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Commentary on Isaiah 66:10-14; Matthew 18:1-5

The Gospel reading from Matthew speaks of those who are really great in the Kingdom of God. It is the beginning of the fourth discourse given by Jesus in this Gospel, a discourse which discusses the relationships between members of the Christian community.

As the reading opens, Jesus’ disciples approach him and ask who is the greatest in the Kingdom. Probably to their surprise, Jesus called over a small child and placed him among them. He then told them that unless they “change”, i.e. make a radical internal change in themselves, and become like little children, they will not be able to be part of the Kingdom. And what does becoming like a little child mean:

Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

What Jesus is emphasising here is a particular quality of a good child—docility, that is, openness to learn what is true and good. It is this docility towards God and his will for us that is most important for growth as a person and also in making one an effective influence for the good of other people.

Greatness, then, does not consist in great wealth, high intelligence, in power over other people, in high status or fame. It consists, as the Gospel will show elsewhere, in a spirit of dedicated love and service seeking always the well-being of other people.

Jesus also says in today’s reading that:

Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.

This is an exhortation for the follower of Jesus to reach out in love and care especially for those who are insignificant and weak in our society. In reaching out to them, we reach out to Jesus himself. Later, in this Gospel, Jesus will say:

Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did it to me. (Matt 24:40)

And, in the passages immediately following today’s reading, he will speak very strongly in condemnation of those who lead the small and the weak astray and away from God.

We can easily see why this reading was chosen for today’s feast. Thérèse was a young Sister living in the total seclusion of a Carmelite convent. In the eyes of the world, which neither knew or cared about her existence, she was a nobody. Yet, after her death, her real greatness in being a perfect child of Christ was revealed and she became a model and inspiration for thousands of people.

The First Reading is from the last chapter of the Book of Isaiah. The reading is part of a hymn to “Mother Zion”, that is, Jerusalem. Here, Jerusalem is taken as an image of God’s loving care for his people and should be read in the context of St Thérèse:

Rejoice with Jerusalem, and be glad for her,
all you who love her…that you may nurse and be satisfied
from her consoling breast;
that you may drink deeply with delight
from her glorious bosom.

This is a lovely description of the love that Thérèse had for her Lord from whom she received so much.

And again:

As a mother comforts her child,
so I will comfort you;
you shall be comforted in Jerusalem.

In a life that was not always easy, and one that ended in a lengthy illness, Thérèse found comfort in her Lord. In spite of her sufferings and through her sufferings she found Jesus close to her. Let us ask her that she may give us the courage to follow her example in our trials and difficulties.

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Marie Francoise Thérèse Martin was born on 2 January, 1873 at Alencon, southwest of Rouen in the north of France. She was the youngest daughter of Louis Martin, a watchmaker, and his wife, Zelie-Marie Guerin, a lacemaker, who died of breast cancer when Theresa was four years old. Both parents had wanted to enter religious life and, when they could not, hoped their children would do so. There were nine children, but only five girls survived.

Thérèse grew up in a traditional religious home having little contact with the world, typical of middle-class Catholicism of the time. In 1877, the family moved to Lisieux in Normandy, where an aunt helped to look after the girls and where Thérèse went to the Benedictine convent of Notre Dame du Pré. One after the other her elder sisters entered the Carmelite convent in Lisieux. At 15, after her sister Marie entered the convent, Thérèse tried follow her, but the superior of the convent would not allow it on account of her age. Later, her father took Thérèse on a pilgrimage to Rome and, during a general audience with Pope Leo XIII, she asked him to allow her to enter at 15, but the Pope said: “Well, my child, do what the superiors decide.” Soon after, the Bishop of Bayeux gave his consent for her to enter as a postulant in 1888. Her name in religion was Sister Thérèse of the Infant Jesus and of the Holy Face. The following year, 1894, her father suffered a stroke and died, and the fourth sister, who had been looking after him, was now able to enter the Carmel.

Not surprisingly, the overall description of Thérèse’s life is easily told. She followed the daily routine of a Carmelite sister from day to day, but did so with great commitment and devotion.

Apart from being made assistant to the novice mistress in 1893 at the age of 20, she never held any other significant responsibility in the community.

Thérèse is known for her “Little Way”. In her quest for sanctity, she realized that it was not necessary to accomplish heroic acts, or ‘great deeds’, in order to attain holiness and to express her love of God. She wrote:

Love proves itself by deeds, so how am I to show my love? Great deeds are forbidden me. The only way I can prove my love is by scattering flowers and these flowers are every little sacrifice, every glance and word, and the doing of the least actions for love.

Thérèse would later be known as the “Little Flower”.

Thérèse’s final years were marked by a steady decline that she bore without complaint. In 1895, she suffered a haemorrhage which was the first sign of the tuberculosis which was to bring about her early death. On the morning of Good Friday, 1896, she began bleeding at the mouth brought on by her pulmonary condition. Her TB had now taken a turn for the worse.

As a result, she was not able, as she had so dearly wanted, to offer herself for a Carmelite mission foundation in Hanoi, Vietnam (then French Indo-China). She remained at the Lisieux convent, accepting great suffering without complaint. In July 1897, she was moved to the convent infirmary, and just three months later died on 30 September, 1897 at age 24. On her death-bed, she is reported to have said:

I have reached the point of not being able to suffer any more, because all suffering is sweet to me.

Carmelite convent in Lisieux
It is most likely that, like most Sisters in her secluded situation, nothing more would have been heard of her. However, she had been told, under obedience to write a short spiritual autobiography now known as L’Histoire d’une Ame (The Story of a Soul). In 1895, she began writing a memoir of her childhood under instructions from her sister, Pauline, known in religious life as Mother Agnes of Jesus. While on retreat in September 1896, Thérèse wrote the second part, consisting of a letter to her eldest sister, Sister Marie of the Sacred Heart. In June 1897, when Mother Agnes realised the gravity of Thérèse’s illness, she immediately asked Mother Marie, the prioress, to allow Thérèse write another memoir with more details of her religious life. It was published after Thérèse’s death, after editing by her sister, Pauline (Mother Agnes).

The book became a religious best-seller of the 20th century, and was translated into most European languages. It was also a best seller in Asia as well. Its publication was accompanied by reports of miraculous cures and countless ‘favours’ granted through her intercession—and it is still in print.

Since 1973, further editions (including the original version of The Story of a Soul), her letters, poems, prayers, and plays she wrote for convent recreations have been published.

Pope Pius X signed the decree starting the process of canonization on 10 June, 1914. Pope Benedict XV, in an unusual move, dispensed with the usual 50-year delay required between death and beatification. On 14 August, 1921, he promulgated a decree on the heroic virtues of Thérèse and gave an address on Thérèse’s way of confidence and love, as a model for the whole Church.

Thérèse was beatified in April 1923, and canonized two years later, on 17 May, 1925, by Pope Pius XI, just 28 years after her death. Her feast day was added to the Catholic liturgical calendar in 1927, to be celebrated on October 3. In 1969, Pope Paul VI moved it to 1 October, the day after her death.

Thérèse of Lisieux is the patron saint of those with HIV-AIDS, aviators, florists and missions. In 1927, Pope Pius XI named her a patron of the missions (with St Francis Xavier) and in 1944, Pope Pius XII named her co-patroness of France (along with St Joan of Arc).

By the Apostolic Letter, Divini Amoris Scientia (The Science of Divine Love) of 19 October, 1997, Pope John Paul II declared her a Doctor of the Universal Church, one of only three women so named (the others being Teresa of Avila and Catherine of Siena). In fact, Thérèse was the only saint named as a Doctor of the Church during John Paul II’s pontificate.

While presenting a deceptively simple and even pious image, it is clear that Thérèse was very close to the message of the gospel and, in her sufferings, she showed a great spirit of courage, strength and self-sacrifice. Her interior asceticism was based on selfless and unconditional obedience rather than on simple exterior acts of penance.

The influence of her spirituality would lead many in her own convent, in her Order and in the Church generally to a greater appreciation of the asceticism arising from a faithful living out of ordinary community and daily life. In art Thérèse is represented in a Carmelite habit holding a bunch of roses in memory of her promise to “let fall a shower of roses” of miracles and other favours.

Some things which Thérèse said:

• I am a very little soul, who can offer only very little things to the Lord.
• I will spend my Heaven doing good on earth.
• After my death I will let fall a shower of roses.
• While desiring to be a priest, I admire and envy the humility of St Francis of Assisi and I feel the vocation of imitating him in refusing the sublime dignity of the priesthood.

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Commentary on 2 Timothy 3:14-17; Matthew 13:47-52

The Gospel reading is taken from Matthew. It is the end of chapter 13 which consists of a set of parables told by Jesus and all relating to the Kingdom of God (or Kingdom of Heaven, as Matthew prefers to say). It is the third of the five discourses given by Jesus that we find in Matthew’s Gospel.

The last parable speaks of the end of the world, the time of judgement. Jesus compares it to a net which fishermen cast into the sea. When they pull it in, they find there are fish they want to keep and others which they will throw away.

Jesus says that at the end of the world it will be like that. Those who are good will be set apart for eternal happiness while others will be rejected into a life of eternal suffering. It is important for us to realise that this choice is not really made by God, but by us.

During our life, we have the choice to be on the side of God, to walk the Way of life that Jesus has shown us—a life of love and service and mutual caring—the choice to say ‘Yes’ to Jesus. On the other hand, we have the freedom to say ‘No’, to live a life of total self-centredness, doing whatever we feel like with total disregard for the needs of those around us. If we persevere like that to the end, God will say to us: “Your will be done” and we will go into an eternity of total isolation.

Finally, Jesus concludes the parables by saying:

Therefore every scribe who has become a disciple in the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.

‘Scribe’ here seems to refer to those who have teaching authority in the Church, especially the Twelve taught by Jesus and chosen by him to continue his mission. They know both the teaching of Jesus (the new) and the Law and the Prophets (the old) and will incorporate both in their teaching, as understood in the light of the new. In many ways, this is a description of Matthew’s Gospel, in which he often shows that the Old Testament is being realised and fulfilled in the New.

Jerome, we know, was deeply learned in the whole of the Scriptures and wrote much to help us in our understanding of it. Every Christian needs to be as familiar as possible with the Word of God if they wish to be truly faithful to the call of Jesus.

In the First Reading from the Second Letter to Timothy, the author (presumed to be Paul) speaks about the value and importance of Scripture:

…from childhood you have known sacred writings that are able to instruct you for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus.

It is not just knowledge and information we get from the Scriptures, but true wisdom, true insight into the meaning and direction of our lives. Its foundation is our faith, our total trust that the truth is in the Way of Jesus.

Paul says:

All scripture is inspired by God…

As such, we call it the “Word of God”. And so it is our guide in evaluating our thinking and our values and the goodness of our words and actions. And, Paul says, it:

…is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness so that the person of God may be proficient, equipped for every good work.

Jerome’s whole life, of course, was based on these ideas. He was himself steeped in the Scriptures. They were the guide of his life and he helped others to take it as their guide too. What role do the Scriptures play in my Christian living—central or peripheral? It is never too late to start.

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Jerome was born about 341 AD at Strido in Dalmatia (modern-day Croatia). He was first educated by his father and then was taught by the grammarian Donatus in Rome. His study of rhetoric is apparent in the quality of his later writing. Prior to his baptism just before 366 AD, he liked to visit the churches and catacombs of Rome. He also travelled in Gaul, his native Dalmatia, and Italy.

It was at Trier in Aquileia that he decided, with some good friends, to become a monk. But, after a quarrel, arising from some real or supposed scandal, Jerome left for Palestine. In 374 AD, he was in Antioch in Syria where two of his companions died and Jerome himself became seriously ill. It was during his sickness that he had a dream in which he saw God condemning him for being a Ciceronian rather than a Christian, and this experience affected him for a number of years.

He became a hermit in the Syrian desert for five years, gave up his beloved classics and began learning Hebrew in order to study the Old Testament in its original language. With his knowledge of Greek and his training in style and rhetoric, he was now ready for his future work as a writer and translator. Unfortunately, Jerome also had the reputation of being cantankerous and sarcastic, which led to his making a number of enemies all during his life.

He was raised to the priesthood in Antioch, even though he did not want to be ordained and in fact never celebrated the Eucharist. He then went to study in Constantinople under Gregory of Nazianzus, where he felt more at home than with monks in the deserts of Syria.

He translated Eusebius’ Chronicon (Chronicle) from Greek into Latin, as well as some of Origen’s homilies. He also wrote his first scriptural work on the Vision of Isaiah, which in a later form was dedicated to Pope Damasus I. Subsequently, he returned to Rome as interpreter to Paulinus, a claimant to the See of Antioch, and was retained as ‘secretary’ by Damasus, then a very old man.

He produced a number of small pieces, mainly involving translations of Scripture. It was at this point that he began the enormous task of making a standard Latin text of the whole Bible. It was not really a completely new translation, but more a revision of existing texts made from the original Hebrew and Greek. He began with the four Gospels and the psalms. He eventually completed almost the whole text of the Bible which became known as the Vulgate (literally, ‘popularised version’). He also wrote much appreciated commentaries on the Prophets and the Letters of the New Testament. His commentary on Matthew’s Gospel became a standard work.

During his three years in Rome, he also became the spiritual director of a group of semi-monastic women. This relationship gave rise to some gossip, generally regarded as unjustified, but it was not helped by his sarcasm and arrogance. He left Rome in 385 AD—as he had left Syria and Constantinople before—under something of a cloud. He was determined to make a new start, this time in Bethlehem, where Paula, one of his Roman directees, established a convent and Jerome a monastery. It was here that he would spend the rest of his life teaching, writing and studying.

During his life he aimed to produce the most accurate version of the Bible and to explain the meaning of the text through sound interpretation. He also believed that monastic life should be based on Scripture-centred prayer, what we now call lectio divina. Such a life should be based on the teachings of the Gospel and Paul, and its finest example was Mary, the mother of Jesus.

Although marred by his difficult temperament, his learning had no equal at that period except for Augustine. His Letters are regarded as the finest of the time. And his deep spirituality and austerity of life were unquestioned.

Jerome died in Bethlehem on 30 September, 420, and was buried under the church of the Nativity there, close to the graves of his spiritual companions, Paula and Eustochium, and close to the traditional site of the birth of Christ. Later his body was transferred to the basilica of St Mary Major in Rome.

In art, it has been common to represent Jerome as a cardinal, although there was no such thing at the time. Even when shown as a scantilly clad anchorite, with cross, skull and Bible as the only furniture of his cell, the red hat or some other indication of his rank is usually introduced somewhere.

He is also often shown with a lion, due to a medieval story in which he removed a thorn from a lion’s paw, and, less often, an owl, the symbol of wisdom and scholarship. Writing materials and the trumpet of final judgment are also part of his iconography. One Renaissance pope commented that it was well Jerome was shown holding a stone, representing his penitential life, because otherwise it would be difficult to regard him a saint! He is also one of the four Latin Doctors.

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Commentary on Daniel 7:9-10,13-14 or Revelations 12:7-12; John 1:47-51

The Gospel reading from John is the scene in the beginning of his Gospel where Jesus meets Nathanael, who has been introduced to him by Philip. Nathanael who had somewhat sneeringly asked if anything good could come from Nazareth must have been somewhat surprised to hear Jesus say to him:

Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!

Of how many people can that be said (including ourselves)?

Puzzled, Nathanael asks Jesus:

Where did you get to know me?

Rather enigmatically Jesus tells him:

I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.

The fig tree was often seen as a symbol of messianic peace. They were words, then, of commendation. Nathanael, deeply impressed, tells Jesus:

Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!

This declaration is on a par with Peter’s confession of Jesus’ identity, and concludes the list of Jesus’ titles which are given in this first chapter of John.

And yet Jesus says he will see much more:

Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these…Very truly, I tell you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.

The allusion is clearly to the dream of Jacob who saw God’s angel-messengers going up and down on a ladder linking Heaven with Earth, God with his People. Jesus, as the Incarnate Son of God is the bridge which links God with his People. He is like a ladder by which God comes to his People and his People go to God.

In a sense Jesus is the Archangel of archangels, the Ultimate Messenger of God’s Truth and Love. Through Him God comes to us, and through Him we go to God.

There is a choice of two First Readings. The first is from the Book of Daniel and speaks of a vision that the prophet has of God on his Throne, which is described in graphic and apocalyptic language. Among other things we are told that:

A thousand thousands served him, and ten thousand times ten thousand stood attending him.

These are the angels who serve at God’s throne.

The second part of this reading is taken from the New Testament to refer to the Christ, the Messiah, the Saviour King of Israel. He is said to be:

…one like a human being coming with the clouds of heaven.

Some translations have it as “one like the son of man”.

His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not pass away, and his kingship is one that shall never be destroyed.

This is an image that the Gospel will use to describe the return of the Risen Jesus at the end of time as he calls his people to himself (see Matt 25).

The alternative First Reading is from the Book of Revelation and speaks of Michael defeating Satan and the powers of evil, which was mentioned above. With the defeat of Satan:

…come the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Messiah…

These angels are symbols of God’s ever-loving relationship with us. It is a two-way communication. We listen to what God tells us and try to make it part of our lives. At the same time, we reach out to him in faith and trust and in a complete surrender of our being.

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There are few explicit references to angels in the earlier books of the Hebrew Bible (our Old Testament). The word ‘angel’ comes from the Greek angelos and simply means a ‘messenger’.

They begin to appear in the later books, for instance, in the Book of Daniel, and seem to date from after the Babylonian exile. However, in chapters 18 and 19 of the Book of Genesis, there are the three men who visit Abraham, who gives them hospitality. One of them seems to be Yahweh and the other two angels. While Yahweh stays with Abraham, the other two go on to Sodom. There they are received by Lot and while in his house, the people of Sodom come and demand to have intimacies with his visitors. The next day, the visitors urge Lot to leave Sodom with his wife and two daughters. The city, along with Gomorrah is then destroyed.

As well, angels are mentioned in the story of Jacob, who had a dream of “angels of God ascending and descending” a stairway or ladder which reached to the heavens (Gen 28:12).

According to some Jewish texts, there were seven archangels, three of whom we remember in today’s feast—Michael, Gabriel and Raphael.

Angels are mentioned frequently in the New Testament. Angels brought messages to Mary, Joseph, Zechariah (father of John the Baptist) and the shepherds at Bethlehem. There were angels ministering to Jesus during his fasting in the wilderness, consoling him during his Agony in the Garden, and standing at the tomb of Jesus after his resurrection. And it was an angel who freed Peter from prison in the Acts of the Apostles.

Only two references are made to ‘archangels’ in the New Testament—Michael in Jude 1:9, 1 Thessalonians 4:16 and Revelation 12:7-9; and Gabriel in Luke 1:26.

Michael
In Jude, the author is speaking against false teachers. He says they behave immorally and revile God’s “glorious ones”, perhaps a reference to angels. But unlike them, Michael in his dispute with Satan over the body of Moses never spoke judgement against him, but left it to God’s own decision.

In the First Letter to the Thessalonians, Paul is speaking about the Second Coming of Christ which he believes will come in the lifetime of the present believers. At that moment:

…the Lord himself, with a cry of command, with the archangel’s call and with the sound of God’s trumpet, will descend from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise first.
(1 Thess 4:16)

The archangel here is understood to be Michael.

In the Book of Revelation chapter 12, in a passage speaking of the power of evil in opposition to God and his people, we are told:

…war broke out in heaven; Michael and his angels fought against the dragon. The dragon [the powers of evil] and his angels fought back, but they were defeated, and there was no longer any place for them in heaven. (Rev 12:7-9)

Evil could not prevail and was driven from the presence of God.

In the Hebrew language, ‘Michael’, means “Who is like unto God?” or “Who is equal to God?” Michael has been depicted from earliest Christian times as a commander, who holds in his right hand a spear with which he attacks Lucifer (Satan) and in his left hand a green palm branch. At the top of the spear there is a linen ribbon with a red cross.

Gabriel
The archangel Gabriel is mentioned just once in the whole Bible—in the New Testament (Luke 1:26-38). It is in the lovely scene in Nazareth where he visits the virgin called Mary and tells her that she will become pregnant, that she will bear a son who will be called Jesus, and that he will the Son of the Most High God. Mary, who is betrothed to Joseph, but not yet living with him as his wife, is alarmed. But she is assured that the Child will be born by the power of the Holy Spirit. Mary then submits completely and unconditionally to God’s will:

Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word. (Luke 1:38)

‘Gabriel’ means “Man of God” or “Might of God”. He is regarded as the herald of the mysteries of God, especially the Incarnation of God and all other mysteries related to it. In art, he is depicted holding a lantern with a lighted taper in his right hand and, in his left, a mirror of green jasper. The mirror signifies the wisdom of God as a hidden mystery.

Raphael
The archangel Raphael appears in the lovely Book of Tobit (not found in the Hebrew Testament or many Protestant Bibles). The archangel is the unrecognised friend of Tobit who goes in search of his inheritance and a bride. The girl he finds is Sarah. Alarmingly, he discovers that all her previous husbands died on the wedding night. But God’s blessing was on this relationship. Raphael also helped Tobit catch the fish whose gall would cure his father’s cataracts and restore his sight.

‘Raphael’ means “God’s healing” or “God the Healer”, and he is depicted leading Tobit, who is carrying a fish caught in the Tigris in his right hand and holding a physician’s alabaster jar in his left.

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Commentary on Wisdom 1:13-15, 2:23-24; 2 Corinthians 8:7,9,13-15; Mark 5:21-43

Today’s readings are about Jesus as the giver of life. The Gospel consists of two related stories, with one inside the other, a typical feature of Mark’s Gospel known as ‘inclusion’. Jesus is approached by an official of the synagogue, called Jairus. His daughter is seriously ill and he wants Jesus to come and lay his hands on her “so that she may be made well and live”. So Jesus sets out for Jairus’ house and is followed by a huge crowd of jostling people.

A woman in fear
It is at this point that the second story begins. An unfortunate woman who has suffered a haemorrhage for 12 years is in the crowd. Mark says she had spent all her resources on treatment from doctors. There was no improvement; in fact, she was feeling worse than ever. (Interestingly, Luke, who is traditionally thought to be a physician, omits this detail!)

Like many others, she had heard about Jesus and, moved by a deep faith in him, she believed that if she could just touch the hem of his cloak it would be enough for her to be healed. In fact, the moment she touched Jesus’ clothes her bleeding stopped instantly. She knew that she had been cured. It was then that Jesus turned round and asked: “Who touched my cloak?” He knew that power had gone out from him. The disciples remonstrate with him. How can he complain of someone touching his clothes when such a large crowd is pressing in on him? Many people must have been jostling him, but Jesus knew that one person had touched him in a different way, a way that had drawn out his healing power.

Why she was afraid
Then the woman, in fear and trembling, stepped forward. She was not really afraid of Jesus. She was afraid because she should not have been there at all. And that is why she had not approached him openly in the first place. Her bleeding problem made her unclean and, if the people around had known about it, she would have been in deep trouble. It is similar to an earlier period in our own time when a person living with HIV/AIDS felt they had to remain concealed. She was, of course, no threat to anyone, but fear does not know reason. Now her secret is going to be exposed; no wonder she is even more afraid. But she steps forward, falls at Jesus’ feet and tells him everything. There is no anger or indignation on Jesus’ part. He says kindly:

Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.

Jesus, the resurrection and the life, has restored her to fullness of life. Not only is she physically cured, but she is fully restored to a normal social life and can be fully integrated into her society. She is a whole person in every sense, individually and socially. But it was her deep faith in Jesus, symbolised by her merely touching the hem of his garment, which was a major factor in her healing.

‘Do not be afraid’
We now move back to our first story. Just as Jesus finishes with the woman, Jairus is told that his daughter has died and that there is no need to bother Jesus any further. Jesus may be a healer, but he is not expected to resuscitate the dead.

Jesus, however, insists on going and he says beautiful words which we need to hear him saying often in our own lives:

Do not be afraid; only believe.

This phrase is repeated like a refrain, hundreds of times in our Bible.

He only allows three of his disciples, the inner circle of Peter, James and John, to accompany him. He wants them to see what is going to happen, but he does not want to satisfy the merely curious, or cater to the sensational reaction of the excitable crowd.

As they approach the house, there is the sound of mourning and wailing. Jesus asks:

Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping.

And they laughed at him…they knew a dead person when they saw one. Was the girl in fact dead or was she in a death-like state of unconsciousness like a coma? It does not really matter; because, as far as those present were concerned, she was dead. If Jesus had not been there, she would very likely have been buried within a short time.

Giver of life
Jesus goes into the house with just the parents and his three close companions. He takes the girl by the hand and says to her:

Talitha koum, which means, “Little girl, get up!”

And the 12-year-old girl immediately got up and walked around quite normally, as if nothing had been wrong with her. Those words “get up” have overtones of resurrection, the “getting up” of Jesus from his own tomb. This is Mark’s way of presenting what Jesus says more explicitly in John’s Gospel:

I am the resurrection and the life. (John 11:25)

Whether she was dead or in a coma, she was restored to fullness of life, and Jesus is revealed as the Lord of life. No wonder that those who witnessed the scene “were overcome with amazement”. So much so that they had to be reminded by Jesus to give the girl some food to eat. This is a small touch on Jesus’ part, but it reveals how ‘other-centred’ and caring he is. He could have been basking in the admiration of the onlookers, but he continues to focus on the girl and her needs.

We are meant for wholeness
Both of these stories – with one, as it were, enfolded in the other – reveal Jesus as the source of life and healing. As the First Reading says today, God:

does not delight in the destruction of the living.

And it goes on to say:

For he created all things so that they might exist…the dominion of Hades is not on earth. For righteousness is immortal.

We have been made, the book of Wisdom tells us, to be in the image of God’s own nature:

God created us for incorruption
and made us in the image of his own eternity…

This is the goal of our lives: to know, to love and to share his life forever. Yet all of us, in some way or another, are constantly in need of God’s healing. Healing, health, wholeness, and holiness are, in English, all linked words. We pray for healing which will give us health in every aspect of our lives, and not just in our bodies. The realisation of full health is to become a whole person, where every part of me – spiritual, intellectual, social, psychological and physiological – functions as it ought and in perfect harmony within itself, with people around, and with the environment.

Wholeness comes in sharing
And part of that wholeness is indicated by Paul in the Second Reading. He reminds the Corinthians how Jesus, rich though he was (not with money, but in things of the spirit):

…for your sakes…became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich.

Naked and destitute on the cross, he poured out his love on us. He even gave his life that we might have life. And because of that he, too, lives forever – and we have been immeasurably enriched. Paul gives that as a model for the way that the Corinthians should share whatever they can spare for their poorer brothers in other churches.

Interestingly, he says that in sharing with others we are not expected to give away what we genuinely need ourselves, but only from our surplus. And, when I share my surplus today with someone in greater need, I myself can hope to be treated in the same way in my own hour of need. (Of course, it is important that I distinguish clearly and honestly what I genuinely need and what I think I cannot do without – my Mercedes sports car or my Rolex watch.) In this way, a balance is maintained and Paul quotes from Scripture:

The one who had much did not have too much,
and the one who had little did not have too little.
(2 Cor 8:15)

That is an example of wholeness in our society, in our communities – the way it should be.

Part of our healing is in the wholeness of our communities, a wholeness which is based on truth, love, compassion and a deep sense of justice for all. And this, too, is holiness, because God is an integral part of the wholeness. He is recognised as the Creator, the Conserver and the Final Goal of all that I am and can be, of all that we are and can be. Let us pray today to Jesus as Lord of life and ask him to help us reach that level of health, wholeness and holiness to which he is calling us.

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Commentary on Job 38:1,8-11; 2 Corinthians 5:14-17; Mark 4:35-41

During the Sundays of Ordinary Time this year, we are reading from Mark’s Gospel. In his Gospel he brings the reader through a process by which the real identity of Jesus is gradually revealed. There seem to be two lessons being taught in today’s readings.

Crossing the lake
In today’s passage Jesus tells his disciples to cross over in a boat to the opposite shore of the Sea of Galilee. In John’s Gospel this scene follows immediately on the feeding of the 5,000 when the crowd got very excited and wanted to make Jesus their king. In case the disciples might have got similar ideas themselves, Jesus packs them off in their boat where they soon come face to face with real life. They get into the boat and, we are told, there were some other boats accompanying them (this seems to have some significance for the second part of the teaching). The Gospel also says they left the crowd behind them. The crowds frequently gather around Jesus, but they are not really numbered among his followers. They listen to him, they marvel at his miracles, but they are at the most only potential followers. They are never really with him. To which group do I belong: the inner circle committed to being with Jesus or just a hanger-on seeing what I can pick up for myself?

A threatening storm
As they made their way across the lake, a storm suddenly blew up. It is said that the Sea of Galilee is notorious for these sudden storms. Large waves were breaking over the boat and filling it with water. Naturally, the disciples were very afraid and thought their boat was going to sink. But, through it all, Jesus was fast asleep at the back of the boat, apparently either oblivious or totally uncaring about their situation. In a panic, they wake him up:

Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?

Jesus wakes, rebukes the wind and speaks to the sea saying:

Be silent! Be still!

The wind dropped and all was perfectly calm again. Then it was the apostle’s turn to be scolded:

Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?

And now they were even more afraid as they gaped at him in awe and wonder:

Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?

I the Lord of sea and sky
They know that it is only God who can control the wind and the sea and the other elements. That is the theme of the First Reading, taken from the Book of Job. Listen to God speak to Job in majestic words:

…who shut in the sea with doors
when it burst out from the womb,
when I made the clouds its garment
and thick darkness its swaddling band,
and prescribed bounds for it,
and set bars and doors,
and said, ‘Thus far shall you come and no farther,
and here shall your proud waves be stopped’?

We have here the awe of the ancients before the power of the sea and an acknowledgement that God is Creator and Lord of the sea and the waters. The Responsorial Psalm (Ps 107:23-26,28-32) echoes the fear of sailors in those times in their frail sailing boats before wind and wave:

Some went down to the sea in ships,
doing business on the mighty waters;
they saw the deeds of the Lord,
his wondrous works in the deep.

Men of faith had no difficulty seeing the power of God in the power of wind and wave. The words are perfectly applicable to the disciples in the boat who wondered, “Who can this be? Even the wind and sea obey him.” They begin to put two and two together. Only God has power over the seas but Jesus has exercised exactly that power before their eyes.

From today’s Psalm:

For he commanded and raised the stormy wind,
which lifted up the waves of the sea.
They mounted up to heaven; they went down to the depths;
their courage melted away in their calamity…

Was that storm a mere accident? Was it both started and stopped by the same person so that the disciples could learn an important lesson about Jesus?

Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,
and he brought them out from their distress;
he made the storm be still,
and the waves of the sea were hushed.

And finally,

Then they were glad because they had quiet,
and he brought them to their desired haven.

But wait! Now, it is Jesus who is doing all this! There can only be one possible explanation. Jesus has the power of God; Jesus has the nature of God. No wonder they are filled with awe and fear of the man in front of them. The mystery of Jesus’ identity is gradually being unfolded before their eyes.

Image of the Church in the world
However, our Gospel today seems to contain another teaching as well. We can read the story as a kind of parable or allegory of the Church and especially of the early Church, but also of the Church in many places in our own time. We can see the boat, here and in other parts of the Gospel, as symbolising the Church. And in fact, as was mentioned above, there are a number of boats, representing the different churches or church communities in different places. Each one has to deal with its problems in its own way. In one boat are the disciples of Jesus and Jesus is with them. The water all around them represents the world. The Church then was like a small, fragile boat in a huge and often hostile world. Sometimes storms broke out and threatened the boat-Church. The early (and also the subsequent) Church suffered many persecutions and movements determined to wipe it out.

Where is Jesus?
And, in such confused and frightening situations these small church communities must have been tempted to ask: “Where is Jesus?” He seemed to be so far away; he seemed to be asleep; he did not seem to care what was happening to them. Nevertheless, their communities continued to exist. In their prayers they realised that Jesus was still with them. And then they began to experience an inner peace. They came to realise that the storm was not in the sea but in their own fears and anxieties. The peace, too, was in their own hearts. Although the world around them was still the same – it had not changed, it continued to persecute and oppress them – it was they themselves who had changed and had regained their confidence and trust in Jesus’ care for them.As Paul says in the Second Reading:

From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we no longer know him in that way. So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; look, new things have come into being!

The peace only he can give
Perhaps we at this time in our lives or in our society are experiencing some kind of fear or anxiety. Maybe we see some threats looming on our horizon. We badly need the peace of Jesus. Very often we have no control over the political and social developments of our society; we have little or no control over what other people are doing. But, no matter what we are experiencing, we can – with the help of Jesus – find peace. It is the peace which only he can give. And it is a peace which no person and no thing can take away from us.

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Commentary on 2 Maccabees 7:1-2,9-14; John 17:11-19

The Gospel reading is part of Jesus’ prayer for unity among his followers. It comes from his long discourse during the Last Supper as given to us in John’s Gospel. In this particular part of the prayer, he is praying for his disciples who are with him at the supper that God protect:

…them in your name that you have given me…

Jesus prays:

…that they may be one, as we are one.

For this is the way that people will come to recognise the true identity of Jesus. To be a follower of Jesus is not simply to believe in him and lead a good life. It is not to see the Church as some kind of organisation outside of me, but to which I go to get the ‘graces’ I need to be a good person, to keep the commandments and as a place where I can carry out my ‘religious obligations’ and in the end ‘save my soul’.

To be a follower of Jesus is essentially to be a follower with and through others. The Christian life is essentially communal. And Jesus is saying here that the most potent witness we can give of who he is is that we who claim to follow him do so as part of a fellowship. It is said that in the early Church there was a saying: “See those Christians how they love one another!” That was one of the most striking characteristics to the pagan eye, namely, that people who came from different ethnic and social backgrounds could live together in such harmony. This was something strange to societies which strongly and defensively identified with their own group, their own tribe.

Jesus had said this earlier during the same discourse. In giving his disciples a “new” commandment, he had told them:

Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. (John 13:34)

And, he continued:

By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. (John 13:35)

This was to be the defining mark of the Christian—to be a ‘with-person’ or an ‘inter-person’. There is no room for individualism, going it alone to Jesus. This is a very relevant message for our individualistic, self-seeking, post-modern times. The sufferings of the martyrs we are remembering today were primarily because of the bitter divisions between different groups who claimed to follow the Gospel we have just heard. It brought great suffering on both sides and there are traces of it still in Ireland. Different understandings of the Gospel message are perhaps unavoidable, but we must never forget the overriding call of love and fellowship as the primary sign of our following of Christ.

One of the possible First Readings for today’s memorial is from the Second Book of Maccabees. It is from the passage where seven brothers are tempted by the Syrian King Antiochus to eat pork and thus disown their Jewish faith with the promise of all kinds of privileges if they do. They all refuse and one by one are executed in each other’s presence and in the presence of their mother, who encourages them to remain faithful. In a verse not included in today’s reading, she tells says that the physical death of her sons will not be the end, but the doorway to a much better life:

…the Creator of the world, who shaped the beginning of humankind and devised the origin of all things, in his mercy gives life and breath back to you again, since you now forget yourselves for the sake of his laws. (Macc 7:23)

These words which can be equally well applied to the 17 martyrs we remember today. They disregarded their own temporal interests to identify themselves with their crucified Saviour, confident they would rise with him:

Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.
(Luke 23:43)

May we have some of their spirit, too.

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Commentary on Isaiah 61:1-3; Luke 10:1-9

The Gospel reading from Luke describes seventy-two of Jesus’ disciples being sent out on a mission to do the work that Jesus was doing—proclaiming the Kingdom of God, healing people of their sicknesses and reconciling sinners. Jesus tells them that the harvest is great and that more people need to be sent out to help bring it in. He warns them that they are to be prepared, like Jesus himself, to meet with opposition. It is like sending lambs out among wolves. They are to bring peace to a world full of violence and hatred. They are to travel as lightly as possible, carrying only the barest necessities. Many of their needs will be met by those they are helping.

Wherever they go, they are to stay in the first house that offers hospitality. They are not to be picking and choosing and move from one house to another. They are to bring healing, as a sign that the Kingdom of God is coming among them. It is coming in the person of Jesus and in the message that he brings. A message of universal and unconditional love, a message of caring service to all, a message of community, fellowship and sharing.

Anthony of Padua exemplified this in his life. He constantly sought a life of the utmost simplicity, and also used his inborn gift of eloquence to bring the message of the gospel to large numbers of people. This is beautifully expressed in the First Reading which is from the prophet Isaiah. The words are those which Jesus himself used to describe his mission when he preached one Sabbath day at the beginning of his public life, in the synagogue of his home town, Nazareth:

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to set free those who are oppressed… (Luke 4:18)

Anthony was filled with the Spirit of his Lord. He had been anointed at his baptism and later at his ordination to the priesthood. Through his preaching, he brought good news, his words brought comfort and healing, he showed those made captive by their appetites how to be free, and brought liberation to those who were imprisoned by fear and anxiety and the many forces which dominate our lives. In our own way and, according to the particular circumstances of our life, each one of us is expected to bring the same message to the people who are part of our lives.