Homily: Tuesday, 6th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Jas 1:12-18 • Ps 94 • Mk 8:14-21

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Yesterday we saw the blindness of a Pharisee asking Jesus for a sign of His authority from God. Today we see the blindness of Jesus’ own disciples, still struggling to understanding who He is. They were neither evil nor stupid; they just hadn’t grasped that Emmanuel – God with us – quite literally meant that God was with them. Of course, this points to you and me as well, to our own blindness in not always recognizing the clear Presence of God in our own lives.

The disciples are traveling across the lake in the boat.  You would think that with 12 of them someone would remember to pack a lunch. But no. They had only one loaf of bread. As they cross the lake, Jesus is talking to them:

“Keep your eyes open; be on your guard against the yeast of the Pharisees and the yeast of Herod.”  

For the Jews yeast was a corrupting agent because it caused fermentation.  That was why at Passover they ate unleavened, incorrupt, bread. As Paul tells the Corinthians: 

“Get rid of all the old yeast, and make yourselves into a completely new batch of bread, unleavened as you are meant to be” [1 Cor 5:7].

Jesus is simply telling his disciples to avoid two opposing kinds of corruption: that of the Pharisees which is based on narrow-minded and intolerant legalism and that of Herod, is based on amoral and hedonistic pleasure-seeking. Of course, the disciples don’t listen; like us they tend to focus on their own little problems. They latch on to the word “yeast” and link it to their current obsession – not enough bread for them all. All they can think about is their lunch.

Jesus knows what is going in their minds. And so, he chews them out, scolding them for being so self-absorbed, for their continued worries of not having enough bread for their lunch. First, he tosses some rhetorical questions at them: Why are you worried about having no bread? Are your minds so closed, your vision so impaired you can’t see what’s right in front of you? Have you forgotten everything you’ve witnessed? Did it mean nothing?

But then He engages in a little Q&A with them: 

“When I broke the five loaves among the 5,000, how many baskets of leftovers did you pick up?” 

“Twelve,” they answer.  

“And when I broke the seven loaves for the 4,000, how many baskets of leftovers did you collect?” 

“Seven,” they reply.

“And still, you don’t understand?”

Five loaves for 5,000 people and 12 baskets of leftovers…Seven loaves for 4,000 with 7 baskets of leftovers…And you, a mere dozen men, are worried about being short of food when I am with you?

Mark tends to be hard on the disciples. They neither see nor hear, even when they witness the remarkable faith of others who encounter Jesus.They seem not to understand what is happening right before their very eyes. I suppose that’s to be expected. These were practical, down-to-earth men –fishermen, not mystics. They don’t yet know what to make of all the healings and miraculous things they’ve witnessed. A bit like you and me – so often we don’t see or understand what’s right in front of us.

But the disciples are learning…Indeed, only a few days after this event Peter makes His remarkable, Spirit-inspired testimony at Caesarea Philippi.

“Who do you say that I am? Jesus asks them.

And Peter replies, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” [Mt 16:16].

Mark, you see, isn’t really firing his shots at the disciples, because we know the end of their story. No, Mark is concerned about us, about you and me, for Mark knew what he was about. In the Acts of the Apostles, we encounter Mark as an evangelist, companion of Paul, and then Peter, a man who had seen the temptations James addresses in our first reading. 

Can we see? Do we understand? That God is with us? That He loves each of us with a very intimate, personal love? Or is our faith so weak we allow the little things in our lives to drive our thoughts and actions and blind us to the reality of God’s care for us? How about instead we focus on the big things:

On striving for holiness amidst the clutter of our lives.

On deepening our prayer life so we can stay in touch with God’s will for us.

On making disciples by taking Jesus to others

Do these things, the big things, and God will gladly lead us, and help us handle all the rest – the little things like bread, and illness, and family conflict, all the other worries that occupy our minds.

God cares for us, and He loves to take care of faithful ones.

Homily: Tuesday, 7th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Sir 2:1-11 • Ps 37 • Mk 9:30-37

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Okay, here’s a question for you…It’s really a rhetorical question; you don't have to answer, but at least think about it. And try to be honest. 

Do you prefer serving or being served?

If you give it some thought, it’s not an easy question to answer honestly.

Back in my consulting days, I was a frequent flyer on almost every airline. And some of my clients would book me first-class. I certainly didn’t demand it, didn’t even ask for it, but it was nice, especially on long flights. You know, first-class, the first to board and the first to leave, big comfortable seats, a flute of champagne even before take-off, food that was actually edible. Yes, indeed, the service was sure a lot better than I usually received back in coach.

But, you know, I always felt a bit guilty enjoying all that great service. I kept hearing those words of Jesus:

"If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all" [Mk 9:35].

Here I was, first and certainly not last, not serving but being served. Yes, I heard those words, but I really didn't dwell on them. And I had an excuse. After all, it was strictly a business transaction: my client paid for good service and the airline and its employees provided it. I was simply an accidental beneficiary.

The trouble is, you and I can get used to it, and begin to think of ourselves as deserving only to be served. Kind of like the apostles, as Mark describes them. Jesus, of course, knew exactly what they were talking about as they walked along the road, along the Way; they were arguing about who was the greatest – who was the GOAT? For you non-sports fans, GOAT is the acronym for Greatest Of All Time…you know, the Tom Bradys and Michael Jordans of the world. Yes, indeed, the apostles were still unformed disciples, all caught up in their distorted understanding of where Jesus was leading them along that Way. 

Of course, the irony of the situation, and the hubris of the apostles could hardly be greater. There they were, in the presence of Jesus – How did Peter describe Him later? “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God” – and they were just strolling along, arguing about who among them was the greatest.

And to make matters worse for them, Jesus had just told them:

"The Son of Man is to be handed over to men and they will kill him, and three days after his death the Son of Man will rise" [Mk 9:31].

Mark tells us they didn’t understand, that they were afraid to question him. But they knew exactly who the Son of Man was. Afraid to question? Yes, because they didn’t want to hear His answer, because they were pretty sure it too would frighten them.

So, what did they do? What we all do when we don’t like where the conversation’s going. We change the subject, usually to ourselves. Of course, the wonderful thing about all this is we’re confronted here by the unconcealed humanity of the apostles; the realization they’re just like us. You see, Jesus didn’t pick holy men and women to be His disciples. No, He picked folks just like you and me, and then He and His Holy Spirit worked through them and made them holy. And believe me, it was a job only God could do. 

A bit later, once inside the house (a symbol of the Church) Jesus sat down to teach. And He taught them, just as He teaches us through His Church and His Word. We must serve, He commands us. And whom must we serve? All. Everyone. No exceptions. All those you and I encounter as we, too, walk along the Way. And it’s not going to be easy. How did Sirach put it?

“My child, when you come to serve the LORD, stand in justice and fear, prepare yourself for trials.” [Sir 2:1]

Tomorrow, we begin Lent, a time to restart, to reboot our spiritual lives, a time of almsgiving, fasting, and prayer…and a time for service. To serve others is to serve the Lord:

“For I was hungry and you gave me food, thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me…” [Mt 25:35]

Jesus emphasized this by choosing a child, a symbol of whom the Jews called the anawim, the lowly, the weak, the vulnerable. By serving them we recognize God’s presence within them.

And yes, there will be trials, and fearful, unjust times. We will be despised and attacked for protecting and serving the most vulnerable among us.

But God will always be with us, for He is Emmanuel!

Mark: So Much To Tell Us

As I mentioned in a recent post, I've been preparing for the re-opening of our parish Bible Study, which had essentially been shut down since the COVID pandemic hit us last March. 

Among the first and most difficult decisions...Where exactly to begin? As a result of COVID I had time to prepare many Scripture-based reflections that were really unconnected, each focusing on a unique passage or book of Scripture. I also prepared some new study guides (as I call them) for a number of books, and for some reason decided to address many of the minor prophets, a group of Old Testament books that tend to receive little attention. I had hoped to spend some of our first sessions discussing these books...but then I asked the Holy Spirit for some inspiration and direction, and surprisingly found myself being called to Mark's Gospel. Surprised because the idea of starting with Mark hasn't even crossed my mind. But trusting in the Spirit, we will, therefore, turn to Mark when we once again meet together next Monday and Wednesday.

The more I thought about it, though, the better it seemed. Mark is actually a wonderful place to restart our studies, for many reasons. We are currently in the midst of liturgical Year B, the year in which our Sunday Gospel readings are drawn largely from Mark. What we read during our sessions will then be reinforced at Sunday Mass...and vice versa. 

Mark also presents the Good News in an almost breathtaking fashion, moving quickly through Jesus' ministry and the formation of the disciples, but always pointing to and leading us directly to Our Lord's redemptive act: His Passion, Death, and Resurrection. 

As we accompany Mark on this journey we also come to a better understanding of mission. We see the mission of the Son, sent by the Father -- a mission of remarkable love. We see the mission of John the Baptist, foretold and planned from all eternity. And we come to realize that each one of us has also been assigned a mission by the Father. It's not something you and I choose, but something God has chosen for each one of us and to which He calls us. Have you prayed for the Spirit's guidance, asked for His light to shine on the mission that God has chosen for you? Studying Mark helps us recognize this need.

Mark will teach us this and so much more, if only we listen to the Word.

COVID-19 Bible Study Reflection #19: To Approach Our God

I'd like to begin today's reflection with a reading from the Gospel according to Mark. It's a passage in which the evangelist describes two miraculous events that occur almost on top of each other -- two different but intimately related miracles.

Please take a moment now to open your Bible to Mark 5:21-43 and read this passage in which Jesus performs these two miracles, healing one person and reviving another who had died.

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Oh, what a Gospel passage this is for us!

Mark, inspired by the Sprit, blends these two events, these two healings by Jesus. He sandwiches them together, as they happened, so you and I won’t miss the point.

Two people confront Jesus on this day in Galilee, two very different people.

The first is Jairus. Now Jairus was an important man, an official of the local synagogue, the man who oversaw its administration and finances. And because he was an important man, everybody knew him, or wanted to be known by him. Quite likely, everyone in Capernaum who was anyone wanted to be his friend.

We all know men like Jairus. He’s the first to know, the first to shake your hand, to slap you on the back, the first to be invited, the first to be served, the last to be overlooked – a man to be noticed.

That’s not to say he wasn’t also a good, God-fearing man who took his position in the synagogue seriously. His importance in the community would simply have been a byproduct of that position.

Jairus had a family; he had friends and servants; he had a life filled with people who cared for him. He’d probably lived a good life, a life where all had gone well…until now. We sense that Jairus would gladly give up everything he had, everything he was, to save his daughter who was near death.

For 12 years Jairus loved his daughter, loved her as only a father can love. Yes, given her condition, he was desperate. He had no doubt heard of Jesus. What did he have to lose? Why not approach this healer?

But we suspect it’s more than that, don’t we? For the Holy Spirit can act through and in the midst of our desperation. And we know the Spirit is present, for where Jesus is, so too is the Spirit.

Moved by the Spirit, Jairus approached Jesus. No, that’s wrong. He didn’t just approach Jesus. This important man fell to his knees at Jesus’ feet and begged for his daughter’s life. How different from those other important people in the synagogue Jesus last visited. There they plotted to kill Him [Mk 3:6]. Perhaps none of them had a dying child.

Looking up at Jesus, Jairus pleads with Him, begs Him to come and lay hands on the girl, to mediate God’s grace and power so his daughter may be delivered from death – this daughter who has lived just 12 short years.

Jesus, moved by a father’s love for his daughter, goes with Jairus. They’re followed by the crowd, the crowd that always seems to follow Jesus. And it’s in this crowd, this necessary crowd, that we encounter another in need of healing.

For 12 Years Jairus has enjoyed the presence of his daughter. But unlike Jairus, a woman in the crowd has spent those same 12 years on the outside looking in, because for 12 years a flow of blood had made her unclean according to Jewish law.

For 12 years, she was the last one at the well, the last one at the marketplace, the last to be noticed, and the first to turn away. For 12 years, she lived life on the fringes, avoiding people, avoiding contact, avoiding everything… everything except shame.

For 12 years, she had stood among the captives, longing to be free. Her friends had disappeared long ago -- gone, along with her money and her pride. If she had anything left -- anything at all -- she would have given it up just to be healed.

By the time she encountered Jesus she had been 12 years with little real human contact; 12 years without the prayers of the synagogue; 12 years of loneliness. Yes, indeed, you can be lonely, even in a crowd, for she had learned long ago how to appear almost invisible.

There are men and women just like her today. They’re all around us. You see them at the soup kitchen and the food pantry. You see them on city streets and alleyways, along life’s edges, pushing a shopping cart containing a few possessions. The one you might notice, just for a moment, before she slips away.

But they’re here, too, in your neighborhood, living alone, eating alone, always alone. I saw her the other day at Walmart, in front of me at the checkout counter, counting out her change to buy a small bag of groceries.

Of course, sometimes, perhaps most times, we don’t even notice her. Or when we do, we wonder why they let these crazy people out on the streets.

Yes, the woman who reached out to touch Jesus is with us still.

As we accompany Jesus this day in Capernaum, we encounter two very different people, both in desperate need, yet both turning to Jesus filled with hope.

Driven, inspired by the Holy Spirit, Mark asks us to look at these two people, but to look at them together, as he nests their stories one within the other.

They’re so different, these two.

Jairus, the man of importance, doesn’t hesitate. So sure of himself, he goes in search of Jesus, finds Him, and approaches Him directly. He’s the kind of man who can say, “Jesus, help me!” and trust he’ll be welcomed and heard.

But the woman, buried in the crowd…she’s different, isn’t she? She’s not so sure. Does she dare approach Jesus directly? No, 12 years of hiding, 12 years of shame have taken their effect.

She has no place, no position, no privilege, no power, and so she believes she’ll have no welcome. And the thought of more rejection is just too much for her. And so, instead of approaching Jesus openly, which might only bring on more shame, more public humiliation, she decides instead to sneak up on Jesus. If she can just touch His garment, His healing power will flow through her. Then she can slip away silently.

But Jesus sees her, and He feels her, doesn’t He? He senses her presence as the Holy Spirit’s healing power moves through Him to her. He sees her just as clearly as He saw Jairus. Yes, He sees them both that day in Galilee.

Jesus never allows the person in front of Him to block His view of the person hidden in the crowd. Unlike us, His eyes are never so focused on the obvious that He misses those who live on the fringes, those who hide just out of view.

No, Jesus never focuses solely on those whom the world sees as important; for then He might overlook those who have stumbled and fallen.

Jesus sees what the rest of us too often fail to notice.

But perhaps you did notice one thing: both Jairus and the woman fall at Jesus’ feet when they approach Him. Yes, Jairus has been blessed in life, but he knows the source of those blessings. He, too, moved by the Spirit, falls at Jesus’ feet and begs for one more blessing.

Jairus falls, filled with hope, pleading for help, but the woman falls at Jesus’ feet in fearful thanksgiving.

You see, she’s already been healed and knows it. As Mark tells us:

“She felt in her body that she was healed of her affliction” [Mt 5:29].

Because she’s already been healed, she’s fully aware that the power of God flows from this man whose garment she touched.

Jesus calls her to Him, doesn’t He? And how does she approach Him? Mark tells us: “in fear and trembling”?

Filled with God’s healing Spirit, she knew that she was approaching someone who is more than a mere man. And she knew, too, that her salvation was present.

Isn’t it remarkable that St. Paul, uses these same words when he instructs the Philippians to “work out your salvation with fear and trembling” [Phil 2:12]?

For this woman’s salvation, her spiritual healing, far outweighs her physical healing.

“Daughter, your faith has saved you…” [Mk 5:34]

He wants to do more than heal her physically; He wants her to know that her wholeness came from her faith. And He wants to remove her fear of approaching Him.

Only then does He send her on her way: “Go in peace.”

He does much the same when He arrives at the home of Jairus and is told the girl has died. To ease the fears of this father, he says:

“Do not be afraid. Just have faith” [Mk 5:36].

Maybe that’s why we are invited to read about these two healings, one inside the other.

Two very different people -- Jairus in his comfort and position and the woman in her poverty and obscurity – and yet both come to Jesus in humility; both come to Jesus filled with hope; and both come to Jesus in faith.

They leave their encounters with Jesus fully aware that, as St. James reminds us, everything comes from God:

“Do not be deceived, my beloved bothers: all good giving and every perfect gift is from above” [Jas 1:16].

In the same way, we’re reminded of the fact that we are not our own. How did the Psalmist put it?

"Know that the Lord is God; He made us; His we are"[Ps 100:3].

So maybe we're not supposed to wonder whose need was greater, or whose faith was stopnger, or why Jesus stopped to talk with the woman when a little girl was dying and needed Him so desperately. 

Maybe it’s enough for us to know that Jesus saw them both! And that’s the wonder of being a Christian. Jesus will see us too if we fall down before Him in humility, in hope, and in faith.

Of course, the other part of being a Christian is recognizing Jesus in those who stand before us.

Too often today we outsource our response to Jesus’ call.

Why get personally involved when I can just write a check? Anyway, the government will take care of the hungry, the homeless. That’s why we pay all those taxes. As for their spiritual needs…well, isn’t that what bishops, priests, and deacons do?

Yes, we go on with our lives, seemingly unaware that God calls each one of us to do His work in the world.

Your work, dear friends, is the Apostolate -- that is, the work of the Apostles – for you are sent by God into the world. The Second Vatican Council, in its Decree on the Apostolate of the Laity, clearly reminds us of the call God extends to the laity:

“The laity derive the right and duty to the apostolate from their union with Christ the head; incorporated into Christ’s Mystical Body through Baptism and strengthened by the power of the Holy Spirit through Confirmation, they are assigned to the apostolate by the Lord Himself. They are consecrated for the royal priesthood and the holy people (cf. 1 Pt 2:4-10) not only that they may offer spiritual sacrifices in everything they do but also that they may witness to Christ throughout the world” [Apostolicam Actuositatem, 3].

Did you get that? It’s a responsibility, a duty, we all have. You can’t duck it. You can’t imitate Jonah and try to hide from it. We are all, clergy and laity alike, called to “offer spiritual sacrifices in everything” and to “witness to Christ throughout the world.”

I suppose that’s the question for all of us: Have we done much of that lately?

Homily: Monday, 9th Week of Ordinary Time (Year 1)

Readings: Tb 1:3; 2:1a-8 • Psalm 112 • Mk 12:1-12

Our readings today are both beginnings of a sort. We begin a week of readings from Chapter 12 of Mark's Gospel, and also begin a weeklong series of readings from the Book of Tobit.

Tobit is a delightful book, one of the inspired books the Church includes in its canon, but one considered apocryphal by our Protestant bothers and sisters. That's too bad, and I always encourage my Protestant friends to read the book because Tobit offers us a wonderful story of suffering, of faithfulness, of charity, and of the presence of God and His love. It reminds us of the nearness of God, who is always merciful to those who turn to Him in need.

Tobit and his family are Jews living in Nineveh, exiled among the Assyrians, and yet in the face of persecution they keep the faith and follow the Law as God intended. When the Assyrian king, Sennacherib, allowed the persecution and killing of the exiled Jews, Tobit secretly buried the dead. For these acts of charity he had to go into hiding until the king was assassinated by his own relatives.

Now back home with Anna, his wife, and Tobias, his son, he prepares to celebrate Pentecost, the Jewish feast of the harvest, 50 days after Passover. We celebrate Pentecost 50 days after Easter, and even for us it is a feast of harvest, the birthday of the Church and the harvest of souls for God.

Back to Tobit...Before the feast, he sends Tobias to find a needy devout Jew among the exiles and ask him to join the family for the meal. But Tobias returns and reports instead that a Jew had been murdered and his lifeless body left in the street. At great personal risk, Tobit goes out and brings the body back to his home for burial. And for this he is mocked by his neighbors, who are more concerned for their personal safety than for helping those in need, especially for this corporal work of mercy: to bury the dead.

Tobit and his son, Tobias bury the dead

Tobit, of course, sets a wonderful example for us. He rejects the challenges and mockery of the world and instead commits to doing acts of true justice in accordance with God's will. When, like Tobit, we accept God's call to be active witnesses of His love and mercy, we can change the world.

St. Boniface, whose memorial we celebrate today, did exactly that: at great personal risk he changed the world by converting the barbarian German tribes, a vocation that ultimately led to his martyrdom.

St. Boniface (Bishop & Martyr), Apostle to German Tribes

When we contrast the courageous Boniface and the just Tobit with the attitudes Jesus encounters in today's Gospel passage, the difference could hardly be greater.

Jesus confronts the priests, scribes and elders with a parable that points to Himself as the Son of God, as the foundation of the new Temple, the cornerstone rejected by those who thrive in the old. This they cannot bear. It threatens their way of life, a way of life centered on themselves and not on the true worship God desires of them.

In the parable, Jesus portrays them as murderers, who will do anything to protect themselves. In that sense it is, of course, a prophecy through which Jesus, once again, describes His own death. Interestingly, in Mark's version, he tells us that the tenants "seized him [the son] and killed him, and threw him out of the vineyard" [Mk 12:8]. But both Matthew [Mt 21:39] and Luke [Lk 20:15] reverse the order, and the son is first thrown out of the vineyard and then killed. This, of course, is more in keeping with the reality, in which Jesus is thrown from the vineyard, from Jerusalem, and killed outside its walls on Golgotha.

As we listen to this parable we run the risk of applying it only to the scribes and Pharisees, and forgetting that the Gospel isn't about all the others in our lives, all the "thems," but about us, about you and me.

How often do we resemble those Pharisees or those neighbors of Tobit?

How often do we turn away from God's way and choose our own path, one that leads to sin and alienation?

Yes, like those who reject Jesus outright, we too need mercy and reconciliation. We, too, need to drop to our knees and come to God in repentance, and then rise up and do His work in the world.

Lord, teach us to serve you in all things, to measure our lives not by our will but by yours. Help us to serve you by serving those who enter our lives, those you place there in need of your love and mercy.

Homily: Saturday, Octave of Easter

Readings: Acts 4:13-21; Ps 118; Mk 16:9-15
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Today, as we approach the end of the Easter Octave, our eight-day celebration of the Lord’s Resurrection, we find in it the perfect sign of hope. The Resurrection of Jesus is the ultimate demonstration of God’s love. Really, could God provide us with any better guarantee of what He has in store for us?

What I have done for My Son, I will do also for you. As My Son is now with me in glory, so too will you come and dwell with us in eternal happiness. You need only do what the Son asks of you: “Repent and believe in the Gospel” [Mk 1:15].

These words – “Repent and believe in the Gospel” – are among the first words of Jesus we encounter in Mark’s Gospel. As a writer, Mark didn’t elaborate a lot, but just gave us the bare-bones facts. Indeed, he begins his Gospel with another matter-of-fact statement: “The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God” [Mk 1:1]

No theological subtleties there. No, Mark gets right to the point of it all: Jesus is the Christ, the Messiah, and the Son of God. It’s as if Mark is telling his reader: Just keep that in mind as you read this Gospel and all will become clear.

The passage from today’s Gospel reading is no different and includes some of the final verses of Mark’s Gospel. The last verse of this passage is equally straightforward, with the risen Jesus telling His small band of eleven apostles: “Go into the whole world and proclaim the Gospel to every creature” [Mk 16:15]. No exclusions, no dispensations, no excuses. You and all those who follow you – and, that, brothers and sisters, includes you and me – must proclaim the Gospel always and to everyone.

"Go into the whole world and proclaim the Gospel..."

And, remember, these 11 apostles weren’t the most faithful of disciples; and the death of Jesus had pretty much dissolved what little faith they had. They certainly didn’t expect a resurrected Jesus. After all, they believe neither Mary Magdalene nor the two disciples who had encountered our Lord on the road to Emmaus. No, it took Jesus Himself to convince them; and even then they were filled with doubts. It was so bad that Jesus, when He appeared to them, actually chewed them out “for their unbelief and hardness of heart” [Mk 16:14].

But, wasting no time, Jesus continued and gave them that final command, His great commission to proclaim the Gospel to all the world. Matthew, in his Gospel, adds a bit more: “Go therefore,” Jesus commands, “and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you…” [Mt 28:19-20]

But regardless of the version, it’s kind of a scary command, isn’t it? After all, how much Gospel proclaiming have you and I done this week…this month…this year? I suspect it was scary too for the disciples who actually heard Jesus say it. If His Resurrection were unexpected, then this command was even more so.

“It is impossible for us not to speak..."

But then everything changes! We encounter the power of the Holy Spirit, and we see how, in an instant, He can change minds and hearts. His power is manifested in the remarkable witness of the Apostles in today’s reading from Acts. Peter and John, these fishermen, these “uneducated, ordinary men” [Acts 4:13], were doing miraculous things in Jesus’ name while proclaiming the Gospel throughout Jerusalem. They did so because, in their words, “It is impossible for us not to speak about what we have seen and heard” [Acts 4:20].

And so, if you’re a little behind in your Gospel proclaiming, recall again those first words of Jesus: “Repent and believe in the Gospel” -- for they are the key. Immerse yourself in the sacrament of Reconciliation; in repentance let the Holy Spirit shower you with His grace. Open yourself up to Him in prayer. Ask Him to guide you, to help you proclaim the Gospel by living the Gospel, so you, too, will be a witness to the Good News of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Homily: Morning Prayer Saturday 23 Feb

While on my weekend deacons' retreat, I was asked to conduct Saturday's Morning Prayer and preach the homily on the reading from Isaiah, chapter one:

"Wash yourselves clean! Put away your misdeeds from before my eyes; cease doing evil; learn to do good. Make justice your aim: redress the wronged, hear the orphan’s plea, defend the widow. Come now, let us set things right, says the LORD: Though your sins be like scarlet, they may become white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they may become white as wool" [Is 1:-16-18]

My homily follows:
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Sisters and brothers, God often speaks to us in the silence of our hearts, and like Elijah we're called to pull away from the noise of the world and listen for His quiet, still voice [1 Kgs 19]

...become white as snow (By Natalie Hunsaker)

But sometimes God doesn't wait for us to get all cozy and comfortable. Sometimes there's an urgency to His message. He wants us to hear and respond now and so He literally shouts it at us...just like this morning's passage from Isaiah chapter one.

When you read the early Church Fathers, especially their commentaries on Sacred Scripture, one common theme becomes evident: They all preached that the entire Old Testament, virtually every verse, pointed in one direction, to Jesus Christ, to the Good News. And I think there's probably no better example of this than the prophet Isaiah. Listen again to some of the words we just heard:

"Wash yourselves clean!

...Come now, let us set things right, say the Lord.

Though your sins be like scarlet, they may become white as snow."

Do you hear the Gospel here? Do you hear the Good News? Well, all you have to do is turn to Mark's Gospel and listen to the parallel between the first chapters of each book.

In Mark, Jesus begins His public ministry with a proclamation and a command, and as usual Mark gives it to us wrapped up in tight, succinct prose. Listen to these first words spoken by our Lord:

"The time is fulfilled. The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the Gospel" [Mark 1:15].

First He proclaims the fulfillment of all that has come before -- the Law, the Prophets, all is fulfilled. All has been brought to completion. And the Kingdom of God, the Kingdom so long awaited by God's People, is at hand.

But it's not all God's work. We each have a part to play. And so the command: "Repent, and believe in the Gospel."  This command, these six words, are the same words with which we are greeted on Ash Wednesday when the ashes, that sign of repentance, are applied to our foreheads: "Repent, and believe in the Gospel."

These are the words of Lent. These are the words of our journey to the Kingdom. We are called to accept the fact of our sinfulness and the need for repentance. For without repentance the rest of the command means nothing.

"Believe in the Gospel." Believe in the Good News of Jesus Christ. What is the Good News? It's forgiveness. And forgiveness calls for repentance. And it's eternal life, the fruit of our repentance and God's forgiveness.

Believe in forgiveness. Believe in eternal life. Know that God wants to forgive. He wants those scarlet sins of ours, of the entire world, to be washed away. And notice too, both Isaiah and Jesus tell us it's up to us. That's right, God wants us to cooperate in our salvation.

"Repent," commands Jesus. "Wash yourselves clean," Isaiah pleads with God's people. Yes, that's right, you can do the washing. All it takes is repentance. And then, speaking through His prophet, God Himself pleads:  "Come now, let us set things right." Not you, not me, but us. Let's do it together, God says.  You provide the repentance, you do my work in the world, and I'll take care of the forgiveness; I'll provide that salvation I've promised. Let us set things right.

Believe in the Gospel. Believe in the Truth, Jesus says. The truth of redemption. The truth of forgiveness. The truth of eternal life. The truth of Jesus Christ, true God and true man. Believe in Me, Jesus says; Believe in Father, Son and Holy Spirit, for we are here with you.

We will make our dwelling within you. We will work alongside you as you carry out my work, as you carry out your ministry, as you make disciples of all nations, as you preach and teach and heal...for you are never alone.

Brothers and sisters, we are called to be servants of the Truth in our shared ministry.  Let's do it together. Come now, says The Lord, let us set things right.

Praised be Jesus Christ.