Blessed are you who fear the LORD, who walk in his ways! For you shall eat the fruit of your handiwork; blessed shall you be, and favored. Psalm 128:1-2
In today’s Gospel, Jesus really slams the Pharisees! They had to walk away from his condemnation thinking twice about the pretense of their lives!
Paul advises his followers not to “walk in disorderly way” – a little bit gentler admonition, but still a call to get one’s act together.
Our instructive psalm tells us why we should pay attention to the reproofs of Jesus and Paul. It reminds us that to walk in the way of the Lord brings us eternal blessing and favor.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy: We ask to continually learn how to walk in God’s grace for there is always a new challenge on Life’s pathway.
Thought:
As you start to walk on the way, the way appears.
Rumi
Music: Walk in the Light – Aretha Franklin
Jesus is the light of the world Come on choir
Walk in the light (walk in the light) Beautiful light (well it’s a beautiful light) Come where the dewdrops of mercy shine bright (Oh Lord) Shine all around us by day and by night Oh oh oh oh, Jesus is the light of the world
I wonder, do you know that this evening Yeah yeah yeah
Walk in the light (we’re walk in the light) Beautiful light (well it’s a beautiful light) Come where the dewdrops of mercy shine bright Oh Lord, shine all around us by day and by night Oh Lord, Jesus is the light of the world
Oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh, yeah
Walk in the light (we’re going the distance, yeah) Beautiful light (we’re going the distance where the light) Come where the dewdrops of mercy shine bright (of mercy shine bright) Shine all around us by day and by night (Oh Lord) Jesus is the light of the world (the Lord is the light of the world)
He’s shining (Yes, he’s shining) He’s shining (oh yes he is, he’s shining) He’s shining in my soul (oh yes he is, oh yeah)
Jesus said, “Have the people recline.” Now there was a great deal of grass in that place. So the men reclined, about five thousand in number. Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed them to those who were reclining, and also as much of the fish as they wanted. When they had had their fill, he said to his disciples, “Gather the fragments left over, so that nothing will be wasted.” So they collected them, and filled twelve wicker baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves that had been more than they could eat. John 6:10-13
Today’s readings are about being fed – not only in a physical sense, but also in a spiritual sense. Jesus’s miracle with the loaves and fishes fed a lot of hungry people, but it more importantly opened their eyes to his power to redeem them. It gave them hope, the spiritual food for which we all hunger.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy: We realize that the same Lavish Mercy which fed those on the ancient hillside feeds and transforms us throughout our lives. As Paul indicates in the second reading, it makes us one in the infinite abundance of God’s grace and call.
May we therefore “live in a manner worthy of the call we have received.”
Poetry: When a Little Was Enough – Irene Zimmerman, OSF
“Send the people away from this deserted place to find food and lodgings,” the twelve urged Jesus, “for the day is advanced and it is almost evening.”
Jesus looked at the crowd (there were about five thousand) and looked at his disciples, still excited and tired from their first mission journey.
What had they learned from the villagers of Galilee who shared bread and sheltered them from cold night winds? What had they learned of human coldness on the way?
He remembered the pain in his mother’s voice as she told of his birth night when they found no room in all of Bethlehem, House of Bread.
“You give them something to eat!” he said.
“We have only five loaves and two fish!” they protested. “How can we feed so many with so little?” He understood their incredulity.
They had yet to learn that a little was enough when it was all they had— that God could turn these very stones to bread.
“Have the crowd sit down in groups of fifty,” he said. Jesus took the food and looked up to heaven. He blessed it, broke it, gave it to the disciples to distribute to the new-formed churches.
Afterwards, when everyone was satisfied, the twelve filled twelve baskets of bread left over— as faith stirred like yeast within them.
Music: I Am – by Finding Favor
While you were sleeping While the whole world was dreaming I never left your side And I can promise I won’t be leaving
I watch you breathing And I hear you singing I feel your heart beat and I know every pain That you’re feeling
And I am the comfort when you are afraid I am the refuge when you call my name I was, I’ll be, I am
I know you’re broken You’re busted wide open You’ve fallen to pieces and you feel there’s nothing left You can hope in
But I’ll hold you together We’ll stand the weather Cause I paid the price for you And I won’t let you go, no never
And I am the comfort when you are afraid I am the refuge when you call my name I was, I’ll be, I am
And I am the future, and I am the past I am the first and I am the last I was, I’ll be, I am
I am the Father, I am the Son I am the Spirit, I am the One I was, I’ll be, I am
And I wore the thorns and I took the nails I am love, and love never fails I was, I’ll be, I am I am, I am, I am
Shepherd your people with your staff, the flock of your inheritance, That dwells apart in a woodland, in the midst of Carmel. Let them feed in Bashan and Gilead, as in the days of old; As in the days when you came from the land of Egypt, show us wonderful signs… 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 mercy… Micah 7:14-15; 18
Micah prophesied about 700 years before Christ. His world was under siege by Sennacherib the Assyrian king. In the midst of this devastation, many abandoned the one true faith. But there was a small faithful portion of believers – the remnant – whom Micah sought to both warn and encourage by his prophecies.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy: We, too, live in a time of siege. Our faith is constantly challenged by our culture, our politics, religious institutionalization, and our self-serving economy.
But Micah reminds us that still God shepherds us tenderly. God awaits our recognition of God’s graces and call to be among the remnant who do not lose faith.
Poetry: Friday – Elizabeth Jennings (1926-2001) Jennings ranks among the finest British poets of the second half of the twentieth century. She is also England’s best Catholic poet since Gerard Manley Hopkins.
We nailed the hands long ago, Wove the thorns, took up the scourge and shouted For excitement's sake, we stood at the dusty edge Of the pebbled path and watched the extreme of pain.
But one or two prayed, one or two Were silent, shocked, stood back And remembered remnants of words, a new vision, The cross is up with its crying victim, the clouds Cover the sun, we learn a new way to lose What we did not know we had Until this bleak and sacrificial day, Until we turned from our bad Past and knelt and cried out our dismay, The dice still clicking, the voices dying away.
Music: Arise and Shine – New Wine
Not a pleasing piece of music, but perhaps what Micah would sound like were he preaching today?
Behold, my servant whom I have chosen, my beloved in whom I delight; I shall place my Spirit upon him, and he will proclaim justice to the Gentiles. He will not contend or cry out, nor will anyone hear his voice in the streets. A bruised reed he will not break, a smoldering wick he will not quench, until he brings justice to victory. And in his name the Gentiles will hope. Matthew 12:18-21 (cited from Isaiah 42:1-4
This beautiful passage, that focuses on the gentleness of the Messiah, comforts our spirits. But it also calls us to imitate that gentleness with those most in need of it.
The example Jesus offers us is not popular in our often violent world. It is hard to live in its courageous imitation. But it matters that we do.
“The modern world’s feverish struggle for unbridled, often unlicensed, freedom is answered by the bound, enclosed helplessness and dependence of Christ— Christ in the womb, Christ in the Host, Christ in the tomb.”
― Caryll Houselander, The Reed of God
Poetry: A Bruised Reed Shall He Not Break – Christina Rossetti
I will accept thy will to do and be, Thy hatred and intolerance of sin, Thy will at least to love, that burns within And thirsteth after Me: So will I render fruitful, blessing still, The germs and small beginnings in thy heart, Because thy will cleaves to the better part.— Alas, I cannot will. Dost not thou will, poor soul? Yet I receive The inner unseen longings of the soul, I guide them turning towards Me; I control And charm hearts till they grieve: If thou desire, it yet shall come to pass, Though thou but wish indeed to choose My love; For I have power in earth and heaven above.— I cannot wish, alas! What, neither choose nor wish to choose? and yet I still must strive to win thee and constrain: For thee I hung upon the cross in pain, How then can I forget? If thou as yet dost neither love, nor hate, Nor choose, nor wish,—resign thyself, be still Till I infuse love, hatred, longing, will.— I do not deprecate.
Music: A Bruised Reed by Charlie and Jill LeBlanc
Beautiful images despite a somewhat monotonous melody.
Jesus said to his Apostles: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace upon the earth. I have come to bring not peace but the sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one’s enemies will be those of his household. Matthew 10:34-36
I would not have liked hearing these words from Jesus, would you? The last thing I would have ever wanted was to be set against my precious mother! So WHAT is Jesus talking about?
These words are central to Christ’s mandate to his disciples. He is telling them that they will inevitably meet painful conflict while living out his mission. Sometimes the conflict will even be within their families and among their friends.
This is because God’s Peace is not quiet indifference but the striving for just equanimity for all people. This is the sword of discipleship – we must cut ourselves away from anything that turns us from a just and merciful God.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, We pray for graced insight that we may see where the sword is pointing in our lives, and for courage that we may do the necessary cutting to be worthy disciples and build an honest peace in our world.
Poetry: Swords Into Plowshares – Daniel Berrigan, SJ This poem was written in response to the conviction of the Plowshares Eight, of whom Berrigan was a member, for their civil disobedience against nuclear war.
Wednesday of the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time July 10, 2024
Jesus sent out these Twelve after instructing them thus, “Do not go into pagan territory or enter a Samaritan town. Go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. As you go, make this proclamation: ‘The Kingdom of heaven is at hand.’” Matthew 10: 5-7
In this passage, Jesus is concerned with those who were offered faith in One God but have lost touch with it — “lost sheep of the house of Israel”. He wants these lost believers to be given the message, “The Kingdom of heaven is at hand.”
While the message conveys a sense of urgency (Hurry up and get your act together), it also offers a calming security. When something is “at hand”, we can touch it. We can hold on to it for balance. We can feel support and accompaniment as we we hold hands with a Loving Presence.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy: We may hear Jesus’s words either as a warning or an invitation to intimacy. Love is at hand for us, even if our faith has become distracted and our direction “lost”. We are invited to reach out to the God Who waits for us.
Poetry:
“The Beloved is with you in the midst of your seeking! God holds your hand wherever you wander.
Rumi
Music: Hold to God’s Unchanging Hand – Jennie Bain Wilson (1857) Sung here by Lynda Randle
Time is filled with swift transition, Naught of earth unmoved can stand, Build your hopes on things eternal, Hold to God’s unchanging hand. Refrain: Hold to God’s unchanging hand, Hold to God’s unchanging hand; Build your hopes on things eternal, Hold to God’s unchanging hand.
Trust in Him who will not leave you, Whatsoever years may bring, If by earthly friends forsaken Still more closely to Him cling.
When your journey is completed, If to God you have been true, Fair and bright the home in glory Your enraptured soul will view.
Jesus went around to all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the Gospel of the Kingdom, and curing every disease and illness. At the sight of the crowds, his heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd. Matthew 9:32-38
Have you ever felt your heart constrict or your belly drop in the face of deep sadness or shock? If so, you have felt “splancha”, the Greek word for that profound compassion that wells up from our innards for the sake of a suffering person.
Matthew tells us that Jesus felt “splancha” for the crowds because they were troubled and abandoned. They had lost their way to God and had no one to help them find it. Thus he reaches out to heal and teach them about God’s Lavish Mercy.
Today, in that same Lavish Mercy: By the grace of God may we, and all who are in need of grace, be healed of trouble and abandonment to find our way to God through the Mercy of Jesus.
Poetry: Mercy by John F. Dean
Unholy we sang this morning, and prayed as if we were not broken, crooked the Christ-figure hung, splayed on bloodied beams above us; devious God, dweller in shadows, mercy on us; immortal, cross-shattered Christ— your gentling grace down upon us.
Music: Merciful God – The Gettys and Stuart Townend
I will espouse you to me forever: I will espouse you in right and in justice, in love and in mercy; I will espouse you in fidelity, and you shall know the LORD. Hosea 2:21-22
The prophet Hosea is a consummate poet. He uses the metaphor of espousal to convey the profound and merciful love of God for the people. Hosea contemplates his own life and his experience of marital infidelity to more deeply understand the relationship between a forgiving God and a false-hearted people. The language is beautiful, powerful, at times unsettling. It is intended to turn Israel’s heart – and ours – fully toward God’s love in repentance and fidelity.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy
God is the Lover and Spouse of our souls, of the whole Church, and of all Creation. In trust and openness, let us give ourselves to that Divine Mercy in every aspect of our lives.
Poetry: Hosea and Gomer by John Piper
This beautiful poem helps us more deeply understand the Book of Hosea.
The old man and his wife sat by The winter fire and looked out high Above the plains of Ephraim, And saw around the last regime Of Israel the shadows snake Their way from east to west and take Possession of Samaria. “How long until Assyria,’ They thought, “would break Hoshea’s rod, And violate the wife of God?”
But strange as it may seem, the doom They saw across the land left room For hope. And when they looked into Each other’s eyes, as they would do At night, they knew, as none could know But they, that God would bend his bow Against the charms of foreign men, And take his faithless wife again. They knew it could and would be done, As surely as the rising sun Drives darkness back unerringly, And drowns it in the western sea. They knew, because they had rehearsed The tragedy and played it first Themselves with passion and deceit.
“It’s true that life is far more sweet,” Hosea thought, “when it is lost, Then bought again at dreadful cost; And love grows strong when it must wait, And deep when it is almost hate.”
Such things as these he often said To Gomer as they watched the red And crimson echoes of the sky Descend Mount Tabor’s cliffs and die In darkness far below. And she Would say to him, “Your love for me Was like a mountain waterfall, And I the jagged stone. Of all The knives and hammers once applied None made me smooth or clean. They tried, But harlotry was in my blood, Until your love became a flood Cascading over my crude life And kept me as your only wife.”
They knew as none but they could know What it would mean that long ago The Lord allowed his love to swell, And married faithless Israel.
The passing of the years now found The children grown and gathered ’round This night: Jezreel and Loammi, Hosea’s sons, and at his knee Loruhamah. The room was sweet With memories, and each replete With pleasure and with ample pain. Among the memories one main Experience above the rest Embraced them all. It was the best; Indeed it was the mountain spring Of every happy stream from which The family ever drank, and rich With hope. It was Hosea’s love. The children stood in wonder of The way he loved, and Gomer too. But this had not always been true.
Hosea used to say, “It’s hard To be a seer, and prophet bard. The price is high when he must sing A song of ruin over everything In lyrics written with his life And lose his children and his wife.”
And so it was, Hosea heard The Lord. It was the strangest word A holy prophet ever got: And every pointed precept shot Like arrows at Hosea’s life: “Go take a harlot for your wife,” Thus says the Lord, “And feel with me The grief and pain of harlotry. Her father’s name is Diblaim; He makes fertility with cream And raisin cakes. He will not see Her go without a price, for she Has brought him profits from her trade. Now go, and let her price be paid; And bring her back and let her bear Your son. Call him Jezreel. For there Is coming soon a day when I Will strike and break the bloody thigh Of Jehu’s brutal house, and seal With blood the valley of Jezreel.
And after that, though she’s defiled. Go in, and get another child, And make your tender face like rock. Call her Loruahmah and lock Your heart against all sympathy: `Not pitied’ is her name. No plea From faithless Israel will wake My sympathy till I forsake My daughter in the wilderness.
Now multiply once more distress: Hosea, go beget a son, For there is yet one child to shun, And call him Loammi, in shame, For `Not My People’ is his name.”
Hosea used to walk along The Jordan rim and sing the song His father Beeri used to sing. Sometimes the tune and truth would bring Him peace, and he would pause and look At all the turns the Jordan took, To make its way down to the sea, And he would chant from memory:
Think not, my son, that God’s great river Of love flows simply to the sea, He aims not straight, but to deliver The wayward soul like you and me. Follow the current where it goes, With love and grace it ever flows. The years went by, the children grew, The river bent and Gomer knew A dozen men. And finally She left and traveled to the sea, And sold herself to foreign priests Who made the children serve at feasts Until they had no shame. And then The God of grace came down again, And said, “Hosea, go, embrace Your wife beside the sea. And place Your hand with blessing on the head Of Loammi, and raise the dead Loruhamah to life in me, And tell Jezreel that I will be For him a seed of hope to sow In righteousness. Hosea, go, The gracious river bends once more.”
And so the prophet loved these four Again, and sought them by the sea, And bought them with the equity Of everything he owned. That was The memory tonight, because Hosea loved beyond the way Of mortal man. What man would say, “Love grows more strong when it must wait, And deeper when it’s almost hate.”
Jezreel spoke softly for the rest, “Father, once more let us be blessed. What were the words from long ago That gave you strength to love us so? Would you please bless us with your rhyme, And sing it for us one more time?”
“Think not, my son, that God’s great river Of love flows simply to the sea, He aims not straight, but to deliver The wayward soul like you and me. Follow the current where it goes. With love and grace it ever flows.” “And children,” Gomer said with tears, “Mark this, the miracle of years.” She looked Hosea in the face And said, “Hosea, man of grace, Dark harlotry was in my blood, Until your love became a flood Cascading over my crude life And kept me as your only wife. I love the very ground you trod, And most of all I love your God.”
This is the lamp of candle four: A bride made ready at the door. A shabby slave waits her embrace, Blood-bought and beautified by grace.
Last week, a great tree was felled at the edge of our Motherhouse lawn. Having stood for decades near the Guardian Angel, it had shaded many generations on their way to Mercy: students, staff, visitors, and the Sisters themselves on their many ins and outs to this common home.
The whole community which gathers here daily felt a pang at the hewing, knowing that we had shared the very breath of this tree for so long. Its leafy embrace offered us a place to cool in the present, a way to remember the beauty of the past, and a security about the future. Seeing it disassembled by necessity gave a bittersweet pain. But there was a peace in knowing that our tree had come to completion with honor and dignity.
We drew so much from the presence of that tree, but perhaps we can draw even more from its absence. The lines of Gregory Norbet’s hymn “Hosea” come to mind:
Trees do bend, though straight and tall. So must we to others’ call Long have I waited for your coming home to me, And living deeply our new life.
Our tree, even in its retreat, still speaks to us – a truth becoming profoundly evident these days as we mourn the passing of our sister and friend Marie Ann Ellmer. She stood straight and tall among us, but another call came precipitously in the early morning last week.
When a beloved dies, one with whom we drew the same breath and hope, part of us dies. Whether a great tree or a magnanimous soul, they take something with them of the life we shared. When we mourn them, it is that which is taken that we pine for. But as we fold their lives under Love’s eternal blanket, it is that which they have left us that gives joyful peace.
That glorious tree and dear Marie Ann seem to be one now in the solemn aura that follows death. Both, in rare beauty, brought others to the precious gift of Mercy. Both remain treasured in its Everlasting Power. And both have given back to Creation the blessed graces that made them shine among us.
Everyone who listens to these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and buffeted the house. But it did not collapse; it had been set solidly on rock. Matthew 7:24-25
When the storm comes, who doesn’t want their house to be built on rock – steady, constant, imperturbable ROCK! But take a good look at the picture above. How hard do you think it was for the builders to:
penetrate that rock for a new foundation
transport and maintain building materials on to that precipice
Jesus recognizes that such commitment is not easy, but the rewards are incomparable. He teaches the people that empty proclamations will not sustain a spiritual life. Such stability is achieved only by committed “building” – by opening ourselves to God’s word and acting on it.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
We pray for the courage and vision to sincerely engage God’s word by our actions for mercy and justice.
Poetry: Psalm 18 – interpreted by Christine Robinson
I open my heart to you, O God for you are my strength, my fortress, the rock on whom I build my life. I have been lost in my fears and my angers caught up in falseness, fearful, and furious I cried to you in my anguish. You have brought me to an open space. You saved me because you took delight in me.
I try to be good, to be just, to be generous to walk in your ways. I fail, but you are my lamp. You make my darkness bright With your help, I continue to scale the walls and break down the barriers that fragment me. I would be whole, and happy, and wise and know your love Always.
Music: O Lord, My Rock and My Redeemer – Prayers of the Saints Alive
Lavish Mercy 