Giving of myself for the life of others

 For many years, I would visit the blood bank once every three months to donate blood. At times, I could also give plasma, as they said I had good veins! Once, I tried to donate platelets but had a bad reaction to the anticoagulant that they used during the procedure. While I was donating, it often allowed me to pray a rosary that was the perfect length between Hail Marys to squeeze and keep the blood flowing. Giving myself to others overcame many of my fears and uncertainties. 

As we contemplate the feast of Corpus Christi (The Body and Blood of Christ), we are called to reflect on how he gave Himself for our good. Each Eucharist we encounter is a profound act of love that overflows into our lives. We are called to allow his blood to flow through our veins and his body to bring us life. In many ways, we discover that he seeks to sustain us with life flowing from the Father through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit.

One of the miracles of modern medicine is that we encounter this ability to donate our lives for the good of others. There is a sense where we discover the memories of another sustain us as they become one with us. May the Body and Blood of Christ transform us. How do we meet him in His Real Presence that enfolds us in compassion to live each day in His love? 

Invited to join the dance.

 I am always struck by Rublev's icon of the Trinity, where there is an invitation to sit at the table and be drawn into a relationship with God, who is present in three persons. Sometimes, when we try to explain the theology behind this mystery, it is enough to make our brains hurt. We can be caught up in trying to express in language what is at the heart of the relationship between God and humankind. We turn a mystery into a riddle rather than an encounter. We are called to discover God, who calls us to be fully human and fully alive.

As we ponder how God meets us at the heart of this relationship, we start to realise that it is not just about what we know about God but how we are known by God. This realisation helps us to discover that God is not just learnt from a book but in an encounter that changes us from the inside out. There is a divinisation that helps us to know God at the core of our being. This is not just wishful thinking but a way of being present to God in the real events of daily life. This brings together both the revelation of scripture and our own personal history. Where these two realities meet, we discover the person of Jesus who is fully human and fully divine. This opens us to the possibility of finding God in the everyday events of our lives.

As we step into this divine dance, we discover a God who is the dance, the dancer and the dancing. This is a dynamic, not static, revelation that God is ever ancient and new. We are called into the midst of the swirl of activity, where we do not just sit at the side of the room waiting for God to pull us onto the dance floor. God whirls around us in a way that makes our heads spin, our hearts beat faster, and our bodies are caught by the rhythm and cadence. Life calls us to the heart of the dance and calls us to dance with the dancer. 

Words inspired by the Holy Spirit

 When Pope Leo was elected, one of the reflections was that he was a polyglot who could speak easily in different languages. I am often struck by the ability of people who can speak in another language naturally, as if it were their own. In a world that usually seems flooded by words, we often struggle to be understood in our native tongue. The ability to hear what another says but to listen to its emphasis becomes part of our everyday life. We are called to discern what is spoken and what rings true. The ability to attend well to another assists in the proclamation of the Gospel in our current age.

As we gather to celebrate Pentecost, we notice that Mary is central to the birth of the Spirit of God in the infant Church. Just as she bore Jesus in her own womb and gave birth to him in Bethlehem, so she bears the embryonic Church in the room of her heart. This is seen in how people gather at the crib during Jesus' birth, and the disciples gather in the Upper Room around Mary. The wonder and awe are expressed in the descent of the Holy Spirit, who enables the voice of Jesus to be heard in many languages simultaneously. Mary, as Mother of the Church, prays for us and with us so that we may witness the Gospel in our daily lives.

This season reminds us that we are called to radiate God's love in the ordinary events of our lives. This is emphasised in how we are drawn into a Trinitarian relationship through the gifts of Jesus' Body and Blood. We touch the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary as we seek to live inspired by the Holy Spirit. Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of your love. 

A Blare of Trumpets for the Lord

 I am a Tottenham Hotspur fan, and I was elated that we finally won the Europa League Cup after a somewhat disappointing season in the Champions League. What followed was a sense of relief and elation that gathered tens of thousands of people to witness the cup being carried back to the home ground. Set against this background, we also saw Liverpool fans gather in the City centre to celebrate winning the Champions League. Yet, into the midst of this reality, from a point of having our spirits elevated, we are plunged back into confronting the evils of the world after we witness the events that saw a person drive into celebrating fans, with many people injured. Into the midst of this elevation, we start to see the reality of devastation.

We can see this played out in many circumstances worldwide. Success on the soccer field can blunt our senses and make us confront the reality of suffering in the world with the message of good news. We don’t want something that can just blunt our pain or numb us from how our lives can make a difference in the world. This is why the human heart cries out for mercy and compassion. We see this in many conflict areas in Gaza, Myanmar, Sudan, Venezuela, Nicaragua and Congo. Often, we can feel that the reporting of the news can just desensitise us to the misery that others live with daily. Closer to home, we witness the floods in Taree and the North Coast of New South Wales, and people are still recovering from previous traumatic events in Queensland. The reality is that a simple trip to the shops in Bondi or North Melbourne can turn into a horror.  This is where our hearts are rendered, sometimes looking into the sky for answers and glimpses of hope in hopeless situations.

This is where the scripture speaks to us of people who seek to witness the reality of salvation and not just redemption from sin. This is where Hebrews speaks to us of being sincere in heart and filled with faith, our minds sprinkled and free from any trace of bad conscience. This is where our lives are called to bear witness to the hope we profess because of the one we follow. Our faithfulness calls us to a repentance from sin and the spirit that can deaden our lives. Instead, we are called to be people who prepare to receive the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, filled with joy, and lifted in following our God.

So, this is where we are called to be people who acknowledge how the Spirit of Jesus calls us to be filled with the Holy Spirit that is witnessed by love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, fortitude, gentleness, faith, modesty, self-control and chastity. These are not just seen as a checklist but signs of how the Holy Spirit is called to abide with us in our community. In a world that seeks to divide us and disfigure us with words of violence and hatred, we are called to be people who proclaim these fruits with our lives. In our prayer, reflections, and actions, we are called to witness the truth of Jesus, who does not leave us orphans. He calls us to be people who radiate Easter joy, especially in the times when we feel most beset by the troubles of our current day. We witness God mount his throne to shouts of joy: a blare of trumpets for the Lord. 

Being at home

 When we consider the difference between a house and a home, we must remember that it is not just a place where we unpack our stuff. We are called to see that our place reveals something of our personality and priorities. It helps us discover our identity and who we are called to become. This is where we can notice what brings us life and blessing.

In the scriptures, we read how God makes his home with us. This is not just tidying up our place in anticipation of a vital visitor, but rather a God who walks into the mess and disorder of our lives. This visitation allows us to discover how God seeks out the pearl of great price within us and reorders how we live from the inside out. No longer is our faith shaped by looking good to others, but by an interior conversion of heart.

This allows us to become people who seek to welcome the Word of God into our own hearts. That we might discover the homeliness that transforms us into people of thanksgiving. This Eucharistic heart prepares us to be people who can be at home with God, who invites us to the table of life. May we be at peace with God who dwells deep within. 

Pruning

 The seasons seem to be out of order. We have skipped winter and gone straight into Spring. Daffodils are starting to put forward their new growth at least two months early. Those who are more attentive to their gardens would also notice subtle changes in the climate and how this can confuse plants, no less than ourselves. Yet this weekend we talk about the importance of pruning and tidying up the garden of our lives. There is a need to be aware of where new growth is starting to emerge and what impedes it. 

Unlike Lent, this is not just a time to focus on the adverse effects of sin but to notice how we resist meeting the risen Christ in this new springtime of our lives, even as we prepare for winter. This is where we no longer focus on what causes death but on what brings life. This takes a willingness to work in harmony with the Holy Spirit and find ways to share the gifts entrusted to us for the good of others. We start to notice how we are called to resist the temptation to hoard what we have been given for a rainy day or become like bears who hibernate in winter. There can be a secret fear that we will become less if we give anything away. We can start to measure our lives by what we own rather than what we are worth.

This is the gentle encouragement of Easter when we discover the risen Christ in the reality of daily life. God does not wait until we have it, but meets us where we most need to be met. We are not called to wait for the perfect opportunity for this to happen, but to be embraced by God's love that enriches and emboldens us to be present to the whole of God's creation. We are Easter people who proclaim that our mission is to meet Jesus each day, as we are not as we think we should be.

Listen to my voice

 Good Shepherd Sunday is an appropriate time when the Cardinals in Conclave consider a Pope to succeed Pope Francis. It allows us to reflect on our journey of faith, where we are called to listen, follow and seek the Kingdom of God. This is at the heart of a person in leadership. They need to be people who listen to the voice of God and discern what gathers us into one flock. This way of being present does not assume authority equates with power. Their office is at the service of others so that they can be people of Faith who proclaim the Gospel to our current age. They call us to a wholeness and holiness of life.

They then lead us by witnessing what is central to the Christian life. They teach not just in the words that they preach but in the life that they live. In our own age, they need to proclaim who they follow and how that encourages us to walk beside them on the journey. They walk amid the flock. This approach allows them to be more than a sheep dog yapping at our heels or a figurehead who appears remote from daily life. By being in our midst, we discover how the Good News of Jesus Christ transforms our way of living. We become people of Hope. 

By seeking ways to be present to others, we start to discover that this is not simply about making plans or setting agendas, but rather a way of being present. This allows the opportunity to have a God's eye view on how we order our lives to live the Gospel more easily. We become people motivated by the Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy to manifest the grace of God. We become people of Charity.

This threefold office of Sanctifying, Teaching, and Governance is at the heart of the Good Shepherd. Our new Pope must be a person of Prayer who embodies the Sacred Heart of Jesus. We hope he will be a living witness to the teaching of our faith that can be understood in our own time. We seek ways that lead us to be charitable with our whole lives.

Do you Love Me!

 The three questions that Jesus asks Peter illustrate the distinction between conditional and unconditional love. They help us understand the mission of God, which is to love each of us unconditionally and to respond to that call. This availability to engage in conversation daily lies at the heart of our prayer. It echoes the words that Jesus says, when he says that we need to love with all our heart, all our soul, all our mind, and all our strength, and to love our neighbour as ourselves. This golden rule is called the core of the Easter journey. This is where we encounter the risen Christ in our daily lives and act accordingly, guided by our beliefs.

This is poignant as we gather to consider who will be our next Pope and reflect on the legacy of Pope Francis. We are called to be people of faith, hope and love. This is about entering into a dialogue that witnesses to how our prayer overflows into our daily activities. The prayer touches the heart of Jesus as we sit down and gaze upon him. The ability to take a long, loving look at the real world emboldens us to be people who are not passive recipients of grace, but fellow travellers. We are all pilgrims on the journey who seek to embody the life of God for others in all that we do.

Over the last nine days of mourning for Pope Francis we are challenged by many of the Saints that we have celebrated over the previous week: Saint Peter Chanel who carried the Word of God to Oceania; St Catherine of Siena who sought to depth the wells of salvation and challenged the Popes of her time to be faithful to their office; Pope Pius V who sought to bring unity in the Church, St Joseph the Worker who sought people to find their dignity in their work and St Athanasius who sought people to be united in the expression of their beliefs. As we pray for the Cardinals who enter the Conclave next Wednesday, 7th May, we hold them before God that they may be inspired to choose a person who, like Peter, listens to the Unconditional Love of Christ to serve and look after the flock.

My Lord and My God!

 As we enter the season of Easter, it is good to reflect on how we are present to the risen Christ. Lent prepares us for this time by helping us recognise what impedes our progress on the journey and where we become aware of our attachments. This is a time when we are called to surrender our lives to the leading of the Holy Spirit. There can be a sense in which we can feel depleted during this time of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. This process of drying out is necessary in a similar way that green wood needs to be dried if it is to catch fire more easily.

This is where we find ourselves, especially as we ponder with the disciples what it means to meet the risen Christ. He appears in their midst and wishes peace upon them. He even gives them the power to forgive or retain sins. This is important as we celebrate the Feast of the Divine Mercy. This is not just about trusting that God can forgive sins, but also about allowing ourselves to be transformed into ambassadors of God's forgiving love. This is not just about saying sorry but seeking mercy, not sacrifice. We touch the wounded heart of Christ so that we can touch the wounds in others.

As we grieve the passing of Pope Francis, we are called to reflect on his legacy, but also on how we are called to be people of faith who reach out to the margins. This is where Thomas could be the apostle of our age. He seeks to see the wounds of Christ for himself and to touch them. We are part of a wounded Church and a wounded world. When we feel those wounds in faith, our eyes and our hearts are opened to an incarnate love that does not leave us orphaned. We are people who seek to discover the truth of the resurrection, not as something that we read about, but as an encounter with the Risen Christ. As we enter these nine days of mourning and prepare for the Conclave that will choose the next Pope, we are called to discover how we touch the wounds of Christ in our own lives. May they heal us that we too may say My Lord and My God!

God makes an election for us!

 During an election campaign, it is easy to miss the wood for the trees. We can be caught up with the various promises and policies that cascade upon us. We can become deaf to the voices we hear or at least tuned in only to what already reaffirms our beliefs. Yet amid all these different points of view, we need to be people who discern what God is saying to our hearts and minds. This is not just about deciding who to vote for, but who we seek to embody our voice in making decisions on our behalf. It calls us to know who the person is and not just what they can do for us. 

When we consider this in the light of Easter, we start to see that God makes an election for us. This is not just about winning us over to God's point of view but rather recognising what it is to give your life for another. On Holy Thursday, we witness a person who seeks to provide us with food for the journey. We are nourished by the person who breaks bread for us and seeks to share His whole self. In the Garden of Gethsemane, we start to see how the human and divine are united in the person of Jesus. He weeps blood for us as he seeks to passionately open up to all that needs to be reconciled within us. On Good Friday, we notice the depth of Jesus' love for us, where the focus is on the person willing to suffer for us and allow us to be healed by His wounds. These threefold elements of nourishment, forgiveness and healing are at the heart of our sacramental life. They embody our encounter with the person of Jesus, who is at the heart of the Paschal mystery.

As we ponder this in the silence of Holy Saturday, we anticipate a new way of living. We seek to discover how to be people who encounter the risen Christ. We no longer seek to live past glories but a present incarnation of Jesus Christ who seeks to accompany us along the way. This is the story of Easter, where Jesus meets us as we seek to live the mission of proclaiming his life to the world. This new reality guides our minds and hearts, where we discover that God makes an election for us!

Whose voice do we listen out for?

As we enter into Holy Week we accompany Jesus through his triumphant entry into Jerusalem, his arrest and condemnation, and his death on Calvary. What particularly strikes me about the way of the story unfolds how he is faithful to His relationship with God the Father and the mission to proclaim reconciliation, nourishment and healing. This touches into the mystery of the Paschal Mystery where we witness the depth of God's love for us that seeks to show that we have eternal worth.

In the Garden of Gethsemane Jesus pray that all he has sought to teach and witness of the Father's love be united in the person he is. This wrestling of the human and the divine love is at the heart of the witness of every Christian. We want to undertake good works for the good of humanity but we also want to fall more deeply in love with God who recreates us each day. The scene that unfolds in the Garden is how Jesus unites the human and divine in the person he is called to be.

This is witnessed by how he seeks to nourish us through the Eucharist, where he heals us through his wounds and he seeks to reconcile us through his suffering. This constant witness of being nourished, healed and forgiven lies deep within His heart and unfolds in the midst of His Passion. We are privaleged to accompany Him on his journey where he bears witness to who we are and whose we are. In this unfolding drama we are called on mission to be people who nourish, heal and forgive others. 

What draws our attention

 Our attention can easily be swayed by memories of what has happened to us in the past, events that seem to be unfolding before our eyes, or the future that we hope for and pursue. What can elude us is how to be present in the moment without becoming trapped in a particular way of being. This can be so easy when we feel pressured by outside influences that seem to be beyond our control. There is the illusion that the urgent takes priority over the important, and we find ourselves overwhelmed. As we see Lent drawing to a close, this allows us to reevaluate what, or rather who, gives direction and purpose to our lives.

This means that we need to examine the past not to relive it but rather learn from how it has formed us into the person we are today. There can often be the temptation to wonder what would have happened if we had made different choices and how our lives may have unfolded. This pondering can produce a whole mixture of emotions, thoughts and memories. Yet, as Isaiah notes, learning to discover what sustains us and brings us life is important. This allows us to notice how we see the maps we have travelled and how we have arrived at who we are today.

At the moment, we can become aware of our own shortcomings. This can cause us to feel exposed and vulnerable when people notice our weaknesses and behaviour. This fear of being exposed to the opinion of others can cause us to withdraw from public view. The guilt and shame that can often hang over us like a dark cloud need to be viewed with the eyes of Jesus. He sees to the heart of our lives and our need for healing. He sees that each person needs to encounter the person of Jesus, who does not condemn us. In the sacrament of penance, we discover a God who can walk with us even when we feel heavily burdened.

This victory over sin and death helps us discover that Jesus does not abandon us to our own devices. He encourages us to keep pursuing the prize of eternal life. This is about looking towards a distant future and running with Jesus. We are called to discover God's pleasure when we notice the wind blowing through our hair. God encounters us daily in ways that nourish us and sustain us with hope. 

Being an Ambassador for Christ

 This is at the heart of our Lenten journey, and we seek to continue proclaiming God's work. This is the work of reconciliation, where we seek not to identify our faults but rather the desire to be reconciled with God. This is contained within the proclamation of St Paul to the Corinthians, where he states, "For our sake God made the sinless one into sin, so that in him we might become the goodness of God (2 Corinthians 5.21). " This statement deserves to broaden our understanding of the radical nature of the incarnation. God seeks to transform our inner nature from an addiction to sin into a life that proclaims the goodness of God.

In the parable of the prodigal son, we discover a God who seeks us out even when we become distracted from the central mission of our life or become resistant to a life-giving relationship with God. He confronts both of his sons' ability to distance themselves from God. Both seek to inherit the goodness of God's creation for their own benefit. The younger son aims to take possession of this goodness to support him in his own lifestyle that distances him from God by indulging in behaviours that focus solely on his own pleasure. The older son seeks to take possession of the goodness of God by keeping the rules, but centres on what he is doing rather than the relationship with the Father. Yet we notice that God does not judge either of them but seeks to go out to meet them along the way. God provides and invitation to the feast of reconciliation. 

In our Eucharist, we discover bread for the journey. God will provide what is necessary to draw us into a life-giving relationship. At the heart of our journey, we are called to be reconciled, healed and nourished by God. When we adopt this sacramental way of life, we discover a God who meets and welcomes us home. God seeks to liberate us from the culture of death that focuses solely on our own needs. God presents a culture of life that proclaims the goodness of God to the whole of creation.

Where is our promised land?

 As we enter the midpoint of Lent, our minds and hearts can start to focus on what happens at Easter. A longing that yearns for something to celebrate in the desert arises within us. These noon-day devils can cause us to lose focus and wonder what is over the horizon, just out of reach. St. Paul reflects on this in the letter to the Corinthians when he noticed that our thirst and hunger can make us consume things that will not lead to our overall spiritual health. In particular, he warns about the spirit that complains about not being satisfied with the good things that God provides. 

In the burning bush, Moses starts to recognise that he is standing on holy ground. He encounters God in a new and unexpected way. This revelation is not solely for his good but also to help others journey with him. Similarly, Lent is never just about our own needs but how we accompany each other towards a future that can not be possessed, but that frees us to trust God more deeply.

This calls us to allow us to draw from the waters of life that are not simply to be refreshed for ourselves but to produce good fruit born by the spirit. As we enter into this midway point, let us encourage each other to seek God, who accompanies us even when we face the greatest challenges or the driest parts of our lives.

Knowing the unknown

 Half of our life is learning how to live and adapt to the vagaries of life. The second half of life is unlearning what we believe we already know. This can be deeply challenging because there is an inner desire to be authentic and genuine in how we interact with the world, God, and ourselves. Yet, as we grow older, we start to notice our inconsistencies, incompleteness and half-heartedness. There can be a longing to discover what will make us whole and holy.

In the Mountain of the Transfiguration, this story plays out with Jesus accompanied by Peter, James and John. Just at the point where Jesus encounters Moses and Elijah, it is as though Peter finally grasps who Jesus is as the fulfilment of the Law and the Prophets. He gains an inner insight that wants to capture the moment by building three tents. He wants to be able to return to this truth that helps him discover that the divine life seeks to engage with our humanity. Yet, at the very moment of realisation, the disciples are covered by a dark cloud that hinders their vision and all their senses. They are deeply afraid that they can no longer see or touch Jesus. All they hear is the voice of God echoing the words spoken at the Baptism in the Jordan, "This is my beloved Son. Listen to Him."

This is often how we enter into Lent, where we are called to enter into the cloud of unknowing, where Jesus is obscured from us so that we can clearly hear his voice free from attachments. This can disturb us to be known even in our darkest nights when we surrender everything to God. Our listening transforms us and allows us to notice how we are changed from the inside out. It allows us to conform to Christ, who fills the spaces that make us more fully human and alive.

A long loving look at the real

 As we enter into Lent, we can become aware of what distracts us from living the Christian life. In our prayer, fasting and almsgiving, we can notice how we can seek to control external events, situations and things that influence our lives. This attention can easily consume our time, resources, and efforts to pursue outcomes that do not nurture us or feed others. They appear like real phantoms in the night but disappear like a morning mist. These disturbing experiences can both frighten, perplex and bewilder us as we seek to focus on what will bring us into a loving encounter with God.

What we notice is that there are three possible distractions in daily life. The first is trying to turn something tangible into a different substance. When we see ourselves hungering for something that will sustain us in life, we can seek to manipulate people, situations or experiences into a shape that fills our own appetite. This can rob us of noticing how to be present to the goodness of their natural way of being. Thus, bread is bread, and rocks are rocks. Each has its purpose but cannot act as a substitute for the other. This calls us to work with what is to hand rather than wishing it was somehow different.

In a similar way, we can notice how our time can be focused on activities that rob us of serenity and peace. They become all-encompassing and become our sole endeavour in life. They seek to take a life of their own and take on a personality of their own. They can take us away from relationships that sustain us and rob us of the joy of celebrating the life entrusted to us. We can start to become driven rather than guided, tending to worship our work rather than being thankful for how we can cooperate with God's creative plan. 

Lastly, we can notice how we can take unnecessary risks to test out whether God truly loves us. Rather than asking for help, we can plunge into activity. There can be a headlong pursuit of seeking our own ends rather than seeking what will enable us to become who we are called to be. Often, there is an impatience with God that wants to make things happen rather than allowing things to unfold.

As we enter into this season, let us take a long, loving look at the real and notice how God guides our daily lives. We want to be thankful for the situations and people entrusted to our care. We must be open to what brings life and aware of a God who walks close by our side.

Praise no one before he speaks

 We are often influenced by the words of another, not only to see what rings true to us but also what we are called to reflect on. In recent times, we have noticed how our responses to one another can be shaped by instant communication. There is a tendency to hear but not listen to the voice of another. Unfortunately, in an increasingly opinionated world, we only have to speak louder or more frequently to be heard. The trend is played out not only in the regular news cycle but also in applying those opinions that can influence and alter the lives of others. We often find people being labelled or alienated from us due to our viewpoints not being mirrored back to us.

The danger to ourselves and our community is that we become shaped by the instant unreflective response. We read or hear something and instantly notice a reaction inside ourselves that demands to be heard. Yet, when this happens, we must set aside time for prayer. This is the first time we have noticed our internal response, which may have been angered, saddened, or disappointed. This is not to stew on the feeling or reaction but rather to befriend it. This befriending of our internal response helps us to know what may be masked within us. By owning how we react, we can then have an honest heart-to-heart engagement with God to discover how we become a people of thanksgiving. This allows us time to consider the appropriate response and how we may invest in resolving a particular dilemma. It gives us room to open to changes in approach that aid others and myself to grow in a communal spirit that seeks the good of the whole body.

As Thomas Merton notes in "Thoughts into Solitude, p33, "To be grateful is to recognise the Love of God in everything. He has given us-and He has given us everything. Every breath we draw is a gift of His love; every moment of existence is a grace, for it brings with it immense graces from Him. Gratitude, therefore, takes nothing for granted, is never unresponsive, and is constantly awaiting new wonder and praise of the goodness of God. For the grateful man knows that God is good, not by hearsay but by experience." This changes how we see ourselves and others. Our gratitude emerges from a place that does not just plaster over the cracks of our own failures but from a generosity that seeks the good of each person, especially with the person from whom we are most easily estranged. 

Turn the other cheek

 The Gospel goes to the heart of the matter. Does God love us even when we do not behave lovingly. It appears on a daily basis that examples of people who cannot tolerate the life of another are thrown up to us. They go to war with them either in their own hearts or the concrete reality of daily life. It appears that hatred can become parasitical when ingested into our bodies. This parasite can take root and wants to be fed to be kept alive. Like any parasite, hatred can take a firm hold on us, and we can find recipes that stew within us. They can spew forth antagonism either in words or actions that seek to destroy the other. They can easily pass from the host to another person so easily that it is hard to heal the hurt they cause.

Yet Jesus stands in the midst of these conflicting thoughts, feelings and actions. He draws attention to the reality that it is only through love that the life of another can be transformed. This is actually at the heart of the incarnation when the Trinity ponders how humanity can be redeemed from the violence of sin. We discover that God does not stand idly by watching our own destructive instincts but intervenes to proclaim a different way of being. Jesus says, "Be compassionate as your Father is compassionate. Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned yourselves; pardon, and you will be pardoned. Give, and there will be gifts for you; a full measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over, will be poured into your lap because the amount you measure out is the amount you will be given back."

This is contrary to what we read on a daily basis, which feeds on conflict and hatred. The magnification of this can be seen to be multiplied through social media, where we see people seek to use power, control and opinion to shape our response to issues of the day. The separation between persons grows greater when we cannot meet people face to face. Trading barbs over the internet or through the letter pages in newspapers only adds fuel to the flames. It isolates us into our own thought bubbles, and we lose the ability to read the other. We also lose the capacity to pay close attention to our own internal world and our capacity to empathise with the life of another. I believe our prayer can be founded on how we are called to be present in our existing reality with wit and humour. When we hold ourselves lightly, God, we are no longer just drowning in a sea of information, but we are formed in God's image and likeness. This is the path of transformation where we do not throw up our hands saying thus is the world, but thus do we make the world.

Where do we sink our roots?

 One of the miracles we witness in Australia is the desert flowers that bloom following heavy rains that filter inland. This spectacular ray of life not only emerges from what appears to be a dead and barren landscape but also attracts many birds to the middle of the desert. They can sense life instead of blooming in the middle of a wilderness. There is a fresh sense of hope that not only delights the eye but lifts the spirit.

This new life almost occurs in contradiction to what we believe there is only death. It helps us to experience a renewal of life that engenders faith. These fruits help us imagine the earth witnessing a deeper life within. They cause us to discover how this new life bears witness to the creative power of God present in our world.

The beatitudes presented by Luke bear witness to how new life can bloom where there seem to be only tears, hunger and poverty. They help us to discover how, in our deepest human need, God can accompany us with a charity that is more than skin deep. This helps us to know that it is at times when we are most deeply challenged, or our resources are stretched to the limit that we can trust in a God who will not abandon us. At times when we are comfortable, we tend to rely on our resources and credit ourselves for our own success. It is not that we are called to welcome hard times but to discover how we need to sink the roots of our faith deep into the earth, anticipating the saving rains so that we are not overwhelmed.

Real Life not Infotainment

 As we witness the scene unfolding with the dialogue between Jesus and Peter, we are struck by the seeming contradictions. Fishermen usually mend their nets during the day to fish by night. They are used to the hard work that goes along with an unsuccessful night of fishing. Lastly, it takes a person who is not a fisherman to tell them when they should go out and fish. It is these contradictions that can often preoccupy us in our daily tasks. We become used to the routine of daily life even when there do not seem to be any rewards at the end of the day. We can seem to go through the motions, but nothing gains traction.

As the Gospel unfolds, Jesus seeks to make us into people who are willing to go fishing in waters that are familiar to us. There can be a natural resistance that points out the fact that we have tried hard to bring in a catch but have not caught anything. In our disappointment, we can become despondent, wondering if we have done something wrong or whether it is worth the effort. Yet this is where Jesus steps into the scene to put fresh heart into us and a new vision or way of seeing.

I feel this is important because we can often focus totally on our work rather than what engages us in the work. As people who are called to pray, we discover that this is about being present to God in the midst of our daily lives. This is not about the quantity or length of our prayers but rather that we become present to God as ourselves. We seek to settle our minds, hearts and bodies into silence. It is from this silence that we can start to live as people who witness a life that connects us together. We can act in a way that draws others into God's creative plan. This is not by just being observers of life watching a reality show on television but an engagement with real people in real-time.

Presentation and the year of Hope

 In the Presentation, we notice how the old meets the new. Mary and Joseph bring the child Jesus to the temple for ritual cleansing of Mary and his presentation to the Lord as the firstborn in accord with the Mosaic Law. This consecration to the Lord recognises the deep longing in our hearts to be focused on God with all our heart, mind and body. This is not just an abstract ritual but a genuine desire to discover the light of Christ shining amid our assembly.

We see this seed planted especially in those consecrated to the religious way of life. In renewing their vows of poverty, obedience and chastity, they echo the words of Simeon, who longs to see the face of God. While they may perform many good works, the relational aspect of their lives witnesses to a life that is not their own. They are inspired by the Holy Spirit to be pilgrims of hope in our modern age. 

In our own lives, we, too, are called to witness the hope manifested in the Presentation. We are called to be witnesses to Christ with our whole life. We are gifted with the spirit to live for Christ in our baptism. We become a people who are consecrated to become more like Christ and to focus on how we live that out with our whole heart, mind and body. We are called to become wholistic so that our call to holiness is not just an achievement of our own but points to God. 

How do we fill our jars!

When I undertook the Ignatian exercises, I was called to reflect on the scene from the wedding in Cana. I recall that I came to Jesus with a long list of complaints saying that I did not have to fill six jars but over 37 jars with water. As soon as I finished filling the last one, the others were exhausted from their contents. I remember staying with this prayer at the time and even now. We seek to fill many jars with our natural gifts and are left feeling spent that there are never enough hours in the day to achieve what we desire. The focus is on ourselves and the demands that are placed upon us. We wrestle with the fact that there are only 24 hours each day and seven days a week. Where will I find the time to be all I want?

As I stayed with this scene, I was reminded that I had only been asked to fill six jars with water. Also, it was not my actions that turned the water into wine but the graceful presence of Jesus. This experience can become a sobering insight when we believe our salvation is achieved through effort and hard work. Sometimes, we have to realise that we are called to be people who cooperate with the Holy Spirit through the gifts we have to share. We are called to grow in a partnership with God and each other. Our spirituality grows through a relationship of mutuality that does not seek to change the world into our image and likeness but allows us to rejoice in God's creative plan.

Thus, what do I feel God is prompting us in our current age? The first is six days for work and one day for rest. Each day brings challenges, and we are called to fill our jars with the natural gifts and talents entrusted to us. It is also important to realise that by surrendering ourselves to God's grace, Jesus turns the water into wine. We enjoy not just any wine but the finest wine. So when we reach the end of the day, we can look back with thanksgiving for how we noticed God's graced presence that day. Then, on Sunday, it allows us to become present to a God who can rest with us and rejoice.