Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross

Jesus said to Nicodemus: “No one has gone up to heaven except the one who has come down from heaven, the Son of Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.”

In the first reading, Moses follows the instructions the Lord gave him to save the people by mounting a bronze serpent on a pole. Whoever looked upon it after being bitten lived. In the same way, Jesus says, he was to be lifted up on the cross so that everyone who believes in him will be redeemed and have eternal life. Little deaths surround me daily, and each day I sometimes think about ultimate death. Inasmuch as I am able to look at Christ throughout the day, I can unite these little deaths and the final one to Jesus’ crucifixion and its truth: Jesus saves us from sin and death for eternal life.

God, help me grasp your unconditional love. Time after time throughout salvation history, as in the time of Moses, you were merciful despite your people’s rejection of you. As Saint Paul says, “Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself . . . becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross.” For everyone who believes in the Son of Man, love such as this destroys sin and death.

Lord, how can I begin to understand the mystery of the cross? I ask for the grace today to fix my eyes on Jesus Christ lifted up on the cross. In participation with the crucifixion, I ask that you help me see that to redeem us from sin, this was necessary because, Lord, you are mercy itself. Whatever little sacrifices I have today, show me how to accept rather than shun them and sanctify them for your glory.

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

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