My son, you are with me always, and all I have is yours. But it was only right we should celebrate and rejoice, because your brother was dead and has come to life; he was lost and is found.
These are some of my favourite verses from the Parable of the Lost Son. The father has in fact lost both of his sons. He has welcomed one son back with great festivity, but things won’t be whole or complete until all the family are together. The story leaves us hanging. It is such a powerful story both in what it says and what it leaves unsaid. Did it ever resolve?
Classically the parable is framed in terms of repentance and forgiveness. But Jewish New Testament Scholar, Amy J Levine, sees another strand: counting and searching.
‘We need to take count not only of our blessings, but also of those in our families, and in our communities. And once we count, we need to act. Finding the lost, whether they are sheep, coins, or people, takes work. It also requires our efforts, and from those efforts there is the potential for wholeness and joy.’
Who or what are you called to search for this Lent?
Genesis 37: 3-4. 12-13. 17-18 Matthew 21: 33-43. 45-46
‘Israel(Jacob) loved Joseph more than all his other sons, for he was the son of his old age, and he had a coat with long sleeves made for him.‘
In just one verse the writers of Genesis paint for us a scene that so easily strikes a chord. We can imagine the first time Joseph appears in his special coat. We can imagine the looks and the mutterings. We just know things aren’t going to turn out too well for anyone in this scene.
In the story of Joseph and his brothers there is outright deception, meanness and the uncomfortable feeling that Joseph may have been a bit of a show off. And yet, through all the twists and turns God’s promise prevails. Co-operation and forgiveness are required on the part of Joseph AND his brothers and then God supplies the rest. All twelve brothers avoid a severe famine and God’s plan inches a little further along.
Where can you see God’s promise in the twists and turns of your life?
Today’s Gospel of the Rich Man and Lazarus is part of a sequence of Luke’s exposition of Kingdom values. We meet the familiar theme of a reversal of the world’s ways. Grace and favour come to those whom the world forgets. The Rich Man is desperate for his own suffering to be eased. Abraham pays no heed and we hear some of the most chilling words in Luke’s Gospel:
‘…between us and you a great gulf has been fixed, to stop anyone, if he wanted to, crossing from our side to yours, and to stop any crossing from your side to ours.’
The Rich Man hopes to protect his family from a similar fate.
Hearing this text in Lent sharpens the focus for us. Lent gives us the chance to examine our hearts and ask God to show us where the great gulfs are in our own lives.
How does this story speak to you today? Where are the gulfs in your own life?
Later today we will celebrate First Vespers of one of our Olivetan forebears, St Frances of Rome. She was wife, mother, widow and founder of the monastery of Tor de’ Specchi in Rome.
The accounts of her life bear all the traditional hallmarks of hagiographical writing. She is a special child. Her mother knows this from the beginning; ‘it was as if an angel of God, not an earthly child, had been lent her.’ Every conceivable virtue is ascribed to her, from love of silence to constant prayer. It comes as no surprise to the reader that she sets her heart on Religious Life. But born into a very noble Roman family, her path is already marked out for her, she will marry. Frances obeys her father and makes the best of a lavish wedding and all the fineries that fill her life. She is inwardly restless. A friendship grows with her sister in law, Vannozza, and together they set about living a life of hidden piety at home. When they leave their home they seek out the poor and the needy:
The hours that were not devoted to prayer or to the duties of their state, they employed in works of charity. Almost every day they went to the hospital of San Spirito, and nursed the sick with the kindest attention ; consoling them by their gentle words and tender care, bestowing alms upon the most needy, and above all, tending affectionately the most disgusting cases of disease and infirmity.
Great personal suffering is to come Frances’ way. Alongside serious illness, Frances sees her home destroyed, her servants killed and her children fall victim to plague. She isn’t thwarted and only redoubles her efforts to serve the poor and the needy, turning her ruined house into a hospital. Having fled from Rome for his safety, her husband will return, wounded and in need of her care.
The very practical nature of Frances’ love is something which strikes me each year as we celebrate her life. It’s the small details which help me find a way in:
When she went to the Campo Santo she used to take with her food and delicacies which she gave to the most needy. When she went back home she took with her their worn out scraps of clothing and their poor filthy rags. These she washed with care and thoroughness, as if they were to be used by the Lord himself. Then she folded them carefully and put them away in lavender.
The reverence with which she launders the clothes of the poor speaks to me today. Christ’s is the face she sees in all around her. Every simple task is done for him.
As we celebrate International Women’s Day I am giving thanks for all those women in my life who have taught me fortitude and reverence. I am giving thanks for every small kindness that has smoothed my path. I am giving thanks for those who may never know what an inspiration they were for me.
Traditionally, in the weekdays of Lent, Wednesdays and Fridays are days of special focus on Christ’s passion. Today that focus is very clear. As Jesus journeys to Jerusalem he warns the disciples of the events that will unfold. He has taken the path to suffering. Quite naturally, this is beyond the comprehension of the disciples.
‘Promise that these two sons of mine may sit one at your right hand and the other at your left in your kingdom.’
That the mother of Zebedee’s sons makes a request of Jesus for special positions for her sons has always struck me as very human. As the readers we have the privilege of seeing beyond her question. Her seemingly simple request points me to those times in my life when I haven’t been able to see the whole picture and my motivations have been confused.
In the language of servant, slave and ransom we are invited today to inner conversion. This necessarily involves an awareness of the needs of others and a spirit of willing service.
The capacity to serve is given to all of us in baptism when we share in Christ’s anointing as Priest, Prophet and King. We can be quite certain that at some point in our lives we will be called to draw upon this very specific grace of baptism.
Wash, make yourselves clean. Take your wrong-doing out of my sight. Cease to do evil. Learn to do good, search for justice, help the oppressed, be just to the orphan, plead for the widow.
This is one of my favourite pieces of Hebrew poetry. It has a rhythm which makes it easy to memorise. It’s an uncompromising message and it’s meant to be. The prophet’s job is to see the world as God sees it. Isaiah is impatient with a way of living which compartmentalises worship and daily life: the two must go together. In just a few verses we have a whole programme for Gospel living.
Wash Take Cease Search Learn Help Be just Plead
In the Rule of St Benedict, Lent is seen as a time when we ‘wash away in this holy season the negligences of other times.’ It sounds a little gentler than Isaiah’s message, but the result can be the same.
Today in the first reading from Daniel the prophet looks back over Israel’s covenant relationship. He fully acknowledges that Israel has strayed far from God and to them ‘the look of shame belongs.’ Israel is now completely dependent on God’s mercy.
In Luke today Jesus invites his disciples to ‘be compassionate as your father iscompassionate.’ The love and mercy which is the essence of God in Daniel’s prayer is here held up for our imitation. We learn to be compassionate by expanding our hearts and our perceptions. We learn to be compassionate by being generous with all we have and are.
Give, and there will be gifts for you: a full measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over, will be poured into your lap; because the amount you measure out is the amount you will be given back.
I have spent much of my monastic life as the monastery cellarer and I have learnt the importance of how I measure. In the monastic kitchen you are always making substitutes and adjustments. St Benedict is clear in his Rule that it is one of the cellarer’s jobs to make sure that there is enough for everyone. He evens goes to the trouble of instructing the cellarer to divide each monk’s portion of bread so that it is spread out over the mealtimes.
And then we come to love. How easy it is for me to measure my love. Weighing things out to the last gram. The Gospel challenge for me today is to be the one who gives first and to that hope my full measure will run over.
Where is Christ calling you to give a full measure?
Last week we accompanied Jesus to the desert and this week we are invited to make the climb up a high mountain. We find ourselves in the company of Peter, James and John and watch as Jesus is transfigured.
Matthew’s hearers would have been at home on the mountain top. They would have known this as the place of encounter par excellence. In the Book of Exodus, before Moses ascends Mt Sinai to receive the Law, ‘there were peals of thunder on the mountain and lightning flashes, a dense cloud, and a loud trumpet blast’. God calls Moses to climb the mountain and he obeys. Moses will be called several more times to meet God on the mountain and each encounter will shape salvation history. Encountering God changes Moses’ physical appearance: ‘the skin on his face was radiant after speaking with the Lord.’. Commentators suggest that this phenomenon marks Moses out as someone who not only speaks God’s word but who also embodies it.
There is a rich theological backdrop to the account of the Transfiguration. Each element of the story stands in continuity with the history of Israel. For Peter, James and John this moment can be seen as a strengthening for all that lies ahead. They will accompany Jesus in his passion and death. This moment in and out of time is to reassure them that God’s glory is woven through all that they will experience.
Towards the end of the Gospel passage comes a line which always stands out for me: And when they raised their eyes they saw no one but only Jesus.
Let this be our hope this Lent, that in all that unfolds we may see no one but only Jesus.
‘The Lord your God commands you today to observe these laws and customs; you must keep them with all your heart and all your soul.‘
The Book of Deuteronomy is a favourite of mine. Commentators have drawn my attention to the number of times the ‘heart’ is mentioned. What Deuteronomy offers is a way of the heart. Every thought, every action is to be directed towards God. The keeping of God’s commandments is something which frees us and expands our hearts.
Similar themes are echoed in Ps 118 today. Here we are invited to do God’s will and to seek him with all our hearts. The whole Psalm is a long meditation on the disposition of those who seek God alone.
If we want to keep God’s commands we need space in our hearts. Lent offers the chance to do this.
The picture that I have used today is of our chapel at Turvey. The place in front of the altar is of huge monastic significance. It is there that you stand as a postulant and ask to begin your monastic journey and then some months later you will stand there as you receive your habit. You will stand there at First Profession and make your profession of vows. At Solemn Profession you will prostrate while the community sings the Litany of Saints. As you reach your various Jubilees you will renew your vows on that same spot. And then, when your life has run its course, your coffin will be placed on that same place in front of the altar. Your life has come full circle in front of the altar.
Liturgy and life are intimately connected. What happens in our sacred spaces in symbol and ritual gives us a pattern for our daily lives. In our worship and our daily lives we are called to be upright before God, true to ourselves and reconciled with our neighbour. It’s all of a piece.
Jesus sets us a very high standard today in the Gospel. Our hearts are to be in harmony with our actions.
Is Jesus calling you to reconcile with someone this Lent?
