Genesis 22:1-2, 9-13, 15-18
Psalm 116:10, 15-19
Romans 8:31-34
Mark 9:2-10
Last weekend we began a
three-week reflection on Pope Francis’ Lenten Message for this year, which
focuses particularly on the aspect of indifference or coldness in our hearts.
Looking through the lens of baptism, we saw how our being brought into the
Mystical Body of Christ, the Church, interconnects us with every other baptized
individual in the world and as such we have certain obligations to pray for
them in their time of need and they for us in ours. The second point of the
Pope’s message is that the reality of our ties with the larger community also
applies to the local community.
When we were baptized, in
addition to being made members of the Body of Christ, we each received special
gifts of the Holy Spirit. When we were first created by God He gave every
single one of us particular gifts and talents to profit ourselves and to be
used in service of the larger community. He desired certain of us to be
teachers, musicians, artists, workers of the land, and so on, giving each of us
those gifts. But in baptism we received the life of God that helps to make those
things even more fruitful and adds supernatural power to what was already
there. When we think of this, we often call to mind the invitation to be
involved in the Church parish – to help with the Mass, with ministries,
catechism, and the many other parts of parish life. While we indeed should be
putting our gifts to use in the parish, Pope Francis is inviting us to
recognize to take some time to look outside the visible Church.
In the Gospel we hear St. Peter
happily exclaiming, “Lord, it is good that we are here! Let us build three
tents – one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah!” in response to the
glorious vision of the transfigured Christ. It makes sense, really. Who among
us wouldn’t be thrilled by such a vision that we wouldn’t want to set up camp
and stay there for a good while? And that’s exactly the point. When Christ is
transfigured, it is an experience that is so beautiful that St. Peter wants to
stay there and not go back down the mountain because what awaits them down
there is the Cross. It’s hard days, sleepless nights, little food, lots of
walking, and difficult teachings. Simply put, the transfigured glory of Christ
is a place of incredible comfort and this is why it doesn’t last very long for
the disciples.
Earlier this week I went to a
prayer breakfast and when I arrived I recognized the St. Ann’s parishioners
present but as I looked around I saw a number of other faces that were unknown to
me. They were the faces of the pastors of the other local religious
communities. It struck me that I’ve been here for 8 months and yet I’ve never
laid eyes on most of them. Why? Because I was focused on things here at St. Ann’s.
I don’t see it as a great fault of mine, being as I’m trying to learn the
parish and know you the parishioners, but it did raise my mind to the need to
branch out a bit and connect with other ministers in the community. And that’s
what we’re being invited to do in this time by Pope Francis: to branch out and
see something, someone, new. This is admittedly difficult because we like our
patterns. When I worked the morning shift as a cashier at my parents’ grocery
store, I would line up cigarette packs on the counter in order: 2 packs Marlboro
red, 2 packs Marlboro light, a pack of Kools, etc. The reason was that the
customers were so predictable that I knew exactly what order they would arrive in
the mornings, what they were going to buy, and how much it would cost. We like our
patterns and can easily get tunnel vision on the things that interest us or
affect us most directly. But when we do this we sometimes miss the exact person
or circumstance through which God wants to speak to us.
This week Pope Francis is
inviting us to look outside the comfortable place of the church walls around us
and to seek God’s face in a new way and to serve Him in a new person. First, he
says, we must look to the Church in Heaven, the Church Triumphant who have
already finished the race and won their eternal crown. We look to them and ask
for their prayers for us to be able to run our race well as they have already.
And then we must look to the world around us. Think of it as a divine game of
Where’s Waldo, as we go through our days looking to serve someone we might
normally pass by, pray with someone we might normally leave to themselves, or share
faith with someone who isn’t Catholic or isn’t practicing. It’s a matter of
seeking in our hearts and asking ourselves where we have tunnel vision. Who are
we looking past? Where is the Christ in our midst that we haven’t found yet? Where
is the Lord in need, waiting for us to provide?
I want to conclude today with a
poem by G.A. Studdert Kennedy that speaks directly to this point of Pope
Francis, loving Christ in our midst. It’s entitled ‘Indifference’:
When Jesus came to Golgatha,
They hanged Him on a tree,
They drove great nails through hands
and feet, And made a Calvary.
They crowned Him with a crown of
thorns, Red were His wounds and deep,
For those were crude and cruel days,
And human flesh was cheap !
When Jesus came to Birmingham,
They simply passed Him by,
They never hurt a hair of Him,
They only let Him die;
For men have grown more tender,
And they would not give Him pain,
They only just passed down the street,
And left Him in the rain.
Still Jesus cried, "Forgive them,
For they know not what they do!"
And still it rained the winter rain
That drenched Him through and through;
The crowd went home and left the streets, Without a soul to see,
And Jesus crouched against a wall
And cried for Calvary.
No comments:
Post a Comment