Memorial of Saint John Chrysostom, Bishop and Doctor of the Church






He stepped forward and touched the coffin; at this the bearers halted, and he said, ”Young man, I tell you, arise!” The dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother.





The Gospel passage for today takes place soon after yesterday’s reading, when Jesus healed the slave of a centurion. Jesus drew near the gate of the city as a man who had died was being carried out. A large crowd followed the mother of the young man, and Jesus stepped forward and touched the coffin. Why is it that Jesus touched the open coffin, or bier, and not the man himself? On Jesus’ command, the man sat up at once and began to speak. Then the crowd was overcome by fear and glorified God, exclaiming, “A great prophet has arisen in our midst,” and “God has visited his people.”





God, how is it that Jesus needed only to touch the coffin for the dead man to rise? Help me understand what in some ways seems obvious. Just as you healed the slave of the centurion from a distance, you raise the man from the dead by touching only his coffin. You have in your hands the things that represent death and life and death itself. The function and symbolism of the coffin is shattered, the terror of the crucifix becomes a symbol of salvation and resurrection, and death itself returns to dust while we rise with Christ to new life.





A few simple thoughts: death does not have the last word; the Word incarnate, the risen Christ, has the last word. Life is present always in returning to God, in raising a hand toward him. So good is God that he never tires of me and is ready to have me in his presence whether I am coming or going, aloof on some human mission or desperate for his hand to touch what is dead and be brought to new life. Be with me, Lord; whether I stand in light or in shadow, stay with me today.





Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.





Readings


Monday of the Twenty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time






When Jesus heard this he was amazed at him and, turning, said to the crowd following him, "I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such faith." When the messengers returned to the house, they found the slave in good health.





The Gospel reading and first reading for today contain familiar words that are heard at Mass: from Paul, “This is my Body that is for you”; and from Luke, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof.“ In a way, the readings are stories of unity and division. Saint Paul tells us how the early church had divisions in it in the way they practiced the Eucharist, or, as he calls it, the Last supper. His letter to the members of that community recalls Jesus’ institution of the Eucharist. In the Gospel passage, the Roman centurion asks for Jesus to come and save the life of his slave. The elders among the Jewish community in Capernaum tell Jesus that he deserves this “for he loves our nation and he built the synagogue for us." This depiction of unity between a Roman soldier and the Jewish people contrasts with the inner division Saint Paul describes. Today I am certain the choice to foster division or unity will present itself to me in various ways. How will I respond?





How is it possible that among the Romans who occupied Jerusalem and brought Jesus to his crucifixion there were those who supported and brought unity to the Jewish people and the practice of their faith? In my own life, God, help me understand the words and actions of mine that create either unity or division. What is at stake is something great—whether I share the breaking of the Eucharistic bread to bring Christ present or whether I abandon or forget it. There is more to this than I understand.





Lord, I feel the weight of the day, the weight of the week on my shoulders. I know it’s never as bad as it seems. Be present with me today as I remember you in the Eucharist and ask for your help to know and do your will, whether that brings unity or division.





Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.





Readings


Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time






Jesus said to the scribes and Pharisees, “A man had two sons, and the younger son said to his father, ‘Father give me the share of your estate that should come to me.’ So the father divided the property between them. After a few days, the younger son collected all his belongings and set off to a distant country where he squandered his inheritance on a life of dissipation. When he had freely spent everything, a severe famine struck that country, and he found himself in dire need.”





In this Sunday’s Gospel reading, Jesus tells three parables to the scribes and Pharisees after they complained to him, saying, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” First, he tells them about the lost sheep, where the shepherd leaves the ninety-nine to go off in search of the one lost one. Next, he tells about the woman who lights a lamp in her dark room until she finds a lost coin. In both parables, there is rejoicing over what is lost. Likewise, there is rejoicing in the third parable, the Prodigal Son. “But now we must celebrate and rejoice,” the father says to his son in the parable, “because your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.” In each parable, Jesus relates to the scribes and Pharisees, and by extension to every person, the joy of bringing back to himself all who are lost to sin. What strikes me in the third parable is how the father goes out to both of his sons, the prodigal son returning and the faithful but jealous son on seeing the feast prepared for his brother’s return.





You come after me, Lord. You come out to meet me and see me, as you did the prodigal son, from a long way off. And when I have been faithful to you but look for spiritual rewards or am jealous of attention that others receive and refuse to come back to you. You come out and plead with me, saying, “My son, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours.”





Lord, I know your love is unconditional and wildly extravagant. I know you love me and forgive me. Let me come to you today in the Eucharist and watch for me to come to you from a long way off. Help me call to mind any sin that separates me from you so that I am able to receive your forgiveness when I come to you in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Teach me to rejoice as much in finding you when I have been lost as I do when you come out to find me. Help me learn to receive your love and give it away, to give away your love and receive it, and on and on.





Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.





Readings


Saturday of the Twenty-Third Week in Ordinary Time






Jesus said to his disciples: “Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ but not do what I command? I will show you what someone is like who comes to me, listens to my words, and acts on them. That one is like a man building a house, who dug deeply and laid the foundation on rock; when the flood came, the river burst against that house but could not shake it because it had been well built. But the one who listens and does not act is like a person who built a house on the ground without a foundation. When the river burst against it, it collapsed at once and was completely destroyed.”





Jesus presents two types of people in today’s Gospel reading in two separate parables: first, the good tree that bears good fruit and the rotten tree that bears rotten fruit; second, the one builds a house on a foundation of rock and the one builds a house without a foundation. These opposites are exaggerations of life as it is lived, or as one moves through different moments of life. Jesus exaggerates for the sake of making clear that I should not only call out to him in prayer but hear and do his will. However, the exaggerations are at times a direct reflection of who or what I turn to when life’s storms come.





Lord, help me understand that no one but the Son of God could claim the truth that if life is not based on you during these times, destruction will come. This is you speaking to me as the Second Person of the Trinity, the one who sits at the right hand of the Father. You know me, and you know that there are times I call out to you, “Lord, Lord” but fail to do what you command. Help me understand how to remain in you through prayer, through your word, and through the Eucharist and other sacraments. As Saint Paul says in the first reading, this unity is the cup of blessing that we bless, participation in the Blood of Christ; the bread that we break, participation in the Body of Christ.





Lord, keep me in your care today. When the river bursts, I don’t want to come to you out of urgency and desperation and cry, Lord, Lord. Instead, let me love you by hearing your word and doing your will. But whatever anguish I face today, let me come to you first and ask for help as I speak your name. In either case, at ease in the day or facing trials, let me come to you. Be the foundation of my day; be in me. Holy Spirit, guide my words and actions.





Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.





Readings