Listening for the Voice of Truth

 

Listening for the Voice of Truth

A family was sitting around the dinner table when one person said, “You never listen to me.” The other replied, “Of course I do. I heard every word you said.” But the first person said, “Yes, you heard the words, but you didn’t hear what I was trying to tell you.” We have probably all had a moment like that. We can hear someone’s voice without really listening to their heart. While they are still speaking, we may already be planning our reply, defending ourselves, or holding on to the one sentence that proves our point.

That is very close to what is happening in today’s Gospel. The Pharisees come to Jesus with polite words and a reasonable-sounding question about taxes. But they are not really looking for wisdom. They are listening for something they can use against him. So, before we even hear Jesus’ answer, the Gospel asks us a question: when we come to the Lord, are our hearts open? Are we ready to be taught and changed, or do we simply want Jesus to agree with what we have already decided?

Listening like that is not easy. All of us hear things through our own fears, assumptions and past experiences. With so many voices competing for our attention, how do we recognise the voice that is true, honest and life-giving?

God Calls Us by Name

Isaiah gives us a place to begin. He speaks about gates being opened, and we might think of them as the doors of the heart. God calls each of us by name. Beneath all the noise, it is God’s voice that gives life, meaning and direction. If we stop listening for that voice, it is very easy to lose our way.

Isaiah also reminds us that God is present from the rising of the sun to its setting. So, it is worth asking: whose voice fills my day? There are plenty of voices competing for our attention. Prayer helps us come back to the one voice that matters most. It recentres us and helps us live the whole day as an offering to God.

A Faith That Becomes Thanksgiving

Saint Paul takes this a step further. He reminds the Thessalonians that prayer and daily life belong together. If we are truly thankful for what God has given us, that gratitude will show itself in the way we treat people—in generosity, patience and love.

Faith is not something we keep tucked away for ourselves. The love we receive from God is meant to be shared. The Good News is not just a set of beautiful words. It is the Holy Spirit at work among us, shaping who we are and the way we serve.

Whose Image Do We Bear?

Now we can come back to the question the Pharisees put to Jesus. They want him either to oppose the authorities or to make it sound as though Caesar comes before God. It is a clever trap. And perhaps their question still feels familiar: how do we live our faith in a society that does not always understand or share it?

Jesus answers, “Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and to God what belongs to God.” He is not asking us to choose between being responsible citizens and faithful disciples. The coin bears Caesar’s image, but we bear the image of God. We meet our responsibilities in the world, but our deepest loyalty, our conscience and our whole life belong to the Lord.

A Question for the Week

So here is a simple question to take into the week ahead: which voice is shaping my life? Is it the loudest voice, the most demanding voice, or the voice of God? Are we allowing the Lord to shape the way we speak, listen, choose and serve?

The Lord is not asking us to step away from the world. He asks us to live in it with faith, gratitude and love. May he open our hearts, help us recognise his voice, and teach us to bear his image more clearly in the way we live each day. Amen.

 

The Invitation

Most invitations today arrive by email, social media or text. But when a formal invitation arrives, it feels different. Someone has thought of us. Someone has made a place for us. Someone wants us to be there. And so, we ask: Can I come? What might I need to change to be there? Today, God places an invitation before each one of us. It is not simply an invitation to an event. It is an invitation to share his life.

The Feast God Prepares

Scripture often describes God’s invitation as a wedding feast. Isaiah pictures a banquet on a high mountain: rich food, fine wine and room for everyone. But the heart of the promise is this: God will gather his people. He will wipe away every tear. He will destroy death for ever. That is why we so often hear this reading at funerals. When someone we love is absent, Isaiah asks us to look beyond our sorrow. Our loved one is not forgotten. They are not lost to God. They are welcomed to the feast he has prepared. Even through our tears, we can say: “This is the Lord for whom we hoped. Let us rejoice and be glad that he has saved us.”

The Gospel Invitation

In today’s Gospel, the invitation goes out. But some ignore it. Others refuse it. They are simply too busy. And that can happen to us as well. Life fills up. Urgent things take over. God’s quiet invitation is pushed to the side. Yet God keeps inviting. He opens the doors wide and welcomes everyone. His grace is not a reward for people who seem perfect. It is a gift offered to every person. So, the question is not, “Am I good enough to be invited?” The question is, “Will I open my heart and respond?”

Clothed for the Wedding Feast

Then there is the guest without a wedding garment. This part of the parable can trouble us. But the garment is not about appearances. It points to a heart willing to receive God’s grace—and to be changed by it. God welcomes us as we are. But he loves us too much to leave us as we are. He wants to clothe us in the mercy, compassion and new life of Christ. This is not something we earn. It is grace: a gift to be received and then lived.

Responding with Our Whole Life

So how do we respond? Saint Paul gives us a simple answer: by relying on Christ. Paul has known plenty, and he has known want. Yet his peace does not depend on his circumstances. He can say, “There is nothing I cannot master with the help of the One who gives me strength.” The same grace is offered to us. In joy and in sorrow, in abundance and in need, God gives us what we need for today. And he strengthens us so that we can strengthen one another.

Taking the Next Obvious Step

Today, the Lord calls us back to what matters most. We are his beloved children. A place has been prepared for us. We do not need to pretend that everything is in order. We need only come with open hearts. Here at the Eucharist, Christ gathers us, feeds us and strengthens us for the journey. So let us bring him whatever we carry today. And let us ask for the grace to take one faithful step: to forgive, to pray, to serve, or simply to trust him again. We do not travel alone. Christ walks with us. His grace is enough. His feast awaits us. May we leave today knowing that we are wanted, welcomed and loved—and may our lives become God’s invitation to others.

The Vineyard

 

The Vineyard

Most of us have driven past a vineyard at some time. Here in Australia, we are blessed with many of them, and with winemakers who really know the land. They look at the slope of the hill, the amount of sun, the soil and the kind of grape that will grow best there. It takes knowledge, certainly, but it also takes patience. You cannot hurry a vine. You plant it carefully, tend it faithfully and wait for it to bear fruit.

God’s Loving Care

That is the picture Isaiah gives us in the first reading. God prepares a vineyard for his people. He chooses good ground, clears away the stones and plants the finest vines. In other words, God does everything he can for the vineyard to flourish. He gives it every chance to produce good fruit.

But what happens? Instead of good grapes, the vineyard produces sour ones. We all know that reaction: one taste, a quick wince, and the glass goes back on the table. Something is not right. Isaiah is asking us to look at our own lives in the same honest way. God has given us so much—his love, his mercy, his word and one another. So, what kind of fruit are we producing?

A Gift, Not a Possession

Jesus takes the image a step further. A landowner entrusts his vineyard to tenants. He gives them a place to work, a crop to care for and a harvest to share. But little by little, they forget that the vineyard is a gift. They begin to behave as though it belongs entirely to them. They mistreat the owner’s servants and finally reject his son. When Jesus asks what should happen, the crowd gives a severe answer—and then realises that the story is about them. It is about us too. Everything we have is entrusted to us. Jesus wants us to receive those gifts gratefully, care for them faithfully and use them to bear good fruit.

What Are We Giving Our Attention To?

Saint Paul then gives us some very practical advice: “Do not worry.” Now, that does not mean our troubles are imaginary or that life is always easy. Paul is saying: bring it all to God. Bring the worry, the disappointment, the family concern, the uncertainty—bring everything to God in prayer. And then, he says, turn your attention towards what is true, good, just, pure, loving and worthy of praise. Because what fills our minds will gradually shape our hearts, and what shapes our hearts will shape the way we live.

Listening for the Right Voice

On Tuesday, we had the opportunity to meet Dom Christopher Jamison, a Benedictine monk. He spoke about the three Benedictine vows: stability, obedience and conversatio morum, which means the daily conversion of life. He also spoke about what is sometimes called the “attention economy”. So many voices are competing for our attention—the phone, the news, advertising, social media and all the noise around us. That raises an important question: whose voice are we listening to? What words are shaping us? The Christian life is not simply about occupying a place in the world. It is about becoming the people God calls us to be and bearing good fruit where he has planted us. That happens through prayer, through listening to God’s word and through honest conversations with the people around us.

A Question for the Week Ahead

So here is a question we might carry with us this week: What am I giving my attention to, and what kind of fruit is it producing in me? Each of us has a little patch of the vineyard to care for—our home, our family, our parish, our friendships and the ordinary responsibilities of each day. Let us ask the Lord for the grace to listen to his voice, to care well for what he has entrusted to us and to bear fruit that others can recognise as goodness, peace and love.

Love Made Visible in Our Actions

The Gospel reminds us that faith is revealed not only in what we say, but also in the way we live. Discernment begins when we bring our choices before the Lord and ask: Which path will help me to love more generously? It is natural to think about the cost—in money, time or personal sacrifice—but Jesus gently invites us to look beyond the cost and to notice the person who needs our care.

What We Love Shapes Our Lives

Pedro Arrupe speaks beautifully of this Gospel way of life: “Nothing is more practical than finding God, than falling in love in a quite absolute, final way. What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination, will affect everything. It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning, what you do with your evenings, how you spend your weekends, what you read, whom you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything.” His words invite each of us to ask what truly holds our heart and shapes our daily decisions.

A Rule of Life Shaped by the Heart

God longs for us to become people who listen attentively to his word and allow it to take root within us. A rule of life can help us make room for prayer, compassion and faithful service. It is not simply a list of duties to complete. It is a way of opening our hearts to the Gospel, so that, little by little, Christ forms us into people who are generous, faithful and life-giving.

Seeking the Good of the Other

St Paul speaks directly to us as a Christian community. He calls us to be united in heart and purpose, held together by the love of Christ. We are not asked to ignore our own needs, but neither are we to become so absorbed in them that we fail to see the needs of others. Christian love makes room for both honesty and generosity.

This kind of love asks us to loosen our grip on whatever closes our eyes or hardens our hearts. As we learn to notice the person before us, we become more like Christ, whose love is never distant or withheld, but always seeks the good of the other.

The Vulnerable Face of Christ

On this Migrant and Refugee Sunday, Pope Leo asks us to remember the children and young people who are among the most vulnerable in the experience of migration. They are never merely numbers in a report. Each one is a beloved child of God, with a name, a family, a story and hopes for the future. Their lives call forth our compassion and our prayer.

Each year, millions of children and adolescents are forced to leave their homes because of war, poverty, violence, environmental disasters and other tragedies. Behind every journey is a family facing fear, loss and uncertainty. The scale of this suffering can overwhelm us, but the Gospel asks us not to look away.

For many children, suffering continues long after they have crossed a border or reached a place of safety. Some have lost parents, siblings or friends; others have witnessed terrible violence. Some wait through painful separations while hoping to be reunited with family. Others travel with their parents through exhausting and traumatic conditions. We also hold in prayer those separated from their parents through repatriation. Each of these children deserves to be received with dignity, patience and tenderness.

Solidarity Over Indifference

Even amid such darkness, the light of solidarity continues to shine. Ordinary people choose not to pass by on the other side. Families open their homes and share the warmth of family life. Educators serve in reception centres. Volunteers and aid workers tend the hidden wounds carried by children along migration routes and in our cities. Our own parish community is also invited to ask how we might pray, welcome, listen and offer practical support. Every small act of mercy tells a vulnerable person: you are seen, you are valued and you are not alone.

A Call to Practical Love

Brothers and sisters, our response to migrants and refugees must not be governed by fear alone. The Gospel asks us to bring our concerns honestly before the Lord and then to allow him to enlarge our hearts. Perhaps this week we can begin with one simple step: a prayer, a conversation, an act of welcome or support for those who serve displaced families. In the vulnerable person before us, Christ comes close. May we have the grace to recognise him and the courage to respond with practical love.

 

A generous God and a welcoming parish

 

Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time 

A generous God and a welcoming parish 

The Same Work, but Different Reasons 

Most of us know that the same job can mean very different things to different people. Imagine three street cleaners having a cup of tea at the end of the day. Someone asks them, ‘Why do you do this work?’ 

The first says, ‘It pays the bills and gives me enough to enjoy life. I am saving for a surfing trip to Bali.’ The second says, ‘I do it for my family. I want food on the table and a good education for my children.’ The third says, ‘I want our town to be a good place to live. I like meeting the people along the way, hearing their stories, and helping our streets feel cared for.’ 

All three are doing the same work. All three are doing something worthwhile. But each one sees the work through a different window. 

God’s Generosity Is Greater Than Our Measure 

That is close to what Jesus places before us in today’s Gospel. Workers are called into the vineyard at different hours. Some arrive early and carry the burden of the day. Others come much later. At the end, the landowner gives each one the same wage. We can understand why those who started early grumble. We might have felt the same. ‘Surely, after all these hours, we deserve more.’ 

But Jesus is not giving us a lesson in payroll. He is showing us the heart of God. The vineyard belongs to God, the invitation comes from God, and the reward is God’s gift. No one earns a larger share of God’s love by having arrived first. 

The Parish Is God’s Vineyard 

That speaks directly to us as a parish, especially as we celebrate fifty years of parish life. Some people here remember their early days. You helped establish the community, organize the first gatherings, teach children faith, care for the grounds, prepare the liturgy, visit the sick, raise funds, and make sure there was always a cup of tea and someone to welcome a newcomer. Much of that faithful work was quiet and unseen, but it laid good foundations. 

Others have joined the parish more recently. Some have moved into the area. Some have returned to Mass after many years. Some may still be wondering whether this is truly home. I have arrived rather late in the parish story, perhaps at the eleventh hour. Yet the Gospel says that every one of us is called into the same vineyard and welcomed by the same generous God. 

Holding the Gate Open for Others 

So, our jubilee is not only a time to look back with gratitude. It is also time to ask what kind of parish we are becoming. Are we a community where the long-standing parishioner and the person at Mass for the first time can stand beside one another? Are we ready to make room for the family that arrives late, the person who does not know when to sit or stand, the child who makes a little noise, the grieving person, the lonely person, or the person who is simply trying to find their way back to God? 

Sometimes in parish life we can begin to think, ‘I have been here longer. I have done more. I know how things are done.’ Experience is a gift, and faithful service deserves our gratitude. But experience becomes even more beautiful when it helps another person find a place. The best way to honour those who built our parish is not to close the gate behind them. It is to hold the gate open for the next person whom God is inviting in. 

Making Christ Visible in Our Parish 

Saint Paul gives us another simple measure. He says, ‘For me to live is Christ,’ and he asks that our everyday lives be worthy of the Gospel. In parish terms, that means Christ should be visible not only at the altar, but also at the church door, in the car park, in our meetings, at morning tea, in the parish office, in our care for the sick, and in the way we speak about one another when we disagree. 

The Ordinary Work of the Kingdom 

The work of the vineyard is often very ordinary. It is learning someone’s name. It is noticing who is standing alone. It is making a phone call. It is bringing a meal. It is forgiving an old hurt. It is inviting a young family to become involved. It is thanking the person who quietly does the same task week after week. These small acts may not look dramatic, but they make the Kingdom of God visible among us. 

The prophet Isaiah reminds us to seek the Lord while he is still near and to return to the God who is rich in forgiving. Perhaps today the Lord is near to us in the person sitting a few seats away. Perhaps the invitation to return is meant for someone who has felt on the edge of parish life. Perhaps God is asking each of us to put aside comparison and rediscover gratitude. 

A Parish with the Generous Heart of God 

As we celebrate the years behind us and look towards the years ahead, let us remember this: the parish is not ours to possess. It is God’s vineyard, and we are blessed to work in it together. Some began early. Some came later. Others are still on the road. But the Lord continues to go out, hour after hour, calling people in. 

May we become a parish with the same generous heart as God, grateful for those who have laboured faithfully, ready to welcome those who arrive at the eleventh hour, and willing to use our hearts, our heads and our hands so that every person may discover a home here and encounter the love of Christ. 

 

Forgiveness and the Love That Protects

A Question from the Heart

Peter comes to Jesus today with a question many of us have asked in one form or another: “How often must I forgive?” Perhaps behind his question is a real hurt, a difficult relationship, or someone who keeps doing the same thing. Peter wants a number. He wants to know when he has done enough.

He suggests seven times. That sounds generous. But Jesus answers, “Not seven times, but seventy-seven times.” In other words, forgiveness is not something we keep in a little account book. God does not count out mercy to us, and Jesus asks us not to live with a calculator in our hearts.

That is beautiful, but it is not easy. When the hurt is deep, forgiveness can take a long time. It may begin not with warm feelings, but with a small prayer: “Lord, I do not know how to forgive this. Please begin the work in me.” Sometimes that is all we can honestly pray, and God can work with honesty.

Love Protects

Today is also Safeguarding Sunday, and the theme is simple: “Love Protects.” Those two words belong together. If we love someone, we want them to be safe. We listen. We notice. We take concerns seriously. We do not look away because the truth is awkward or painful.

This is especially important when we speak about forgiveness. Today’s Gospel must never be used to tell someone who has been harmed, “You just have to forgive and move on.” Jesus is not asking victims to pretend that nothing happened. Forgiveness is not forgetting. It is not silence. It does not remove the need for truth, justice, accountability, or appropriate consequences.

Mercy That Reaches the Heart

The servant in Jesus’ parable is forgiven an enormous debt, but he refuses even a little mercy to another. The tragedy is that the mercy he received never reached his heart. He walked out of the master’s presence unchanged.

Jesus is inviting us to let God’s mercy travel from our heads to our hearts. We all stand before God with empty hands. Everything is gift: our life, our faith, every new beginning, every chance to start again. When we remember how patiently God deals with us, we can become more patient with one another.

But God’s mercy is never careless. The Lord sees the wound as well as the sin. He draws close to the person who is hurting. He protects the vulnerable and calls wrongdoing by its name. Mercy and justice are not enemies; they belong together in the healing work of God.

What Protective Love Looks Like

So, what does “love protects” look like in an ordinary parish? It may look very simple. It is learning the names of our children and making sure they know the trusted adults around them. It is listening carefully when a child or vulnerable person says that something does not feel right. It is following our safeguarding practices, even when they feel inconvenient, because love does not leave safety to chance.

It also means noticing the older parishioner who has not been at Mass for a few weeks, the person living alone, the family under pressure, or the person quietly struggling with mental health. Safeguarding is not merely paperwork. It is the daily habit of seeing people, listening to them, and making room for their voice.

And when someone raises a concern, love does not rush to defend a reputation. Love first asks, “Are you safe? How can we help?” A healthy parish is not one where no one ever speaks about difficult things. It is a parish where people know they can speak, where they will be heard, and where concerns will be handled properly.

Saint Paul tells us that love is patient and kind, and that love always protects. Protective love is not suspicious or fearful. It is simply awake. It has its eyes open. It is gentle enough to listen and courageous enough to act.

One Small Step

Perhaps there is someone we need to forgive. Perhaps there is a relationship in which we need clearer boundaries. Perhaps there is someone vulnerable whom we have not noticed. Today the Lord may be inviting each of us to take one small step: to pray, to listen, to speak, to seek help, or to offer compassion.

We do not do this alone. The same God who is “slow to anger and rich in compassion” walks with us. The Lord does not rush the work of healing. He stays close, patiently restoring what has been wounded and teaching us how to love with wisdom.

May our parish be a home where mercy is real, truth is welcomed, and every person—especially every child, young person, older person, and vulnerable person—knows that they are seen, heard, valued, and safe.

Because this is what the love of Christ looks like among us: a love that forgives, a love that heals, and a love that protects.

Amen.

Building on good foundations

 

Foundations of Faith

What are the foundations on which we build our faith? Today’s readings gently bring us back to the heart of the Christian life: our care for one another. In Ezekiel, God is not inviting us to stand over others in judgement, but to love them enough to be concerned for their life, their choices, and their journey with God. Faith is never just private. It draws us into responsibility, tenderness, and courage.

When we hear this reading, we can hear the Lord asking us to become companions for one another in faith, hope, and love. This is the kind of community God is forming among us: not a community quick to criticise, but one ready to heal; not a community that gives up on people, but one that keeps believing that grace can still do beautiful things in every human heart.

Of course, we can only become a reconciling community when we remember our own need for mercy. Each of us stands before God as someone loved, forgiven, and still being healed. That is why the sacrament of reconciliation is not simply about naming our faults. It is about opening our lives to the mercy of God and then becoming people through whom that same mercy can reach others.

Listening with Open Hearts

The psalm gives us a simple but searching prayer: “If today you hear God’s voice, harden not your hearts.” We know how easily the heart can become hardened — through disappointment, weariness, resentment, or fear. Sometimes we grumble. Sometimes we lose hope. Sometimes we let the faults of others become louder than the voice of God.

But the Lord never stops calling us to good pasture. He calls us to a place of nourishment, rest, honesty, and renewal. When we listen to his voice, our hearts become softer. We begin to see others with more patience. We begin to see ourselves with more humility. And little by little, grace teaches us how to love again.

The Debt of Mutual Love

St Paul gives us a beautiful way of thinking about Christian life. He says that the only debt we should carry is the debt of mutual love. Love is not a burden that weighs us down; it is the holy obligation that keeps us human, keeps us connected, and keeps us close to the heart of Christ.

This love seeks the good of the other. It does not ask, “What can I get?” but “How can I help this person come closer to life, goodness, and peace?” In a parish, in a family, in any community, this kind of love builds trust. It creates space for respect, compassion, and forgiveness. And it begins with allowing God to love us first, so that his love may flow through us to those around us.

Christ Present in Difficult Conversations

In the Gospel, Jesus gives us a promise full of comfort: “Where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.” He does not promise to be present only when everything is easy or when everyone agrees. He promises to be with us even in the difficult conversations, the awkward moments, and the painful work of reconciliation.

That is a deeply pastoral word for us. Sometimes love means having the courage to speak, not to shame or condemn, but to help someone find their way back. True correction, in the Christian sense, is never about winning an argument. It is about saving a relationship, restoring dignity, and opening a path toward conversion and healing.

St Paul reminds us that love does no harm to a neighbour. So perhaps the question for us today is this: how do we love one another when someone is struggling, drifting, or losing direction? We do it by walking with them, by listening with them, and by trusting that Christ is already present wherever two or three gather in his name.

Today, let us ask the Lord for hearts that are not hardened but open: open to his voice, open to his mercy, and open to one another. May we become a community where people are not written off but gently called back to life; a community where love speaks the truth with tenderness; a community where Christ is recognised in our midst, guiding us home to the Father.

Take up your cross

 

Take Up Your Cross and Follow Me

How do we encourage people to follow Christ with their whole lives? This question is placed before us in baptism, when we are called to renounce all that leads us away from God and to profess our faith. Our baptismal calling stands at the heart of our Catholic life. Just as our birthday marks our birth into a family that sustains and nurtures us, our baptismal day marks our birth into the family of faith. It is a day worth remembering and celebrating.

Forming Young People in Hope

As we prepare to celebrate this weekend, we are invited to ask how we can help our young people know Jesus more deeply. The presence of many people at Mass each Sunday reminds us that faith is celebrated not only in prayer, but also in the way we live. We are called to be missionaries of hope.

We also need to ask our young people to help us discover what is truly pleasing to God. They carry wisdom that can ignite the fire of faith in others—and in us. We have much to share with them, but they can also renew us as people of faith, hope, and love.

Losing Life to Find It

The Gospel invites us to ponder a love that does not avoid the realities of suffering and death. Jesus shows us that God is willing to surrender everything for our good. To follow him is to learn that life is not something we possess for ourselves alone. As Jesus says, “Whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for my sake will find it.”

Two truths emerge from the teaching of Jesus. First, life is not a private possession, but a gift entrusted to our care. Each day we are called to give thanks for what we have received and to use it generously. Second, our relationship with God is not a bargain in which we trade one thing for another. God embraces us in a way that frees us to become true disciples.

A Living Sacrifice

St Paul writes to the Romans, urging them to offer their bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God. This means allowing our behaviour to be shaped by God’s will and learning to discern what is good. Such discernment requires prayer, reflection on the world in which we live, and positive action that reflects God’s love and mercy.

Our faith is not abstract. It is an active engagement between prayer, reflection, and action. We need to know what is good and what helps us become good people. Our love must be more than skin deep. Together, we are called to build a way of life that transforms our own lives and the world around us.

Three Practical Invitations 

·       Pray with the Gospel: Create space each week to listen to the Gospel before coming to Mass, reflect on what the Word is saying today, and choose one practical step to put it into action.

·       Share our charisms: Help people discover the gifts the Holy Spirit has entrusted to them for the good of others and support one another in sharing these gifts rather than keeping them as private treasures.

·       Have conversations that matter: Listen with the ears of the heart. One practical step could be to form a study group to reflect on Magnifica Humanitas: The Grandeur of Humanity.

St Carlo Acutis gives us a concrete example of this way of life. Through his Eucharistic devotion and generous care for those in need, including within his own family, he expressed a deep love for God. Like him, we are called to rise in faith, hear the voice of Christ, respond to the needs of others, and offer our lives for God’s good purposes.

Who do you say I am?

 

Who do you say I am? This is probably the most important question that Jesus asks his disciples. The responses they give look to compare him to someone else that they have heard about or are familiar with. They have heard the stories about the prophets from the past some may have witnessed the teaching of John the Baptist. It is only Peter who does not make this type of comparison but seeks to encounter Jesus in his divine nature. He is not just any person, but he is the fulfilment of the what the prophets taught.

So, in our own day how do we respond to the question Jesus asks of us. This is more than just familiarity but seeks us to encounter the person of Jesus as he is. This encounter calls us to listen to his teaching about what it is to discover the realm of God. We are called to discover how the Spirit of God unbinds us from what prevents us from seeing Jesus more clearly that we may be bound more intimately in the divine embrace of the Trinity.

When we look at how we encounter Jesus we can be left with different points of who it is that we meet. The word office is often used by a person who leads, and how this is applied to Peter not just as an apostle but as one who has been given the keys of the kingdom of heaven. When we reflect on this passage we are called to reflect on how he exercises his ministry. This is where we can see how Pope Leo as a successor of Peter a symbolic role in the life of the Church has more than just a titular role, but he is called to sanctify, teach and govern people. This threefold ministry is important in how we encounter Jesus in the life of the Church. We are called to be people who develop an intimate prayerful relationship with God. We learn to reflect on how that relationship guides our thinking and how we are known by God. Also, good governance should make the mission of Jesus more easily proclaimed in our own time.

St Paul notes this in his letter to the Romans, he seeks to plumb the depths of God and discover a wisdom that draws us deeper into that relationship. This is more than receiving desired outcomes where we can figure out what God wants. What St Paul stresses is that God will provide what is needed rather than us telling God what needs to happen. While we look at part of the puzzle God is all in all. We can start to see God’s hand at work in all things without making any one thing into God.

I remember reading a book by Paul Davis called “The Mind of God” where he sought to understand how we might encounter God. He made the bold statement that mathematics was the language with which God wrote the universe. This is not just about theoretical theories but an application of these theories to real life. As such we know that in any science it can open doors for us but there is also a certain artistry to life that can be captured moment by moment.

This is where we are called to notice the language that guides us to know Jesus as he is not just as we would have him be. Our way of encountering him unfolds his presence at the heart of our lives. This is not just learning to follow him out of what others say but a willingness to open ourselves to who he is for us and our community. The question that will shape our lives returns to the beginning when Jesus asks us who do you say I am. This will shape our whole life and the life of our community.

 

Do our prayers fall on deaf ears?

 

How often do we believe our prayers go unanswered or overlooked. We make heartfelt requests, but they seem to fall on silent ears. This is the situation presented by the Canaanite woman who makes an earnest prayer that her daughter may be released from the oppression of the devil. Yet Jesus seems not to hear her. The disciples even wanting to avoid a scene ask Jesus to provide what she is asking because she is making so much of a fuss.

When Jesus does give a response, he seems to focus solely on the people of Israel who are lost. Her plea only becomes more urgent when she falls at his feet and says help me. The response about throwing scraps at the house dog seems to be dismissive of her concerns. Yet still she pleads that even this small amount will help her.

What Jesus acknowledges is the faithful persistent of the Canaanite woman to seek out the good for her daughter. This can give hope to us too in bringing our lives before God. The emphasis here is that our prayer does not fall on deaf ears but seeks to provide healing and strength to those in greatest need. This is where our prayer changes us to be open to God’s mercy and love. Faithfulness in prayer can bring forth miracles of grace and healing for others.

So how do we become people of prayer. This is central to the concern of Isaiah when he says that we need to become a people of integrity who care for justice. Much of this concern is shared in the latest social justice statement from the Australian Catholic Bishops that centres on social cohesion and the things that can drive us apart from each other. It notes that we need to be aware of the profound impact on individuals, families and communities. It reminds that behind the statistics are parents skipping meals, delaying medical care, housing insecurity and increasing anxiety for the future. The burden is often taken up by those who are most vulnerable those on fixed incomes, people living with disabilities, first nations people, refugees, and workers on low paid or insecure employment. Central to the covenant that Isaiah speaks about is the need to recognise how we are formed in the image and likeness of God. We observe the sabbath and keep the covenant so that we can form a house of prayer for all people. This is not to isolate us from each other but a living concern for those who meet us in daily life.

The principles of the common good, solidarity, subsidiarity, the universal destination of goods and the preferential option for the poor offer a moral framework for responding to the crisis. These principles call governments, businesses, communities and individuals to ensure that no one is left behind and that economic decisions serve people, not profit alone. Our Catholic agencies provide practical everyday assistance by providing emergency relief, housing assistance, financial advice and advocacy.

Practical actions are encouraged, including noticing those who may be struggling, offering practical help, volunteering, donating, engaging in advocacy for fair wages and affordable housing, and working collaboratively at local and national levels. Above all, the bishops invite us to become “prophets of hope” — people who respond to hardship with compassion, courage and faith.

As St Paul speaks to the Romans we seek to discover the reconciliation of the world from the dead. We are called to be people who are awake and aware of what the resurrection means. The resurrection of Jesus calls people from death into life. It is possible to become people who focus on the mercy of God. This is where our prayer changes us to be open to God’s mercy and love. We become engaged with the living heart of our faith. Faithfulness in prayer can bring forth miracles of grace and healing for others. Just as the Canaanite woman brought her concerns before God for the good of another so can we through our own intercession and providing for the needs of another. To be people who engage our minds, hands and hearts in seeking what is good for another not just ourselves.

 

Sailing into headwinds

 

We can often be caught up in the drama of many modern movies that have lots of action and intrigue. The story often unfolds that we become aware of the people we should care about and what they are trying to escape from. These introductions are important as they provide the groundwork for what follows. Without these introductions we would not feel any connection with the people who are pivotal to the story.

The sound of the gentle breeze convinces Elijah to step out of the cave. The handheld out by Jesus convinces Peter to hang on for dear life. The two stories parallel each other. Elijah had retreated into the mountains because he believed that his life may be in danger following the events on Mt Carmel. Peter believes that he may sink under the waves under the ferocity of the storm. Yet both discover that it is not in the storm, earthquake or wind that the power of God is evident but rather in the calm that follows these events. This is a question that engages us to have the courage to allow God to meet us in the storms of life. Often in our darkest night the light of Christ will shine!

So how do we place ourselves in the story. St Ignatius in his spiritual exercises introduces the form of prayer known as Imaginative Contemplation. This form of prayer follows a similar pattern to Lectio Divina that seeks to explore more deeply how we see the scripture touching our daily lives. This allows scripture to be more than just words written on a page but a Living Word that captures our mind, body and soul. The first step is to set the scene into which we are immersed. In the case of Elijah this is in a cold dank cave in the mountains for Peter it is in a fishing boat tossed about on the Lake of Galilee. Then we imagine what the characters look like and listen to the words they say. Our focus is allowing them to leap off the page and draw us into the unfolding drama. We are not just called to be passive observers but to notice what parts of the story most touch us today and how we become involved in the action.

The questions that seem to occur to me are what moves us deeper into prayer? Where do our lives become enmeshed in the story line. Do we pay attention to the spectacular effects of the storm or are we drawn to a quiet place. In our own lives we can be touched by events that seem to be out of control but then to whom do we turn?

We can be like St Paul speaking to the Romans where he says that even though he is in union with the Holy Spirit that is sorrow is so great and his mental anguish so endless that he is drawn to making difficult decisions. He is willing to be cut off from Christ if it would help others discover him. I don’t know if I would be able to say the same thing. Is our desire for the good of another willing to entrust everything to God.

So, there we are often caught up in the boat with Peter battling to make headway. They encounter Jesus in what they first think is an apparition or a ghost. They are terrified. Yet amid their fear Jesus reaffirms that they are to have courage and not be afraid. Then Peter says if it is you, tell me to come to you across the water. Jesus simply says come. When Peter keeps his eyes on Jesus, he can walk on water! Yet when he feels the force of the wind he starts to sink. Even then when Peter says save me Jesus stretches out his hand immediately. The wind drops and all is calm again.

Will we allow Jesus to meet us in our daily struggles and the times when we seem to be up against strong headwinds and violent storms?

Given more than enough

 

Would we set out to do our shopping without money in our pockets or at least our cards. There are almost daily reports of a cost-of-living crisis where people seek to make ends meet. The demands on the household budget where people seek to meet their immediate needs while also living a fulfilled life. This is where the readings for this weekend look at how meeting these pressures can leave us in a lonely place seeking to find a deeper purpose for our lives.

What do we seek when we come to Mass? The Gospel for this weekend points to coming to a lonely place where they could be by themselves. In our daily lives we can be crowded with people and events. Jesus gathers us so that we can be healed, forgiven and nourished. Spending time to be present to God and to each other can sustain us for the following week. Mass is the source and summit of our lives. We often come with what appears to not enough to feed us, we come with “five loaves and two fish”. This is the title of a book by Cardinal Francis Xavier Nguyen van Thuan who spent 13 years in prison, 9 of those in solitary confinement. It was in that lonely place that we celebrated Mass on his own and was found to convert the guards who were placed to keep an eye on him. Do we allow Jesus to meet us even in the empty space within us that only God can fill?

This is where the prophet Isaiah can help us to seek God even when we seem to be running on empty. He is asking to look to what can nourish our hunger and satisfy our thirst. He says, “listen, listen to me and you will have good things to eat and rich food to enjoy.” What he says to us today are very simple but profound moments that help us to satisfy our deepest need.

He says pay attention. This is more than just pricking our ears up, but it is a way of being present to what motivates us in life. We need to leave aside some things that are undone so that we can attend to God. This means that we need to reorientate our lives and come to God even amid lives that can be occupied with many things. We need to find space in our lives where we can be alone with God. This may be in Church, in our homes or out on a daily walk praying the rosary. We need this time where we can listen to God meeting us in our daily lives. This is what will enliven our souls and enrich our days.

This encouragement comes from St Paul’s letter to the Romans, where he says, “Nothing can come between us and the love of Christ” Nothing can come between us even though the worries and practical circumstances of our lives seem to close in around us. He adds, by emphasis that there is no power or situation that come between us and the love of God made visible in Christ Jesus our Lord.

So, as we come to the Eucharist today sometimes, we can be focused on what has brought us here or what we need to do next. Yet here in this place Jesus meets us and sustains us. When the gifts of bread and wine are brought to the altar maybe add your own silent prayer. Jesus has brought us together to feed and nourish us. What seems so little feeds many in super abundance. The Eucharistic miracle that we are present to each Sunday is not just to feed ourselves but to feed our world. This may seem incredible, but God calls us together to receive the gift of our lives, to bless us, to break open our hearts and to share what we receive for the good of the world. Where does God entrust us with this simple mission of praising his name forever?

 

How do we discern between good and evil?

 

How do we discern between good and evil? This was the request of Solomon when he was entrusted with the leadership of the people.

As we look back over the last three weeks we can start to notice three things.

That God still seeks to scatter the Word of God among us. This scattering is not just a random gesture but a genuine desire that this Word will bear fruit within us. We are told that three things prevent it from taking root. The first is that we only hear the word pass us by. It is just one word among many words, and we find that it can quickly vanish. The second is that we have an experiential response where we become excited by what we hear but then we move on to another experience and then another. Nothing can seem to satisfy us. The third is that we can have this long list of things that we have to attend to that we have no time to sit with the word.
It takes time and patience to provide us with the opportunity to be touched by the word of God. We need to make appointments with God and ourselves to be present and to turn up.

Last week we heard how easy it is for us when we have taken the time to pray and start to live the Gospel that we find that we live in an age that does not want to listen and reflect. We become moved by opinions and ways of living that seem to be at odds with what we hear. This can be distressing because it is easier to be caught up with the mob than discover our own calling to live the Gospel. The temptation is always to notice what is fashionable, powerful and relevant so that we can fit in.

This week we start to notice how the parables that Jesus teaches look to our own foundations. He talks about a pearl of great price and field with a precious treasure. What he is drawing us to consider is what is our own worth in the eyes of God. This is where we can discover how we are created in the image and likeness of God. Where we can become people who discern what is the next good thing that we must do.

The practice of meditating upon scripture allows us not just to hear the Word of God but to listen to it penetrating our own hearts. This encounter with God is not just words written on a page but on our lives. By chewing over the Word not just during our prayer but we discover that it can touch the context and environment in which we live. By allowing it to add savour to our day we can start to notice what we need to attend to and what we can let go. The Word of God is alive and active and as we have heard before it does not return to God without achieving its purpose.

St Paul stresses this in his letter to the Romans where he says, “we know that turning everything to good God cooperates with all those that he has called according to his purpose.”

As Christians we are called not only to encounter the person of Jesus but to notice how he accompanies us to become people who seek God. This is through our celebration of the Word of God and Sacraments. In meeting him we are drawn to a deeper communion. To find a God who sustains us and encourages us to find what truly brings life. We discover a wisdom that is ever ancient and ever new. Where will we find time over this week to listen to God’s Word and allow it to sustain us during the day?

In our own age where do we go seeking to find life?

 

We celebrated the Feast of St James on 25^th July. This is the person who was the first apostle to be martyred for the faith. He was taken by legend by two of his disciples and buried in a field in Northern Spain. In 823 a peaceful hermit, known as Pelayo, lived in his house in the Forest of Libredón. In the evenings, mysterious lights, coming from the forest, began to capture his attention. Surprised at the strange radiances, Pelayo decided to share his restlessness with Teodomiro, the Bishop of Iria Flavia, at that time. Both men came to the place where the flashes came from and discovered the Marmárea Ark, which was buried. So, the lights were interpreted as divine signs.

Inside it, rested three bodies. They were quickly attributed to Santiago the Apostle and the two disciples, Anastasio and Teodoro who guarded his remains until their death. The bishop immediately informed the King in those years, Alfonso II, of the surprising discovery. It was this discovery that initiated this place of St James Tomb as a pilgrimage place that is now known as Santiago de Compostella, or literally St James in the field of stars.

So why do millions of pilgrimages journey to Santiago in our day. This has become popular since Pope Pius XI and later Pope Pius XII saw it as an important place of pilgrimage for our modern age as it sought to reunite Europe after the ravages of war. Many movements that were birthed at that time took up the challenge to provide leadership to the Christian World including Cursillo, Opus Dei and the Neo Catechumenal way. But it recognised how the Christian faith was born at a time where destructive conflict had been ever present in people’s lives. There was a call to find a new way that sought to look deeply within their own hearts for a rule of life that could sustain them in a world that sought to rebuild hope. This includes such movements as Taizé, Focolare and Young Christian Workers among many others.

There was a desire to find life that allowed people to build on solid foundations.

In the gospel today we hear the same movement arising in people’s hearts the seeker, the finding, the joy and the seeking to invest everything in this treasure. In our own age this goes against the smorgasbord approach to life that seeks to find a little bit of goodness in everything.

We are called to develop a discerning spirit as we have heard over the last week that seeks to find good seed in our lives. It is where we are called to listen to the voice of God in scripture, in our sacramental celebrations and in our daily lives. Father Brendan Byrne SJ notes that in The First Reading, 1 Kings 3:5, 7-12, “comes in here in the sense that what Solomon prayed for – and received – was a discerning heart, a heart that, amid all the wealth and opportunity with which he was surrounded, could tell what was of true and lasting value.”

As Father Brendan Byrne SJ comments: “The two brief parables encapsulate the essence of Christian spirituality. Christian life requires a measure of detachment. It requires freedom from being completely absorbed and immersed in the attractions, pleasures and concerns of this world – not because these are bad in themselves but because we have been 'captured' by a sense of God’s love and God’s future for us that relativises all these things and puts them in their place. We do not yet possess the treasure but the prospect of it, unseen but grasped in faith, is already working transformation.”

So, in our own age where do we go seeking to find life? What will sustain us in on journey of faith? Who do we discover that will help us discover the kingdom of God that is ever ancient and ever new?

We stand against violence and hatred, but we should not become violence and hatred

 Over the last week it has been possible to witness the things that can divide us.  It has also drawn much commentary which seeks to understand what is happening and the potential fallout for the rest of the world. During the week I have been revisiting my reflection on Jacques Philippe’s book on the Beatitudes, The Eight Doors. In it, he talks about when choosing a response between force and love we should always choose love. This is not because we are doormats but because we seek to recognise the dignity of each person and it is only by loving what we consider unlovable that we can restore and reconcile the other. As we know hate breeds hate and violence breeds violence. As Odette Churchill noted after her incarceration at Ravensbrook it is easy to see how the parasite of evil can transfer between hosts to infect the whole world. While we are called to stand against violence and hatred, we should not become violence and hatred.

The three parables for this weekend start with the words the Kingdom of God is like. This continues to draw on the image of the Sower that we heard from last week but also shows the reality of how an enemy will sow darnel in the field. This is often the contradiction that we see in our world today where people are quick to sow the words of hatred, suspicion, and division. Words that seek peace, hope and charity are often lost in the crowd. This is where we need to have a discerning heart because the voice of Jesus and the voice of the enemy can seem similar but are distinct.

The word of Jesus will show itself in the fruits it produces love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control whereas the fruits of the evil one lead hatred, despair, conflict, impatience, cruelty, malice, betrayal, lack of self-restraint and harshness. When we become aware of these conflicting voices in our lives there is a tendency to try and root them out. Yet it is through faithful listening that God is present and helps us to recognise the different voices. We are called to follow the voice of Jesus who will bring us to life and live it to the full.

As St Paul says to the Romans the Spirit comes to help us in our weakness. Our prayer is not about finding the right words but a heartfelt desire to encounter the mind and heart of God. We see this in the Gospel that even the smallest act of kindness can provide shelter and comfort to others and can provide the leaven that produce a way of being present for the good of others.

How then can we live Christian lives in times of uncertainty and fear? It is easy to see how we can be caught up in a polemic which only increases tensions and divides people one against another. It can be seen too easily in racism, nationalism or sexism. The ability to take sides seems to be somehow too easy. Rather than seek to build bridges it is easier to build walls. These shuts people out not just in manmade structures but also in the barbed wire we wind around our hearts which stop others from coming too close.

So, when we look at the readings for this weekend there is a sense of a search that distinguishes power and authority. Wisdom helps us to witness how God’s Holy Spirit guides us to make good choices not just for ourselves but for the common good. A virtuous person seeks to discover an equanimity that seeks to grow in a healthy and lifegiving relationship with another person. What we see is not an attitude of retribution that seeks to judge or harshness on the other person. Rather it seeks to face the truth with faith, hope and love. In this way we do not allow one evil to breed new evils.

The Word does not return empty without achieving its purpose.

 

God seems to be a carefree gardener some might even verge on saying he is careless where the seed is thrown or even wasteful. This is not how we are taught to approach projects in our own gardens or in farming some land. The focus is on producing something that is useful or beautiful. We start to plant with the hope that we give the best opportunity for something to benefit others and ourselves.

Jesus uses parables that help us to notice where God speaks to us in our daily lives. The parable of the Sower of the seed is no different. The Word of God is called to take root in our lives. Lectio Divina helps us to notice how the Word needs to take root in our lives. This way of prayer allows for a gentle repetition where we are called to first notice what calls us to raise questions about where that Word touches our lives. When we repeat it for the second time, we can start to notice how the Word touches our hearts and helps us to listen with our hearts. When we repeat for the third time, we start to notice what nourishes us and feels like real food, by taking the Word into our daily lives we can start to have something that can sustain us through the day. By gentle repetition we become aware of what allows to provide good soil in which the Word can take root.

Yet in Isaiah we hear that the word from my mouth does not return to me empty without carrying out my will and succeeding in what it was sent to do. This can change our perspective from looking solely at ourselves towards what the Word of God seeks to achieve. If it falls on the path birds are fed, if it lands in little soil it can hold tenaciously before final wilting for lack of nutrients, if it falls in the brambles it seeks to compete for the attention it deserves and if it lands in good soil, it can flourish and grow.

This echoes of the words of St Paul to the Romans. “It was not any fault on the part of creation that it was made unable to attain its purpose, it was made so by God; but creation still remains the hope of being freed, like us from its slavery to decadence, to enjoy the same freedom and glory as the children of God.”  There is a tension in listening to the Word that it seeks to bring about what it is sent to achieve.

So, in the heart of the teaching that the disciples are contained in the following phrases.

·      You will listen and listen again, but not understand

·      See and see again but not perceive

·      For the heart of this nation has grown course,

·      Their ears are dull of hearing

·      And they have shut their eyes, for fear they should see with their eyes

·      Hear with their ears

·      Understood with their hearts

·      And be converted and healed by me

This is where we seek to allow the Word of God to be heard and lived in our lives. We need to notice where the Word of God can flow off us like Teflon. The Word can be carried away by another stray thought of something that seems more urgent. There are times when the Word gives us temporary consolation but then drifts away like the mist. Then there can be many things that can keep us busy during the day that rob us of our freedom. Yet the practice of Lectio Divina can stay with us throughout the day. When we notice those moments that rob us of peace we can gently focus back on the Word or phrase that we have received for the day. And at the end of the day give thanks for the fruits it has produced in our lives. The Word of God does not return empty without achieving its purpose.