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Commentary on Matthew 18:21-35

This passage makes a crucial link between God’s forgiving us, and our forgiving others. Peter asks how many times he should forgive another, and offers what he regards as a very generous seven times. Jesus multiplies that by eleven. In other words, our readiness to forgive should be without limit.

The reason is because that is the way God himself acts towards us. Suppose we only had seven chances of being forgiven our sins in our lifetime, and suppose we were to confess our sins to a priest and were told: “Sorry, you have used up your quota.” Don’t we believe that every single time we genuinely repent, we can renew our relationship with God?

Jesus is simply telling us that, if we are to be his followers, we must act on the same basis with other people. To make his teaching clear, he tells the parable of the two servants. The one with the huge debt is forgiven by the king. He then proceeds to throttle another servant who owes what is, by comparison, a paltry amount.

As indicated in the parable, there is no real proportion between the offence of our sins against an all-holy God, and those made against us by others. And every time we say the Lord’s Prayer, we commit ourselves to this:

Forgive us our sins just as we forgive those who sin against us.

It is indeed a courageous prayer to make. Do we really mean what we say? Do we even think about it when we pray it?

This teaching does not mean turning a blind eye to a person who keeps on doing harm to us. Forgiveness is more than just saying words; it involves an attempt at the restoring of a broken relationship. It involves working for the healing of both sides. With some offences against us, it may be necessary to make a proactive, but totally non-violent response. Our main concern should not be ourselves, but the well-being of the other person whose actions are really self-harmful.

Finally, while forgiveness is a unilateral act, reconciliation is not. Reconciliation is only possible if the two parties are able to come together and do whatever they must to restore the relationship—either offering and/or seeking forgiveness. And, while it is certainly difficult for me to forgive when the other party remains totally unrepentant, I can do so with God’s help, even though I may not be reconciled with the other person.

God’s absolute willingness to forgive may not be obvious to one who has offended and is unrepentant (remember the Prodigal Son whose healing only began when he came to his senses and returned to his Father to ask forgiveness). Still, the injured party must also work on bringing about a healing of the wound of division between both sides. Only when both parties do their part, then, is reconciliation possible and forgiveness complete, and that may take a long time.

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Commentary on Luke 18:9-14

In today’s Gospel we see two ways of praying. One is arrogant, proud and contemptuous of others. As the Pharisee ‘prays’, God is somehow meant to feel grateful that there are at least a few people as observant of the rules as he is, in comparison with the sinful and despicable outsider, symbolised by the tax collector behind him:

God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.

On the contrary, the Pharisee fasts twice a week and pays tithes on all he earns—he goes well beyond what the law demands.

Yet his ‘prayer’ is not accepted. It is not really a prayer at all, but a hymn to himself. As Catholics, or as regular churchgoers, we can sometimes feel superior to those who have dropped out, to those who have no religion, those who lead what we regard as ‘immoral’ lives.

The tax collector is certainly a sinner; that is not denied. But he knows and acknowledges his sinfulness. He is deeply repentant, and he puts himself totally at the mercy of God:

God, be merciful to me, a sinner.

His prayer is accepted because he acknowledges God as his Lord and Saviour. As well, he does not compare himself with anyone else; he does not judge anyone else—only himself.

Our prayer must always be an expression of our total dependence on God. There is nothing that we can give him which he has not given us first. All we can do is to make an effort to return a fraction of the love that he showers constantly on us. We are and always will be in his debt.

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Commentary on Hosea 6:1-6

Both readings today are about our attitudes in relating to God in prayer. The passage from Hosea in the First Reading used to be read every Good Friday. As is described in the Vatican II Missal:

“…the northern kingdom (Ephraim) and the southern kingdom (Judah) are criticised for their shallow religion and trust in animal sacrifices. God wants a life of sincere service.”

The prophet here composes a penitential prayer and puts it into the mouths of God’s people, who are terrified by threats of punishment and of being abandoned by God. They exhort each other to return to Yahweh, but the return is only superficial—there is no real repentance.

The people say:

Come, let us return to the Lord…

Though this is their call, it lacks sincerity. The people complain that God has treated them roughly, but they are confident that he will heal them again.

…he has struck down, and he will bind us up.
After two days he will revive us;
on the third day he will raise us up,
that we may live before him.

Some have seen in these words a reference to the resurrection of Christ, by which God’s healing will be brought back to his people.

…he will come to us like the showers,
like the spring rains that water the earth.

Israel believed that, as surely as the seasonal rains fell and revived the earth, God’s favour would return and restore her, and that his anger would come to an end.

The reason for God’s toughness is the superficiality of their commitment to him. Their:

…love is like a morning cloud,
like the dew that goes away early.

God sees through the emptiness of their pious expressions:

What shall I do with you, O Ephraim [the northern kingdom]?
What shall I do with you, O Judah [the southern kingdom]? Your love is like a morning cloud,
like the dew that goes away early.

They have used high-sounding words of repentance, but their actions have not been in harmony with utterances.

Therefore I have hewn them by the prophets;
I have killed them by the words of my mouth,
and my judgment goes forth as the light.

Not literally killed them, of course, but condemned their sinful behaviour.

God now spells it out clearly (and this sentence is quoted twice in Matthew’s Gospel):

For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice,
the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.

What God has wanted from them is genuine loving actions, not empty rituals, however piously performed. Knowledge of God is not simply knowledge about God, but a knowledge implying a deep interpersonal relationship instead of ostentatious holocausts.

This is what we see criticised in today’s Gospel too. And, for us, it is not the Masses we attend, or the prayers we say that count most, but the genuine love of God shown by the way we live our lives and the way we relate to the people around us. Our prayer must flow out of such a lifestyle and, at the same time, bring about such a way of living.

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Commentary on Mark 12:28-34

In the Gospel, we find one of the rare meetings between Jesus and a teacher of the Law which is not confrontational. The man seems genuinely interested in Jesus’ answer to a question that was often asked by interpreters of the Law. Again, and rather unusually, Jesus answers the question directly.

In fact, he gives a double answer. In doing so, he links, in a special and indivisible way, a total love of God with love of those around us. The scribe is impressed. He fully endorses what Jesus has said, and even adds that such love transcends any purely religious activity. Jesus is also impressed, and tells the scribe that he is very close to the Kingdom of God.

Jesus says this because the scribe puts love of God and neighbour at the very centre of living, but he will not be fully in the Kingdom until he becomes a follower of the Way of Jesus. Whether that happened or not we do not know.

What we do know, is that we today are being called to follow Jesus in a total commitment of heart, mind and strength to loving God, and to loving unconditionally every single person we come in contact with. Lent is a good time for us to evaluate how we are doing in this regard.

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Commentary on Hosea 14:2-10

Both of today’s readings are about our total commitment to God. Regarding the First Reading, the Vatican II Missal tells us:

“More than any other prophet, Hosea tells about God’s love for his people.”

After many negative words from the prophet to God’s people, Hosea in this last part of his book sounds a note of hope, which he had already hinted at earlier. Today’s passage is a liturgical prayer expressing sincere repentance, concluding with a firm promise of God’s blessing.

In this closing passage of his book, Hosea calls the people back to God. The troubles they have been experiencing are due to their alienation from God. If they will only come back to him, where they belong, their lives will flourish. God is only too anxious to shower his love and gifts on them.

Hosea urges the people to say:

Take away all guilt;
accept that which is good,
and we will offer
the fruit of our lips.

In other words, expressions of true repentance will take the place of purely external rituals.

There is there not much good in looking for help from powerful neighbours like Assyria, nor from those who “ride upon horses” (perhaps a reference to Egypt). Rather, God is the one in whom “the orphan finds mercy.”

God will bring his healing:

I will heal their disloyalty;
I will love them freely…

These gifts and their results are expressed in lovely phrases taken from plant life:

I will be like the dew to Israel;
he shall blossom like the lily;
he shall strike root like the forests of Lebanon.
His shoots shall spread out;
his beauty shall be like the olive tree
and his fragrance like that of Lebanon.
They shall again live beneath my shadow;
they shall flourish as a garden;
they shall blossom like the vine;
their fragrance shall be like the wine of Lebanon.

God then compares himself to the greenness of a cypress tree (and this is unique in the Old Testament), a source of life and fruitfulness for his people.

If we could learn that only through the way of life which God proposes can we find the true fulfilment of our deepest longings, then we will experience a deep happiness throughout our life. During this Lent let us open our hearts to a total and unconditional love of God and of those around us.

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Commentary on Matthew 5:17-19

In Matthew’s Gospel especially, Jesus is shown as not being a maverick breakaway from the traditions of the Jews. He was not a heretic or a blasphemer. He was the last in the great line of prophets sent by God to his people:

…he sent his son to them, saying, ‘They will respect my son.’ (Matt 21:37)

So in today’s passage, Jesus strongly emphasises that it is not his intention to abrogate the Jewish law, but rather to develop and complete it. In the verses that immediately follow today’s passage, Jesus gives six very clear examples of what he means. He quotes a number of moral situations contained in the Law, and shows how he expects his followers not only to observe them, but to go much further in understanding their underlying meaning.

The Law is not to be downgraded in any way. Rather, it is to be transcended to a higher level. Up to the time of Jesus—and this is clearly exemplified in the Pharisees and scribes as they appear in the Gospels—perfect observance of the Law focused on external acts. Jesus will show that true observance must also be in the heart and mind.

Christians, too, can become obsessed with external observance of Church laws and regulations. It can become a source of scrupulosity and fear. This can happen during the Lenten season when we are encouraged to do ‘penitential acts’. We need to remember that these acts do not stand on their own. They only have meaning if they deepen our relationship with God. In all things, our ultimate guide must be the law of love. No truly loving act can ever be sinful, although at times it may violate the letter of a law.

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Commentary on Deuteronomy 4:1,5-9

Moses reminds the Israelites of the great treasure they have in their laws and customs, a treasure full of “wisdom and discernment”. These laws are life-giving and will bring the people closer to their God:

For what other great nation has a god so near to it as the Lord our God is whenever we call to him? And what other great nation has statutes and ordinances as just as this entire law that I am setting before you today?

Other Jewish traditions from this period often emphasise the distance between God and man, indicated by the reluctance even to utter the name of God (as we see even in Matthew’s Gospel).

However, Deuteronomy calls attention to the loving intimacy between God and the people among whom he lives. His enduring presence was symbolised by the tabernacle and the Ark of the Covenant in the centre of the Israelites’ camp, and by the pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night, which indicated God’s accompanying presence with his people at all times.

God’s love for humanity will find its supreme expression, however, in the Incarnation, when the Word of God “became flesh and lived among us” as one of us—a concept many devout Jews would find very hard to accept.

But it is in the Law, too, that God is with his people. Through its observance, they express their closeness to him. Yet Jesus was to make radical modifications to this Law to bring it to even greater heights of sensitivity and accountability.

The greatness of any society can in part be measured, first, in the quality of its legal system and, second, in how its laws are administered and observed. This involves close cooperation between law-makers, enforcers of the law, interpreters of the law and observers of the law.

But, above everything else, as Jesus clearly indicates in today’s Gospel, is the law of love which does not abrogate, but goes far beyond the Mosaic Law and includes a deep sense of justice, of compassion and unity between people.

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Commentary on 1 John 5:1-5; John 15:1-8

In the Gospel Jesus compares himself to a vine tree. The passage comes from the long discourse which Jesus has with his disciples at the Last Supper on the eve of his suffering and death. He begins by saying:

I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower.

This is the last of seven ‘I AM’ statements made by Jesus in the course of John’s Gospel.

The ‘I AM’ is the name of God, and makes one think of the time when Moses was before the burning bush from which a voice came telling him to undertake the mission of liberating his people from slavery in Egypt. But Moses objected:

If I come to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what shall I say to them? God said to Moses, “I am who I am.” He said further, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘I am has sent me to you.’ (Exod 3:13-14)

In today’s passage Jesus speaks of himself as the True Vine, or rather as the main stem or trunk of the vine. On the vine there are many branches. Some of these branches are laden down with fruit, while others may not produce any fruit at all. But even the branches which bear fruit will be pruned so that they will produce even more fruit. This pruning can be identified with the trials that even the most committed of Christians is bound to experience in the living of a Christ-centred life. On the other hand, no branch can bear any fruit at all unless it is part of the vine.

It all clearly applies to our relationship with Christ. Separated from him, we are not able to bear fruit. Jesus says he is the source of all our life and of every good thing we do because:

…apart from me, you can do nothing.

A branch that becomes separated from the trunk that is Jesus will wither and die. It will only be of use for the bonfire.

Cyril, as bishop in Jerusalem, faced a good deal of ‘pruning’ in being a fruitful branch on the vine. He endured a great deal of opposition and misunderstanding, but through it all remained faithful to his Lord.

The First Reading is from the First Letter of John. This letter is very much concerned with the thinking of the Gnostics, a group of Christians who wanted to deny the reality of the material body of Christ. So today’s passage begins:

Everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ has been born of God, and everyone who loves the parent loves the child.

And the last sentence reads:

Who is it who conquers the world but the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God?

In other words, it is an affirmation that Jesus is truly and fully and in every way the Son of God, who shares in himself the divine nature of God and our own human nature.

In the time of Cyril, the prevailing heresy was that of the Arians, whose position was the opposite of the Gnostics. The Arians denied that Jesus shared the divine nature with the Father and that he was only human. The reading from 1 John equally attacks both the Gnostic and Arian positions.

Let us, then, acknowledge the true divinity and the true humanity of Jesus. It is only this that gives the Incarnation its full meaning, so that Jesus becomes the Bridge linking our God with our human selves and the world in which we live. It is through Jesus that God comes to us, and through Jesus and our imitation of him that we go to God.

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Little is known of the life of Cyril before he became bishop. It is believed he was born about the year 313 or 315 AD. He was raised in Jerusalem and given a good education, especially in the Scriptures. About the year 335, he was ordained deacon by St Macarius of Jerusalem, and ordained priest about eight years later by Bishop St Maximus. He was given the task of catechising during Lent those preparing for Baptism, and during the Easter season, the newly baptised. His catechetical texts remain valuable as examples of the ritual and theology of the Church in the mid-fourth century.

About the year 350 he succeeded St Maximus as Bishop of Jerusalem. Through the nature of his conciliatory disposition, while opposed to Arianism, he was not quite ready to accept the uncompromising term homoousios (from the Greek meaning ‘consubstantial’ and indicating that Jesus shared the same divine nature with the Father).

But he distanced himself from his archbishop, Acacius of Caesaraea, who favoured the position of Arius, and Cyril favoured the so-called Eusebians who were anti-Arian. This displeased Acacius, and a council held under Acacius accused Cyril of insubordination and selling church property to help the poor. He was forced to retire to Tarsus. Then in the following year, the Council of Seleucia, at which Cyril was present, deposed Acacius.

In 360 AD, Acacius was again in control and Cyril was sent away for another year, until the accession of the emperor Julian allowed him to come back. Then in the year 367, the Arian emperor Valens banished him again. But Cyril was able to return with the accession of the emperor Gratian, and returned to find Jerusalem torn with heresy, schism and strife, and wracked with crime. Even St Gregory of Nyssa, who was sent to help, left in despair.

Cyril and Gregory both went to the (second ecumenical) Council of Constantinople, where the amended form of the Nicene Creed was promulgated. Cyril now accepted the word ‘consubstantial’. Some said it was an act of repentance, but the bishops of the Council praised him as a champion of orthodoxy against the Arians. Though not friendly with St Athanasius of Alexandria, the greatest defender of orthodoxy against the Arians, Cyril may be counted among those whom Athanasius called “brothers, who mean what we mean, and differ only about the word” (i.e. ‘consubstantial’).

He remained in his post until his death in 386. In 1883, St. Cyril was declared a Doctor of the Church by Pope Leo XIII.

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José de Anchieta Llarena was born on 19 March 1534 in San Cristóbal de La Laguna on Tenerife in the Canary Islands, Spain, to a well-off family. His father, Juan López de Anchieta, was a landowner from Urrestilla, in the Basque country, who had escaped to Tenerife after taking part in a failed rebellion against King Charles V. His mother, Mencia Díaz de Clavijo y Llarena, a descendant of the conquerors of Tenerife, came from a Jewish family and was related to the family of Ignatius Loyola.

Anchieta went to study in Portugal when he was 14 years old, in the Royal College of Arts in Coimbra. He was intensely religious and sought admission in 1551 to the Jesuit College of the University of Coimbra as a novice. During his studies, the young Anchieta became quite ill, with an affliction of the spine which tormented him throughout his life, but he was considered an exceptionally intelligent student and a gifted poet. He learned to write in Portuguese and Latin as well as in his mother tongue.

In 1553 Anchieta travelled to Brazil as a missionary of the third group of Jesuits sent to the New World, accompanying Duarte da Costa, the second governor-general nominated by the Portuguese crown. After a perilous journey and a shipwreck, Anchieta and his small group arrived in São Vicente, the first village founded in Brazil, in 1534. There, he had his first contact with the Tapuia Indians living in the region.

In the same year, Anchieta with 12 other Jesuits were sent to a plateau in the Serra do Mar and there established a small mission station. Here, Anchieta began, with his Jesuit colleagues, the work of conversion, baptism and catechesis and education for which the Jesuits were well known. Anchieta taught Latin to the Indians and began to learn their language, Old Tupi, and to compile a dictionary and a grammar, which was the custom of Jesuit missions whenever they made contact with a local people. The Jesuit College of São Paulo of Piratininga, as it was called, soon began to expand and to prosper.

Meanwhile, due to the killings and ransacking of villages by the Portuguese colonisers, the local tribes in present-day Sao Paulo, Rio de Janeiro and Espirito Santo united in a confederation against them and supported the French colonisers. Anchieta, who was totally opposed to the Portuguese behaviour, strongly opposed Governor-general Duarte and initiated peace negotiations with Tamao people during which his knowledge of the Tupi language was crucial.

After many incidents during which Anchieta and his colleague, Manuel da Nobrega, were almost killed by the native people, he finally gained their confidence and peace was established.

Peace was broken, however, when it was decided to expel the French colonisers permanently. Anchieta was with the Portuguese forces, acting as both surgeon and interpreter, and took part in the final, victorious battle against the French in 1567.

With the coming of peace, a Jesuit college was founded in Rio de Janeiro under the direction of da Nóbrega and Anchieta was invited to join him, succeeding him after his death, in 1570.

Despite his precarious health and the hardships of travelling by foot and boat, for the next 10 years Anchieta travelled widely between Rio de Janeiro, Bahia, Espírito Santo and São Paulo, consolidating the expanding missionary work of the Jesuit missions. In 1577 the fourth superior general of the Jesuits, Everard Mercurian, appointed Anchieta provincial superior of the order’s members in Brazil.

With his health in decline, Anchieta asked to be relieved from his respnsibilities in 1591. He died in his country of adoption on 9 June 1597, at Reritiba, Espírito Santo, mourned by more than 3,000 native peoples, who so much valued all he had done for them both spiritually and in the promotion of their human dignity.

During and after his life, José de Anchieta was considered to have almost supernatural powers. Many legends formed around him, such as when he supposedly preached to and calmed down an attacking jaguar. To this day, a popular devotion holds that praying to Anchieta protects against animal attacks.

José de Anchieta is celebrated as the founder of Brazilian literature and, with da Nóbrega, Apostle of Brazil. He has given his name to two cities, Anchieta, in the State of Espírito Santo (formerly called Reritiba, his place of death), and Anchieta, in the state of Santa Catarina, as well as many other places, roads, institutions, hospitals, and schools.

He was canonized on April 3, 2014 by Pope Francis.

In the Jesuit tradition, Anchieta kept in constant touch with his superiors in Europe, communicating mainly by letters, writing in perfect Spanish, Portuguese, Latin and Tupi. He also wrote theology, religious instruction, drama poetry, and the first published work on the Old Tupi language.

He was a writer of music and a dramatist, teaching Christianity to the local people through music and theatre. He wrote a famous poem to the Virgin Mary, allegedly writing it every morning on the wet sand of a beach at Iperoig and committing it to memory until he could much later transcribe its more than 4,900 verses to paper. Because of all this, Anchieta is the patron of

literature and music in Brazil. He was also a keen naturalist, describing several hitherto unknown plants and animals, and was an excellent surgeon and physician.

His clear and detailed reports help us now to understand the lifestyle, knowledge and customs of the native peoples and Europeans during his time, as well as the marvels of Brazil’s wildlife and geography.