Lenten Reflection: Fifth Sunday of Lent

Year A Scrutinies

(Ez 37:12-14; Rom 8:8-11; Jn 11:1-45)

The Greatest Miracle in the World

What is the greatest miracle in the world? Is it the Wedding at Cana? The miracle of the fish? The healing of the many people who are sick and diseased? Is it the feeding of the five-thousand or the walking on the water? Or is it as today’s Gospel says; the miraculous resurrection of Lazarus? I would think that one could make a case that of all the extraordinary, astounding and astonishing miracles that Jesus has performed, none has been greater than this most awesome expression of God’s life giving power.

Now in light of this realization that Christ has performed the greatest miracle in the world what does it mean, then, when he says to his disciples (as he says to us today) in John’s Gospel, “Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it. “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (Jn 14:12-14).

Greater works than these … greater works than these? We are told we will do greater works that those of the Our Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ!? I say that with an exclamation point and a question mark as well, for frankly, I find it quite intimidating that the Truth tells us that we will do greater works than those that the disciples had witnessed at that we hear proclaimed year after year.

What could be greater than raising someone from the dead? I believe the answer is raising those from the living dead; our brothers and sisters who share this holy existence of life among us on this earth. Many of us have experienced the life of mediocrity. We have in many different ways settled for an altered way of life because of lost dreams. We have surrendered our self-esteem to negative persuasions, and have settled for just getting by. We may have lost our desire to cooperate with God’s Divine plan for our lives; we may have fallen into the nightmare of compromise filled with regret, dejection, and hopelessness. We may have fallen upon a path of disdain for any respect for human life, a track with alcohol and drug addictions, or even a journey in which some of us shared in the despair, bleakness, and fear of a life that was filled with “unanswered prayers and nights of tears.”

But there is hope! There is joy! There is Jesus and his promise to us all: “You will do greater deeds than these.” We, my brothers and sisters, can and must be ready to follow in the Lord’s footsteps and raise those in need from the living dead.

How are we to do this? Look at the example of our patron St. Francis of Assisi: feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, make strangers welcome, visit the sick, visit the imprisoned, clothe the naked.

What is the greatest miracle in the world? The wine, the fish, the loaves? … It is the gift of life! God is challenging us today to resurrect those from the living dead; those who look upon themselves with disgrace and terror; those who live in fear and failure and thrash hopelessly and helplessly in their own image of worthlessness and mockery.

My brothers and sisters, we must raise our hands in prayer and in honor to the Almighty and ask for the promise that Jesus foretold: to share in his ministry; to perform the greater miracle; to raise those from the living dead. As we seek and find those in need we will then cry out in a loud voice “Lazarus, come out!”


– Br. Matthew Hillman, T.O.R.

Lenten Reflection: Fourth Sunday of Lent

Cycle B

(2 Chr 36:14-16, 19-23; Eph 2:4-10; Jn 3:14-21)

Lent is the Church’s annual call to conversion. It echoes God’s call for a change of heart; from spiritual death or sickness to become whole and healthy again. Penance is not a way to make ourselves feel bad but a chance to know real spiritual peace and joy again. But this Sunday was a break in the old rather severe Lent and is called Laetare from the first antiphon: “Rejoice.” It celebrates the chance to choose life and wholeness, to be open to receive that undeserved, generous love we cannot earn but only accept as God’s gift to us.

Today in this passage from St. John’s Gospel we overhear part of a conversation between Jesus and a Pharisee called Nicodemus. This man was attracted by the words and deeds of Jesus, but he was still unsure and, in the face of the opposition of some of his confreres, was still fearful about following Him. So he comes under cover of the darkness to find out more about this Rabbi. Jesus talks with him and we listen in.

Now, John’s Gospel is noted for highlighting the Signs - especially the seven miracles - which help one to have faith in Jesus. Today Jesus refers to the sign of the serpent uplifted on a pole. He was recalling a strange event during the Exodus. The Israelites had been bitten by desert serpents and some had died. Moses was told by God to mount a bronze serpent on a pole and all who looked upon it with faith would recover. (You probably have seen something similar to that serpent on the pole in your Doctor’s office. It is still a sign of healing ...... points us to the MD...the healer!) So when Christ is lifted up, Nicodemus will recognize the He is The Healer.

St. John is also well known for highlighting the signs of Light and Darkness. Whenever he uses Light it is always pointing to life, faith, and the saving wisdom Jesus is offering.(Nicodemus has come out of the darkness to Christ the Light) Jesus explains that He has come because God the Father loves this human world of His Creation and wants to give it Eternal Life. Jesus is the Light come into the world so that we might see ourselves, others and the world as it is....a world where darkness was the condition everyone used to cover up their sins and evil deeds,. In the darkness no one can recognize the good man from the criminal. One of the practical safety and anti-crime precautions is an abundance of bright lights in an area.

Today’s Liturgy reminds us that the Coming, the Presence of Jesus is The Great Gift of God to us. And once He has come into the world there are only two choices: either to believe in Him and move into God’s Light or refuse to believe and turn from the light into moral darkness where evil thoughts and actions are not so glaringly apparent. It is even possible to move so far away into the darkness of selfishness that the refusal of God’s offer of Light and Healing becomes permanent. And that is what is meant be eternal condemnation or hell; eternally fixed in one’s choice to refuse to love or to accept love.

Today’s Liturgy also reminds us that to do Penance; to learn to open, our secret, locked in hearts - to show the wounds to God and to welcome the Light and Warmth of His love. During these days of Lent we have the opportunity to take time out to consider the Good News, to recall what it means to be a follower of Jesus and to be prepared for a time of Surprising Grace. Here are some helpful hints to point you in the right direction in the remaining days of Lent:

Look about you every morning. God has given you this day and He wills to be with you as you go through it. It will not be important how much you will do for Him, but how much you are willing to let Him do for and through you. The thing that carried many people through the terrible experience of the concentration camps was Someone was concerned and was waiting! On a difficult day realizing that God is with you and loves you can be like the Light at the end of a dark tunnel.

Place a crucifix or picture of Christ in your home. Not hidden away in the bedroom but “lifted Up” in a place of honor to remind you and those who enter your home how much you are loved by God, your Savior and Healer.

Take advantage of appearing before God’s Mercy Seat in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, not as an Easter DUTY but to receive a gift from God, to hear Him say through His priest: “I know your sins and failures, but even so you are My beloved and Chosen Child.”

This Laetare Sunday resolve to do such things and you will discover Lent is a time of joy and light. It will remind you of Who God is, who we are and what we believe. It can be a time of grace when your heart is changed and you become whole and spiritually healthy for God’s Love is a recognized, vital part of your life.

– Fr. Seraphin Conley, T.O.R.

Lenten Reflection: Third Sunday of Lent

Cycle B
(Ex 20:1-17 or Ex 20:1-3, 7-8, 12-17; 1 Cor 1:22-25; Jn 2:13-25)

Growing up you could always tell when you entered a Catholic home because either at the entrance hall or in a place of honor in the parlor there would be a crucifix or a religious picture. There are all kinds of artistic depictions of Christ: good, bad, or indifferent. There are the “traditional” ones: the Good Shepherd, the Healer, the Teacher, surrounded by children, the Crucified, the Sacred Heart, etc. And some modern versions like the young, smiling, sun tanned Jesus who looks like a New Smyrna surfer coming in on a perfect wave! At different times in our lives, depending on the circumstances, one or the other of these images might appeal to us, might comfort or encourage us. But always with the caution that this familiar “Jesus” – made in Our Image and Likeness – may be quite unreal, quite able to be manipulated to approve whatever we do or leave our attitudes unchanged. Today we have an image of Christ who refuses to conform to our imagination: eyes flashing, hot with anger, making a whip, tipping over the money changers tables, spilling the coins and scattering the animals. I’m willing to bet that not too many people have that picture on their bedroom wall! Jesus seems so out of control, so unpredictable. Whereas all other images show Him completely serene and in control, even on the Cross.

What is happening here? At first the idea of money changers and people buying and selling oxen, sheep and doves seems pretty crass. But back then in Jerusalem these people were important for the Temple rituals. In occupied Palestine, the Roman coins used in commerce had images of Caesar on them. So just as in a foreign airport you have to change your dollars so these Roman coins had to be changed for special Temple coins. Also, pilgrims coming from afar would want the priests to offer a sacrifice in the Temple so they would need to buy the ritual animals needed. So the vendors were tolerated and assigned a special area of the Temple. Seems reasonable enough but not to Jesus that day because he saw that making profit had overturned God’s values in His very Temple. He is angered that the vendors have moved from the outside to inside the Temple Court . And perhaps there were dishonest practices of cheating the pilgrims with inflated prices for poor quality animals. The victims were almost always the poor pilgrims from out of town with no other choice.
As we have noted in the past weeks, St, Mark always has the identity of Jesus gradually revealed through the miracles. The 3 Synoptic Gospels (Mathew, Mark, Luke) recount this event as the catalyst for the Jewish leaders rush to judgement and condemnation. But St. John reverses the process in his Gospel. He doesn’t gradually lead us to the identity of Jesus, he has already revealed the Identity of Christ in the magnificent

Prologue to his Gospel that we read on Christmas Day: “In the beginning was The Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.” So John moves this event of the Temple Cleansing closer to the beginning of his Gospel. He is using this event of the Temple Cleansing to unfold our already known identity and mission of Jesus to set the stage and explain the rejection of Jesus by the religious leaders: “He came unto His own, and His own received Him not.” St. John is showing the that the long awaited Messias has arrived and He is burning with zeal for the Lord. When the Prophet Zacharias had commented on the coming of the Messias, he had written: “When that time comes there will no longer be any merchant in the Temple of the Lord Almighty” (Zech.14:21). There is a lesson about sincerity and reverence in our worship….but there is a much deeper meaning than cleaning up abuses in the Temple of some who had forgotten the reason for being there. The actions of Jesus are a proclamation that the promised New Era of the Messias has come. The Temple is no longer the Sign of God’s Presence. Now it is Jesus – Emmanuel/God with us – who is the New Temple the dwelling place of the Father. The new source of blessings. As Jesus answered those who asked what was the authority for His actions “Destroy this Temple and in three days I will raise it up.” They scoff and retort that it took 46 years to build it.

But John observes: “Actually, He was talking about the Temple of His Body.” The Body of Christ is the New Temple. After the Resurrection, a new, transfigured state helps it to be present at all times and in all places in the Eucharist. And our Eucharistic celebration renewing Christ’s Sacrifice on the Cross will do what the Temple was meant to do: praise God in sincere, loving worship and be a place of encounter between God and man.

During these days of Lent, may this image of the Zealous Jesus move us to honesty as we examine our lives. May Jesus send us His Spirit to cleanse our hearts and minds of self interest, or sinfulness or manipulation of Christ’s teaching to explain away or ignore what makes us uncomfortable or challenges us. May our hearts be filled with a Zeal or Enthusiasm for God’s House and a real commitment to the deeper meaning of God’s Commandments—or 10 Words – which as we prayed in the responsorial psalm are the “words of eternal life.”


– Fr. Seraphin Conley, T.O.R.

Lenten Reflection: Second Sunday of Lent

Cycle B
(Gn 22:1-2, 9a, 10-13, 15-18; Rom 8:31b-34; Mk 9:2-10)

One of the former presidents of CBS News—the parent company of WCCO—once made the astute observation: There are only two kinds of people in the world. Those who are there when I need them, and those who are not!

If we were to look at that quote in light of the first reading today, we’d have to conclude that Abraham was the first kind of person. When God called him, he answered. “Here I am.” When God asked him to leave his homeland and his kin at an old age and go into a wilderness...an unknown place... he answered, “Here I am.” And he went. And when God asked him to sacrifice the person he loved most in this world—his beloved son—Abraham was even willing to do that. His life is an astonishing chronicle of great faith and obedience. No matter what, he seemed to be ready for whatever God might ask of him. As we hear this reading and consider the person of Abraham, we need to ask ourselves if we have even a fraction of his trust and faith in God and whether we would be able to answer God with such obedience and spontaneity. How many of us are able to say to God, no matter what he asks, “Here I am.” These days I think that kind of devotion is rare, if it exists at all.

Lent is a beautiful time to reflect on that...what God may be asking of us and how willing we are to respond. We can all take time during this season and offer ourselves...to neighbor who is lonely...here I am...at the soup kitchen when volunteers are needy to feed the hungry poor...here I am...to the spouse or child or friend you’ve taken for granted...here I am...to a God whom you’ve neglected, a faith you’ve overlooked, or a prayer life that has become stagnant...here I am.

Lent offers us a chance to remember what matters, to strip away what’s unimportant, and to once again make ourselves present, especially to God, trusting that he will use us as he wants. That kind of faith made Abraham the father of a great nation. It led Jesus to a mountaintop, where—as the gospel tells us today—he was transfigured. That mysterious moment was Christ’s own statement to the world of who he was; another way of saying , “Here I am.” He will say it to us again when the host is elevated. We will look at it in adoration and, without speaking a word, Christ will say, “Here I am.” Here I am...offered, sacrificed, and broken...and as he gives himself to us, he challenges us to do the same. It’s an invitation to change our hearts and, in a sense, be transfigured.

On Ash Wednesday, St. Paul told us that now is the “acceptable time” to make that happen. So how will be respond to the invitation and challenge of Christ? Remember, there are only two kinds of people in the world. Those who are there when they are needed, and those who aren’t! Which will we be?


— Fr. Anthony M. Criscitelli, T.O.R.

Lenten Reflection: First Sunday of Lent

Cycle B
(Gn 9:8-15; 1 Pt 3:18-22; Mk 1:12-15)

One of the qualities that marked the life of Christ was compassion. He saw someone sick or in need and he responded with compassion. The crowds were hungry on the mountain and he responded with compassion. He came across someone seeking forgiveness and he responded with compassion. As disciples of Christ, we want to try to model that behavior in our own life and cultivate a spirit of compassion. However, we often get compassion confused with pity. And pity, trying to pass itself off as compassion, is anything but that. In fact, in the Buddhist tradition, pity is seen as the enemy of compassion. Pity says something like this, “What she is going though just horrifies me and I feel sorry for her.” Being repelled by what someone else is dealing with, we actually separate ourselves from that person and maybe even feel a bit superior.

Compassion, on the other hand, is based on love and it draws us deep into others’ lives to walk with them in their pain. It also makes us vulnerable to one another, taking us deep into some of the most profound human experiences. Interestingly, the Buddhist term for compassion is karuna, which means “quaking heart.” And the corresponding term from the New Testament—compassion as Jesus understands it—is splanknizomai, which means “moved to the bowels”—moved to the very center of who we are. Given that, it’s not surprising that compassion has such a profound effect on us and bonds us strongly to another. Consider someone who has entered your life with great compassion at a time when you have been particularly hurting. Or consider a time when you may have done this for another. The bond forged in those moments is not easily forgotten. How could it be, when you have shared such vulnerability; when your hearts quaked together and your souls were stirred to their very foundations?

On this first Sunday of Lent, we hear a familiar and predictable passage from St. Mark’s gospel...a passage that speaks to us, albeit briefly, about Jesus’ temptations in the desert. It was a time of great vulnerability when Jesus came to realize his life was not his own and one of gthe great lessons he learned in the desert was that he could count on the compassion of the Father not only in that moment, but throughout his ministry. The first reading, as well as the reading from the First Letter of Peter recalls Noah and the great flood as a sign of baptism, which saves us from sin and death. In compassion, God gives us this sacrament which frees us from a lifetime of slavery to sin and holds out to us the possibility of eternal life. More, Peter also tells us that out of compassion “Jesus went to preach to the spirits” bringing his saving presence to those in Sheol, a world of no hope, no life, and no God. It was the darkest possible place of the human condition and there, he bought love and compassion. Having come to know the compassion of the Father, Jesus “pays it forward” and wants us to know that we can rely on his compassion not only in our moments of desolation, but in all the moments of our life.

Similarly, we who rely on and are the beneficiaries of the compassion of Christ, are to show cultivate and show compassion to other. These Scriptures remind us that whatever else we do during these weeks of Lent, we would do well to consider them as a particular time of compassion—entering into the human condition with an engagement that moves us to our depths. The traditional three practices of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving move us in that direction. We pray so that we can more enter more deeply into relationship with the God who has called us into being and seeks to draw us into his love. We fast to bond with the two billion people around the world who go to bed hungry each night. We give alms to free ourselves from greed and become free for union with those in great need...who have no choice but to do without, sometimes because of our having too much. Lent is a time to be especially mindful of our capacity for compassion. It calls us, like Christ, to enter more deeply into human existence with great vulnerability and great love...to live with a quaking heart.


— Fr. Anthony M. Criscitelli, T.O.R.

Scripture Reflection: Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle B
(Is 43:18-19, 21-22, 24b-25; 2 Cor 1:18-22; Mk 2:1-12)

Years ago, Jim Carey starred in a movie called “Yes Man.” He played a character who was so stuck in the past that he could not be open to any present opportunities. The operative word in his life was “no.” No to anything that might disturb his comfort…no to anything that he might disturb his routine…no to anything that might cause him to have to change. It doesn’t take us long to see that although his heart and lungs and brain are still working, he has really died. Finally recognizing that he has a problem and that he cannot go on this way, he registers for a self-help group in which he is told that he must begin to learn to say “yes” to every opportunity that comes his way. This, of course, leads to many comical moments in the course of the movie, but even as he endures everything that befalls him, he begins to recognize that something important is happening; he is coming to life again. No longer stuck in the past or afraid to try something new, he enjoys a whole new outlook on life.

On this last weekend before we enter into the Season of Lent, the Church presents us with Scriptures that offer us a similar message. In the first reading, the Prophet Isaiah is addressing the people of Israel who are exiled in Babylon. They have been taken captive by foreigners and are separated from all that is dear and familiar to them. Earlier on, Isaiah spoke words of comfort to them, reminding them of God’s fidelity and encouraging them to be hopeful. But now the prophet takes a different,
harsher tact with them. Isaiah cautions them, “Remember not the deeds of the past.” At a time when all they could hold on to were their memories of how things used to be was the prophet being more than a little insensitive? Not really. Isaiah was not telling them not to have memories ; rather he was telling them not to live in their memories—not to cling so hard to the past that they were unable to respond to the call of God in the present. If they were going to know hope for new life, they had to
let go of the past and learn to live and act differently.

This is a danger we can all succumb to from time to time—living in the past, glorifying a time or moment in our history –personally or as a community—to the point that we get stuck and cannot move beyond it. In admonishing the people of Israel to “not remember the deeds of the past” Isaiah is reminding them that when they are stuck in the past, they cease to live. Living and discipleship involves an openness to change and moving forward. If we are stuck in the past, we miss what is
happening in the present moment and we cannot plan for a future filled with life and growth.

In a different way, that same dynamic is at work in the Gospel. The man with paralysis wants to change. He wants to reclaim his life, stop lamenting about his condition, and move on. Although he desires to say “yes” to what he believes Jesus can do for him, he finds himself unable to get access to Jesus and so he calls upon the community to help him. When others come to his aid and find an alternative way to gain access to Jesus, he is able to realize his hope of new and restored life. On the surface, we may think this is simply another miracle story—a physical healing. But on another—deeper—level there is another equally important miracle for our consideration: the miracle of what happens when we are willing to let go of the past and turn to the strength of the community to support us in our desire

We all deal with paralysis from time to time. We are paralyzed when we get stuck in the past…when we refuse to accept change in our lives…when we are afraid to speak our yes to what God might be asking of us in the present moment…when we desire to change, but don’t know if we can do it by ourselves. At those moments, we need—like the people in the gospel—to come together as a community to strengthen one another and ultimately know the fullness of life God desires for us.


— Fr. Anthony M. Criscitelli, T.O.R.

Scripture Reflection: Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle B
(Lv 13:1-2, 44-46; 1 Cor 10:31-11:1; Mk 1:40-45)

Leprosy, or Hansen’s Disease, has been pretty well eradicated or at least controlled in modern times, but in Jesus’s day it was the most dreaded of all diseases. Not only the inevitable physical disfigurement but the banishment from society as a precaution was often a virtual death sentence. The afflicted person was deprived of family and community support at the very time of greatest vulnerability. Even into the last century, the Government of Hawaii sent all lepers to the dreaded island of Molokai (Now ironically a tourist destination!!). The Christ-like charity of Fr. Damian who accepted exile to serve these poor people and who eventually became a leper is one of the great glories of the Catholic Church.

The event in today’s Gospel is really extraordinary. When this man covered with scabs or flaking white scales approached Jesus seeking a cure he was way out of line. He had no business going near where people gathered without warning them. And Jesus response was astonishing not only did He welcome the man but He reached out and touched him! By law anyone who came in contact with a leper was rendered ritually unclean and so was unfit for worship. But Jesus obeys a higher law charity is higher than any man made law. Then Jesus wanted to change their attitudes towards lepers - Now He wants to change our attitudes towards the “outcasts” or those pushed aside in our society.

In our times for all our modern science and medical advances there are still diseases or conditions which grip the heart with fear and dread: Alzheimer, AIDS, cancer, etc. And there are those with serious illness even when not contagious - or those grieving the death of a loved one who are often avoided because they remind us of our own mortality and vulnerability. So we practice Out of sight, out of mind. We avoid visiting the hospital or the funeral home leaving the afflicted to their isolation! But WWJD –What would Jesus do? The Gospels give us more than a hint!

St. Mark wrote the most vivid Gospel account...... with many concrete details and descriptions of the human emotions of Jesus. His style helps us to “feel” the texture of the story, to listen with our imaginations and seeing what Jesus is doing draws us to want “to know Him more clearly, love Him more dearly, follow Him more nearly”. So, Mark writes Jesus was “moved with pity.” Just three words but they tell us so much. Biblical pity is a powerful emotion like a gut reaction, coming from deep within a person, which feels the pain of another. It contains the compassion and love ..perhaps best expressed in the phrase “My heart went out to him.”

But Pity moves beyond a feeling to action...to do something. It gets a person involved in finding a solution to another’s problem ---- either relieving their misery if possible, or at least standing beside them so they are not alone in bearing their pain. Our English word “compassion” stresses the idea of “passion”. So biblical “pity” is not standing on the sidelines wringing one’s hands but stirs us up to do something with passion!

Jesus responded to the Leper’s wonderful plea of faith in His healing power. “If You wish, you can make me clean.” Christ answers simply and directly “I do want to.” The whole life of Jesus consists of the desire of God to help those in trouble, to give to those who have the seed of faith His healing presence. And we see the beginning of how costly it was to Jesus. In a sense, after this work of mercy, He becomes “the leper” and can no longer enter the towns to preach for the crowds enthusiastically search Him out.

Mark’s Gospel reminds us that true discipleship entails more than praising Jesus as a wonder worker and a solution to our problems. As the text shows He is certainly not indifferent to our situation....watching from on high at a safe distance. The well regarded Scripture scholar Fr. Carroll Stuhlmueller, CP has been pointed out that Jesus never stays in Jerusalem but often at Bethany a few miles away. The name means “House of the Lowly” and was the closest lepers could come to the Holy City. From its hilltop they could only look towards the Temple where God’s People worshiped...and they could not, so the Son of God came to them. Our Lord was quick to reach out to touch the leper and we remember how He has touched us, especially through the Sacraments of Reconciliation and the Eucharist. He continues to touch whatever has lessened human life through us a people formed by the Gospels to be able to ask and answer the question: What Would Jesus Do? And strengthened by the Sacraments to do it!!


– Fr. Seraphin Conley, T.O.R.

Scripture Reflection: Fifth Sunday of Ordinary Time

Cycle B
(Jb 7:1-4, 6-7; 1 Cor 9:16-19, 22-23; Mk 1:29-39)

We begin with an overview of Sunday’s Liturgy. The first reading surely has to be one of the most depressing in the lectionary. Job is broken hearted and totally depressed. He sees this as the universal human condition. This is what Jesus has come to redeem in His ministry of preaching the Kingdom which begins with the healing of Peter’s mother-in-law and then all who come to Him. And this service to all both weak and strong is what Paul accepts as his duty and each Christian’s. Through our participation in the Eucharist and our personal prayer our own lives are healed and we are strengthened to follow Christ in care for others. Jesus directs our eyes towards those who suffer the tragedies of life. He shows us how to grasp their hands, to help them up, to bind up wounds, and to be healers.

In our reflection on today’s readings, we start with the Book of Job who is usually seen as the story of a good man whose faith is tested through suffering. In the end he will prove to be the faithful believer in God’s mercy although still not understanding God’s ways. But in today’s passage of his lament Job certainly does not seem to be the poster boy for the popular expression: “As patient as Job!” The popular wisdom of the ancients would hold that if you suffer well then you must have done something wrong and offended God in some way. Job is not about to patiently accept this. He protests vocally and eloquently that he has done nothing wrong so why is God allowing these terrible things to be happening? And when we hear his complaint there is the uncomfortable feeling that no matter how successful our lives, or how well off, or even how good, we might be walking on thin ice and at any moment it could break through. We hear of the divorce of close friends, of a serious sickness striking someone our own age, or watching the spectacular sinking of the Costa Concordia on its routine sailing and the weeping and anxious faces of passengers and rescuers. And, more than an uncomfortable feeling comes the terrifying question: “Is there a God out there who cares what happens to each and every one of us?” It calls for both faith and courage to believe that God really does heal the brokenhearted; a faith which rests on a solid foundation.


And perhaps this is why the Gospel of St. Mark at its outset shows the encounters with Christ over a broad range of experiences. The ground of the real world in the midst of people with real afflictions, obsessions and interior injuries is the ground on which Jesus sets out to proclaim the Good News. The Gospel gives us a foundation for faith when it shows Jesus healing with a gentle touch and words of power. The ancient world believed the world was locked in mortal combat between forces of good and evil represented by angels and demons. So the Gospel text is not simply about healing and exorcism but is showing the power of God in Jesus casting out the forces of evil in our world and establishing there the Kingdom of God. In describing the healing of Simon’s mother in law, Mark uses expressions which sound quite ordinary but are anything but. Jesus “helped her up.” This is the same expression often used in the New Testament resurrection stories. Mark is implying that this person is given a new life - a life that only the Risen Christ can give.

And what does this “new life” look like? Well, Mark says that when she was healed, the woman began to “wait on them.” But the word he uses is “diakoneo,” the word for Church work or Christian Service. Again, the implication is that she “waits” on the Community, she serves i.e. does the work of the Community. When people experience a new life from Christ then they want to share and they are able to serve others. And so many involved in this “deaconal” work of serving, helping others as Jesus did them, say that they get more out of what they do than what they put into it. As the Peace Prayer of St. Francis reminds us: “In giving, we receive”.

Suffering remains a mystery for us as it did for Job. What we heard in today’s Gospel is not a solution to the mystery but the Power of Jesus over suffering. He takes on our suffering so that we can be set free. We celebrate today that what Jesus did for Simon’s mother in law and those afflicted by pain and evil, He can do for us. He extends His hand to us, to raise us from the destructive, deadly forces of pride, anger, envy, gluttony, lust, avarice and sloth to New Life.

His new life doesn’t resolve the mystery for us. It gives us the power to see the needs of others and to be free to respond to make time for the children, to take care of aging parents, to mending marriages or friendships, to patiently soldier on after misfortune. In other words, in your own quiet ways, to do as Jesus did. And may He bless you in the doing!


– Fr. Seraphin Conley, T.O.R.