Preferring Nothing to Christ

Luke 11:1-13

‘Ask, and it will be given to you’

Asking for things in prayer is perhaps one of the first things we learn on our faith journey. In the Primary classroom if you set the children the task of writing a prayer the results will almost always be prayers of petition. There will be prayers for their families, their pets, perhaps for a world event, and then something which can seem completely random. I learnt a good deal about the heart of child from reading these prayers.

 ‘search, and you will find…’

As adults we probably spend more time than we realise searching for physical things that we have misplaced. In recent years I have found myself adding digital searching to my regular searching activities. There’s nothing more frustrating than forgetting to bookmark that excellent article or brilliant hack. There’s always a part of my brain that just wont give up until I have found what I need.

For St Benedict the search for God is as ardent as our search for things that we have lost. There’s a terrific dynamism to the way he expresses this in the Prologue to his Rule:

‘As we progress in this way of life and in faith, we shall run on the path of God’s commands, our hearts overflowing with the inexpressible delight of love. Never swerving from his instructions, then, but faithfully observing his teaching in the monastery until death we shall through patience share in the sufferings of Christ that we may deserve also to share in his Kingdom.’

The search for God is all encompassing.

‘knock, and the door will be opened to you.’

From time to time our Bidding prayers in our monastic oratory include a prayer for those who are ‘unable to knock.’ It strikes me that sometimes we can struggle to find the door and the courage to knock. We aren’t always convinced that the door will be opened.

When I hear this text I’m always conscious of those in my life who, without realising it, have somehow made it a little easier for me to ask, search and knock. Sometimes it has been by their example. Sometimes is has been a chance word or conversation.

Are there people in your own life who have made it easier for you to ask, search and knock? Thank God for those people.

John 20:1-2,11-18

I recently read an article about Pope Francis where the writer talked about the importance of understanding his style of leadership, way of speaking and particular vocabulary. What stands out for me when I think of Pope Francis is his stress on the culture of encounter. Pope Francis wants us to meet people where they are, not where we would like them to be.

It’s possible to see the whole of our salvation history through the prism of encounter. In our biblical imaginations we hold the images of Adam and Eve who are afraid of that encounter and hide themselves, Abraham who encounters God as he look at the stars of the night, Sarah who listens at the opening of the tent and hears God’s promise for her, and so many more. Each encounter involves a person taking one step nearer to the God who holds the promise of all Life.

Mary Magdalene too must take that one step closer to Jesus. Making her way to the tomb in darkness, she’s drawn by the power of every moment of encounter that she has ever had with Jesus. It might well have been as dawn was breaking that Jesus meets her. He takes the initiative. Then she must respond too.

I am always struck by the very human nature of this encounter. Jesus says her name and in that moment Mary is returned to herself. There are no angels or flashes of light, just one person recognising another. Raymond Brown sees in this moment an echo of the Good Shepherd in John 10:

‘She is one of those of whom Jesus said “I know my sheep and mine know me.” ‘

There are many ways for us to come to faith. Mary Magdalene shows us the way of encounter.

Imagine Jesus calling you by name. How do you respond?

Luke 10: 38-42

In the cycle of our Lectionary readings it’s a comparative rarity to find a Gospel text that features women who are both named and are central to the story. Martha and Mary populate our biblical imagination as women who had a particular gift: they were close friends of Jesus. That they open their house to Jesus and his disciples tells us that they were comfortable in each other’s presence.

I’ve listened to many sermons that hold up Martha and Mary as icons of action and contemplation respectively. The preacher may assume that you are likely to identify with one sister more than the other. There will be comments about how the Church needs both Martha and Mary. Then comes the invitation to develop your shadow side.

Robert Karris in his book ‘Eating your way through Luke’s Gospel’ suggests a different approach. He makes the observation that in many stories in Luke’s Gospel where Jesus meets with others around a table the invitation is to identify with Jesus. He suggests that we try it for this story too.

When Jesus is the guest, all eyes must be on him. He is the one thing necessary.

I’m pretty certain that if Jesus and his friends dropped by my monastery for dinner I’d be making the easiest thing possible, using the least amount of pans and making sure I didn’t miss a minute of the conversation. And the washing up would definitely wait until the morning.

How can you make space to listen to Jesus?

Image: Edgar Castrejon, Unsplash

 

Proverbs 2:1-9
Matthew 19:27-29

Some years ago I attended a lecture by Nicholas King sj entitled ‘Religious Life in the Bible. He began the lecture with a wry smile, repeated his lecture title slowly and then told us that of course there in no such thing as ‘Religious Life in the Bible’. I don’t think anybody in the lecture hall had really questioned his title!

When we come to celebrate today’s feast of St Benedict we won’t of course find St Benedict directly pre-figured in the Bible. Instead the Church offers us texts that have been the inspiration for what eventually grew into monasticism.

My son, if you take my words to heart,  
if you set store by my commandments,
tuning your ear to wisdom,  
and applying your heart to truth:
yes, if your plea is for clear perception,  
if you cry out for discernment,
if you look for it as if it were silver,  
and search for it as for buried treasure,
you will then understand what the fear of the Lord is,  
and discover the knowledge of God.

This text from the Wisdom literature of Proverbs resonates immediately for followers of St Benedict. St Benedict begins his Rule is this way:

‘Listen carefully my son, to the master’s instructions and attend to them with the ear of your heart. This is advice from a father who loves you; welcome it, and faithfully put it into practice.’

There is a groundedness and loving measure in each text. I can’t hear one with out the other. This is one of the gifts of the monastic path that your ear, and ideally your heart too, become more finely tuned.

It’s from this place of attentive listening and desire to seek God that I hear Peter’s heartfelt question: ‘What about us? We have left everything and followed you. What are we to have, then?’ Following Jesus, following St Benedict or following any leader is a risky enterprise. I am sure that there comes a point in every monastic’s life when they could very easily voice Peter’s question. Jesus’ response to Peter tells us something of the dynamic at work here: we are to receive ‘a hundred fold’. Following Jesus involves a heart that is both open to giving up AND receiving. In many ways the giving up looks more straight forward. Learning to receive what God offers becomes the lifetime’s work of the monastic and anyone who wants to follow Christ.

How is God calling you to give and receive today?

Luke 10:25-37

The Good Samaritan is perhaps one of the most well-known parables in the Gospels. Often the very familiar parables can become weighed down with stereo typical interpretations, interpretations that often cast Judaism in a bad light. We’ve probably all heard sermons that speak of the priest and the Levite as the ‘elite’ and their concern for purity laws. Luke isn’t interested in purity in this parable. His interest is mercy.

When the Samaritan stops it is because he is is ‘moved with compassion’. His compassion shows itself in concrete action. Straight away he sets about trying to soothe and heal the man’s wounds with oil and wine. In Greek the word for oil is eliaon. It’s from this root that the word for mercy also comes, eleon.

Such is the depth of the Samaritan’s mercy that not only does he try to provide immediate relief for the man but he makes long term provision for him too.

He then lifted him on to his own mount, carried him to the inn and looked after him. Next day, he took out two denarii and handed them to the innkeeper. “Look after him,” he said “and on my way back I will make good any extra expense you have.”

The Samaritan has set no limits on what will be needed to restore the man to health. The lawyer has surely got more than he bargained for with his two questions: ‘Master what must I do to inherit eternal life?’ and ‘Who is my neighbour?’

This parable is about our capacity to show mercy and our willingness to be generous. It is about having our hearts stirred to compassion and the courage to respond with the mercy and generosity of God.

Where in your life is God calling you to bring healing with oil and wine?

Luke 10:1-12, 17-20

In last Sunday’s Gospel we heard the exacting demands of discipleship. This Sunday the focus narrows as we hear just how the seventy-two are to conduct themselves as they set out on their mission.

‘Carry no purse, no haversack, no sandals.’

This is a stark reminder that complete trust in God is required if they are to be God’s instruments. Their full attention it to be given to their mission. It’s perhaps reassuring that they go out in twos. Whoever or whatever they meet on the road will be a little easier if there are two.

‘Whenever you go into a town where they make you welcome, eat what is set before you. Cure those in it who are sick, and say, “The kingdom of God is very near to you.” 

I am struck by the detail and the incarnational tone of the instructions that they are given. That eating comes first perhaps says something about the importance of acceptance and trust in the missionary dynamic. I am reminded here of Tom O’Loughlin’s work on the ‘grammar of meals’:

Meals have their own dynamics, what we might refer to as their own
grammar, which becomes a theological logic with regard to
sharing in one another’s celebrations. I cannot welcome you to
my table and then refuse you food, nor can I take a place at your
table and then refuse what you provide!

Meals, Eucharist and Ecumenism

The disciples are then to meet the needs of all whom they encounter. Sickness loomed large in the time of Jesus and the arrival of people with a reputation for being able to cure would have spread very quickly in any village.

The sharing food and the healing of sickness now provide the backdrop for their core message: ‘the kingdom of God is very near to you.’ The seventy-two in their words and actions are inviting those they meet to welcome the Kingdom with all of its potential and challenge.

How can you welcome this Kingdom this week?

Matthew 16:13-19

That Peter and Paul share a feast day has always struck me as a testament to the fact that from the beginning the Christian community had to navigate different styles of leadership and different opinions. Peter had first hand knowledge of Jesus and Paul did not. It is almost inevitable that they wouldn’t see eye to eye.

In Matthew 16 Jesus asks one of the most important questions in all of the Gospels: ‘Who do you say I am?’

Peter will spend the rest of his life living out his response: ‘You are the Christ, the son of the living God.’ From his Damascus experience to his missionary journeys, Paul too spends the rest of his life living out his response to this fundamental question.

I’ve often imagined myself being in Peter’s position and wondered what my own reply would be.

How would you respond to Jesus?

Luke 9:51-62

It is almost impossible for me to hear this Gospel without also hearing in my head ‘Follow Me’ by Michael Cockett and Sr Madeleine, FCJ. ( I even remember that it was pg 73 in Songs of the Spirit!) My twelve year old self was carried along by the catchy tune and the full force of the words more or less passed me by. It is a pretty good summary of Luke’s exacting demands of discipleship. There’s no way round it: if you want to follow Jesus it demands absolutely everything you have.

Today the final image in the Gospel passage struck me forcibly:

Another said, ‘I will follow you, sir, but first let me go and say goodbye to my people at home.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Once the hand is laid on the plough, no one who looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.’

Sr Verna Holyhead’s commentary was very helpful:

The light Palestinian plough was guided by one hand, usually the left, while the ploughman’s other hand carried a stick with which to goad the oxen that pulled the plough. To make the furrow straight and of the right depth, to lift the plough over rocks that might shatter it, demanded great concentration and dexterity. To take one’s eye off the plough for a moment would be a disaster. So it is with his disciples says Jesus. The eyes of our heart must be fixed on the reign of God with unwavering commitment so that the field of this world may be well ploughed and made ready for God’s harvesting.

This teaching is tough and can leave us feeling inadequate before we even start. The good news is that each day we can renew our commitment to keep our hand to the plough. And while we often think of a call follow Christ in individual terms, the invitation is in fact communal. It’s a call to follow Christ together. Ploughing that field is better together.

How is Christ calling you today?

Ezekiel 34:11-16
Romans 5:5-11
Luke 15:3-7

Recently I have been revisiting Greg Boyle sj’s book, Tattoos on the Heart. Fr Greg works with gangs in Los Angeles and his book tells the most moving story of how God’s love triumphs through every form of adversity.

Fr Greg tells the story of a plane journey he took with three gang members. They had been to an event at the White House and on the return journey one of the homies shares his story with a stewardess. It takes 45 mins and by the end of it she is crying. He returns to his seat a little non plussed. Fr Greg says to him;

‘She saw that you are somebody. She recognized you . . . as the shape of God’s heart. Sometimes people cry when they see that.’

All of our readings today tell us something about the shape of God’s heart. The prophet Ezekiel offers the image of the Good Shepherd. While few of us will have direct experience of tending sheep, the image is accessible. There’s one detail that I love. This shepherd doesn’t just look out for those those who have been scattered and need rescuing. He promises to keep and eye on the ‘fat and healthy’ too. This shepherd has a heart big enough for everyone.

In Paul’s Letter to the Romans we hear that ‘God’s love has been poured into our hearts’. This is a heart that overflows with love. This is not the careful pouring where there is just enough to go round. This is God’s infinite pouring.

In Luke’s story of the Lost Sheep we see the shape of the heart of God again. This time it is a wreckless heart. By all accounts leaving your ninety nine sheep to go in search of one is a risky strategy. This shepherd is a risk taker.

There are so many ways for us to be the shape of God’s heart.

Look out today for the shape of God’s heart in all those you meet today.

Luke 1:57-66,80

What will this child turn out to be?

I have always loved this line from Luke’s account of the Birth of John the Baptist. The reader knows just who he will turn out to be. And yet, I am always caught up in a feeling of expectancy and possibilities. An earlier line in the account kindles a similar feeling of expectancy for me:

The time came for Elizabeth to have her child, and she gave birth to a son; and when her neighbours and relations heard that the Lord had shown her so great a kindness, they shared her joy.

This longed-for child is already surrounded by a network of love and joy. I’d like to think that it is from this implicit place of security that John was able to make his radical choices and follow a path that would eventually lead to martyrdom. No parent would wish this for their child, and yet, there Elizabeth and Zechariah stand as models of righteousness and faith. Their trust in the power of God’s promises was truly tested.

I have to confess to being a little unnerved by many of the portrayals of John the Baptist that I have seen on films etc. There is always an element of the ‘wild man’ about him. And the puzzling detail of surviving on locusts and wild honey can make it very hard to identify with him on a human level. (Now the leather belt and sandals are a different matter, as they are part of my everyday wardrobe!) I can however identify with the clarity of his preaching. That one word, REPENT, change of heart, is the essence of the Benedictine vow of Conversio Morum. It’s a daily call to reorientation and to making space for God. It’s through this vow that I have the opportunity to grow a little more each day. In truth, we never stop growing and never stop asking of ourselves: ‘What will this child turn out to be?’ And, thankfully, what’s not always clear to us, is always clear to God.

How has the Lord shown you great kindness? How can you share your joy?