Peter approached Jesus and asked him, “Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive him? As many as seven times?” Jesus answered, “I say to you, not seven times but seventy-seven times.
Matthew 18: 21-22
Today’s parable reminds us that often our desire to be forgiven does not match our desire to forgive others. Of course, we understand our personal circumstances and see clearly how they deserve leniency. Can’t you hear yourself saying:
“I didn’t mean it!”
“I just forgot.”
“Give me another chance!”
“I won’t let it happen again.”
Many times people do hurtful things because of their own fears. Mercy calls us to receive and forgive those fears and limitations with the same generous grace as God receives us. And our merciful openness must extend endlessly .. “77 times”. That kind of sincere forgiveness takes a lot of grace. Let’s pray for it today.
Poetry: Forgiveness – George MacDonald
God gives his child upon his slate a sum – To find eternity in hours and years; With both sides covered, back the child doth come, His dim eyes swollen with shed and unshed tears; God smiles, wipes clean the upper side and nether, And says, ‘Now, dear, we’ll do the sum together!’
Jesus said to the people in the synagogue at Nazareth: “Amen, I say to you, no prophet is accepted in his own native place. Indeed, I tell you, there were many widows in Israel in the days of Elijah when the sky was closed for three and a half years and a severe famine spread over the entire land. It was to none of these that Elijah was sent, but only to a widow in Zarephath in the land of Sidon.
Luke 4: 24-26
In our Gospel today, Jesus is not accepted among his neighbors. That lack of acceptance impels Jesus to move his mission out to the wider community.
“Acceptance” can be seen as a passive word suggesting that we just put up with something we cannot change.
On the other hand, it can be a positive condition in our spirituality by which we prepare ourselves to hospitably receive that which we had not expected. Such positive acceptance suggests a non-judgmental, wise, and discerning heart. The folks in today’s Gospel lacked such hearts.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
How open are we to grace when it comes to us in new and unexpected ways – new attitudes, new relationships, new awarenesses and responsibilities?
Do we let ourselves be surprised by God? Or are we pretty sure we have God down pat?
Do we seek new and deeper understandings of God’s Word in our lives by widening our circle of experience and understanding? Or is our “faith” a closed and limited system such as the one displayed by the synagogue listeners toward Jesus?
Poetry: Y’Did Nefesh
Yedid Nefesh (‘beloved of the soul’) is the title of a 16th-century Jewish liturgical poem. It is usually sung on Shabbat, the Jewish day of rest and celebration that begins on Friday before sunset and ends on the following evening after nightfall.
Beloved of the soul, Compassionate Father, draw Your servant to Your will. Then Your servant will hurry like a hart to bow before Your majesty. To me Your friendship will be sweeter than the dripping of the honeycomb.
Majestic, beautiful, radiance of the universe, my soul is heart-sick for your love. Please O God, heal her now by showing her the pleasantness of Your radiance. Then she will be strengthened and healed and eternal gladness will be hers.
All worthy One — may Your mercy be aroused and please take pity on Your beloved, because it is so very long that I have yearned intensely to see the splendor of Your strength, only these my heart desired, so please take pity and do not conceal Yourself.
Please be revealed and spread upon me, my Beloved, the shelter of Your peace that we may rejoice and be glad with You. Hasten, Beloved, for the time has come, and show us grace as in days of old.
… We proclaim Christ crucified, … … Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength.
1 Corinthians 1: 22-25
This is a great mystery of our faith: that the all-powerful One chose to redeem us by assuming our human weakness, suffering torment, and dying an ignominious death.
When my three-year-old grand-niece visited our convent, she enjoyed walking through the huge motherhouse pointing out every statue of Our Lady of Mercy.
With each discovery she would pronounce the title: “Jeezie and his Mommy”. At the end of a very long corridor, we came to a life-size wooden carving of Jesus Crucified. Little Claire studied it, looked up at me and asked, “Who is that?”.
I simply said, “I don’t know” because her sweet little heart could not bear to learn, or to possibly understand, what happened to her “Jeezie”.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
Lent is the time to deepen our understanding of what happened to Jesus because of the “foolishness of God”. That Omnipotent Love suffered, died, and rose for us so that we would understand and embrace the meaning of Love in our own lives.
Let’s pray today for a fuller awareness that our lives are a continuing participation in the Great Love. Let us use these Lenten days to find the pattern of the Cross in our world, and to look within it for the Light of the Resurrection.
Poetry: The Foolishness of God – Luci Shaw
Perform impossibilities or perish. Thrust out now the unseasonal ripe figs among your leaves. Expect the mountain to be moved. Hate parents, friends, and all materiality. Love every enemy. Forgive more times than seventy- seven. Camel-like, squeeze by into the kingdom through the needle’s eye. All fear quell. Hack off your hand, or else, unbloodied, go to hell.
Thus the divine unreason. Despairing now, you cry with earthy logic – How? And I, your God, reply: Leap from your weedy shallows. Dive into the moving water. Eyeless, learn to see truly. Find in my folly your true sanity. Then Spirit-driven, run on my narrow way, sure as a child. Probe, hold my unhealed hand, and bloody, enter heaven.
Music: The Cross is Foolishness – John Michael Talbot (lyrics below)
CHORUS: The Cross is foolishness to those who perish But for us it has become the wisdom of God The Cross is foolishness to those who perish But for us it is salvation and power from God
Some look for miracles, some look for wisdom But we preach only Jesus crucified It seems absurdity, it seems so foolish But to us it is the wisdom of God
(CHORUS)
(CHORUS)
Eye has never seen, ear has never heard Nor has it dawned on the limits of the mind What God has surely prepared For those who love Him He reveals this wisdom through the Spirit of God
Who is there like you, the God who removes guilt and pardons sin for the remnant of his inheritance; Who does not persist in anger forever, but delights rather in clemency, And will again have compassion on us, treading underfoot our guilt?
Micah 7:18-19
We are all familiar with the powerful story of the Prodigal Son.
The word “prodigal”, like many words, can have both light and dark connotations. Its definition, according to Oxford Languages, is twofold:
spending resources recklessly
giving on a lavish scale
On the darker side, many of us interpret the parable from the viewpoint of the son, considering him “prodigal” because he is excessive in the abuse of his inheritance. Others see the “Father” as an expression of God’s Lavish Mercy and Prodigal Love toward us even when we make life-changing mistakes.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
We might choose to pursue both understandings of the word “prodigal” in our prayer today:
to ask God’s forgiveness and healing for any sinful prodigality in our lives
to imitate God’s Prodigal Generosity in our interactions and relationships
Poetry: The Prodigal – Nancy Cardozo
Prodigal of prayer am I, Prodigal of tear, But I have used God sparingly — I think He does not hear.
Stars to wish on flicker flash And I know stars will wear; But I doubt and if I weep, Stars will never care.
I have let my prayer sift down Through a starry sieve; Will God gather up the dust If I believe?
Music: He Ran To Me’ (The Prodigal Son) – Phillips, Craig and Dean
Israel loved Joseph best of all his sons, for he was the child of his old age; and he had made him a beautiful long cloak. When his brothers saw that their father loved him best of all his sons, they hated him so much that they would not even greet him.
Genesis 37: 3-4
Joseph, beloved of his father Jacob, wore a multi-colored expression of his father’s love. Because others were jealous of this love, Joseph, the innocent one, was persecuted. Nevertheless, he endured and eventually forgave his brothers, giving them the means for a new life.
Joseph is a prototype of Jesus, the Beloved Son who displayed his Father’s love by his life of mercy. Jesus, Supreme Innocence, was persecuted too, endured death, forgave his persecutors, and gave us new life.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
In my prayer, I ask myself what patterns of Joseph and Jesus do I see in my world? Where do I see Innocence suffering? Where do I see mercy offered rather than persecution? Where do I see the need for acknowledgement and forgiveness?
Where do I see these things in my wider world and in myself? My awareness and response is the way I walk with Christ this Lent.
Poetry: Joseph’s Coat – George Herbert (1593-1633), English poet, orator, priest, and venerated Saint of the Church of England.
Herbert’s poem suggests that through the “joyes” and “griefs” of life, one finds sanctification only through God’s love and mercy. His imagery references Joseph’s downfall at the hands of his brothers and restoration through God’s design
Wounded I sing, tormented I indite, Thrown down I fall into a bed, and rest: Sorrow hath chang’d its note: such is his will, Who changeth all things, as him pleaseth best. For well he knows, if but one grief and smart Among my many had his full career, Sure it would carrie with it ev’n my heart, And both would runne untill they found a biere To fetch the bodie; both being due to grief. But he hath spoil’d the race; and giv’n to anguish One of Joyes coats, ticing it with relief To linger in me, and together languish. I live to shew his power, who once did bring My joyes to weep, and now my griefs to sing.
Then the mother of the sons of Zebedee approached Jesus with her sons and asked … “Command that these two sons of mine sit, one at your right and the other at your left, in your kingdom.” Jesus said in reply, “You do not know what you are asking. Can you drink the chalice that I am going to drink?” They said to him, “We can.” He replied, “My chalice you will indeed drink, but to sit at my right and at my left, this is not mine to give but is for those for whom it has been prepared by my Father.”
Mark 10:20-23
In our Gospel, Jesus makes it clear that the path to heavenly glory is bound by a spiritual discipline that, in this contrary world, will cause us suffering. The cup is that chasm in life where we must choose peace over violence, generosity over selfishness, mercy over judgment, truth over deception, love over indifference. There will be resistance, both within us and around us, when we make such choices.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
Let’s be honest with ourselves as we answer Jesus’s question: “Can you drink the cup that I will drink?” Let’s pray for the grace to drink that cup as it comes to us in the particularities of our own lives. Let’s ask for the spiritual confidence and understanding that the cup – our cup – leads to eternal life.
Poetry: Can You Drink the Cup? – by Scott Surrency, O.F.M. Cap. (2015)
Can you drink the cup? Drink, not survey or analyze, ponder or scrutinize – from a distance. But drink – imbibe, ingest, take into you so that it becomes a piece of your inmost self. And not with cautious sips that barely moisten your lips, but with audacious drafts that spill down your chin and onto your chest. (Forget decorum – reserve would give offense.) Can you drink the cup? The cup of rejection and opposition, betrayal and regret. Like vinegar and gall, pungent and tart, making you wince and recoil. But not only that – for the cup is deceptively deep – there are hopes and joys in there, too, like thrilling champagne with bubbles that tickle your nose on New Year’s Eve, and fleeting moments of almost – almost – sheer ecstasy that last as long as an eye-blink, or a champagne bubble, but mysteriously satisfy and sustain. Can you drink the cup? Yes, you — with your insecurities, visible and invisible. You with the doubts that nibble around the edges and the ones that devour in one great big gulp. You with your impetuous starts and youth-like bursts of love and devotion. You with your giving up too soon – or too late – and being tyrannically hard on yourself. You with your Yes, but’s and I’m sorry’s – again. Yes, you – but with my grace. Can you drink the cup? Can I drink the cup? Yes.
Music: We Will Drink the Cup
We will drink the cup. We will win the fight. We will stand against the darkness of the night. We will run the race And see God’s face, And build the Kingdom of love.
Do not fear for I am with you. Be still and know that I am God.
You will run and not grow weary, For I your God will be your strength. Refrain
We are the Church, we are the Body. We are God’s great work of art.
“Take your son Isaac, your only one, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah. There you shall offer him up as a holocaust on a mountain that I will point out to you.”
Jesus took Peter, James, and John and led them up a high mountain apart by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no fuller on earth could bleach them.
Often it is at the height of our joy, or the height of our sorrow that we feel closest to God. Intense experiences can bring us unequaled grace and opportunity for spiritual growth.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
In our prayer, we may gratefully remember the “mountains” of our lives, those times when joy, hope, pain, or anxiety built almost insurmountably in our hearts. How did God meet us in those moments? How did we meet God? How have our “mountains” transformed our lives?
Poetry: Unveiling the Heart’s Mirror – Rumi
All through eternity Beauty unveils His exquisite form in the solitude of nothingness; He holds a mirror to His Face and beholds His own beauty. he is the knower and the known, the seer and the seen; No eye but His own has ever looked upon this Universe. His every quality finds an expression: Eternity becomes the verdant field of Time and Space; Love, the life-giving garden of this world. Every branch and leaf and fruit Reveals an aspect of His perfection. The cypress gives hint of His majesty, The rose gives tidings of His beauty. Whenever Beauty looks, Love is also there; Whenever beauty shows a rosy cheek Love lights Her fire from that flame. When beauty dwells in the dark folds of night Love comes and finds a heart entangled in tresses. Beauty and Love are as body and soul. Beauty is the mine, Love is the diamond. They have together since the beginning of time- Side by side, step by step. I swear, since seeing Your face, the whole world is fraud and fantasy The garden is bewildered as to what is leaf or blossom. The distracted birds can’t distinguish the birdseed from the snare. A house of love with no limits, a presence more beautiful than venus or the moon, a beauty whose image fills the mirror of the heart.
Just as Jonah became a sign to the Ninevites, so will the Son of Man be to this generation. At the judgment the queen of the south will rise with the men of this generation and she will condemn them, because she came from the ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon, and there is something greater than Solomon here.
Luke 11: 30-31
Just like the Ninevites in Jonah’s time, we are called to turn our hearts fully to God. Throughout the Hebrew Scriptures, many prophets were sent with this message. But we have been given One greater than any of these prophets. Jesus is the ultimate Sign of God’s desire for our faith, love, and hope. We are called to live according to his Word.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy,
We might ask ourselves how free we are of the need to demand signs from God. When we live in deep relationship with another person, we trust their good will and loving intention toward us. We don’t have to ask them every five minutes if they still love us. We don’t have to pick apart their actions to test their intentions. We trust that they want only the best for us. How much more we can trust God who sent God’s own Beloved Son to redeem us!
Music: Two hymns today.
Son of God – by Starfield
God’s Own Son, Most Holy – by Ryan Flanagan
Verse 1: (From Christian Worship: a Lutheran hymnal #17) God’s own son, most holy Came a servant lowly Came to live among us Came to suffer for us Bore the cross to save us Hope and freedom gave us
Verse 2: (From The 1982 Hymnal: Episcopal, #53) Still he comes within us Still his voice would win us From the sins that hurt us Would the truth convert us Not in torment hold us But in love enfold us
Chorus: (Derived from 4th verse Common Service Book Lutheran #10 and Lutheran Service Book ) Come, O come, Lord Jesus From our sins release us Let us here confess you God’s own Son
Verse 3 Thus, if we have known him Not ashamed to own him Nor have loved him coldly But will trust him boldly He will then receive us Heal us and forgive us
Chorus Come, O come, Lord Jesus From our sins release us Let us here confess you God’s own Son, most holy Keep our hearts believing That we, grace receiving Ever may confess you God’s own Son, most holy
Verse 4 (From: The Chorale Book for England #26, changed to new English first person plural) But through many a trial Deepest self denial Long and brave endurance Must we win assurance That his own he makes us And no more forsakes us
Jesus said to his disciples: “In praying, do not babble like the pagans, who think that they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them. Your Father knows what you need before you ask him.
Matthew 6: 7-8
I enjoy when Jesus is bluntly funny with his followers, as in today’s “Don’t babble!“. But my enjoyment wanes when I realize that he’s talking to me too. What about the quality of my prayer? Where do I fall on the “babble scale”?
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
We might consider the quality of our prayer, just as we might consider the quality of our conversation with anyone we dearly love. Do we talk with them enough? Do we listen to them well? Do we talk about things that matter? Do we say “the important things” to one another? Do we know and love each other well enough that we can communicate without even speaking?
That deep silent dialogue with God is referred to as contemplative prayer. The site below is a great place to enrich our practice of this type of prayer.
One of the most celebrated poets of the American post-war generation, Jorie Graham is the author of numerous collections of poetry, including The Dream of the Unified Field: Selected Poems 1974-1992 (1995) winner of the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry. She has taught for many years at Harvard University as the Boylston Professor of Rhetoric and Oratory, the first woman to be given this position, which was previously held by Seamus Heaney and many other writers dating back to the first Boylston Professor, John Quincy Adams.
Over a dock railing, I watch the minnows, thousands, swirl themselves, each a minuscule muscle, but also, without the way to create current, making of their unison (turning, re- infolding, entering and exiting their own unison in unison) making of themselves a visual current, one that cannot freight or sway by minutest fractions the water’s downdrafts and upswirls, the dockside cycles of finally-arriving boat-wakes, there where they hit deeper resistance, water that seems to burst into itself (it has those layers), a real current though mostly invisible sending into the visible (minnows) arrowing motion that forces change
this is freedom. This is the force of faith. Nobody gets what they want. Never again are you the same. The longing is to be pure. What you get is to be changed. More and more by each glistening minute, through which infinity threads itself, also oblivion, of course, the aftershocks of something at sea. Here, hands full of sand, letting it sift through in the wind, I look in and say take this, this is what I have saved, take this, hurry. And if I listen now? Listen, I was not saying anything. It was only something I did. I could not choose words. I am free to go. I cannot of course come back. Not to this. Never. It is a ghost posed on my lips. Here: never.
Music: The Prayer – written by David Foster, Carole Bayer Sager, Alberto Testa and Tony Renis
The Spirit drove Jesus out into the desert, and he remained in the desert for forty days, tempted by Satan. He was among wild beasts, and the angels ministered to him.
Mark 1:12-13
Isn’t it shocking that even our Godly Jesus experienced temptation?
There is a devotional tradition that considers temptation an act of God to test us. You have probably heard the tired old adage, “God will never test us beyond our endurance.”
I think that this is a limited and skewed image of God! God is not our Tester, our Tormentor, or our Tease. God is our Creator and Lover.
It is LIFE that tests us, and God abides with us in every aspect of that testing, just as the Father did with Jesus in the desert.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
Let us go with Jesus to the desert in our prayer today, asking his enlightenment over any dark corners of our faith, hope, and love. Life can tempt us to choose less than God desires for us. Let us ask for the strength to always choose God Who is Love.
Poetry: THE TESTING (A TRIPTYCH) – Irene Zimmerman, OSF This is part 2 of a three-part poem by Irene Zimmerman. I highly recommend her beautiful spiritual poetry which illuminates the sacred scriptures.
Higher and yet higher he was led till all the kingdoms of the world lay spread before his eyes, more splendid still than he had ever dreamed. “Worship me and these are yours,” the Tempter said. Mountains boomed and echoed a thundering “No!” The Son of Man would choose instead to go where he was sent, to have no place to lay his head, to be content to spread himself cross-beamed above a common hill.
Music: Jesus Tempted in the Desert – text by Herman G. Stuempfle (1923 – 2007); tune by Thomas J. Williams (1890)
Lavish Mercy 