We approach the sacred texts today by reminding ourselves that Jesus is the face of God made visible, the wisdom of God revealed and the One who daily challenges the quality of our discipleship.
St. Paul, in today's reading from Galatians, summarizes for us: "May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." With the urgency and detachment of the 72, we go forth daily, bearing the good news of Christ. Then, as St. Paul says, we will be "a new creation."
One day one of our sisters told me she wondered whether people listened to one another in the participatory prayer of the faithful. She wished she could test if they were really praying together instead of going through the motions, and admitted her ongoing temptation to use a sweetly pious voice and softly intone the request: "Loving God, let this holy roof with all its heavy beams fall in on us at this moment." Then, slightly louder, "For this, let us pray to the Lord."
Have you ever suffered for your faith? Has any harm come to you because you believe in Jesus?
What is expected of us as we watch and work for the realization of God's reign among us? What should we be doing in this seemingly endless interim between the appearances of Jesus?
Unlike catechisms, Scripture frequently offers us a choice. Counter to popular opinion, the same theology doesn't run from Genesis 1 to Revelation 22. There are as many unique ways of looking at God in Scripture as there are biblical authors. Those who originally collected our sacred writings and eventually put them in the format we have today simply presumed we'd take our pick.
"Lord, Teach us to pray." Did the disciple who made that request have any clue about the intimacy of asking someone how he prays? Our prayer exposes the heart of our relationship with God: who we think God is and how we stand in God's presence.
Sometimes I think that the TV show "Blue Bloods" is the best PR the U.S. Catholic church could ask for. In the midst of crime and court drama we get the everyday life of the Reagan family, struggling to do what is right in a world that doesn't lean that way -- and they argue it all out at the dinner table after they say grace.
It is one thing to know something; it is entirely another thing to act on that knowledge. Indeed, it is a great feat of will to go from knowing to doing. Why?
When I attended high school in St. Agatha, Maine, I was privileged to be taught by Sr. Mary Antoinette, a Daughter of Wisdom who had been a dedicated missionary in Malawi. While she was an excellent teacher and very devoted to her students, it was clear that she felt a deep longing to return to Africa.