Sister Renee Yann, RSM, D.Min, is a writer and speaker on topics of spirituality, mission, and ethical business practice. After twenty years in teaching and social justice ministry, she served for over thirty years in various mission-related roles in Mercy Health System of Southeastern Pennsylvania.
Today, in Mercy, our readings challenge religious and moral hypocrisy.
Paul, in his continuing letter to the Galatians, counsels them about the practice of circumcision. But his counseling is really about freedom in Christ.
In Paul’s time, circumcision had religious significance as a sign of inclusion in the Jewish nation. Some Jewish Christians mistakenly taught that a Gentile must first become a Jew, through the law of circumcision, in order to become a Christian.
Paul condemns this error, reminding the Galatians that the grace given to us in Christ is beyond the Law.
For in Christ Jesus, neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything, but only faith working through love.
In the Gospel, Jesus condemns any religious practice that is empty and just for show.He compares such rituals to cups, whose clean exterior hides a corrupt interior. Jesus says that the remedy to this hidden nastiness is to give alms, to be merciful.
We are all aware of pharisaical behavior within our religious institutions. We have seen disgusting evidence of it in sexual predation among clergy. We see it when exaggerated religious rituals are substituted for sincere, communal worship. We see it when the small, visible mistakes of others are used to hide the gaping faithlessness of the condemner. Sometimes, we are even caught in the judgmental nets these pretenses spin.
When we are confused by such situations, look to the words of Jesus and Paul today:
Look for faith working through love. Look for a generous heart that sees and comforts the poor.
If our “religious” observance results in any form of exclusion, prejudice, condemnation or unforgiveness, we can be sure it is not of God.
Yesterday in Vatican City, St. Oscar Romero was canonized. This holy man was Archbishop of San Salvador from 1977 until his assassination while offering Mass on March 24, 1980. After Archbishop Romero’s death, a twelve-year civil war ensued in El Salvador, killing an estimated 75,000 people.
The Catholic Church in El Salvador, during these years, became deeply involved in protecting the lives and land rights of the poor who were severely oppressed by a militaristic government. This corrupt government engaged the assistance of the United States to suppress the people by interpreting their struggle as “communism”.
For years, the Salvadoran government received US supplied arms and military training at the School of the Americas in Ft. Benning, Georgia.It was someone trained with these arms who martyred St. Oscar Romero – and thousands of his poor, over many years.
Romero was not a politician. He averted confrontation wherever possible. But he could not stand by as thousands of his flock were slaughteredbecause their human rights threatened the status and greed of the powerful.
Sometimes we hear the empty adage that religion should never mix with politics.
St. Oscar Romero is one of hundreds of women and men who became saints because they believed the opposite.
Our faith is irrevocably entwined with the rest of our lives. Our Gospel demands that we embrace and honor the poor, the oppressed and the marginalized. We may not be called to the level of witness that Oscar Romero was. But we, each in our own way, are called to understand issues of justice, and to act as Jesus would.
We are called to challenge our government, as did many activists during these years, when it is blind to its own sins. The USA is still selling arms to oppressive governments, still supporting regimes and practices that ignore human rights. Our voices and our votes need to be informed, clear, and faith-filled. I find Network and excellent source of education for me on these issues:
Please read the lyrics below first, as they are a little difficult to understand. The images in the video are painful to view, but offer testament to the gross injustices the Salvadoran people endured.
There’s a sunny little country south of Mexico Where the winds are gentle and the waters flow But breezes aren’t the only things that blow In El Salvador
If you took the little lady for a moonlight drive Odds are still good you’d come back alive But everyone is innocent until they arrive In El Salvador
If the rebels take a bus on the grand highway The government destroys a village miles away The man on the radio says ‘now we’ll play South of the Border’
And in the morning the natives say, We’re happy you have lived another day Last night a thousand more passed away In El Salvador
There’s a television crew here from ABC Filming Rio Lempe and the refugees Calling murdered children the ‘tragedy’ Of El Salvador
Before the government cameras 20 feet away Another man is asking for continued aid Food and medicine and hand grenades For El Salvador
There’s a thump, a rumble, and the buildings sway A soldier fires the acid spray The public address system starts to play South of the Border
You run for cover and hide your eyes You hear the screams from paradise They’ve fallen further than you realize In El Salvador
Just like Poland is ‘protected’ by her Russian friends The junta is ‘assisted’ by Americans And if 60 million dollars seems too much to spend In El Salvador
They say for half a billion they could do it right Bomb all day, burn all night Until there’s not a living thing upright In El Salvador
They’ll continue training troops in the USA And watch the nuns that got away And teach the military bands to play South of the Border
And kill the people to set them free Who put this price on their liberty? Don’t you think it’s time to leave El Salvador? Songwriters: Jim Wallis / Noel Paul Stookey
Today in Mercy, our readings are both beautiful and poignant.
In our first passage, we drink from Wisdom’s sweet nectar. This book, written about fifty years before Christ’s birth, is the work of an unnamed Jewish poet and scholar. At points, as in today’s segment, the writer assumes the persona of Solomon, speaking in his name.
We know from the Book of Kings, chapter 3, that Solomon, as a young king, led a faithful and righteous life. Because of this, God offered Solomon “whatever you want me to give you.”
Think of the possibilities for this young man, just on the cusp of kingship! Power, wealth, longevity, peace, prosperity, political dominance – all the things we are inclined to covet in this world.
But Solomon prays instead for wisdom, as described in today’s reading:
Beyond health and comeliness I loved her, and I chose to have her rather than the light, because the splendor of her never yields to sleep.
Our Gospel tells of a young man offered an opportunity similar to Solomon’s. Already living a faithful life, he wants to go deeper into God’s heart.
Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said to him,
“You are lacking in one thing. Go, sell what you have, and give to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven;
then come, follow me.”
But this young man, unlike Solomon, cannot accept the invitation to this deep place of love and devotion. Instead, he goes away sad. It makes me sad, too, whenever I read these verses. I always hope that, after a few steps, he turned around and shouted, “Yes! I will do what you ask. I love God that much. Help me!”
Like these young men,we have a deep desire to live within God’s love. But are we walking toward that love or away from it? Most of us don’t say an outright “No” to God’s invitation. Instead, we are distracted, lazy, or just not paying attention to the the whispers of grace.
Let’s pray today’s powerful Psalm 90 to open our minds and hearts to God’s hope for us.
Today, in Mercy, Paul continues opening the minds and hearts of the Galatians to their new Christian identity. It is one inspired and impelled by faith rather than by mere observance of laws.
There are times when all religions, and some of their followers, still struggle with this truth. External observance is sometimes invoked as a measure of holiness or faithfulness. But law will never trump Love.
Just as in any human relationship, we cannot measure love and devotion by external signs. We can send a beloved bushels of flowers, but if our heart is distracted and lukewarm those flowers are a mockery.
Our Gospel tells us that the true measure of our devotion is how responsive we are to God’s Word – how “clothed” we are in Christ. The Psalm today invites us to “glory in God’s Holy Name”. We are to rest our souls in God, the way we might sink our sore body into a warm, healing bath. We are to “clothe” ourselves in the portion of God’s glory inherited through our Baptism.
I absolutely love the picture I’m sharing today. My grand-nephew stands in a stream of refreshing water, totally delighted and free.
We stand in such a fountain of God’s infinite love and grace. May we glory in it, be healed by it, be enlivened by it, be a living blessing because of it.
Music: A precious song by John Nuttall – I Delight in You
Today, in Mercy, we encounter readings that are probably not among anyone’s favorites. In the epistle, Paul is trying to demonstrate to the Galatians how blessed they are to have inherited the promise given to Abraham.
In the Gospel, there is a lot of talk about evil spirits, divided kingdoms, and good old Beelzebub. It’s not really a day when you’ll say, “Gosh, those readings inspired me!”
Is it worth sticking with the daily readings in such a case?I think so.
There is always a string lying among these sacred words that we can tie to our own hearts. For me today, that string is wrapped around the Responsorial Psalm:
I will give thanks to the Lord with all my heart.
Just as the Galatians have inherited God’s promise, so have we. Just as the Kingdom of God has come upon Jesus’ followers, it has come upon us. God’s fidelity remains with us through all the “demons” that might annoy or threaten us. God’s graciousness has already redeemed us for an eternal life beyond their reach.
So let’s have intentionally grateful hearts today. Everything – yes, everything – in our lives is a gift, if we but have the grace to unwrap it with humility, openness and gratitude.
Today, in Mercy, our Gospel gives us three comforting invitations and assurances:
Ask, knock, seek. If you do, you shall receive, be welcomed, find.
That’s nice, isn’t it? But does it really work? I’ve asked for a lot of things I haven’t received. I’ve knocked and sought answers that never came to me. What about you?
Perhaps we’ve been reading the passage with a closed heart.This Gospel may be more remarkable for what it does NOT say than for what it says.
It says ask, not ask FOR something.
It says knock, not BURST IN. It says seek, not seek AFTER something.
The reading is not about getting our particular requests presented before, heard and answered by God. It is not about how to visit a “Santa Claus” God with our wish list and get everything we asked for.
It is, instead, about recognizing our emptiness, and asking God to fill it – in whatever way God wishes.
It is about recognizing that the Spirit lives in a deeper place in our lives – a place that is opened to us only by prayer and trust.
It is about seeking God and God’s desire for us, far beyond any tangible gift.
When we’ve done this kind of asking, knocking and seeking, we have no “answered prayers” to show for it. Instead, we are changed in the way rivers are changed by the rush of melting mountain snows. We are fed, the way trees are fed by the rain disappearing at their roots. We are at peace, the way the deep ocean lies in peace despite any surface storm.
Music: A delightful song from the 60s that will charm you and stick in your head all day. 🤗
Today, in Mercy, Paul and Peter have a big fight – two of the Greats take it to the mat over an issue of inclusivity in the early Church.
To put the episode in a nutshell, Peter had succumbed to political pressure from Jewish Christians to isolate non-Jewish Christians from full participation in the Church. The pressure was rooted in nationalism, religious prejudice and unexamined fear. Peter, in an attempt to manage these forces, made a huge misstep.
Paul, seeing that Peter’s actions would set a dangerous and divisive precedent in the emerging Church, confronted him before the whole community. For a moment in time, these two pillars of Christianity stood on separate shores.
Ultimately, through prayer, respect and discernment, Peter and Paul continued together to shepherd the embryonic Church toward a new reality – one built on, but beyond, the Judaism in which they both had been raised.
The Church, as a living reality, will always be challenged by issues of growth, identity, inclusion and other concerns. But as soon as we define ourselves as anything other than simply Christians, we run the risk of moving to our own “separate shores”.
We are not conservative or liberal Christians. We are not American, or European or Asian Christians. We are not gay or straight, Black or White, male or female, rich or poor Christians.
We are all sisters and brothers in the Gospel of Christ, standing on the same shore with Him, praying to our one Father. May this shared prayer help us to become who we are called to be.
Today, in Mercy, we meet Martha and Mary. These sisters are the personification of the Benedictine motto: Ora et labora: Pray and work – the two essentials that we all struggle to balance in our lives.
They, with their brother Lazarus, are dear friends of Jesus. The scriptures show us that Jesus felt comfortable at their home, and that they loved to have him stay with them.
As all of us do with our closest friends, Jesus understood the lights and shadows of their personalities – and they of his. He knew that Martha was the organizer, the one who planned and worried about the incidentals. Mary was deeply spiritual, but maybe had her head in the clouds a bit when it came to getting things done.
Perhaps these personality differences caused some tensions between the sisters, as they might between us and our family members or close friends. Sometimes these little, unnoticed frictions can suddenly become chasms between us and those we love.
How and why does it happen?
Jesus gives us the answer in this Gospel passage. He hears Martha’s simmering frustration. He calms her, as one might a child – “Martha, Martha…”. We can hear his gentle tone. Jesus tells her that worry and anxiety are signs that we are not spiritually free. He tells her that Mary has focused on the important thing.
This may sound repetitious, but just think about it a while:
It is so important to know what is important.
It is so freeing to agree on what matters with those closest to us. Talking with each other in openness, respect, and unconditional love is the only path to that freedom.
Martha and Mary slipped off that path a bit in this situation. But with Jesus’ help, they righted their relationship.
That’s the best way for us to do it too. Let Jesus show us what is most important through sharing our faith, and even our prayer, with those closest to us. Let him show us where our self-interests, need for control, fears and anxieties are blocking us from love and freedom.
It is the same way that we, like Mary, can strengthen our relationship with God. It is not sufficient for our prayer to consist of incidentals — pretty words and empty practices.
We must sit open-hearted at the feet of Jesus and let him love us, let him change us. Even in the midst of our responsibilities and duties, we must balance “the better part”.
Music: a charming little song by Peg Angell which leaves me with same practical question I always have when reading this passage: who actually did get the dinner ready?😂
Today, in Mercy, our Gospel gives us the parable of the Good Samaritan. It is a story in which we can all find ourselves, maybe changing roles in the changing circumstances of our lives.
Have we ever been the robbers, the bullies, the outlaws who in some way used force or subterfuge to gain their own advantage? We don’t have to be a criminal to do this. We can do it by our prejudices, our preferential treatment, our secrets and our cliques. We can do it by our uninformed or willful choices which deprive others of their needs and rights.
Have we ever been the Levite, the one who claims a special religious place by family heritage? Have we ever, like the Levite in the parable, bypassed someone because of her religion or ethnic origins – because she isn’t “like us”?
Have we ever been this pathetic priest who so completely misunderstands the role of minister – who ignores God’s suffering creature for fear of some imagined contamination?
Have we ever been the victim, the one set upon by the meanness of others, the one unable to heal himself from injury? Has the memory made us more like the Samaritan or like the robbers once we were healed?
And finally, have we ever been the Samaritan? Do we even want to be? Or do we think him foolish to have given his own time and treasure for a stranger?
This parable is a study in differences and how we respond to them. Some use differences to separate rather than enrich their world. They fail to understand that we all belong to each other and will live forever as one family in heaven. If we don’t learn to do it in this life, we won’t be part of it in the life to come.
Realizing this may change how we might have responded on that ancient road – or the road right now where we’re all just walking each other home.
Today, in Mercy, our Psalm for the day offers us a tender blessing.One of the most striking phrases of the blessing is “May you see your children’s children.”
Indeed, how grateful we are for the children in our families — no matter how old they are! What a gift to be renewed by their simplicity, openness, and dearness.What a joy to watch these next generations rise to their adulthood in grace and honor. What a particular blessing to live to see their children claim a heritage of life and goodness.
I hope you won’t mind me continuing on a personal note, as I did in yesterday’s reflection. On this celebration weekend, my family also marks the birthday of my oldest niece – a paragon of responsibility, honor and goodness. She was the first bright star of our next generation and our family treasures her.
Similar to yesterday’s reflection, we should also let our younger family and friends know how we love them, what great hope and joy we find in them, how grateful we are for them. We should pray constantly for their life in the spirit, for their strength in this shifting world, and for their friendship with God. We should be light for them, as our elders have been for us.
May we never take for granted what we have been given by the ones who come after us, who carry our hope and life into the future.
Music: – sung by the inimitable Bob Dylan, winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature – a singer whom one either loves or hates. I hope you love his rendition of Forever Young.
Lavish Mercy 