Memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows

When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple there whom he loved he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son.” Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother.” And from that hour the disciple took her into his home.

As Jesus is dying on the cross in great pain and suffering, he thinks about his mother and uses some of his lasts breath to see to her care. Why? Because Jesus knew that Mary would be the means of bringing sinners to her son and to his divine mercy. This is not the only place in Scripture where those who love Mary are told to take her into their home. When Joseph learned that Mary was pregnant, he wanted to quietly divorce her. But an angel of the Lord came to him and said, “Do not be afraid to take Mary into your home.” Jesus asks his beloved disciple John to take care of his mother and thus asks any of his beloved children to take Mary into their home.

From the Stabat Mater come these lines:

O sweet Mother! font of love,
Touch my spirit from above,
Make my heart with yours accord.

Make me feel as you have felt;
Make my soul to glow and melt
With the love of Christ, my Lord.

And that is what Mary does best: she hears our prayers from above and melts the stoniest of hearts with love of Christ. And although Joseph was not present at the foot of the cross, I know he must have been present in unity with Jesus and Mary. I want to understand what it means to be in company throughout the day with the Holy Family. I imagine myself walking with Mary and Joseph ahead of me and Jesus behind to lead and guide. Knowing this is no flight of fancy—that Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, are present with me—brings a great sense of peace grounded in ultimate reality and truth. This is the truth of the Gospel, as Saint Paul puts it: “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. . . . For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the one that is to come.”

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

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