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frmartinshomiliesandreflections · 5 months

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6th December >> Fr. Martin's Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Matthew 15:29-37 for Wednesday, First Week of Advent: ‘They all ate as much as they wanted’.

Wednesday, First Week of Advent

Gospel (Except USA) Matthew 15:29-37 The crowds praised the God of Israel.

Jesus reached the shores of the Sea of Galilee, and he went up into the hills. He sat there, and large crowds came to him bringing the lame, the crippled, the blind, the dumb and many others; these they put down at his feet, and he cured them. The crowds were astonished to see the dumb speaking, the cripples whole again, the lame walking and the blind with their sight, and they praised the God of Israel.

But Jesus called his disciples to him and said, ‘I feel sorry for all these people; they have been with me for three days now and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them off hungry, they might collapse on the way.’ The disciples said to him, ‘Where could we get enough bread in this deserted place to feed such a crowd?’ Jesus said to them, ‘How many loaves have you?’ ‘Seven’ they said ‘and a few small fish.’ Then he instructed the crowd to sit down on the ground, and he took the seven loaves and the fish, and he gave thanks and broke them and handed them to the disciples, who gave them to the crowds. They all ate as much as they wanted, and they collected what was left of the scraps, seven baskets full.

Gospel (USA) Matthew 15:29-37 Jesus heals many and multiplies the bread.

At that time: Jesus walked by the Sea of Galilee, went up on the mountain, and sat down there. Great crowds came to him, having with them the lame, the blind, the deformed, the mute, and many others. They placed them at his feet, and he cured them. The crowds were amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the deformed made whole, the lame walking, and the blind able to see, and they glorified the God of Israel.

Jesus summoned his disciples and said, “My heart is moved with pity for the crowd, for they have been with me now for three days and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them away hungry, for fear they may collapse on the way.” The disciples said to him, “Where could we ever get enough bread in this deserted place to satisfy such a crowd?” Jesus said to them, “How many loaves do you have?” “Seven,” they replied, “and a few fish.” He ordered the crowd to sit down on the ground. Then he took the seven loaves and the fish, gave thanks, broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, who in turn gave them to the crowds. They all ate and were satisfied. They picked up the fragments left over–seven baskets full.

Reflections (6)

(i) Wednesday, First Week of Advent

As families look ahead to Christmas, they begin to think about the Christmas day dinner. Who will be present? How much food do we need to buy? Are there people living alone we could invite? On Christmas day, we value all the more our gathering around a table with others to eat and drink. In the first reading, the prophet Isaiah describes a very special feast. The host is no ordinary human host; it is the Lord. Those who gather are not just the members of one family, but are representatives from all the peoples. Even more striking, it is a banquet at which death is destroyed forever and the tears associated with death are all wiped away. When Jesus spoke of eternal life, he drew on Isaiah’s vision of a banquet of life, declaring that people will come from north, south, east and west to eat in the kingdom of God. Every gathering around a table where people feel welcomed and valued is a small foretaste of this heavenly banquet. In the gospel reading, Jesus hosts a banquet in a deserted place for a large crowd. Even though the resources they offer him are small, seven loaves and a few small fish, he works powerfully through them so that everyone gets to eat as much as they want. Here is a special foretaste of the banquet in the kingdom of God. The prayer and actions of Jesus, thanking God for the food, breaking it into pieces, giving it to the disciples, also anticipates the prayer and actions of Jesus at the last supper, when Jesus gave himself as food and drink to his disciples. The risen Lord does the same at every Eucharist, giving himself to us as bread of life. Our gathering around the table of the Lord at Mass is a powerful foretaste and anticipation of our final gathering at the banquet of eternal life, where our deepest spiritual hunger and thirst will be satisfied.

And/Or

(ii) Wednesday, First Week of Advent

There are two questions asked in this morning’s gospel reading. One is asked by the disciples and the other is asked by Jesus. The question that the disciples ask - ‘Where could we get enough bread in this deserted place to feed such a crowd?’ – is a somewhat despairing question, or, at least, a defeatist question. It is a question that does not really have any hopes of an answer. The question that Jesus asks – ‘How many loaves have you?’ – is a much more focused question. It is a question that already points people in the direction of a solution to the problem they were facing, the problem of how to feed a large crowd in a deserted place. Jesus’ question called forth those seemingly insignificant human resources among the crowd, seven loaves and a few fish, that he could nevertheless work with in a very powerful way. Today’s gospel assures us that Jesus can work powerfully through the little that we possess. If he is to do that, however, we may need to ask the right kinds of questions, not the kinds of questions that leave people feeling that nothing can be done, which was the kind of question the disciples asked. We need to ask hopeful questions, the kind of question Jesus asked, questions that encourage us to look at what we actually have been given, and to trust that the Lord can accomplish far more with those resources that we might imagine.

And/Or

(iii) Wednesday, First Week of Advent

Elevated ground features in both of our readings this morning. In the first reading, the prophet speaks of a mountain where the Lord will be the host at a great banquet. This will be a banquet of rich food and fine wines, where all mourning, sadness and shame will have been removed, and where even death itself will have been destroyed. Here is a vision which lifts us beyond the world as we know it towards another world where all is as God wants it to be. In the gospel reading, Jesus goes up into the hills and large crowds go up the hills after him. There in the hills of Galilee, Jesus gives speech to the dumb, mobility to the lame, sight to the blind. He goes on to feed the hungry with very limited resources. He feeds them so well that all ate as much as they wanted, and, even then, there were seven baskets full left over. The vision of Isaiah in the first reading becomes something of a reality in the gospel reading. Both readings speak to us of a God who wants us to have life and to have it to the full. It was Saint Irenaeus who said that the glory of God is the human person fully alive. In the gospel reading, the Lord needed others to bring the sick to him; he needed the disciples to help him feed the crowd. He continues to need us if his life-giving work is to get done. Advent calls on all of us to be instruments of the Lord’s life-giving and healing presence in the world. In Advent we pray, ‘Come Lord Jesus’. We also offer ourselves as channels for the Lord’s coming.

And/Or

(iv) Wednesday, First Week of Advent

This morning’s first reading from Isaiah is often chosen as the first reading for a funeral Mass. It is a vision of a great feast on a mountain at which the Lord is host and from which all mourning and death have been banished forever. It is truly a feast of life. It is a vision which anticipates much of what we find in the gospels. Jesus often spoke of the kingdom of heaven, the kingdom of God’s life, as a great feast to which people from north, south, east and west would come. In this morning’s gospel reading Jesus provides a feast of life in the wilderness. It was an unexpected feast because the resources available for the feast were so few, seven loaves and a few small fish. Yet, Jesus worked powerfully through those meagre resources. The evangelist understood that feast as an anticipation of the Eucharist, where again the Lord works powerfully through meagre resources, offering us his body and blood under the simple form of bread and wine. The church has always understood the Eucharist, in turn, as an anticipation of the great banquet of eternal life. The Eucharist, like the banquet of the first reading and of the gospel reading, like the final banquet of God’s kingdom, is a feast of life, and we are sent from the Eucharist to promote life in all its forms.

And/Or

(v) Wednesday, First Week of Advent

In the first part of today’s gospel reading, Jesus heals the broken and the crowds who witness it are astonished at Jesus’ life-giving work and praise God because of it. Jesus appears to be working on his own. Immediately after this time of ministry, Jesus attends to the needs of the crowds. Noticing how hungry they are, he has compassion for them, and sets himself the task of feeding them. However, on this occasion, he doesn’t work alone; he involves his disciples very directly. He shares his concern with the crowds with his disciples; he questions them about the resources of food to be found among the crowds; he involves them directly in feeding the crowds from these resources. Perhaps there is an image here of how the Lord works today. There are times when he engages very directly with people who come to him in their need, as in the first part of the gospel. There are other times when he needs his disciples to minister to people in the way he wants. He needs us to give expression to his own compassion for people, just as he needed the disciples in the gospel reading. Like them, we may feel inadequate before the task the Lord seems to set us, ‘Where could we get enough bread in this deserted place to feed such a crowd?’ Yet, today’s gospel reading shows us that the Lord can work powerfully through what can seem to us to be very inadequate resources. Our equivalent of the seven loaves and the few fish can be enough for the Lord to do his work, if we entrust those resources to him and create space for him to do his life-giving work through them.

And/Or

(vi) Wednesday, First Week of Advent

I am often struck by the question of the disciples in today’s gospel reading, ‘Where could we get enough bread in this deserted place to feed such a crowd?’ Jesus wanted to feed the hungry crowd and didn’t want to send them away. The disciples could see no way of doing this. Their question is a very human one. It is the kind of question we all ask when we find ourselves faced with a situation that seems beyond us. We often encounter situations in life that make us very aware of our limitations. We can easily shrink before such situations and we can be tempted to lose heart and throw in the towel. Yet, where we see problems, the Lord often sees possibilities, provided we do whatever we can do, little as it may seem to us. In today’s gospel reading, Jesus took the few resources the disciples had, seven loaves and a few small fish, and then, with their help, he fed the whole crowd with those resources. It wasn’t a case of everyone getting barely enough. No, ‘they all ate as much as they wanted’. The evangelist, Matthew, is suggesting that we must never underestimate what the Lord can do through our human resources, small as they may seem in our eyes, provided we give generously of them. As Saint Paul knew from his experience, the Lord can work powerfully through our weakness. Indeed, sometimes it is our very weakness, our vulnerability, our inadequacy, that can give the Lord the greatest scope to work through us, provided we trust in him to do so.

Fr. Martin Hogan.

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seekfirst-community · 2 years

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"BY HIS LOVING FORESIGHT, HE ALLOWED THEM TO TASTE FOR A SHORT TIME, THE CONTEMPLATION OF ETERNAL JOY, SO THAT THEY MIGHT BEAR PERSECUTION BRAVELY." (POPE ST LEO THE GREAT).

"Jesus took Peter, John, and James and went up a mountain to pray. While he was praying his face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white. And behold, two men were conversing with him, Moses and Elijah, who appeared in glory and spoke of his exodus that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem.

"Peter and his companions had been overcome by sleep, but becoming fully awake, they saw his glory and the two men standing with him. As they were about to part from him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good that we are here; let us make three tents, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” But he did not know what he was saying.

"While he was still speaking, a cloud came and cast a shadow over them, and they became frightened when they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my chosen Son; listen to him.” After the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. They fell silent and did not at that time tell anyone what they had seen." (Luke 9: 28 - 36).

Saturday 6th August 2022 of the 18th Week of Ordinary is the great Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord.

What is the Transfiguration?

In the presence of Peter, James and John, witnesses chosen by Him, Jesus' face and clothing became dazzling with light. Moses and Elijah were present conversing with Jesus. The voice of the Father was heard testifying "This is My beloved Son. Listen to Him."

Why is the Transfiguration such an important event?

#1 To have 3 eyewitnesses to the testimony of the Father to Jesus as the beloved Son of God.

#2 To confirm the testimony of Moses and Elijah. [the Law and the Prophet].

#3. To show clearly the divinity of Jesus as God.

#4 To reveal the future of mankind. We shall be like Jesus at the Resurrection.

#5 To note the command of the Father to listen to Jesus as the Father's anointed Messenger.

These three witnesses of the Transfiguration: Peter, James and John were to become witnesses to the Resurrection and Ascension of Jesus Christ. They bore witness to these eye witness events with their lives. Our faith as Christians is built on solid foundation and not on "cleverly deviced myths." (2 Peter 1: 16 - 19).

The Transfiguration of Jesus gives us a foretaste of Christ's second coming when the Elect will be transformed and become like Jesus as He appeared in the Transfiguration. The Transfiguration prepares us for the great mystery of our own Resurrection.

Because of the Transfiguration, we see Christ as our hope. We also understand that the victory over death and sin will come via the Cross. The Cross is the Means of Salvation, Redemption, Glorification and Eternal life. This is the gracious and mysterious will of the Father.

"When a soul is abandoned to Me in obedience and in trust, I am free to carry out in her and around her all that I desire to do to satisfy the yearnings of My Heart and for the glory of My Father. Be that soul, abandoned to Me in obedience and in trust, and you will not be disappointed in your hope." (IN SINU JESU page 46).

Daily Bible Verse @ SeekFirstcommunity.com

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seekfirstme · 3 years

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"Then a cloud came, casting a shadow over them; then from the cloud came a voice, “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.” (Mark 9: 7).

Friday 6th August 2021, 18th Week in Ordinary is the great Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord.

What is the Transfiguration?

Why is the Transfiguration such an important event?

#1 To have 3 eyewitnesses to the testimony of the Father to Jesus as the beloved Son of God.

#2 To confirm the testimony of Moses and Elijah. [the Law and the Prophet].

#3. To show clearly the divinity of Jesus as God.

#4 To reveal the future of mankind. We shall be like Jesus at the Resurrection.

#5 To note the command of the Father to listen to Jesus as the Father's anointed Messenger.

Daily Bible Verse @ SeekFirstcommunity.com

0 notes

pamphletstoinspire · 5 years

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Then Sings My Soul: The Power Of Beautiful Worship

The last note of the organ lingered like the cloud incense in the air. I knelt for a quick thanksgiving as parishioners gathered their things and began to leave the pews at the end of the Sunday Mass. Then there was a gentle tap on my shoulder.

“Excuse me,” the woman behind me spoke. “We were just passing through and happened to stop for this Mass.” She paused, and asked in a hushed, awed tone, “I just wondered, is the music here always like this?” I nodded, understanding her meaning completely. The sacred music at our parish’s High Sunday Mass was breathtaking. My fellow worshipper shook her head in amazement. “We have been blessed,” she said emphatically, obviously deeply moved.

At our daughter’s First Holy Communion Mass last Spring, her godparents and their family made the long drive across town to be present for her big day, filing into the pew behind us just as the glorious processional hymn began. As the Mass ended, I turned to embrace her godmother, my friend Anne. Anne had the same look of amazement on her face. “I feel like we’ve just been in heaven,” she whispered to me.

It was true. And appropriately so: “In the earthly liturgy we share in a foretaste of that heavenly liturgy which is celebrated in the Holy City of Jerusalem toward which we journey as pilgrims, where Christ is sitting at the right hand of God, Minister of the Sanctuary and of the true tabernacle. With all the warriors of the heavenly army we sing a hymn of glory to the Lord…” (CCC 1090) and, because in some places this is less obviously so, a good reminder not to take beautiful liturgy for granted. We had joined this parish, St. Thomas the Apostle in Phoenix, years ago for three reasons: truth – sometimes challenging truth – in the homilies, a vibrant community, and not least of all, beauty in its worship.

The celebration of the Eucharist, the center of the Church’s life and the highpoint of its worship, should be given a dignity and a grandeur worthy of the reality it makes present: Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, really and entirely present in our midst, descending to us and simultaneously offering Himself to the Father for us. The God of our salvation is suspended before us in a humble, translucent host, and we fall to our knees in awe and wonder. He has accomplished what we are utterly incapable of. We join our hearts to His in this most powerful sacrifice, all our little sufferings and trials taking on a significance they could never have on their own. It is a staggering thing, really, and it is fitting when the celebration of it elevates our minds and hearts to such realities, disposing us to the grace we are offered, and using all of our senses to lift us above the ordinary and the everyday: smoky incense, beautiful music, clear bells, flickering candles, reverent motions, rich responses. There is something deeply satisfying about it all, and something that not only connects us to heaven but to the wealth of the traditions of our Catholic history. For a brief moment, time blurs into eternity.

Of course, the efficacy of this great Sacrament is not contingent on the beauty of the liturgy. And thank goodness for that. I remind my children – and sometimes, myself – when a Mass is less beautiful or reverent that “Jesus was still there” and there in an undiminished and utterly powerful way. God is not limited by the poverty in our worship. He comes regardless, although sometimes the veil is a little thicker, and our prayer becomes more an act of faith. (However, in extreme circumstances, the misery of the conditions seem to make the mystery that much more beautiful. I think of Fr. Jean Bernard’s account of Mass in the clergy barrack in Dachau, two tables pushed together and covered with a bed sheet for an altar, a cross painted on the wall behind it. He remembered thinking in those grim conditions as He looked at the sliver of Host in his hand: ‘As the One for Whom we are suffering all this comes into our midst, as in their hearts hundreds of priests join their offering with that of the Savior, tears roll down my cheeks. It becomes a single offering that certainly creates new ties between heaven and earth.”)

Ultimately, the beauty of the Mass is not for us at all, though. It’s simply what is due to God. And our experience of it, whether we feel swept up into heaven or still very much mired on earth, is irrelevant – this is the way God has revealed that He is to be worshipped. And we try to do it in a way fitting for Him. He knows well, though, that in so doing we will be sanctified ourselves. It’s a mystery of love that we become transformed more and more into Him with every act of worship. There is a prayer of Fulton Sheen’s which has always touched me deeply. Here is a portion:

“Transubstantiate me so that, like bread which is now your Body and wine which is now your Blood, I, too, may be wholly yours. I do not care if the species remain, or that, like the bread and the wine, I may seem to all earthly eyes the same as before. My station in life, my routine duties, my work, my family– all these are but the species of my life which remain unchanged; but the substance of my life, my soul, my will, my heart, transubstantiate them, transform them wholly into your service so that through me all may know how sweet is the love of Christ!”

Recently, our parish priests made an announcement. Beginning on the Feast of Christ the King, the High Mass each week would be celebrated ‘Ad Orientem,’ that is, with both the priest and the congregation turned in the same direction to face the Lord in the Eucharistic prayer. In the weeks that followed, it seemed to me to slip into practice beautifully and easily. In a parish where beauty had already laid the groundwork for truth in our worship, this ‘orientation’ of the priest toward the Lord is naturally a more truthful expression of what is happening in the Mass. In a letter to the parish, the priests at St. Thomas were careful to explain why:

The external forms of the Church’s prayer matter. We are not angels, but rather spiritual and material beings. What we do with our bodies, the physical environment we are in, the music we use, how we dress are all things that will have an impact on our interior dispositions and movements. Ritual is particularly important because it forms and teaches us on an unconscious level. It stands to reason, then, that when addressing the question of the direction of liturgical prayer, as with any liturgical question, we ought to ask what external forms best express and help us to understand the reality of the Mass and direct our interior actions most faithfully.

The turning of the priest at Mass to face the people cannot be understood as reflecting a change in Liturgical or Eucharistic theology. The primary character of the Mass is not a meal, but a sacrifice. The Eucharistic Prayer is not a closed dialogue between the priest and the people, but rather a prayer offered by the people, through the hands of the priest. And this prayer, as all Christian prayer, is offered to the Father, through the Son, and in the Holy Spirit. These are the realities the Liturgy ought to express and, through its ritual forms and gestures help the people of God understand.

It’s only one Mass a week. But already the attendance has seemed to swell, and I suspected that it would. There is a hunger for truth and beauty in the world, and there is a hunger for truth and beauty in our worship. I will continue happily and gratefully to attend other Masses ‘versus populum,’ that is, with the priest facing the people, and I am determined not to become so focused on the form of the worship that I lose sight of the Object of it – God Himself, who comes as promised no matter which way the priest stands.

Still, I am grateful for holy priests who desire to attune us to the true meaning behind our worship and create an experience of beauty wherein to encounter Truth and Beauty Himself.

Next up, I hope? Altar rails. “If I had the money, I’d put them back in,” our pastor admitted.

Time to pass the collection basket!

Written by: CLAIRE DWYER

#song in worship

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dontsaythreehundred-blog · 7 years

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Russian Fairy Tales (Part 2)

Morozko

Stepmother has a daughter and stepdaughter. The old woman decides to drive the stepdaughter out of the yard and orders her husband to take the girl "in a clear field to the crackling frost." He obeys.

In the clear field Morozko greets the girl. She responds gently. Morozko becomes a pity for the stepdaughter, and he does not freeze it, but gives a dress, a fur coat, a chest of dowry.

The stepmother already celebrates the wake of the stepdaughter and tells the old man to go to the field, bring the girl's body to bury. The old man returns and brings his daughter - a living, elegant, with a dowry! The stepmother orders her daughter to be taken to the same place. Morozko nose comes to look at the guest. Not waiting for the girl "good speeches", he kills her. The old woman expects the daughter to return with wealth, but instead the old man brings only a cold body.

youtube

I strongly advise you to watch this movie. I looked at it as a child, and grew up as a good person, as you see, heh. Seriously, this is a masterpiece.

Khavroshechka

There was a family: mother and father died, only daughter - Khavroshechka and a cow - were left. Aunt Bobyrikha took them to her. Haroshechka worked for her aunt and her daughters - One-Eyed, Double-Eyed and Three-Eyed. One day aunt sent Khavroshechka to graze a cow and asked to weave cloths, which she would not be able to handle in a month. But she was helped by a cow - a girl climbed into one of her ears, and got out into another, the work was all done and she became a beauty. The aunt was very surprised, she asked even more work and sent One-Eyed with Havroshechka. But Khavroshechka put her to sleep, and she climbed the cow in her ear. So my aunt did not recognize anything. The next day she sent Double-Eyes - also nothing. Only for Three-Eyed Havroshechka forgot to put the third eye to sleep. She told her mother everything. They decided to kill the cow. The cow asked Khavroshechka not to eat her meat, but to collect the stones and plant them in the ground. So she did. On that place grew a golden apple tree. The prince passed by, asked the apple to treat. Who will treat him - he will be his wife. Thetetkins did not get their daughters, their apple trees slashed in the face, and they fell into the hands of Havroshechka. The Tsarevich took her to the palace, and the apple tree grew under her window the next

Kolobok

There lived a grandmother and grandfather. And they decided to bake a kolobok, because they had nothing to eat. Scratched on the beetroots, collected a little flour, baked a kolobok and set it on the window to cool.

Grandfather and grandmother did not have time to blink, as the kolobok came to life, jumped out of the window and rolled along the forest path. He met a rabbit who wanted to eat it, but the kolobok ran away from him. Then he met a wolf, also wanted to eat it, but the kolobok also escaped from the wolf. And the bear wanted to eat it, and he left the bear.

A cunning fox met the kolobok , too, decided to eat it, and said to him: "Sing a song to me!". He climbed a song to the nose to sing. And the fox took it and ate it.

Elena The Wise

In one village lived an old woman with her son. His son's name was Ivan, and he was so untalented that he could not do anything, for whatever he took. His old mother lamented about this and dreamed of marrying him on an economic wife.

Once, when the mother and her son ate everything that was in their house, the old woman again began to lament over her unlucky son, and Ivan, meanwhile, was sitting on a mound. An old man passed by and asked to eat. Ivan honestly replied that all the food in their house was over, but he washed the old man in the bath and laid him to sleep on the stove. And in the morning my grandfather promised Ivan that he would not forget his good and would certainly thank him.

The next day Ivan promised his mother that he would get bread and went to the old man. The old man brought him to his hut in a forest village, fed a roast lamb with bread, and sent two breadcries and another ram to Ivan's mother. After talking and knowing that Ivan was not married, his grandfather called his daughter and married her to Ivan.

The daughter of the old man was very clever and called her Elena the Wise. They lived with Ivan well, Ivan's mother became full and satisfied. Grandfather sometimes went into the road, where he collected wisdom and wrote it down in his book of wisdom. Once he brought a magic mirror into which the whole world could be seen.

Soon the grandfather gathered in the next campaign for wisdom, called Ivan and gave him the key to the barn, but he did not allow Elena to try on a dress that hung in the far corner. When the grandfather left, Ivan went to the barn and found there chests with gold and other good, and in the far closet a magical beautiful gown of gems could not resist calling Elena.

Elena liked the dress very much and she persuaded Ivan to give it to him to try on. Wearing a dress and expressing a wish, she turned into a dove and flew away from Ivan. Ivan set out on the road-journey and went in search of Helena the Wise. On the way, he saved a pike and a sparrow from death, who promised to repay him.

Ivan walked a long time and reached the sea. There he met a local resident and learned that Elena the Wise lives in this realm and came to her palace. Around the palace was a palisade, on which the heads of the bridegrooms of Elena were planted, who could not prove to her their wisdom. Ivan met with Elena and she gave him the task to hide so that she could not find him.

At night, Ivan helped the servant Daria to darn the magic dress of Elena the Wise, for which she was very grateful to him. And in the morning Ivan began to hide. At first he hid in a haystack, but Daria from the porch screamed to him that even she could see him, as the dogs gave him away. Then Ivan called the pike, which hid it on the bottom.

However, Elena used her magic items - a mirror and a book of wisdom and found it. For the first time she forgave him and allowed her to hide again. Then Ivan asked the sparrow for help. The sparrow turned Ivan into a grain and hid it in his beak. But Elena the Wise has again found it with the help of the book of wisdom, having broken thus the mirror which could not find Ivan.

And the second time Elena did not execute Ivan, but allowed him to hide. This time, he was helped by Daria, whom he saved from death, sewing a dress. Daria turned Ivan in the air and breathed in, and then breathed out into the book of wisdom and Ivan became a letter. Elena the Wise looked at the book for a long time, but could not understand anything. Then she threw the book on the floor, the letters flew and one of them turned into Ivan.

Then Elena the Wise understood that her husband Ivan was not so untalented, once he could outwit a magic mirror and a book of wisdom. And he again began to live, live and make good. And the next morning their parents came to visit them and were glad for them. And Ivan the untalented and Elena the Wise lived for a long time and happily, and their parents too.

Heck. There is so much text here. Forgive me if something sounds strange.

Vasilissa Mikulishna

On, there is my favorite!

Vasilisa Mikulishna possesses the qualities of an outstanding hero, with intelligence, courage and modesty. She forbids her husband to show off her virtues. But Stavr Godinovich does not listen to his wife - at the feast of Prince Vladimir in Kiev he brags, and falls for bragging in the cellar.

Vladimir orders his wife to be brought to her palace. Having learned about the misfortune, she disguises herself as a Tatar ambassador (the son of the Lahovetz King - in another version) and took name Vasily. However, Zabava Putyatichna immediately realized that this is a disguised woman. Vladimir tries to test the guest to find out whether he is a man or a woman. Vasilisa misleads him, demands Zabava Putyatichna for herself in her wives, and at the wedding feast this Tatar ambassador says that, say, "guslary songwriters are bad," and demands to bring Stavr. Stavr takes with him, leaves and then opens to her husband, after which Vasilisa and Stavr leave for Chernigov (to Lithuania - in another version). On what the epic ends.

I think if this fairy tale was not written at that time, then there would be something about femslash.

Snegurochka (Snow Maiden)

Fairy-tale parents have different views on the upbringing of their daughter. Frost believes that she is better in the woods among birds and animals, but Spring believes that the daughter needs to people. Parents decide to give the girl a house on the outskirts of the village, where the guys do not embarrass her heart. Snow Maiden - already an adult girl - is also asked if she wants to people. She answers, what especially attracts her song of the shepherd Lel. After ordering her to stay away from him, they let her go.

The girl from the outskirts of the suburb was joyed by the girl - Bobyl and Bobylikha. Their hopes to get rich, having favorably given the adoptive daughter in marriage, do not come true, since the Snow Maiden is too cold with the grooms. But once Bobyl let Lel spend the night for money. He tries to seduce the girl, but, not having received from her a kiss, he runs away to the more cheerful girls.

By the way, Snegurochka becomes a cause of discord in many pairs, because girls are jealous of their suitors to a cold beauty. Only Kupava was kind to the Snow Maiden, but until then, when her fiancé, who had already come forward, fell in love with an icy virgin.

Foster parents force the Snow Maiden to accept rich gifts, although she does not want to offend a girlfriend - steal her fiancé. He dares to tell Kupava that he has stopped loving because of her "excessive" passion, which seems to him a foretaste of betrayal of the future. The insulted and abandoned girl tries to drown herself, but Lel saves her.

He is looking for the protection of Kupava from Tsar Berendey, asking whether one can believe an honest word. Of course, the lord responds that only on a part of the human everything keeps on. Then she convicts the deceiver, demands that he be punished.

To reward the traitor and please the sun god (and on the advice of Elena's beautiful wife) Berendey declares battle with Lel for the Snow Maiden's heart. Lel sings so beautifully that she wins. He can kiss the Snow Maiden and, in general, any. And he rejects the cold girl, choosing Kupava.

It is Lel explains to the Snow Maiden that she does not know love, but only pride, jealousy. However, true love will kill the Snow Maiden. And yet, despite the warning of the mother of Spring, the girl is ready to give her life for a moment of true love. As a result, her ex-boyfriend becomes the former Kupava fiancé.

Immensely happy, he leads a new bride to the mountain, so that everyone can meet the holiday of the Sun, he does not believe in her fears. And there the Snow Maiden melts happy. A deceived bridegroom rushes off the hill.

In the last lines it is said that his death should not be sad, because now Jarila is sacrificed.

#russia #russian language #russian literature #russian fairy tales #russian #russian film

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fr-martin-gospel-reflections · 7 years

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15th October - ‘Everything is ready’, Reflection on today’s gospel reading (Mt 22:1-14)

Twenty Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

We sometimes refer light heartedly to the person who makes someone an offer they cannot refuse. We are aware of the paradox in that statement. To make an offer implies leaving people free to take up the offer or not, to accept the invitation or not. An offer or an invitation that cannot be refused is not an offer or an invitation in any true sense of the word.

The parable in today’s gospel reading tells the story of a king who offered an invitation to his son’s wedding feast that was refused by many. In that culture people normally received two invitations to a feast, an initial invitation some time before the event, and a second invitation just as the meal was ready. To refuse the second invitation at the point when the meal was all prepared, having already said yes to the first invitation, would have been a great insult to the host. It is this second invitation that people decline in the parable that we have just heard. Those who had been invited and had accepted the invitation were called to the table just as the food was about to be served and they said ‘no thanks’, some of them in a very violent fashion. The equivalent experience today might be someone who had accepted an invitation to a meal in a friend’s house and then, just ten minutes before the meal is due to start, rings up and says he or she will not be able to come after all. The host might have second thoughts about asking that person around again.

In the parable, the king who invites people to the wedding feast of his son is an image of God who invites people to gather around his Son, Jesus. John the Baptist once referred to himself as the friend of the bridegroom. God invites all of us to become friends of Jesus, the bridegroom, to enter into communion with him, and then to live out our communion with him. This is the great Christian calling, the great invitation that God extends to all men and women. The fact that this calling is expressed in the terms of an invitation to a wedding feast suggests that there is a real celebratory element to this calling. It is a call to joy, the deep-seated joy that comes from knowing that God values us so much that he desperately wants us to be present at his Son’s great feast.

There is joy at the heart of the Christian life. The life, death and resurrection of Jesus give us something to celebrate, even when life is going against us. Jesus’ life, death and resurrection proclaim the good news that God’s mercy is stronger than our sin, that God’s life is stronger than our various experiences of death, that God’s power is stronger than our weakness. We can each say with St. Paul in today’s second reading from his letter to the Philippians, ‘there is nothing I cannot master with the help of the One who gives me strength’. Paul wrote that letter from his prison cell. He had been through great hardship, and he suspected that worse was to come, and, yet, that little letter is full of joy. Even though it was written out of a real Calvary experience, it radiates the light of Easter. We always live and walk in the light of Easter, even in our darkest moments. The Christian calling is always a calling to joyful and hopeful living.

That joyful, hopeful living that God calls us to is not a way of life that leaves us self-satisfied or smug. An authentically joyful and hopeful life will always overflow into service of others. In carrying the joy and hope of the gospel in our hearts, we are moved to bring joy where there is sadness, to bring hope where there is despair, to bring courage to the fearful, companionship to the lonely, acceptance to those who have experienced rejection. This is the significance of the wedding garment that is referred to in the parable of today’s gospel reading. Those who have accepted the king’s invitation to his Son’s wedding feast must dress accordingly, must live accordingly. The king who invites people to his Son’s wedding feast in today’s parable from Matthew’s gospel says to those same people in another parable a little later in Matthew’s gospel: ‘I was hungry and you gave me food… thirsty and you gave me something to drink… a stranger and you welcomed me…sick and you took care of me’. Paul in his prison could say to his beloved Philippians in today’s second reading: ‘It was good of you to share with me in my hardship’. The Philippians supported Paul in his imprisonment, stood by him in his weakness. They knew how to wear their wedding garment.

Each day we are invited to taste the joy and the hope of the gospel for ourselves, and to become messengers of that joy and hope to others. The Eucharist is a foretaste of the great wedding banquet of Christ in the kingdom of heaven to which God invites us. At the Eucharist, we renew our joyful hope, and we commit ourselves afresh to the joyful and hopeful service of others.

Fr Martin Hogan

Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, Ireland

Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ie Join us via our webcam

Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC

Facebook: @SJtBClontarf

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queerprayers · 2 months

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does God love me? will He be okay if I go to him, tired and weary, ready to collapse? what will happen when I do that?

Hello beloved, many months later. I'm answering you today because I want you and everyone reading this (and myself) to know the answer to this. Your questions are questions we all ask, ones that people have gone to God with for at least as long as we have stories of God's people.

Mostly today I have God's words for you (through other people), said and experienced much more deeply than I could write, but I will say what I have in my heart too. And that is that God's love is present even when we cannot feel it. God loves you not just when you are aware of this fact. And however much you question it or tear it apart or run away from it or ignore it or forget it, it is all around us and within us. Also, "God loves you" always feels incomplete to me (although it isn't)--I always want to add, take a moment to see the Trinity as Lover/Beloved/Love, see God as Love and the One who Loves and the One who is Love, because love is a verb and a noun and a state of being, and God loves us because we exist in a world in the palm of his hand. God loves you as a person, yes, please know that, and also: our existence is inseparable from the Love moving through each breath. If grief is love with nowhere to go, God is love with everywhere to go.

"Will he be okay" is such an interesting phrase but I think I know exactly what you mean. The answer is that God holds and experiences and is himself the universe, which has space for everything within you. After creating the world, God rested--holy rest is built in to our experiences. God knows and welcomes our need to rest, even commanded it. He will be more than okay--he will rejoice at your arrival, however much of a prodigal son you are, and your collapse will be into him.

What will happen? I can't promise you won't still be tired. There are so many reasons to be tired, and they won't all disappear. Many of things that most tire me are the things that are the things most worth it--the work of love, of caring about the world, of caring for myself, of putting one foot in front of the other. The evil and pain of the world drains us the more we pay attention to it--and yet we are called to do these tiring things. The more I go to God the more love I have in me and the more that care drains me--and yet. It fills me too. God is a well that will never run dry. I drink and am more satisfied and more thirsty than anything else can make me.

What will happen is you will keep caring. And keep working. And hopefully you will have enough rest to not collapse but if you do, if the world fills you with more weariness than you can stand, the One who holds the world in the palm of his hand has room for that. You will be filled with the hunger and the rest of love. A foretaste of the feast to come, when hunger and thirst will be no more.

Some words of scripture for you--may they be a moment of rest.

God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. (1 John 4:16 NIV)

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:37-39 NIV)

[Elijah] went on a day's journey into the wilderness. He came to a broom bush, sat down under it and prayed that he might die. "I have had enough, LORD," he said. "Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors." Then he lay down under the bush and fell asleep. All at once an angel touched him and said, "Get up and eat." He looked around, and there by his head was some bread baked over hot coals, and a jar of water. He ate and drank and then lay down again. The angel of the LORD came back a second time and touched him and said, "Get up and eat, for the journey is too much for you." So he got up and ate and drank. Strengthened by that food, he traveled forty days and forty nights until he reached Horeb, the mountain of God. There he went into a cave and spent the night. And the word of the LORD came to him: . . . "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by." Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. (1 Kings 19:4-13 NIV)

This is probably my favorite Bible passage. When we collapse in the desert and ask to die, God doesn't make us get up right away. First an angel gives us food and water. And then, God is in the gentle whisper, the quiet breath. Elijah finds his purpose after resting and hears God in the quiet. May it be so for us.

. . . Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well. It was about noon. When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, "Will you give me a drink?" . . . "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life." (John 4:6-7; 13 NIV)

This obviously isn't the full story (which you should definitely read if you're not familiar--this is Jesus talking with a woman Jewish people didn't associate themselves with, already knowing her, revealing himself as the Messiah to her), but I wanted you to hear Jesus tired, asking for a drink of earthly water--and also knowing that what he can give us is more than any well can provide. So, too, with rest. Jesus ate and drank and rested on this earth, while being God. He experienced weariness even though he didn't need to, so he could do it with us--while teaching the bigger picture.

And I leave you with this, which answers your question "what will happen" beautifully:

The LORD your God in your midst, the Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with his love, He will rejoice over you with singing. (Zephaniah 3:17 NKJV)

Go in peace. If you still carry the weariness of this ask, may it be blessed.

<3 Johanna

#asks #i'm letting go of the embarrassment of answering people late and just. answering #even if the original asker doesn't need it anymore someone will #also i used different translations because the zephaniah is translated multiple ways and i wanted one that used 'quiet'#idk hebrew idk which is more faithful to the text but that word brings it to life for me

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queerprayers · 1 year

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So, we all know Lent is forty days, but which forty days? Ash Wednesday to Holy Saturday isn't forty, if you sit down and count. For those who didn't know, this is because Sundays aren't officially days of Lent! There are six Sundays in Lent, counting Palm Sunday, and they regularly interrupt the forty days.

Lenten Sundays were such a confusing thing for me growing up. Worship was somber and simpler, and the prayers/scripture/hymns are all themed around Lent--but we didn't fast! We were in the season of Lent, and our focus was on repentance and forgiveness, but we had come to an oasis in the wilderness. We mourned but we also feasted.

As my mother would explain, "Every Sunday is a little Easter--that's why we worship on Sundays! No matter what season we're in, we find Easter every Sunday. We don't fast on the Lord's day, Johanna, not ever."

I know for some people, Sundays are no different from the other days, and it's accepted that "the forty days of Lent" is an approximation. Although I don't like approximations of liturgically important numbers, I understand this--taking a day off during a solemn season seems like cheating, almost.

My community seemed undisciplined to me as a kid, not able to strictly go without anything for more than a week, making up reasons to feast. My mom wanted dessert, that's all. Now I know that, as Christians, we don't have to make up reasons to feast. I know what my mother meant, now. She couldn't bring herself to fast on the Lord's day, not out of weakness, but out of strength, out of respect. Every Sunday is a little Easter.

I respect those whose little Easters during Lent are spent fasting, literally and metaphorically. I honor those who fall into a rhythm that won't let up until the Easter. I admire the self-discipline that can only be reached by consecutive days of practice. I know that honoring the resurrection includes honoring the death that brought God there--that's why we have Lent.

But for me, self-punishment comes too easily. Lent as a teenager was dark and confusing. I was too practiced at considering death. I named discipline what was torture. The rhythm I yearn for looks different, now.

I've come to understand Lenten Sundays as a slight unveiling, a translucency, a "foretaste of the feast to come," as my liturgy would put it. I am in the desert, fasting (literally or metaphorically), and, for a moment, I am satisfied. Like Elijah, an angel touches my shoulder and gives me what I need, and I can go on longer than I could have imagined with just that small amount of sustenance. Often it makes me hungrier than ever, this foretaste.

Now, the things I add to my practice during Lent I keep, and the bad habits I'm healing from I keep avoiding, but the small pleasures I have gone without are present again on Sundays. Not as a giving in, but a letting in, as an allowing of hope, of celebration in the midst of mourning. No wilderness is forever, and I have to remind myself of that, practically and tangibly. As a Christian, I can't not feast on Sundays.

For those practicing Lent for the first time, or those who have just never thought about it before, make sure you know what Sundays will be for you (or figure it out as you go along, that's okay too)! Happiness in the fast? mourning in the feast? Another day in the holy wilderness? a brief glimpse of hope? a tiny alternation of practice? a bountiful oasis before you return to your journey? Your practice is yours, and your relationship with seasons and Sundays is yours. We all get to Easter differently, from each other and from who we were before. May the road rise to meet you.

Note: Eastern Churches actually do have forty consecutive days, from Clean Monday to Lazarus Saturday. This makes sense. No notes. I never leave y'all out on purpose, I just don't feel I have enough knowledge/experience to meaningfully discuss your liturgical year. Have a blessed Lent, siblings.

<3 Johanna

#a random Lenten Sundays as Liminal Space reflection #and I got to reference my favorite bible story!!#and have another Johanna's Mother anecdote. as a treat #ok to rb #edit: added a sentence to clarify you don't have to decide in advance--sometimes we navigate our practice by practicing

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frmartinshomiliesandreflections · 3 years

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8th January >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Mark 6:34-44 for the 8th January: ‘They all ate as much as they wanted’.

8th January

Gospel (Except)

Mark 6:34-44

The feeding of the five thousand

As Jesus stepped ashore he saw a large crowd; and he took pity on them because they were like sheep without a shepherd, and he set himself to teach them at some length. By now it was getting very late, and his disciples came up to him and said, ‘This is a lonely place and it is getting very late. So send them away, and they can go to the farms and villages round about, to buy themselves something to eat.’ He replied, ‘Give them something to eat yourselves.’ They answered, ‘Are we to go and spend two hundred denarii on bread for them to eat?’ ‘How many loaves have you?’ he asked. ‘Go and see.’ And when they had found out they said, ‘Five, and two fish.’ Then he ordered them to get all the people together in groups on the green grass, and they sat down on the ground in squares of hundreds and fifties. Then he took the five loaves and the two fish, raised his eyes to heaven and said the blessing; then he broke the loaves and handed them to his disciples to distribute among the people. He also shared out the two fish among them all. They all ate as much as they wanted. They collected twelve basketfuls of scraps of bread and pieces of fish. Those who had eaten the loaves numbered five thousand men.

Reflections (7)

(i) 8th January

Today’s first reading expresses very succinctly the deeper meaning of the feast of Christmas which we have been celebrating, ‘God sent into the world his only Son so that we could have life through him’. According to that reading, God sending his Son into the world so that we could have life reveals the wonderful truth that ‘God is love’. It is the simplest and, yet, most profound statement about God in all of the Scriptures, ‘God is love’. Everything else that could be said about God is a commentary on that simple, profound, statement. Out of love, God sent his Son into the world so that we could have life through him. ‘Life’ refers to eternal life, the life of God, which is a life of love, a life over which death has no power, a fullness of life without any of the suffering and sorrow of this earthly life. Although this ‘life’ is our destiny beyond death, God sent his Son into the world so that we could have a foretaste of this eternal life here and now, in the midst of our earthly life. God’s Son, now risen Lord, is a life-giving presence for us all here and now. In the gospel reading, Jesus was a life-giving presence for the large crowd. He was like a shepherd to them, feeding their spirits with his teaching and their bodies with bread and fish. The risen Lord is present in our world today in the same life-giving way. He works to feed the various hungers in our lives, especially our hunger for a love that is unconditional and enduring. He not only wants to feed our various hungers but he also wants to work through us to feed the hunger of others, as he worked through his disciples to feed the hunger of the crowd. The disciples had very few resources, five loaves and two fish, but the Lord worked powerfully through them for the well-being of the large crowd. If we place our resources at the Lord’s disposal, few as they may seem to us, he will work through them in ways that will surprise us.

And/Or

(ii) 8th January

One of the most profound statements ever made about God is to be found in today’s first reading, ‘God is Love’. The reading also states that God showed he was Love by giving us the most precious gift God could give us, his only Son. If God is Love, the godly person is the loving person, the holy person is the giving person, the one who gives generously of himself or herself to others. The most god-like person, in that sense, the most loving person, was, of course, Jesus. In the gospel reading Jesus struggles to get his own disciples to become giving people. They asked Jesus to send the crowd away because the crowd were hungry. In response, Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Give them something to eat yourselves’. Jesus was saying to them, ‘Take some responsibility for these needy people, don’t just wish them away’. He pushed them into doing something for the people, no matter how small. They eventually found five loaves and two fish, very small resources indeed. But with those few resources, Jesus fed the crowd. Jesus was teaching his disciples and us that the willingness to do something, no matter how little, the readiness to give something, no matter how small, can bear rich fruit. The Lord can take our giving, even our little giving, and work powerfully through it. The gospel reading encourages us to be giving people, even when we seem to have little to give and the situation we are facing seems beyond us.

And/Or

(iii) 8th January

This morning’s first reading makes the very simple but very profound statement, ‘God is love’. It goes on to state that ‘God’s love for us was revealed when God sent into the world his only Son so that we could have life through him’. The coming of Jesus into the world is the revelation of God’s love for us. The gospel reading this morning declares that when Jesus saw a large crowd in a deserted place he had compassion on them because they were like sheep without a shepherd. Jesus’ compassion for the crowd was a revelation of God’s love. Jesus gave expression to his compassion for the crowd in two ways, firstly by teaching them at some length, then by feeding them with bread and fish. He fed their spiritual hunger by speaking his word to them and then fed their physical hunger with the small amount of food that the disciples had gathered from the crowd. Both forms of feeding were important to Jesus. As human beings, we need bread, physical food, to live, but we do not live on bread alone. Yes, we have basic physical needs that have to be met, but we also have deeper, spiritual needs that also cry out to be satisfied. Jesus, the revelation of God’s love, always attended to both sets of needs; he came to serve the whole person, body and spirit. He encourages us to serve ourselves and each other in that same complete way that he served and continues to serve us.

And/Or

(iv) 8th January

There is a sharp contrast between the disciples’ reaction to the hungry crowd in a lonely place and Jesus’ reaction. The disciples wanted Jesus to send the crowds away so that they can find food for themselves. Jesus insisted that the disciples take some responsibility for feeding the crowd, ‘Give them something to eat yourselves’. When the disciples resisted this suggestion of Jesus he kept insisting, telling them to find out how much food existed among the crowd. When they found out that there was five loaves and two fish out there, Jesus proceeded to feed the crowd with those few resources. There was no need to send the crowd away after all. There are times when we can be a little like the disciples in the gospel reading. We feel powerless before some situation and we try to walk away from it. However, Jesus in that reading shows us that, no matter how difficult the situation may seem, there is always something we can do, even if it is only a little. We can find the equivalent of the five loaves and the two fish if we look for them. The gospel reading assures us that if we do the little we can do, the Lord will often work powerfully through our efforts, small as they may seem to us. The Lord needs our efforts, even if they seem insignificant in the face of the problem to be resolved. Those efforts, weak as they appear to us, are the raw material through which the Lord can work powerfully, with results that will often surprise us.

And/Or

(v) 8th January

I am always struck in today’s gospel reading by the contrasting responses of Jesus and the disciples to the situation that they found themselves faced with. They were late in the day in a very lonely place with a large crowd of people who had grown hungry. The disciples’ advice to Jesus was ‘send them away... to buy themselves something to eat’. They wanted to move the problem on, in a sense to turn away from it. Jesus however had the opposite response, saying to his disciples, ‘Give them something to eat yourselves’. He was calling on his disciples to take some responsibility for the situation themselves. They resisted, but he kept pushing them, ‘Go and see’. When they came back with a few small resources Jesus showed that he could work powerfully through them, with their help. He gave his disciples food to give to the crowd, and, so, they ended up feeding the crowd they had wanted to send away. The gospel reading suggests that we often have more to contribute to difficult situations than we realize. Rather than throwing our hands in the air in desperation, we need to look at what we can do and then do it. We will often discover that the Lord can then work powerfully through our efforts and resources, limited through they may seem to us at the time.

And/Or

(vi) 8th January

There is a striking difference in the gospel reading between the response of Jesus and the response of his disciples to the phenomenon of a large number of hungry people in a deserted place. Jesus’ disciples only see an insurmountable problem. They want Jesus to send the crowd away and when Jesus suggests to his disciples that they begin to address the problem they respond with a despairing question, ‘Are we to go and spend two hundred denarii on bread for them to eat?’ Jesus’ response to the situation is much more hopeful and energized. Jesus insists that the disciples bring him whatever food is to be found among the crowd. Then having prayed to God in thanksgiving for the food that was brought to him, he somehow managed to satisfy the hunger of everyone present. Perhaps at the root of the different responses of Jesus and the disciples is that the disciples behaved as if they had to deal with the situation on their own. Jesus, however, knew that he was not on his own but that God was with him. That is why he turned in prayer to God, before feeding the crowd with the resources that came to him. Jesus knew that God can work powerfully through what seems weak and inadequate, such as five loaves and two fish, if only we call on God in our need. We can be tempted to respond to difficult situations like the disciples, in a discouraging and even despairing spirit. Jesus, however, invites us to look upon such situations with the eyes of faith, recognizing that God can do more than we could ever imagine, if only we place our resources, small as they may seem, at his disposal.

And/Or

(vii) 8th January

There are times when it can be wise to avoid certain situations that come our way. We sense that we really have no contribution to make that would help matters. There are other times when we can be tempted to avoid what we need to face into. We find an example of that misplaced avoidance in today’s gospel reading. The disciples looked out on the hungry crowd that Jesus had been teaching at some length and they turned to Jesus and said, ‘send them away, so that they can go to the farms and villages round about, to buy themselves something to eat’. However, rather than complying with his disciples’ request, Jesus encouraged them to face into the challenge of providing for this hungry crowd in this lonely place. ‘Give them something to eat yourselves’. When the disciples resisted Jesus’ suggestion, he pressed them further, calling on them to go and see how many loaves could be found among the crowd. Jesus was aware that he could feed this crowd, but he needed the disciples’ help. The disciples discovered that there were five loaves and two fish among the crowd. Jesus had more work for the disciples to do, calling on them to arrange the crowd in groups of hundreds and fifties. Then, through his prayerful communion with God, Jesus managed to feed everyone with the five loaves and two fish, but again with the help of the disciples. He handed the food to the disciples to distribute among the people, and, when the crowd had eaten their fill, the disciples collected the scraps that were left over. There was a lot of work for the disciples to do. Jesus could not have fed the crowd without the work of the disciples, but, to an even greater extent, the disciples could not have fed the crowd without the prayerful presence of Jesus. Perhaps there is an image here of how the Lord continues to work among us today. We are totally dependent on the Lord’s prayerful presence if his work is to get done, but he relies on us as well if his work of serving God’s people is to happen.

Fr. Martin Hogan.

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frmartinshomiliesandreflections · 7 years

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15th Oct >> Fr. Martin's Gospel Reflection on Matthew 22:1-14 for the Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A: ‘Everything is ready’.

Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Matthew 22:1-14

Invite everyone you can to the wedding

Jesus began to speak to the chief priests and elders of the people in parables: ‘The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a feast for his son’s wedding. He sent his servants to call those who had been invited, but they would not come. Next he sent some more servants. “Tell those who have been invited” he said “that I have my banquet all prepared, my oxen and fattened cattle have been slaughtered, everything is ready. Come to the wedding.” But they were not interested: one went off to his farm, another to his business, and the rest seized his servants, maltreated them and killed them. The king was furious. He despatched his troops, destroyed those murderers and burnt their town. Then he said to his servants, “The wedding is ready; but as those who were invited proved to be unworthy, go to the crossroads in the town and invite everyone you can find to the wedding.” So these servants went out on to the roads and collected together everyone they could find, bad and good alike; and the wedding hall was filled with guests. When the king came in to look at the guests he noticed one man who was not wearing a wedding garment, and said to him, “How did you get in here, my friend, without a wedding garment?” And the man was silent. Then the king said to the attendants, “Bind him hand and foot and throw him out into the dark, where there will be weeping and grinding of teeth.” For many are called, but few are chosen.’

Gospel (USA)

Matthew 22:1–14

Invite to the wedding feast whomever you find.

Jesus again in reply spoke to the chief priests and elders of the people in parables, saying, “The kingdom of heaven may be likened to a king who gave a wedding feast for his son. He dispatched his servants to summon the invited guests to the feast, but they refused to come. A second time he sent other servants, saying, ‘Tell those invited: “Behold, I have prepared my banquet, my calves and fattened cattle are killed, and everything is ready; come to the feast.”’ Some ignored the invitation and went away, one to his farm, another to his business. The rest laid hold of his servants, mistreated them, and killed them. The king was enraged and sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. Then he said to his servants, ‘The feast is ready, but those who were invited were not worthy to come. Go out, therefore, into the main roads and invite to the feast whomever you find.’ The servants went out into the streets and gathered all they found, bad and good alike, and the hall was filled with guests. But when the king came in to meet the guests, he saw a man there not dressed in a wedding garment. The king said to him, ‘My friend, how is it that you came in here without a wedding garment?’ But he was reduced to silence. Then the king said to his attendants, ‘Bind his hands and feet, and cast him into the darkness outside, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth.’ Many are invited, but few are chosen.”

Reflections (4)

(i) Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

And/Or

(ii) Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

As many of you know, my own roots are here in Clontarf. My grandparents lived since the 1930s in a small house attached to a bigger house called Beechfield House off Oulton Road. After they died, their two daughters, my two aunts, who never married, lived on there up until 1998. My parents moved into that house in the 1940s after they were married and I was eventually born from that house. Even though I was only two years of age when we moved to a house in Cabra, I came back and forth regularly to visit my grandparents, and then my aunts. I remember playing in a field in front of Beechfield house where Sommerville now stands. I was put in mind of one of those aunts, whose name was Eve, by this morning’s second reading from Paul’s letter to the Philippians. That reading contained what was probably her favourite verse in Scripture, ‘There is nothing I cannot master with the help of the One who gives me strength’. The version of that verse she was familiar with was, ‘I can do all things in him who strengthens me’. Eve used to fall back on that verse when life was a struggle. Paul wrote his letter to the church in Philippi out of his own situation of struggle. He was in prison at the time, and was unsure whether he would ever leave prison alive. The Philippians did their best to support him in prison, even though he was at a distance from them. Paul expresses his appreciation for their support in this morning’s reading, ‘It was good of you to share with me in my hardship’. Yet, he wanted them to know that he had another means of support, the Lord himself. Because the Lord is his support, he can say in that reading, ‘I am ready for anything anywhere: full stomach or empty stomach, poverty or plenty’.

Paul certainly believed that the strength he experienced in his hour of weakness is available to all who believe in the Lord. The same Lord whose presence to Paul in prison gave him great strength, is present is all of us to strengthen us in our own times of struggle. As you are probably aware, Pope Benedict has declared this year to be the year of Paul, running from the feast of Saint Peter and Paul last June, to the feast of Saint Peter and Paul next June. More than any other letter, it is his letter to the Philippians that gives us an insight into Paul’s inner life, his own personal relationship with the Lord. His letter from prison to the Philippians can speak to our own experiences of weakness, to our own particular versions of imprisonment. Paul knew from experience that what he could not do on his own, he could do with the Lord’s help. For him, Jesus was not someone who belonged to the past, but someone who was powerfully alive, here and now. In fact, Paul never met the Jesus who belonged to the past, the historical Jesus. His only meeting with Jesus was with him as risen Lord. That is our only meeting with Jesus too. I should not say ‘only’, because to meet the risen Lord is to meet Jesus in all his power and glory, in all his fullness of life. The risen Lord is as present to us today as he was to Paul in his prison. Paul was just somewhat more aware of the Lord’s presence that we tend to be. Paul wanted the members of the Philippian church to be as aware of the Lord’s presence as he was. That is why, just before this morning’s second reading, he says to them, ‘Rejoice in the Lord always… the Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God’. The Lord is near; I can do all things through him who gives me strength. If we only had Paul’s awareness, what a difference it could make to our lives.

In a way, the gospel reading this morning is about people’s lack of awareness of the Lord’s presence. A king gave a banquet for his son and invited a number of guests. It is not everyday you get an invitation to the wedding of a king’s son! Yet, at the very last minute, when the meal was ready to be served, the guests who had been invited and had agreed to come suddenly made excuses and said they would not be coming after all – they had a farm to go to, business to attend to. Some of them beat up the king’s servants just for good measure. It is hard to imagine a greater lack of awareness. The Lord came knocking on their door and they said, ‘get lost. I said I was coming but I have changed my mind’. Even among the second lot of guests who were invited at the last minute, and who accepted the unexpected invitation, there was at least one who showed a lack of awareness by dressing down in a major way. He didn’t take seriously where he was or whose presence he was in. There is a real contrast between the lack of awareness of the Lord that people display in the gospel reading, and that wonderful awareness of the Lord that Paul gives expression to in the first reading. This morning we look to Paul as the one who shows us what it really means to live in and from the Lord’s presence to us.

And/Or

(iii) Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

We have a lot of weddings in this church. The majority of couples who marry here are not from the parish. They obviously like the church; it does have a certain atmosphere that lends itself to a wedding. One of the most challenging chores for any couple getting married is the invitation list. Who do you invite and who do you not invite? Having decided on the invitation list and having sent out the invitations, firming up on the numbers coming can be a challenge as well. Not every one that is invited replies to the invitation, and not everyone who replies in the positive turns up.

The story Jesus speaks in this morning’s gospel reading is about a wedding, and not just any ordinary wedding, but a royal wedding. It is a king’s son who is getting married. An invitation to a royal wedding is a serious matter. In the culture of the time of Jesus two invitations would normally have been sent out to such a wedding banquet, one when the wedding was still a long way off and the other on the day of the wedding banquet just as the meal was about to be served. In the story it was at the point of the second invitation, when the meal was ready, that those who said ‘yes’ to the first invitation began to make excuses. To say you were not coming to the royal banquet at that late stage when all was ready was, indeed, a great insult to the host. Some of those who said ‘no’ when all was ready not only made lame excuses but maltreated and killed the king’s servants. The king had every right to be furious. Yet, so determined was he to ensure that his banqueting hall would be full, even at this late stage he sent out more servants to bring in total strangers from the crossroads, what the parable refers to as ‘bad and good alike’. These people couldn’t believe their luck.

Things happen in the story world that Jesus creates that do not happen in real life. The story depicts a king who refuses to take ‘no’ for an answer, who keeps searching until he finds people who will say ‘yes’. Jesus is saying something to us about God’s persistence. God is determined that his Son, Jesus, who is often spoken of as bridegroom in the gospels, should have a wedding banquet where there are no empty seats. God is constantly drawing people to his Son; we are constantly being drawn by God to his Son. Even when we seem to show little interest because we have a farm to go to or business to attend or whatever God will keep searching until he finds people who are interested or until we have a change of mind or heart. God does not like empty seats and God’s banqueting hall for his Son is huge; in fact it is limitless; its height and length and depth are beyond calculation. God wants all people to share the table of his Son, to be special guests of his Son, to be in close communion with him. There is nothing selective about God’s guest list; good and bad alike are invited to become friends of the bridegroom. The first reading describes a great banquet which embraces all people and all nations. As we gather around Jesus in response to God’s invitation, we will find ourselves surrounded by all sorts. The church is a funny mix; it is not a gathering of the pure and perfect. It is a gathering of what the parable this morning ‘bad and good alike’, and we should be very slow to decide who are among the good and who are among the bad because there is good and bad in all of us. I am reminded of another parable that Jesus spoke, the parable of the wheat and the weeds. They were both growing together in the one field and the farmer did not allow his servants to start separating them before harvest time for fear they should mistake the wheat for the weed. We are all good and we are all sinners in need of repentance; that is why we begin each Mass by acknowledging our need of God’s mercy.

That is where the last part of the parable comes in, concerning the wedding guest who was not wearing a wedding garment. One of the little rituals that follows immediately after the baptism of a child is the clothing of the child with the baptismal robe. The mother or the godmother is invited to cloth the newly baptized child with the wedding garment as the celebrant says, ‘You have been clothed with Christ. See in this white garment the outward sign of your Christian dignity. With family and friends to help you, bring that dignity unstained into the everlasting life of heaven’. We have been clothed with Christ at baptism; there is an onus on us to retain that clothing as we go through life. Even though, through baptism, we have been invited to the wedding feast of God’s Son, even though we remain on God’s guest list as we go through life, that realization should never leave us complacent. We have to keep dressing appropriately to our honoured status; we have to keep putting on Christ. We are called to keep growing into the person of Christ.

And/Or

(iv) Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

We have all had the experience of receiving an invitation to something. Someone might invite us to join them for coffee some morning. We receive more formal invitations to some happy occasion, like a wedding. Parents know that their children are often invited to parties of other children. Nowadays with the ease of social communication, various invitations can come into our inbox to a variety of talks or events. We often have to sift through the invitations and decide which ones to respond to. If a family member or a close friend has a really significant celebration to which we are invited, we would want to respond.

That ordinary, human experience of receiving invitations is very much at the heart of our faith. When you look at the gospels, Jesus’ primary way of relating to people was to invite them to become his disciples. We often speak of Jesus calling people. We can just as easily speak of him as inviting people. He said to a group of fishermen, ‘Follow me’, or ‘Come and see’. Jesus did not compel people to follow him. He kept inviting. Even as he hung from the cross, he was inviting. When he rose from the dead and went out into the world through the Holy Spirit, he continued to invite. When Jesus’ invitation was rejected, it brought him great sadness. Once he turned to the city of Jerusalem, and lamented, ‘How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing’. ‘You were not willing’. The Lord needs our willingness. There can be no compulsion. He awaits our free and loving response.

That theme of the Lord’s invitation is central to this morning’s readings. In the first reading and the gospel reading there is an invitation to a great feast. There is a wonderful description of a banquet in that first reading, with its rich and juicy food and its fine strained wines, a banquet of life where death has no place. The wedding banquet in the gospel reading sounds just as good. ‘My oxen are fattened, cattle have been slaughtered, everything is ready. Come to the wedding’. This image of the banquet is saying something about the nature of the Lord’s invitation to us. Sitting around a table is more than just sharing food, isn’t it? When we share table with people, at its best at least, it is an experience of intimacy, of friendship, of trust, even on occasion, of reconciliation. The Lord’s daily invitation to us is always an invitation to communion. He invites us into communion with himself and with all those who have received the same invitation from him as we have. His invitation is always a call to grow in our communion both with himself and with the church, other followers of the Lord.

That call to communion with the Lord and with others is there in all three readings this morning, more obviously in the first reading and gospel reading, but also in the second reading. In that letter to the Philippians, Paul is writing from prison. We would normally think of prison as a very isolating experience, and, of course, it is that for very many people today. Yet, it is clear from that very short reading that Paul had a wonderful experience of communion while in prison. He had a very strong sense of his communion with the Lord, which he expresses in that very powerful statement, ‘There is nothing I cannot master with the help of the One who gives me strength’. He clearly also had a very strong sense of his communion with the church while he was in prison. He expresses his gratitude to the church in Philippi for the support they have given him in prison, ‘it was good of you to share with me in my hardships’.

It is that experience of communion with the Lord and with each other that we are all invited into. Yet, as we know, invitations can be refused. In the parable Jesus spoke, people started making excuses at the last minute, just as the meal was ready. ‘I have a farm to go to; I have a business to go to’. The host wasn’t put off! He just went out and invited others who were delighted to come along. The parable suggests that the Lord is not easily put off by human refusal. We can all fail to hear the Lord’s invitation. We get over absorbed by what is very important but is not of ultimate importance and, so, we miss something even more important. This is why, every so often, we just need to step back a little from everything, and allow ourselves to hear again the Lord’s invitation into that great communion with himself and his people. We are about to celebrate the baptism of Luke. It is a special day for him, his family and all of us, because it is the moment when he is formally invited into that special communion with the Lord and with his family, the church.

Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland.

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