Caritas Christi Urget Nos

Author: Father Pat Mulcahy

  • St. Scholastica, Virgin

    St. Scholastica, Virgin

    Today’s readings: Songs 8:6-7, Psalm 148, Luke 10:38-42

    Today’s Saint (more)

    scholasticaWe are told in the Gospel today that “Mary has taken the better part and it will not be taken from her.” Much the same could be said about St. Scholastica, whose memorial we celebrate today. St. Scholastica is known as the sister of St. Benedict. Some traditions speak of them as twins. St. Gregory tells us that Benedict ruled over both monks and nuns, and it seems as if St. Scholastica was the prioress of the nuns.

    Often times we have heard about siblings who are very close in kinship, particularly if they are twins, so close that they know each other’s thoughts and share each other’s emotions. Not much is known of St. Scholastica except what we have from St. Gregory, and his account tells us of a spiritual kinship between she and Benedict that was extremely close. They would often meet together, but could never do so in their respective cloisters, so each would travel with some of their confreres and meet at a house nearby. On one occasion, the last of these meetings together, they were speaking as they often did of the glories of God and the promise of Heaven. Perhaps knowing that she would not have this opportunity again, Scholastica begged her brother not to leave but to spend the night in this spiritual conversation. Benedict did not like the idea of being outside his monastery for the night, and initially refused. With that, Scholastica laid her head on her hands and asked God to intercede. Her prayer had scarcely ended when a very violent storm arose, preventing Benedict’s return to the monastery. He said: “God forgive you, sister; what have you done?” She replied, “I asked a favor of you and you refused it. I asked it of God, and He has granted it.”

    Three days later, Scholastica died. St. Benedict was alone at the time, and had a vision of his sister’s soul ascending to heaven as a dove. He announced her death to his brethren and then gave praise for her great happiness. Like Mary in today’s Gospel and like St. Scholastica, we are called to spend our days and nights in contemplation of our Lord and discussing his greatness with our brothers and sisters. If we would do this, we too might find as the writer of the Song of Songs that deep waters cannot quench the great love we have for Christ and for our brothers and sisters in Christ.

  • Thursday of the Fifth Week of Ordinary Time

    Thursday of the Fifth Week of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    Today’s Scriptures speak of the dignity and importance of women in the life of the world and of the Church. The first reading, of course, speaks of the creation of the first woman. She is not named, but is referred to as “woman” because “out of “her man’ this one has been taken.” The story is familiar: the man is put into a deep sleep and one of his ribs is taken and closed up with flesh. From this rib bone, the woman is fashioned. That the woman was formed from part of the man indicates the close partnership that exists between them: they are of one and the same flesh, created by one and the same God. This act of creation also creates a very important partnership: men and women are meant to be together, and their union is a sacramental sign of the life, breath, love and creating power of God.

    The second woman we meet is the Syrophoenician woman in today’s Gospel. The Gospels have a male-centric view that tends to say little about women, but this woman makes an impression. Her faith that Jesus can heal her daughter, and her persistence that he would hear her prayer, give us a model for our spiritual lives. For us disciples, a strong faith in Christ means never questioning his ability to act for our good, and never letting anything – not even the technicalities of a perceived mission – get in the way of acting on that faith. We too are called to steadfast faith, and persistent prayer.

    It is only with the creation of the woman that the creation of the world and all that is in it is complete. The woman completes God the Creator’s vision for the world, and now everything and everyone is in place for the praise and glory of God. Looking at the women in today’s Liturgy of the Word, we should give praise for the completeness of God’s creating power, and renew our faith and the persistence of our life of prayer.

  • St. Agatha, Virgin and Martyr

    St. Agatha, Virgin and Martyr

    Today's readings | Today's saint (more)

     

    agatha.jpgHistorically speaking, we know almost nothing about St. Agatha other than the fact that she was martyred in Sicily during the persecution of Decius in the third century.  Legend has it that Agatha was arrested as a Christian, tortured and sent to a house of prostitution to be mistreated. She was preserved from being violated, and was later put to death.  When Agatha was arrested, the legend says, she prayed: “Jesus Christ, Lord of all things! You see my heart, you know my desires. Possess all that I am—you alone. I am your sheep; make me worthy to overcome the devil.” And in prison, she said: “Lord, my creator, you have protected me since I was in the cradle. You have taken me from the love of the world and given me patience to suffer. Now receive my spirit.”

     

    The stories of the early virgin martyrs like Agatha do two things.  First, they remind us of the unsurpassed greatness of a relationship with Christ.  If they could believe in Christ when it would have been so much easier—and life-saving—to do so, then how can we turn away from God in the trying moments of our own lives, those trials which pale in comparison to the martyrdom they suffered?  But even those relatively minor sufferings which we may bear can be the source of our salvation.  We should look to the saints like Agatha to intercede for us that we may patiently bear our sufferings and so give honor and glory to God.  Second, these stories always point to Christ.  Even though we could get caught up in honoring a saint who stood fast for the faith to death, still that same saint would have us instead be caught up in honoring Christ, the one who was their hope and salvation. 

     

    May our prayer in good times and bad always be the same as that of Agatha:  “Possess all that I am—you alone.”

     

  • Fifth Sunday of Ordinary Time

    Fifth Sunday of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    Have you ever felt like you were in deep water? Have you taken on a project that seemed simple enough until you got into it and then you wondered what got you into this mess in the first place? Those of you who are parents, when you have had a particularly rough day, have you wondered why you became parents at all? At work, have you gotten involved in something that became bigger and bigger every time you looked at it and you wondered how it ever got that way? Those of you who are or have been students, have you wondered whatever possessed you to strive for higher education when cramming for an exam or rushing to finish a paper? I imagine all of us could think of a time when we felt like we were in over our heads, and so Jesus’ command to Peter – to put out into deep water – may have for us a rather ominous ring.

    But we disciples are constantly invited to put out into ever-deepening water. I’ve said before that God never says to us “hey, here’s something easy you could do for me.” The truth is, whatever we are called to do is always going to be beyond us in some ways. If that weren’t the case, well, then we’d have to wonder if the call were really authentic. If everything comes real easy and there are never any challenges to what you’re doing, then you don’t have to rely on God’s grace, do you? That’s the truth about grace. We’re always going to need it, and if we are faithful, it’s always going to be there. So, although putting out into deep water will certainly be more than we can handle, it’s never going to be more than God can handle. All we have to do is rely on him.

    Today’s Scriptures provide us with three different vocation stories. Isaiah, Paul, and the first disciples all relate the stories of their being called to put out into deep water. These stories tell how all of them were changed, little by little, so that they could become the disciples they were created to be. They all receive a call, their unworthiness is noted, grace is received, and they, well, they put out into deep water.

    Isaiah’s call, from our first reading today, came in a vision. This vision takes place in the context of the heavenly worship, and is certainly awesome, or maybe even a little frightening, to imagine. Isaiah exclaims “Woe is me!” and proclaims that he is completely unworthy: a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips. His unworthiness has been anticipated and a remedy is ready: an ember from the altar is used to purify his lips. After this, the Lord asks who will go to proclaim God’s word, and Isaiah enthusiastically responds, “Here I am, send me!”

    In the second reading, we hear about the call of St. Paul. As we know about St. Paul, his call came through a miraculous – and frightening – event that happened on his way to Damascus. He was struck down with a great light, and made blind. Paul’s call to be a disciple is described in our second reading as one that happened in the line of revelation. Christ is revealed as risen from the dead and appears first to Peter, then the apostles, then to some five hundred witnesses and finally to Paul himself. Paul too is certainly unworthy: he was the persecutor of the Christians and even participated in the stoning of St. Stephen. But that unworthiness has been anticipated, and God’s effective grace makes him what he is: a worthy apostle of Christ. With that grace, Paul has then toiled harder than anyone, and made Christ known all over the world.

    In today’s Gospel reading, we have the beautiful story of the call of Peter, James and John, the first of the apostles. Here, the Lord comes to Peter in a boat … a symbol of his everyday life and work. The call itself takes place in a setting of Jesus’ preaching. Just like Isaiah and Paul, these first apostles are unworthy. They are fishermen by trade, and have caught nothing all night long. (Not easy for a bunch of fishermen to admit!) But their unworthiness has been anticipated, and Jesus provides for them a miraculously great catch of fish … a catch that threatens to sink two boats and takes all hands on deck to bring in. Jesus then assures them that this catch is nothing compared to the people they will be gathering in for the kingdom. They respond as enthusiastically as Isaiah and Paul: they leave everything they have known: family, work and home, and follow Jesus.

    The call of all these men has much in common. First, their calls take place in a particular context: for Isaiah, a vision of great heavenly worship; for Paul, a setting of revelation; and for Peter, James and John, a setting of preaching. Second, God meets them all right where they are at. In the everydayness of their lives, they come to know the call to put out into deep water. Third, they are all completely unworthy of the call. The first apostles aren’t even good at their current job! But fourth, God anticipates their unworthiness and provides the grace to overcome it. Indeed, it is that unworthiness that makes it necessary for all of them to rely on God, because God’s grace is the only way to overcome that unworthiness. Finally, the call is presented and each of them responds enthusiastically, giving all they can give, perhaps getting in a little over their heads, relying on God’s grace, and doing great things for the kingdom.

    We are the successors to these great disciples. We too are called out of the everydayness of our lives, with God meeting us right where we are. We are all of us completely unworthy of the call that we receive. But we are all drenched in God’s grace which more than makes up for everything we lack. The question is: will we respond as enthusiastically as Isaiah, Paul, Peter, James and John? Will we put out into deep water? Or will we hold back fearing that we will get in over our heads?

    Our baptism calls us all to be disciples, brothers and sisters in Christ. If we are to grow in faith, hope and love, we must be willing to take that risk and put out into deep water – because no other response is appropriate! We must bring our boats to shore, leave everything, and follow Christ. Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.

  • Thursday of the Fourth Week of Ordinary Time

    Thursday of the Fourth Week of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    Fr. Ted quotes this reading often to point out that that two of us are like those Jesus sent out to preach repentance in today’s Gospel. Usually that means more work for me!

    But in this short reading from Mark, Jesus tells us three things about our mission as disciples. First, we don’t do it alone. Ministry is never something that we do by ourselves. True ministry is never a matter of our personal preference or even of what we personally think should be done. True ministry is a calling, and that calling involves the whole Church. We can’t be disciples all by ourselves. That fact helps to keep us authentic, and it also gives us support. Jesus sent them out two by two for a reason.

    Second, we can’t be too worried about what we take with us on the journey. Too much stuff just weighs us down and keeps us from doing what we are called to do. And if we make sure we have everything we’ll ever need for the journey, then we don’t have to rely on God. Which is totally backwards, because all we need for the journey is God anyway! With God’s presence on the journey, we will never be without anything we need.

    Finally, the mission is about repentance and conversion. Now, just as it was back then, the need for conversion in our world is huge. We are the ones who need to call people to repentance by living authentic lives and by speaking the truth in love. It is our calling to be the voice calling people back to the Lord.

    Our mission is to call people to repentance by living authentic lives within the community of the Church, trusting in God for the words and the grace. If we would not be afraid to do that, we too could drive out many demons in Jesus’ name.

  • Monday of the Fourth Week of Ordinary Time

    Monday of the Fourth Week of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    We could look at today’s Gospel reading as an interesting miracle story of Jesus casting a demon out of a long-possessed man. But I think we should dig a little deeper than that this morning. Because many of us, I think, have to tangle with the unclean spirit from the tombs that infests us from time to time. If you’ve been in that situation, you probably can relate to having chained that spirit down with mighty strong chains, only to have them smashed to pieces. Then that unclean spirit starts crying out once again and injuring us in the process.

    For some, that demon is some kind of addiction. Or perhaps it’s a pattern of sin. Maybe it’s an unhealthy relationship. Whatever it is, there is nothing we can do to stop it all on our own. None of us is strong enough to subdue it. It is instructive that, when Jesus asks the demon what his name is, the demon responds in the plural: “we are Legion.” Indeed, legion are the demons that can torment us, legion are the past hurts and resentments, legion are the sins, legion are the broken relationships.

    When we find ourselves in that state of affairs, we have to know that human power is useless to subdue our demons. We have to do the only thing that works, which is to beg Jesus to cast those demons out. I often tell people in Confession that it’s okay to pray for yourself and that God doesn’t expect us to subdue our demons on our own. Jesus is longing to cast out our legion demons, all we have to do is ask. The voice of the psalmist today sums up the peace that can come from this Gospel: “Let your hearts take comfort, all who hope in the Lord.

  • Fourth Sunday of Ordinary Time: Speaking the Truth in Love

    Fourth Sunday of Ordinary Time: Speaking the Truth in Love

    Today’s Readings

    Today’s opening prayer gave us a kind of theme for today’s Liturgy of the Word. That theme is love. Listen to the words of that prayer again: “Lord our God, help us to love you with all our hearts, and to love all people as you love them…” That could well be a morning prayer for all of us, every single day. But it’s the implications of that kind of love that unfold in today’s readings. Love is not just some warm, fuzzy feeling that we have for those closest to us. Love is instead a way of life, modeled on God who is love itself. This love is a love that is sacrificial in nature, a love that expresses itself in prophecy, a love that will never pass away. We hear that in the preface to our Eucharistic prayer today which says that “So great was your love that you gave us your Son as our redeemer.”

    Today’s second reading from St. Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians is very familiar to many of us. If you’ve been to a wedding where that was not one of the readings, you were at a very rare wedding indeed! It’s easy to see why so many couples would choose that reading: the romantic nature of the love they have for one another wants a reading as sweet and beautiful as this to be proclaimed at their wedding. But I always tell them that they should be careful of what they’re asking for. Because the love that St. Paul speaks of is not something that you feel, it’s more something that you do. Or, even better, something that you are.

    Because, in any relationship, love is a choice. If it were just a feeling that you automatically had for someone close to you, it would be so much easier. If love happened automatically like that, there would be no abusive relationships. Young people would never turn away from their families. Parents would never neglect their children. Spouses would never separate. We wouldn’t need the sixth commandment, because no one would ever thing to commit adultery. Priests would never leave the priesthood because their love for their congregations and the Church would stop them from any other thoughts. But love isn’t that way, is it?

    And that’s why St. Paul has to tell the Corinthians – and us too! – that love is patient, kind, not jealous, and all the rest. In fact, that passage from St. Paul defines love in fifteen different ways. Because love absolutely has to address pomposity, inflated egos, rudeness, self-indulgence, and much more. All of us, no matter what our state of life, must make a choice to love every single day. If you are married, you have to choose to love your spouse; if you are a parent, you have to choose to love your children. Children must choose to love their parents; priests have to choose to love their congregations, and the list goes on. Love is the most beautiful thing in the world, but love is also hard work.

    As today’s Liturgy of the Word unfolds, we can see that love – true love – makes demands on us, demands that may in fact make us unpopular. In the first reading, Jeremiah is told that he was known and loved by God even before he was formed in his mother’s womb. That love demanded of him that he roll up his sleeves and be a prophet to the nations. God tells him that his prophecy won’t be accepted by everybody, that the people would fight against him. But even so, Jeremiah was to stand up to them and say everything that God commanded him, knowing that God would never let him be crushed, nor would God let the people prevail over Jeremiah.

    For Jesus, it was those closest to him who rejected him. In the Gospel today, while the people in the synagogue were initially amazed at his gracious words, soon enough they were asking “Isn’t this the son of Joseph?” as if to say, “Who is he to be talking to us this way?” When Jesus tells them that his ministry will make God’s love known to the Gentiles – those whom God had supposedly not chosen – it is then that they rise up and drive him out of the city, presumably to stone him to death.

    Prophets are unpopular. It is the prophets’ love for God and for the people they are called to serve that stirs them into action. St. Paul tells us that love “does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices in the truth.” Speaking that truth to others can be incredibly difficult. It was for Jeremiah, who proclaimed God’s word to people who had no intention of hearing it. It was difficult also for Jesus, who proclaimed God’s word to people who were close to him and thought he shouldn’t be correcting them. Jesus eventually had to give his life to witness to the truth, and to proclaim the unending power of God’s love.

    We are called by our baptism to be prophetic people. We may be called to speak out to our elected officials in order for them to take notice of the needs of their constituents. We may be called to speak out in our workplaces in order for businesses to be successful and responsive to their communities. We may need to speak out in our churches so that the baptized will respond to God’s grace and live the Gospel. We may be called to speak out in our families to keep our loved ones on the right path.

    What is tragically frustrating for all of us prophetic people, though, is that like Jeremiah and Jesus, our words may go unheeded, or even be unwelcome. But like Jeremiah, we must be encourages to persevere in our ministry, knowing that we must speak the truth as God has given it to us. We know that many who hear our words will fight against us but not prevail over us, for God is always with us to deliver us. Our baptism demands that we always speak the truth in love, regardless of whether those words are welcome or unwelcome. When our prophetic voices are grounded in love we know that we are speaking the truth, because, as St. Paul tells us, “faith, hope and love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”

  • The Conversion of St. Paul

    The Conversion of St. Paul

    Today’s readings | today’s feast

    If we think that we are the ones who get to determine the direction of our lives, we are dead wrong.

    Look at Saul: educated in all the finest Jewish schools, well-versed in the Law and the Prophets, and zealous for the faith to a fault. He was absolutely the model Jewish man and had credentials that came directly from the high priests. Everyone knew of him, and his fame – or infamy – spread all over the Judean countryside. He had participated in the stoning of St. Stephen, letting the cloaks of the ones stoning him be piled at his feet. He was bringing all the followers of Christ back in chains to be tried and punished for following this new way. He was even on his way to Damascus to collect “the brothers” – the apostles – and put them on trial. The man was greatly feared.

    Look at Ananias. He was no fool. He was well-acquainted with Saul’s evil plans and did everything he could to stay out of his path. He obviously wanted to stay out of prison, but more than that, he wanted to keep people like Saul from destroying the community of the followers of Jesus. Ananias was every bit as zealous for the faith as Saul was.

    They both knew the direction of their lives and thought they had it all planned out. But they were dead wrong.

    God can take the most zealous and stable of us and throw our whole lives into confusion. He sometimes uses great means to get our attention and move us in a new direction. Like a bright light, or a vision. But sometimes he uses quiet words in prayer or the gentle nudging of a friend. Conversion is a life-long process for all of us, and in St. Paul’s and Annanias’s stories, we can see the danger of being too entrenched in what we think is right. The only judge of what is really right for us is God alone, and when we forget that, we might be in for a rude awakening.

    The whole purpose of all of our lives, brothers and sisters, is to “Go into the whole world and proclaim the Gospel to every creature.” The way that we do that is to constantly listen for God’s voice and always be willing to go wherever he leads us.