Today, in Mercy, on this Solemnity of All Saints, let us pray especially for our recent saints and martyrs – victims of hate, violence and irresponsible policy. Let us know them to be now in the arms of Love, a Love Whom we beg to heal us who remain, impelling us to true justice and mercy.
As we pray, let us reflect on the following hymn for the Holy Innocents, resolving to protect sacred life in ALL its manifold ages and expressions.
1.Salvete, flores Martyrum,
In lucis ipso lumine
Quos sevus ensis messuit,
Ceu turbo nascentes rosas.
2.Vos prima Christi victima,
Grex immolatorum tener,
Aram sub ipsam simplices
Palma et coronis luditis.
3.Qui natus es de Virgine
Jesu, tibi sit gloria,
Cum Patre, cumque Spiritu,
In sempiterna secula.
1. Flowers of martyrdom, all hail!
Smitten by the tyrant foe On life’s threshold – as the gale Strews the roses ere they blow.
2. First to bleed for God, sweet lambs! In innocence you died!
Rising with your wreath and palms At the very altar-side!
3. Honor, glory, virtue, merit, Be to Thee, O Living God, With Creator, and the Spirit While eternal ages run. – Amen.
Music: Salvete, Flores Martyrum -Tomás Luis de Victoria · Lluis Vich
Today, in Mercy, Jesus poses a question to his followers:
“What is the Kingdom of Heaven like?” It is rhetorical question and he goes on to explain, in beautiful symbols, the joy and fullness of heaven.
But were Jesus walking physically among us today, He might answer his own question by saying:
This is what it is NOT like:
the killing of innocents because of their faith, heritage, lifestyle or politics
the starvation and incarceration of children from Yemen to Mexico to Syria
the fueling of war by an economy of arms sales
the destruction of an environment given to us in trust
the systematic dehumanization of humanity through violence, lies, greed, and political arrogance
the ignorant indifference in “good” people which blindly fosters such dehumanization
Indeed, Rachel weeps for her beloved martyrs in Pittsburgh, for her dear children in Jeffersonville – as do all of decent and loving heart. And she weeps also for thousands who die daily from the failure of love. She weeps for all of us. In a society this sick with violence and hate, we are all victims.
Let us all choose the only survival — to act in mercy, justice and love. Let us do so to the memory of these martyrs and the many whom they follow.
Today, in Mercy, our readings continue the theme of sincere faith versus hypocritical practices.
Paul really lets the Galatian community have it. Apparently, their behavior had slipped pretty low!Paul’s list of things to be avoided contains some shocking stuff, like orgies, bursts of fury, and drinking bouts. Sounds bad! A lot worse, I hope, than any list he might make about us if he were writing now. I wonder?
In our Gospel, Jesus let’s loose on some of the Pharisees too. He points out that they practice the tiniest, visible observances so that people see them as holy. But they ignore the more important requirements of love, justice and mercy. In other words, they lookgood but don’t do good.
As we pray with these readings, we could try to address the small hypocrisies in our own lives – a kind of “weed the garden” approach. Surely it would help our spiritual life to get rid of anything like orgies, fury and drunkenness. But I think most of us, dear readers, are pretty much beyond that. 🙏
I prefer to take my cues from Paul’s accompanying list of virtues to be pursued: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. How obvious are these things in my life? When I lie my head on the pillow at night, are these the things I remember about my day? Have I given these gifts to others? Have I received them with gratitude?
As we read about the tithes of mint, rue and other garden herbs, the cooks among us might like to imagine life as a great bouillabaisse, perfectly seasoned for God with all the spices on Paul’s menu. What little herb do you need to add right now?
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.
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, we celebrate the Feast of the Archangels Michael, Gabriel and Raphael.
I have always had a special love for St. Michael, having grown up in a parish named for him. Like many people, I was fascinated by the concept of angels – dynamic, immortal beings who provided hidden protection to my young soul. Although popular culture minimizes angels into fat little Valentine cherubs, the idea of a strong, noble supernatural sibling has remained with me throughout life.
And although tradition has designated these angels with beautiful male names, angels are without gender. They could just as easily be imagined as mighty, glorious Sisters safeguarding us for God.
Praying with the angels can teach us more about their nature, and more about our own. Each of us, creatures of The Eternal One, reflect particular aspects of God’s nature. Just as children might resemble one of their parents, we humans and angels look like God.
We humans, with all natural Creation, reflect God’s mercy, love, inclusivity.
Angels mirror God’s power, transcendence and glory. They exist in the perfection of adoration and service to God. They invite us to that same perfection when our earthly journey ends.
What a blessing and help for us to live more consciously in the presence of these invisible beings who desire and foster our good! What a spiritual support to realize that the communion of angels and saints perpetually and lovingly surrounds us!
The Catechism of the Catholic Church says this:
From its beginning until death, human life is surrounded by the angels’ watchful care and intercession. Beside each believer stands an angel as protector and shepherd leading that person to life. Here on earth the Christian life already shares by faith in the blessed company of angels and saints united in God.
Perhaps today, we might pray to know these holy companions a little better, and to gratefully allow them to bolster our spirits for the day’s journey.
Music: The Hymn of the Cherubim of the Byzantine Liturgy is one of the most beautiful hymns of all the Catholic Liturgies. The hymn was added to the Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom by the Emperor Justinian. The lyrics are:
We, who mystically represent the Cherubim, And chant the thrice-holy hymn to the Life-giving Trinity, Let us set aside the cares of life That we may receive the King of all, Who comes invisibly escorted by the Divine Hosts.
Today, as the Mercy Family throughout the world celebrates Mercy Day, we praise and thank God for the call given to Venerable Catherine McAuley to respond to God’s grace by founding the Sisters of Mercy.
On September 24, 1827, Catherine used an unexpected inheritance to open a house for poor and homeless women in Dublin. It began with two, Catherine and Mary Ann Doyle – and that small, vibrant fire has lit the hearts of millions ever since.
Many of you, dear readers, carry that fire and will know Catherine’s story well. But some still unfamiliar with her life might want to explore this website:
For those of us who treasure a share in Catherine’s call, today’s readings from Proverbs and Psalms offer a picture of what mercy in action looks like. Luke’s Gospel exhorts us that our Mercy light should be raised up to shine for all those seeking refuge from a darkness- whether it be poverty, sickness, ignorance or any kind of isolation or oppression.
To gain courage and energy for that shining, let us reach through time for Catherine’s hand, telling her how we share her dream for God’s Mercy for all Creation. Let us ask her to enliven us each morning with the same passion for justice, the same compassionate tenderness, the same welcoming heart by which she showed others the love of God.
Are there not moments when we are overwhelmed by the Mercy of God welling up within us and around us, flowing from good hearts over the world’s needs? We see and bless this grace in each other, dear Family, as we thank God this day to be called “Mercy”.
May each of your lives be richly blessed and marked by Mercy!
Today, I thought you might enjoy this powerful poem by Denise Levertov.
The music link is beneath it. ❤️ Happy and blessed Mercy Day to all.
To Live in the Mercy of God
To lie back under the tallest
oldest trees. How far the stems
rise, rise
before ribs of shelter
open!
To live in the mercy of God. The complete
sentence too adequate, has no give.
Awe, not comfort. Stone, elbows of
stony wood beneath lenient
moss bed.
And awe suddenly
passing beyond itself. Becomes
a form of comfort.
Becomes the steady
air you glide on, arms
stretched like the wings of flying foxes.
To hear the multiple silence
of trees, the rainy
forest depths of their listening.
To float, upheld,
as salt water
would hold you,
once you dared.
To live in the mercy of God.
To feel vibrate the enraptured
waterfall flinging itself
unabating down and down
to clenched fists of rock.
Swiftness of plunge,
hour after year after century,
O or Ah
uninterrupted, voice
many-stranded.
To breathe
spray. The smoke of it.
Arcs
of steelwhite foam, glissades
of fugitive jade barely perceptible. Such passion—
rage or joy?
Thus, not mild, not temperate,
God’s love for the world. Vast
flood of mercy
flung on resistance.
———-
Today, in Mercy, our readings might lead us to wonder, “Does God have favorites?”
I think Luke’s Gospel today says, “Well, yes, kinda’!”
This passage from Luke is a parallel to Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount. Matthew includes the familiar Eight Beatitudes, delivered in spiritual tones which allow most of us find ourselves somewhere among them. Matthew talks about the “poor in spirit”, the meek, mourning and merciful. At least once in our lives, we probably fall into one of Matthew’s “blessed” categories. Doing so let’s us think we might be among God’s favorites or blessed ones — at least sometimes, right?
But hold up, here comes Luke with a whole different take on blessedness. Luke says just the plain poor, hungry, weeping and hated are blessed. Luke’s sanctifying suffering is material, not just spiritual. Luke suggests that the destitute, bereft and ostracized are clearly God’s favorites.
What does that say to us? I don’t know about you, but I’m not real anxious to join Luke’s blessed group. I don’t like the feeling of poor, hungry, weeping and hated! On the other hand, I do want to be one of God’s favorites, don’t you?
What I think we can do is this:
to love the poor and materially broken as God loves them
to do all we can to bring them comfort and healing, mercy and justice
to learn from them what it is like to stand before God with nothing between us but longing and hope
to look at our own materially abundant life with a critical eye and discerning heart
to see any darkness we endure in the light of God’s illuminating promise
to be grateful, humble, and open to the transforming graces God might offer us even in suffering
Today, in Mercy, we celebrate the Birthday of Mary, Mother of Jesus.
It is a special day for me and many of my Sisters, as September 8th was one of the traditional entrance dates for young women joining the community.Fifty-five years ago, the sun rose bright as gold at my bedroom window. Its rays fell along the hem of my long, black postulant’s dress hanging in expectation on the door.
On that day, I would step into an unwritten future, every possibility already joyfully given to God. Like Mary, I and my companions were being born into a God-destined life. It was a thrilling moment for me.
Taken about nine months after Entrance Day. ( Notice the guy still crying in the back!)
What I really didn’t think about that day was my mother. Yes, there was joy, but there was some pain watching me be born into a second life beyond her.
On this Feastday, I think about St. Anne and wonder what blessings and hopes she whispered over young Mary. I think about how Anne felt as she watched Mary choose her own path to God; how she felt as Mary’s awesome life unfolded. And I pray in thanksgiving for my own mother.
This morning, I stand in amazed and humble gratitude to see time’s long cast over the years. Decades seem folded into moments, a thousand stories bound in a single, grateful prayer. God, indeed, has dealt bountifully with me. But somehow I believe that God was encouraged to do so by my mother. 🤗🙏
The music today may seem an unusual choice, but I think it captures a hope every loving mother has for her child. Anne may have hummed the hope over Mary in Aramaic tones; my mother over me in a 1940’s ballad. May we sing a melody of grace over all our children, freeing and blessing them to dance with God.
Blessings and love to my “Band of Sisters”, shown here as we marked our Golden Jubilee five years ago. (Missing our dear Arizona contingent who was unable to join us that day.)
May you continue to be bountifully blessed, beloved companions in Mercy!
Today, in Mercy, Jesus offers the Pharisees “new wine”, the freedom of his law of love over their accustomed law of requirements.
Have you ever found yourself in circumstances where you’re saying or hearing things like this:
It’s the law
That’s the way we’ve always done it
Sorry. They’re the rules.
Doesn’t matter. No exceptions.
In such situations, we are experiencing a code of limitations where we are defined either by what we must do or must not do.
The Pharisaical law had become such a code, its spirit and freedom worn away by ages of control, authoritarianism, and brittle institutionalization.
Jesus preaches the new law of love, which can sound a little squishy and self-indulgent at first, because our navel-gazing culture has so eviscerated the meaning of love.
But real Christian love is the hardest “code” we will ever practice. Patterned on Jesus’ life, it is a discipline of mercy, self-sacrifice, radical inclusivity, non-violence, and forgiveness. Such a love will die for the sake of the beloved’s life in God.
Drinking this “new wine” brings us a profound freedom in God Who loves us like this — but infinitely.
Lavish Mercy 