouses, our family members? How often have we turned our back toward someone that we couldn’t handle, or isolated ourselves because of our own insecurities or sense of guilt?
How about the disciples? They left Jesus to rest while they sought out food, but upon returning they see Jesus breaking social conventions in talking with a woman, a Samaritan at that. They were uncomfortable enough to avoid asking about it. How often do we assume the worse in others when we see something we don’t understand?
There’s the rest of the townsfolk. Despite the fact that the woman was living as a bit of an outcast, she must have been inspired enough in her conversation with Jesus to be willing to overcome any separation between herself and the rest of the town to share her “faith” with them and draw them to come see for themselves. And they listened.
Are we inspired enough by the presence of Jesus in our lives to cross boundaries that separate us from others, even those closest to us, and encourage them to “come and see” what inspires us?
Finally, the townsfolk have their own personal encounter with Jesus. Not all of them believed, but they were willing to invite Jesus to stay with them so that they could learn more. The more they listened to Him, the more they came to believe.
And so, like the gamers who explored the world of Zork, we too are on a quest to explore our faith and find the treasure that is Christ. Like the Elect, we should seek out those who have already discovered the clues which help us in our journey – and like the woman at the well we should share with the Elect and with others those clues that we have discovered ourselves.
Finally, as we ponder this Gospel passage about the Woman at the Well, we should ask ourselves: Which character am I? As is often the case, we’re a little bit of all of them. But the more we discover about ourselves in the world of our faith, the closer we get to God. And there is no greater world, no greater Kingdom, no greater treasure, than His.
March 24, 2019 3rd Sunday in Lent - The 1st Scrutiny
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
Zork. There are some of you out there who might remember this iconic adventure game in which you explored an immense underground empire by typing in commands on a computer keyboard. This was long before joysticks, paddles and the fancy graphics of modern computer gaming systems. The original game predated personal computers by a few years and at one time was one of the most popular adventure games available.
The thing about Zork, however, was that you weren’t inundated with visual special effects and dependent upon violent action to “win” the game, but instead you had to explore the world with your mind in order to learn about the treasures it held. There were limited clues at first for the average beginner. Most learned the world’s secrets by the sharing by other gamers those hints and clues that they uncovered in their own journeys, and those who uncovered the most treasures of the hidden world were those who journeyed it together.
In a way, the people of Samaria in today’s Gospel are like those early gamers, and it is the story of our faith journey, too. Often we seem to get lost in trying to discover God in our lives, and we depend on those who may have journeyed farther than we have to aid us in our quest. And today is a good time to reflect on our journey along with the Elect, who will be receiving Baptism at Easter, as they will shortly participate in the rite of the 1st Scrutiny.
As a refresher for those of us who are cradle Catholics or otherwise don’t remember, those who will be entering the Church at Easter by receiving Baptism are known as catechumens, or the Elect, and they will be participating in the rites known as the Scrutinies, preparing them for the Easter Vigil.
These rites are held on the last three Sundays of Lent. Each scrutiny has, as part of the rite, a particular passage from the Gospel of St. John which reflects on: first, Christ as Living Water in today’s Gospel; next, Christ as the Light of the World in the story of the man born blind next Sunday; and finally Christ as the Resurrection and the Life in the story on the raising of Lazarus from the dead. The Elect will ponder each of these stories during their time of reflection and discussion.
Let’s pretend that today’s Gospel takes place in the Samaritan village called San Pablo. The main characters of the story are us – we are the woman at the well, her past spouses, her current companion, the rest of the townspeople, the disciples of Jesus. Fr. Szatkowski can be Jesus – after all, he is the Persona Christi at the altar. For the rest of us, see if you see yourself in any of these other roles.
First of all, we should note that all of the people of San Pablo – that’s us – are open to the presence of God. They are separated from others in how they worship, but they believe that God will send a Messiah to unite all people with Him. They, like us, are a people of hope.
But they have their issues. The woman at first is distrustful of a man who shouldn’t even be talking with her – by his rules, not hers. She is not bound by the Jewish religious laws and so is open to the conversation, but she is cautious as the Jews wield a lot of power and influence in the country.
She’s also a bit cynical in her comments to Jesus, as she doesn’t know who he is and probably hasn’t heard the stories about him yet. But the more she talks with him, the more she opens herself to him. She’s thirsty for God and is drinking in the living water of Christ without even recognizing that she is.
How many of us are like the woman – wanting God in our lives but distrustful of others who ask for help, cynical in our beliefs about the abilities of others, defiant in our attitudes, self-righteous in our faith?
Then, there are the men in her life. We don’t know why she has had so many of them – some may have died, some may have just left her, maybe she left them. While we might be quick to judge her since she is living with someone who isn’t her husband now, life was tough for women during that time and it may have been the only way she thought she could have any kind of life. Sadly, it is still true today.
How many of us have difficulties in our relationships – with our co-workers, our spouses, our family members? How often have we turned our back toward someone that we couldn’t handle, or isolated ourselves because of our own insecurities or sense of guilt?
How about the disciples? They left Jesus to rest while they sought out food, but upon returning they see Jesus breaking social conventions in talking with a woman, a Samaritan at that. They were uncomfortable enough to avoid asking about it. How often do we assume the worse in others when we see something we don’t understand?
There’s the rest of the townsfolk. Despite the fact that the woman was living as a bit of an outcast, she must have been inspired enough in her conversation with Jesus to be willing to overcome any separation between herself and the rest of the town to share her “faith” with them and draw them to come see for themselves. And they listened.
Are we inspired enough by the presence of Jesus in our lives to cross boundaries that separate us from others, even those closest to us, and encourage them to “come and see” what inspires us?
Finally, the townsfolk have their own personal encounter with Jesus. Not all of them believed, but they were willing to invite Jesus to stay with them so that they could learn more. The more they listened to Him, the more they came to believe.
And so, like the gamers who explored the world of Zork, we too are on a quest to explore our faith and find the treasure that is Christ. Like the Elect, we should seek out those who have already discovered the clues which help us in our journey – and like the woman at the well we should share with the Elect and with others those clues that we have discovered ourselves.
Finally, as we ponder this Gospel passage about the Woman at the Well, we should ask ourselves: Which character am I? As is often the case, we’re a little bit of all of them. But the more we discover about ourselves in the world of our faith, the closer we get to God. And there is no greater world, no greater Kingdom, no greater treasure, than His.
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