Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, our Responsorial Verse captures the essence of all the readings:
It’s one of those scripture passages that makes one want to say, “Oh, really? Is that all?”
Because, you know, it’s a pretty tall order to remain faithful until death. Sometimes it’s a real pinch to remain faithful for a week!
Remember that exercise bike you bought in January 2020? Yeah, that one with your yoga pants, umbrella, and assorted tote bags hanging on it.
Or what about that South Beach diet book you’re using to prop open the closet door? How did all that faithfulness work out?
So, given our very human condition, what is the “faithfulness” these readings enjoin?
I believe it is not a faithfulness that never fails.
Rather, it tries. When it does fail, it believes in and seeks forgiveness. It trusts, even in its weakness. It is grateful, abiding, and loving. It is not afraid to begin again and again, because our faithfulness depends on God’s mercy not our strength.
When we were young nuns making our final vows, this phrase was part of our commitment:
“… and to persevere, until death …”
One of our wise leaders, Mother Bernard, told us, “Don’t pray for final perseverance. Pray to be worthy of it.”
I think we become worthy of perseverance by that trusting faithfulness which turns again and again into Mercy’s waiting, understanding arms. It is a faithfulness that fully believes these words from the Book of Lamentations:
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; God’s mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; so great is your faithfulness.
Lamentations 3: 22-23
Poetry: What God Hath Promised – Annie Johnson Flint (1866-1932) was born in Vineland, NJ. Incapacitated by severe arthritis, she started composing religious poetry, and became “a renowned writer across the Christian world.” Her popular poems include He Giveth More Grace and Christmas Carols, which were published in Christian Endeavour World and Sunday School Times. (Wikipedia)
God hath not promised skies always blue, Flower strewn pathways all our lives through; God hath not promised sun without rain, Joy without sorrow, peace without pain.
But God hath promised strength for the day, Rest for the labor, light for the way, Grace for the trials, help from above, Unfailing sympathy, undying love.
Music: Great Is Thy Faithfulness – Westminster Abbey
This is probably not the most perfect rendition of this beautiful hymn, but I just love seeing all these various people singing their praise. Imagine all of the stories and histories of faith woven through this worshipping congregation — and each one of them grateful for God’s faithfulness. As Catherine McAuley would say, “Oh what a joy even to think of it!”
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we are struck, once again, with Revelation’s images of the end time!
a crowned Christ wielding a sharp sickle
angels commanding the final harvest of the earth
and perhaps the most powerful
the earth’s vintage thrown into the great winepress of God’s fury!
This author could write! We can almost imagine the scene, filmed with all the pyro-technics of today’s computer age.
But besides the amazing imagery, what does the passage say to our hearts?
In Biblical symbolism, the winepress almost always stands for judgment. The passage reminds us that we all will be judged. The divine winepress will compress the sinful gaps that plague our human existence. In the end time, there will be no “other” — no judgmental spaces separating us from one another. We will all be one, like wine mingled.
We will be judged on how we lived that oneness in this life, on where we have stood in the worldly gap between the:
rich and poor
well and sick
citizen and refugee
abled and disabled
powerful and vulnerable
The questions for us as we pray today amy be these:
Do we live in ignorance or indifference to those who suffer on the other side of the human scale?
Have we been impervious to the imbalances of justice and charity in this world?
And how do we respond?
The passage suggests that we do some weeding of our spiritual gardens before the harvest of our souls. The intention of this fiery writer is to tell us that we still have a little time to do so.
Poetry: Barnfloor and Winepress – Gerard Manley Hopkins
And he said, If the Lord do not help thee, whence shall I help thee? out of the barnfloor, or out of the winepress? 2 Kings VI: 27
Thou that on sin's wages starvest, Behold we have the joy in harvest: For us was gather'd the first fruits, For us was lifted from the roots, Sheaved in cruel bands, bruised sore, Scourged upon the threshing-floor; Where the upper mill-stone roof'd His head, At morn we found the heavenly Bread, And, on a thousand altars laid, Christ our Sacrifice is made!
Thou whose dry plot for moisture gapes, We shout with them that tread the grapes: For us the Vine was fenced with thorn, Five ways the precious branches torn; Terrible fruit was on the tree In the acre of Gethsemane; For us by Calvary's distress The wine was racked from the press; Now in our altar-vessels stored Is the sweet Vintage of our Lord.
In Joseph's garden they threw by The riv'n Vine, leafless, lifeless, dry: On Easter morn the Tree was forth, In forty days reach'd heaven from earth; Soon the whole world is overspread; Ye weary, come into the shade.
The field where He has planted us Shall shake her fruit as Libanus, When He has sheaved us in His sheaf, When He has made us bear his leaf. - We scarcely call that banquet food, But even our Saviour's and our blood, We are so grafted on His wood.
Music: The Day Is Surely Drawing Near – written by the prolific 16th century Lutheran hymnist Bartholomaüs Ringwaldt. This piece is a majestic instrumental rendering, but if you would like to see the words, they are below.
1 The day is surely drawing near When Jesus, God’s anointed, In all His power shall appear As judge whom God appointed. Then fright shall banish idle mirth, And flames on flames shall ravage earth As Scripture long has warned us.
2 The final trumpet then shall sound And all the earth be shaken, And all who rest beneath the ground Shall from their sleep awaken. But all who live will in that hour, By God’s almighty, boundless pow’r, Be changed at His commanding.
3 The books are opened then to all, A record truly telling What each has done, both great and small, When he on earth was dwelling, And ev’ry heart be clearly seen, And all be known as they have been In thoughts and words and actions.
4 Then woe to those who scorned the Lord And sought but carnal pleasures, Who here despised His precious Word And loved their earthly treasures! With shame and trembling they will stand And at the judge’s stern command To Satan be delivered.
5 My Savior paid the debt I owe And for my sin was smitten; Within the Book of Life I know My name has now been written. I will not doubt, for I am free, And Satan cannot threaten me; There is no condemnation!
6 May Christ our intercessor be And through His blood and merit Read from His book that we are free With all who life inherit. Then we shall see Him face to face, With all His saints in that blest place Which He has purchased for us.
7 O Jesus Christ, do not delay, But hasten our salvation; We often tremble on our way In fear and tribulation. O hear and grant our fervent plea; Come, mighty judge, and make us free From death and ev’ry evil.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, our first reading from Revelation describes what has come to be known in modern culture as “the Rapture”. It’s a concept probably more popularized by modern fiction than by our devotion to scripture.
Maybe you are one of the 60 million readers of the “Left Behind” books by Jenkins and LaHaye. This popular series captures our fascination with “the end times”.
The writer of Revelation is doing the same thing. This highly imaginative ancient author – adept at symbols, allegory, and poetry – writes to awake and engage us in our own salvation.
Whether or not his visions predict facts is not the point. The point is that there will come an end time to every life. When it comes to us, we want to have already become God’s familiar and beloved friend.
A second point is that this world, as we know it, is passing. We should not make our heart’s investment here. Our lasting treasure lies in God’s realm which, while present here, is often rendered invisible by our human hungers and distractions.
Revelation enjoins us to wake up, see beyond the visible, and live a life worthy of eternity.
How? The true and simple answer is in today’s Gospel:
“When Jesus looked up he saw some wealthy people putting their offerings into the treasure and he noticed a poor widow putting in two small coins. He said, “I tell you truly, this poor widow put in more than all the rest; for those others have all made offerings from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has offered her whole livelihood.”
This blessed widow, even in her impoverished circumstances, understood where her true treasure lay. She was already counted among the sainted “hundred and forty-four thousand”.
Poetry: The Rapture – Mary Oliver
All summer I wandered the fields that were thickening every morning,
every rainfall, with weeds and blossoms, with the long loops of the shimmering, and the extravagant-
pale as flames they rose and fell back, replete and beautiful- that was all there was-
and I too once or twice, at least, felt myself rising, my boots
touching suddenly the tops of the weeds, the blue and silky air- listen, passion did it,
called me forth, addled me, stripped me clean then covered me with the cloth of happiness-
I think there is no other prize, only rapture the gleaming, rapture the illogical the weightless-
whether it be for the perfect shapeliness of something you love- like an old German song- or of someone-
or the dark floss of the earth itself, heavy and electric. At the edge of sweet sanity open such wild, blind wings.
Music: When I read these apocalyptic passages, I like to imagine the scene by listening to compatible music. One of my favorite accompaniments is Richard Wagner: Ride of the Valkyries. Just imagine Jesus riding into our lives on these exalted melodies!
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we celebrate the Solemnity of Christ the King. This feast was established in 1925 by Pope Pius XI by his encyclical Quas Primas. The Pope was acutely aware of the secularization of society and culture. He wanted this feast and devotion to bring people a deep awareness that Christ is the center of all Creation.
The images, language and metaphors surrounding the feast are ones that spoke to the people in the early 20th century. They may ring differently to us. Concepts of “king”, “empire”, “dominion”, “subjection” tend to engender negative connotations for many of us. But our readings today can direct us to a deeper understanding of the characteristics Pius sought to highlight, ones that may speak more clearly to us in our time.
Our first reading from Samuel presents the anointing of David as King of Israel. Anointed by those who were “his own bone and flesh”, David prefigured the Incarnate Christ who, by the power of the Holy Spirit, took our flesh to redeem us.
The magnificent passage from Colossians offers exultant praise to the Creator for
…delivering us from the power of darkness and transferring us to the kingdom of the beloved Son, in whom we have redemption …
And our Gospel gives us our precious Jesus on the Cross, teaching us the paradoxical truth of what his “Kingdom” really means – not oppressive dominion, but rather a sacrificial love that gives everything for the life of the beloved.
Van Eyck’s painting of Christ King and his follower Petrus Christus’s Christ Suffering (15th C.)
Many cannot recognize such “kingship”. They cannot see the holy power within Christ’s sacrifice. They are, as Pius XI recognized for his time, blinded by a secularized culture and a dispirited life.
Let us pray today with the “justly condemned”, but spiritually enlightened, man in our Gospel who asked his Crucified King,
“Lord Jesus, remember me when you come into Kingdom!”
Poetry: As Kingfishers Catch Fire – Gerard Manley Hopkins
As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell's
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves — goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I dó is me: for that I came.
I say móre: the just man justices;
Keeps grace: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God's eye what in God's eye he is —
Chríst — for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men's faces.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, our readings are challenging.
Revelation, a very complex book of the Bible, uses symbols, prophecies and allegorical references to make its point. There are huge bodies of scholarship written in the attempt to interpret these passages.
Our Gospel has Jesus describing what it will be like in heaven – when our human perceptions will be erased and we will finally be absorbed into God’s understanding.
These are BIG thoughts and my mind, at least, needs some more manageable inspirations for my morning prayer. So here’s how I prayed with these readings today.
What both passages share are continual references to time – past, present and future. They reference then-time, now-time, and to-be-time. These passages, and others in Scripture like them, talk about time like this:
“in the days before” (then time)
“in the days after” (to -be time)
“in the day of” (now time)
So what is this day, November 19th, for me? How is God revealing Love to me in this, my time?
Today is among “the days after” the last memorable thing that happened in my life – maybe a good thing, maybe not so much. In “the days after”, we spend time with a completed event – learning, savoring, or perhaps regretting and recovering. The “days after” are a time to pray for grace and blessing over what cannot be changed.
Today is also among “the days before” the next big events of my life. So my prayer includes a petition for new and continued courage, hope and enthusiasm for life.
And, most importantly, today is “a day of”. I ask God to help me see and receive the graces of this present moment – not to miss them because I am looking only back or forward. Let me look God square in the eye on this day, which is the only place that I can really find the God Who is always Now.
The entire liturgical year is built on this understanding of time.
Advent and Lent are “the days before”, the days of preparation, anticipation, imagining, creating, hoping.
The feasts like Christmas, Easter and Pentecost are “the days of”, days of celebrating, loving, being with.
The various Octaves are “the days after”, days of remembering, thanking, appreciating, understanding, mourning, forgiving and savoring
Where are you today in the times of your life? It may be in a very different place from what is printed on the calendar. The events of our lives create their own personal liturgies.
No matter where that happens to be, let us meet God there with full and open hearts.
Poetry: from Burnt Norton by T.S. Eliot
Time present and time past Are both perhaps present in time future, And time future contained in time past. If all time is eternally present All time is unredeemable. What might have been is an abstraction Remaining a perpetual possibility Only in a world of speculation. What might have been and what has been Point to one end, which is always present. Footfalls echo in the memory Down the passage which we did not take Towards the door we never opened Into the rose-garden. My words echo Thus, in your mind. But to what purpose Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves I do not know. Other echoes Inhabit the garden. Shall we follow?
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we pray with our longest Psalm 119.
This morning, we take one little morsel from its extended string of reflections :
The word “promise” can evoke a range of responses from us. Indeed, they are sweet as the psalmist says. But they can also be elusive, ephemeral, and easily broken. I know I’ve have made a few promises in my lifetime that have fizzled away unfulfilled. Haven’t you?
On the other hand, there are some promises, kept, that have rooted and defined my life. These, made in the bud, have blossomed in a long, tendered fidelity. They have dug the deep roots of trust for the essential relationships of my life with God, beloved neighbor, and all Creation.
Such vital promises can be made and kept when we act in the image of God, the loving and faithful Promise Keeper described in Psalm 119:
Your word, LORD, stands forever; it is firm as the heavens. Through all generations your truth endures; fixed to stand firm like the earth.Psalm 119: 89 – 90
Like the psalmist, we pray:
to be imitators of God who is always faithful.
to be promise-keepers in response to the trust God has placed in us by the gift of our creation.
to meditate on, and understand in our hearts, the divine order of God’s immutable Law of Love
Poetry: Psalm 119 – Christine Robinson
Dear God, The seed of your love is deep within every molecule of the universe, and it abides through time. The laws of the cosmos serve your purpose to the end. If I remember this, I can abide all manner of trouble. If I delight in this, it gives me life. I belong to you to my very core. Holding firm to that knowledge, I can live my life in love. All things will come to and end. And in the end all will be One My mind is filled with your Way Making me wise like a teacher or an elder. Mastering my life in your way gives me purpose. Many times I use it to guide my steps. My mouth waters and my heart softens to consider your Way.
Music: God Hath Not Promised – Annie Johnson Flint
This charming 19th century hymn captures the faithful spirit of it composer whose life, though beset by suffering, radiated faith and joy.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we pray with Psalm 149 which calls the community to sing and dance because God has delivered them.
This happy, celebratory summons is set, contrastingly, between two readings that mention weeping.
Then I saw a mighty angel who proclaimed in a loud voice, “Who is worthy to open the scroll and break its seals?” But no one in heaven or on earth or under the earth was able to open the scroll or to examine it. I shed many tears because no one was found worthy to open the scroll or to examine it.
Revelation 5: 2-4
As Jesus drew near Jerusalem, he saw the city and wept over it, saying, “If this day you only knew what makes for peace– but now it is hidden from your eyes.
Luke 19: 41-42
The readings leave us with a sense that there is a secret to eternal life – a secret to which only grace can open our eyes and hearts.
John writes that “the Lion of Judah” has the key:
One of the elders said to me, “Do not weep. The lion of the tribe of Judah, the root of David, has triumphed, enabling him to open the scroll with its seven seals.”
Revelation 5: 5-6
Jesus, Uncreated Grace, is the Lion of Judah. He has incarnated the sacred key in his Life, Death, and Resurrection. For those who receive him and share his life, the door is opened, the scroll unrolled.
So what is the path to such union with Jesus?
Our psalm contains a brief line tucked at its center which foreshadows the entire message of the Gospel.
Let them praise God’s name in the festive dance, let them sing praise with timbrel and harp. For the LORD loves us, and adorns the lowly with victory.
We will find a dancing, singing joy when we give ourselves to these truths:
God loves us irrevocably
We can fully receive this great love to the degree that we become like Christ whose image we find among the poor, lowly, and suffering.
Poetry: Dance from Rumi
Come to me, and I shall dance with you In the temples, on the beaches, through the crowded streets Be you man or woman, plant or animal, slave or free I shall show you the brilliant crystal fires, shining within I shall show you the beauty deep within your soul I shall show the path beyond Heaven. Only dance, and your illusions will blow in the wind Dance, and make joyous the love around you Dance, and your veils which hide the Light Shall swirl in a heap at your feet.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we move deeper into the final weeks of Ordinary Time. Our readings continue to offer us images about what it will be like at the end of time.
In our passage from Revelation, we are given an ornate and exuberant description of how the author envisions God’s “headquarters”, so to speak. With all its gems and thrones and crowns and flaming torches, the passage can be a little overwhelming. But what is the core message? I think it is this:
God is the Splendid Creator. Despite time’s destruction, Creation will be ultimately perfected by our Perfect God. Believing this, we are called to awe-filled worship and gratitude, as spoken in these two verses from the passage:
“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God almighty, who was, and who is, and who is to come.”
Revelation 4:8
“Worthy are you, Lord our God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things; because of your will they came to be and were created.”
Revelation 4:11
Today’s Gospel about the talents reminds us that we each have been given particular gifts with which to build up God’s Creation. Like the watchful Master, God expects – and needs – us to use these gifts, and to increase their value by sharing them with our sisters and brothers.
Sometimes we think we have no real gifts to give. But the witness of a simple, faithful, generous life is beyond price.
We may want to spend some prayer time reflecting on the many gifts we have been given – by God and by those who love us, and how we might offer these in worship to our Splendid Generous God.
Poetry: Advice to a Prophet – Richard Wilbur (1921 – 2017) was an American poet and literary translator. One of the foremost poets of his generation, Wilbur’s work, composed primarily in traditional forms, was marked by its wit, charm, and gentlemanly elegance. He was appointed the second Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress in 1987 and received the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry twice, in 1957 and 1989.
In Wilbur’s poem, we get a different vision of what the end of times might be like, and how we might respond to the prophet who describes such times.
When you come, as you soon must, to the streets of our city,
Mad-eyed from stating the obvious,
Not proclaiming our fall but begging us
In God's name to have self-pity,
Spare us all word of the weapons, their force and range,
The long numbers that rocket the mind;
Our slow, unreckoning hearts will be left behind,
Unable to fear what is too strange.
Nor shall you scare us with talk of the death of the race.
How should we dream of this place without us?—
The sun mere fire, the leaves untroubled about us,
A stone look on the stone's face?
Speak of the world's own change. Though we cannot conceive
Of an undreamt thing, we know to our cost
How the dreamt cloud crumbles, the vines are blackened by frost,
How the view alters. We could believe,
If you told us so, that the white-tailed deer will slip
Into perfect shade, grown perfectly shy,
The lark avoid the reaches of our eye,
The jack-pine lose its knuckled grip
On the cold ledge, and every torrent burn
As Xanthus once, its gliding trout
Stunned in a twinkling. What should we be without
The dolphin's arc, the dove's return,
These things in which we have seen ourselves and spoken?
Ask us, prophet, how we shall call
Our natures forth when that live tongue is all
Dispelled, that glass obscured or broken
In which we have said the rose of our love and the clean
Horse of our courage, in which beheld
The singing locust of the soul unshelled,
And all we mean or wish to mean.
Ask us, ask us whether with the worldless rose
Our hearts shall fail us; come demanding
Whether there shall be lofty or long standing
When the bronze annals of the oak-tree close.
Music: We Have Gifts to Share – Susan Kay Wyatts – This is a childlike song, but the point is profound. For those with young children and Grands, you might like to share this song with them.
Today in God’s Lavish Mercy, the author of Revelation says some pretty tough stuff in the name of God!
To the Church at Sardis: You have the reputation of being alive, but you are dead.
To the Church at Laodicea: Because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth.
As most of us know from experience, it’s never really easy to accept negative feedback. But, couched in gentle, encouraging tones, it can be accepted and acted on. John of Patmos, author of Revelation, missed that lesson in coaching techniques!
How effective his words were with the under-performing churches is a matter left to history. For us, they may perhaps inspire us to be more honest with ourselves regarding our vitality and ardor for the Gospel.
In our Gospel, Jesus takes a different approach to inspire repentance and commitment. His inclusive, forgiving words to Zaccheus proved very effective. Jesus doesn’t even address any shortcomings (not to make a pun) in Zaccheus.
He simply says, “Come down from your tree. I’m coming to your house for dinner.” In other words, I’m coming into your life — now what’s your response?
Zaccheus is radically changed by Jesus’s lavish mercy. He responds,
“Behold, half of my possessions, Lord, I shall give to the poor, and if I have extorted anything from anyone I shall repay it four times over.”
Today, we pray to have a simple, trusting faith. Sometimes, like Zaccheus, we get ourselves “up a tree”, all twisted and stretching to find God – or maybe to ignore God – in our lives. And all the time, God has been walking straight down the path of our heart, smiling at our efforts, planning to stay with us tonight, tomorrow and forever.
Poetry:AND HAVE YOU ALSO WISHED – Leonard Nathan (1924 – 2007) an American poet, critic, and professor emeritus of rhetoric at the University of California, Berkeley. Among other honors, he received the National Institute of Arts and Letters prize for poetry, a Guggenheim Fellowship, the Phelan Award for Narrative Poetry.
And have you also wished to leave the world of unforgiving surface and hard time, to enter mist and climb an autumn slope, becoming all but invisible below a gray and dripping baldachin of boughs that lead to the little clearing in the woods where much will be revealed, what love and dreams had promised before you woke and had to leave? And have you, even as you wished this all, passionately wished it, nevertheless continued in the old direction, stretching out and out to dust, foregone and trampled flat, because you were told to once or because—who knows— you said you would, or something shallow as that?