#no but fr I love him so much and I hope to summon the ST fans that follow me with this

[angelofbloodlust]

Coming clean y’all, the real reason it’s taking me so long to write again is bc of Eddie Munson 😔💔 he’s so fine and I am a thirsty woman

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

Thine Enemy is Sweet (Part 13)

Part One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve

“Excuse me?”

Nott’s voice was barely heard over the sound of dozens of people talking at once. It was deafening and Harry felt as if they were the centre of attention even more than they were before.

“I always thought there was something weird about the engagement.”

“To think she would have been a Malfoy!”

“Personally, I would have chosen Nott.”

“Really? I’m the opposite.”

“Neither options are any good.”

“Shh!”

“Let’s go somewhere private and talk,” Astoria hedged, hands wringing and eyes wary. “This doesn’t have to become a public spectacle.”

“Too late for that,” Parkinson snorted, quill scratching quicker against the parchment.

“No,” Nott gestured towards her and then Malfoy. “I want to know what he means. When I signed the marital contract, there was nothing about prior engagements.”

“That’s because we were never engaged,” Astoria said, voice coming out in a rush. “You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to—”

“Oh, don’t lie to him,” Malfoy interrupted, his free hand resting on his hip. “We both know the end of that sentence wouldn’t have gone over well.”

“Draco.” Astoria’s jaw was clenched, and her eyes narrowed harshly.

Malfoy ignored her as he looked at Nott. There was something bittersweet about the gaze and Harry wondered if he’d see the situation the same. Nott was an arse, knob, prat, prick and every other insult but he had been a part of his life. He always thought seeing Nott happy would be hard, but he just felt nothing. The anger of the engagement had mostly dissipated, and he honestly just wanted his ring and then to go home.

“Do you remember what you told me when I last mentioned marriage?” Malfoy asked.

Nott looked away but said nothing. The silence was a cop-out.

“Because I do.” Malfoy chuckled but it was dry and humourless.

“It was right after you told me you’d found someone else. I asked about our future, we had once talked about marriage, talked about a forever. I didn’t understand what had happened or where it went wrong and then…”

The energy around them picked up and Harry was a little worried. Part of him wondered if summoning a shield would help. He was loath to help Nott, but Malfoy’s magic was a bit wild when emotional.  

“You told me that you wouldn’t settle for someone you couldn’t use.”

What?

Nott’s eyes closed when a few people in the crowd made outraged noises. Parkinson booed.

Screw the shield, Nott could take whatever Malfoy threw at him.

Malfoy took a deep breath as his hand tightened around Harry’s. “Back then I thought you were just trying to hurt me. Say whatever you knew would work. But then I discovered a pattern.”

Parkinson leaned forward, quill in the air poised and ready.

“I was the one who brought up marriage. After that, our relationship went to shit, and you left.”

A numb feeling began to take root and Harry’s stomach dropped. No.

“And then with Potter, the papers said he proposed. The articles were filled with glowing praises, your happy faces and stories of how ideal the relationship was. At least for a little while, right?” Malfoy mocked.

“Suddenly the papers were reporting on your amicable split. It was weird to me,” Malfoy shook his head. “Potter proposes and not even a fortnight later you were gone.”

Harry’s hands shook and he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear more. He had always known Nott was despicable but had the whole relationship been a deception? Had it ever meant anything to him?

“Your parting words were still true,” Malfoy whispered. “Marriage to either of us was never in your plans. You used us until it wasn’t beneficial.”  

The urge to leave grew stronger and Harry wasn’t sure he could stay. Had Malfoy always known? Had he kept quiet on purpose? Why wouldn’t he have said something?

“I used to pray you’d find your match,” Malfoy continued, a cruel tilt of his lips. “That one day someone would do the same to you. That you would know how it felt to be thrown away like that.”

“You’re wrong,” Nott said. “You’re seeing things where there is none.”

“But then,” Malfoy continued, pointedly ignoring him completely. “Astoria came along. I never dreamed that she would get me what I wanted.”

When Nott looked at her, she shook her head rapidly and her hands were raised in defence. “I don’t know what he’s talking about. I’m not a part of this.”

“Not intentionally, at least,” Malfoy mused, a small quirk of his lips.

“Astoria came to me a few weeks before you two started dating. She wanted to enter a marital contract. One of status, wealth and a merging of our assets. All business and no pleasure.”

“Not all business,” Astoria mumbled, and Malfoy’s anger cracked—briefly—as his lips twitched.

“It’s the same contract you currently have,” Malfoy shrugged. “One my parents had as well. But I never wanted that. I didn’t want to hope to love my partner, I didn’t want to one day tolerate them, I didn’t want business. I wanted love.”

Astoria looked down and Harry got the impression that she might have already been half-way there to loving Malfoy.

“As much as I like you, Astoria, I didn’t love you and I didn’t think that would change.”

“I know.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“But then,” Any hint of a smile vanished as he looked back to Nott, who was looking between them with wariness. “She got with you. I had assumed you had said yes where I had said no. Maybe you decided to stop using people, maybe you figured a contract would get you what you wanted.”

When Malfoy smirked, the maliciousness was back, and it still made Harry anxious. “At least I did, until I realized that you proposed.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry whispered. What did it matter who proposed if it was a contact?

“Most people who enter contracts don’t throw an engagement party,” Malfoy explained, thumb rubbing the back of his hand. “They skip the engagement process entirely and only hold the bonding ceremony.”

“So we did things a little bit differently,” Nott stood up straighter and looked at Astoria, who wouldn’t meet his eyes either. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“You fell in love,” Malfoy said, a touch of awe in his voice. “The moment I found out you had proposed, I knew. I didn’t think it was possible. You use everyone you can, suck the life out them, leave behind insecurities that take years to get over and yet, you succumbed to the one thing you never truly gave us. Love.”

“What does it matter?” Nott scoffed. “Is it jealousy? I’m in love with my fiancé, oo shocking, truly ground-breaking.”

When Astoria finally looked up, her eyes were on Malfoy and they were pleading.

“Draco,” she begged, voice barely above a whisper and the emotion in it was palpable. But what was she pleading for?

“You fell in love with someone who couldn’t love you back.”

Nott’s hands fell limply to his side as he turned to Astoria, devastation and confusion already taking root.

“What? What’s he talking about?”

Astoria’s head tilted back as she blinked up at the ceiling.

“What was it you told me, Astoria? That I wasn’t just your first choice, I was your only choice,” Malfoy placed a hand on his chin. “Something about how you detested any other eligible options. How your parents would disown you if the Greengrass surname fell out of the sacred 28. That you didn’t want love, that you wanted a merge and that was it.”

“Astoria,” Nott whispered. His eyes had tears in them and that surprised Harry. He had never seen Nott cry, not during their fights, not when they broke up—never.

“When I jokingly said Nott was available, what was it you said?”

“Draco, why are you doing this?” She asked instead.

“What was it you said,” Malfoy repeated. “Go on, tell us.”

She shook her head, hands clenched and eyes back on the ceiling.

“What. Was. It. You. Said?” Malfoy said, jaw clenched and eyes hard, each word purposefully accentuated.

Her shoulders slumped and he could see the fight seep out of her.

“That I’d have to be desperate,” Astoria whispered before she covered her mouth and her shoulders shook.

Nott took in a shaky breath as he took a step toward her. “Tell me he’s lying.”

Astoria closed her eyes tightly.

“Tell me you love me.”

Her shoulders shook harder and Harry knew she was crying.

“Tell me!”

When her hand fell away, and her teary eyes locked with Nott, Astoria shook her head.

“I’m sorry,” her breath came in gasps. “But I don’t love you. I never did.”

Nott took a step forward, hand held out before it fell limply once more. “But I thought—”

“I thought you knew,” she wiped her eyes. “It’s all in the contract. I thought you understood what you were getting into.”

“What do you mean? I told you I loved you!”

“I never said it back!”

Nott licked his lips nervously as his eyes looked around the room. “I thought you’d grow to love me as I love you. I thought you showed your love in different ways. I thought—”

“I could never love you.” Her voice was quiet, hoarse and it carried. The statement preceded a crack of an apparation—she was gone.

Nott staggered back and he clutched his chest. His breaths were coming in ragged and his knees buckled.

“Whoa!” Someone in the crowd yelled. “He’s in shock. Do we have a healer in the room?”

“Stand back,” Ron shoved people aside. “That means you too pointy,” he said as he elbowed an older man to the side.

Ron pulled out his wand as he knelt on the ground, one hand rested on the back of Nott’s back.

“It hurts,” gasped Nott.

“Where?” Ron waved his wand several more times when Nott pointed at his chest.

“I’m not showing any spikes in pain levels. Your heart is racing and your eyes—” Ron moved his hand to open Nott’s eyes wider. “Have you taken any medicinal spells?”

Nott’s eyes began to tear up and Harry could see the streak it left on his cheeks.

“Just for my headache.”

“What kind of spell was it? Pain reliever? Relaxant? I can try some absorbent spells if that’s the case, but that’s all I can do unless we get you to St. Mungo’s for further testing.”

“It’s an experimental relaxant,” Nott said, hand clenching the front of his robes as more tears fell. “I was told it was a combination of relaxants, pain reliever and a mood stabilizer. It’s the only thing that helps.”

“You moron,” Ron shook his head. “Experimental spells are risky enough, but you should never try medicinal ones.”

Muffled grumblings was all Harry could hear as Ron continued to cast spells before his head snapped up.

“Wait, did you say mood stabilizer?”

Nott tried to speak but he couldn’t, breath coming too fast and his eyes were blinking through the tears.

Ron’s eyes narrowed before he looked at Malfoy. “You knew.”

“Of course I did.”

“What’s going on?” Harry looked between Malfoy, Ron and then Nott.

Malfoy let go of his hand to walk forward, a silencing charm casted over the four of them with a wave of his hand. Nott’s eyes widened the closer Malfoy came towards him.  

“You were so insistent on the damn plants,” Ron snarled, a hand raised as a buffer between Malfoy and Nott.

“The peppermint plants?” Harry asked as he followed Malfoy. He was so confused.

“Peppermint is unstable when combined with certain spells or potions, including mood stabilizers,” Ron said. “It warps the medicine, amplifies emotions instead.”

Nott glared at Malfoy as he tried to sit up.

“With the amount of peppermint in this room, Nott is experiencing at least ten times what he should be.”

“And what is he experiencing?”

“Heartbreak,” Malfoy whispered, a small smile on his face. “I wanted you to feel it. I wanted you to know the crushing pain of what you cause. If she was going to break your heart, I wanted it to break unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Pain tenfold is the least you deserve.”

Nott’s eyes closed tightly as a sob left him. “Hurts.”

“It’s not a nice feeling, is it?” Malfoy drawled. “Feels like your body can’t contain it, feels like part of you has gone, a piece that you’ll never get back. You use people, throw them away like they are nothing and it’s about time you know how that feels.”

“It didn’t have to be like this,” Ron argued as another sob left Nott. “This is cruel.”

“And what he’s done isn’t?” Malfoy crossed his arms. “Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.”

Harry had always wondered if Nott would ever know the pain he had gone through when their relationship ended, wondered if Nott would ever realize just how much it had hurt him. But as he watched the way Nott clutched his chest, snot dripped from his nose and never ending tears fell down his cheeks, he knew that this wasn’t it. This was never what he wanted.

“I know the pain you went through,” Harry said as he turned towards Malfoy. “I went through it too. Maybe not the same degree or circumstances but I do understand.”

Malfoy parted his lips, but Harry held up a hand.

“But not like this,” he shook his head. “This is too much for me. Look at him, he can’t even breathe right!”

“Oh, now it’s too much?” Malfoy snarled. “It wasn’t too much when you came to me begging for this. You wanted to come here, you started it!”

“I didn’t ask for this!” Harry threw his hands in the air. “I didn’t know that you’d go this far.”

“Don’t play dumb, Potter, it’s not a good look,” Malfoy argued. “You knew exactly the kind of person I am; you knew I wouldn’t do things morally, and yet you came to me. You wanted him to hurt and you know it.”

Did he though? Harry bit his lip as he looked down at Nott. Part of him, a small part, had hoped Nott would see them and regret how he had treated them. But physical pain? Emotional pain to this degree? Never.

“I’m not that kind of person, Malfoy. I thought you knew that!”

“Revenge changes people,” Malfoy said, eyes cold and it was familiar in the way that it tore at his heart. “You can’t want revenge and still be moral, Potter. You’re my accomplice whether you like it or not.”

“I just wanted my ring back,” Harry whispered, his hands pulling at his hair. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

Nott’s brows furrowed and Harry wondered what he had been thinking when giving the ring to Astoria. Had he even thought about him? Ever once stop to think that perhaps using the same ring was wrong? Tacky even?

Something brushed against his leg but before he could pull out his wand, he could see movement on Malfoy’s shoulder, and knew it was Bandit. A quick glance around the room and he could see people arguing with each other, fingers pointed at others and guests frantically checking their robes. It would seem they had already noticed they had been robbed.

“Here,” Malfoy held out his hand and against his better judgment, Harry held out his too.

The press of cold metal on his palm had him holding on tightly, and his fingers shook. His ring.

Harry opened his hand and he hated that his eyes stung. He had loved Nott. Truly loved him. It had taken him months to get the design right. Ginny taught him how to make it himself, spent so many hours in her shop. It had been a labour of love, one that went to someone who had never loved him.

It hurt then, and it still hurt now, however dim the dull ache was.

But no matter how much pain he had gone through, he couldn’t look at Nott hurting and call it justification. It went against every fibre of his being.

“I have to get him to St. Mungo’s,” Ron said as he sent out a Patronus. “Emotional trauma or intense heartbreak can lead to heart failure. With the amount of peppermint plants here, I can’t take any chances.”

Ron stood up when a team of people apparated into the room. They all wore uniforms that matched St. Mungo’s. Harry had heard of emergency apparations, but never witnessed any.

“I’ve stabilized him the best I can,” Ron explained to the only one wearing the blue uniform of a Healer.  “But he needs to be monitored immediately. Mood stabilizers were applied in the vicinity of peppermint plants.”

The healer grimaced before she gestured her team forward and started issuing commands.

“They’ll take care of you,” Ron promised Nott right before two arms grabbed hold of him and they apparated out.

Ron sheathed his wand as he stood up before he jabbed Malfoy in the chest, hard.

“You are lucky Nott applied the spell himself or I would have you brought up on charges. If he dies, that’s on you.”

Malfoy jerked away from Ron’s hands.

“If you ever do something like that around me again, I’ll take you to the Aurors myself.”

Malfoy scoffed as he moved away from another hard jab.

“My wife is the head of the MLE, so don’t think I’m taking the piss.”

Ron lowered the silencing charm right as the crack of several apparations echoed around the room.

“Quiet!” A familiar voice shouted; voice amplified by magic. “We have gotten reports of an unusual amount of thefts and no one is to leave until questioned by my Aurors.”

“You called your wife!” Malfoy hissed as he took a step back towards Neville, Dean and Seamus who had moved up.

Ron blinked a few times before he shook his head. “Not this time. I only sent the Patronus to St. Mungo’s. She’s going to kill me if she finds out.”

Hermione walked around the room, eyes tracking several guests before they fell on their group. Her shoulders slumped before she rubbed her temples and moved forward.

“Why is it always you guys?”  

Harry held up his hands. “I don’t think that’s a fair assessment. Last time it was Seamus’ fault. He—”

“Harry, shut up.”

“I’ll have you know that it wasn’t my fault last time,” Seamus argued. “How was I supposed to know the guy was an undercover Auror?”

“Seamus,” Hermione hissed, and Seamus moved behind Parkinson who looked between everyone with interest, almost gleefully.

“I’ve worked 60 hours this week and I’m going to have to pull a double to investigate whatever the hell happened here,” she gestured towards the wreckage around the room.

“What are you guys even doing here?”

As one, they all looked towards Malfoy who took a step back.

“Malfoy?” Hermione pulled out a small notebook and started to take notes.

“I asked Harry to be my date here. His friends came along, that’s all.”

The notebook fell out of her hands.

“Date?” She eyed Harry suspiciously. “Why didn’t I know about this?”

“I told Ron!”

“Oi!” Ron kicked him in the shin. When Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, his shoulders slumped. “Okay, I was going to tell you but—wait, why is it my fault Harry didn’t tell you?”

Hermione pulled Ron aside as two Aurors began to talk to his friends. Harry was left with Malfoy and it was uncomfortable.

He looked up at Malfoy and was torn. There was something there, something between them. Something he had wanted to explore. But now? Now he wasn’t so sure.

Malfoy ran his fingers through his hair before he looked up. “Look, I—”

“Would you do that to me?”

“What?” Malfoy’s brows arched.

“If we continued as we had been, would you have done this to me if it ended badly? Like Nott?”

“No.”

“How do I know that?”

“You aren’t him, Harry. You don’t hurt people just because you can.”

Harry’s head jerked. “But you do.”

Malfoy sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it though? You used to, and you hurt him easily.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Malfoy said, hands at his sides. “I wrestled with it, wondering if I could pull it off, and then whether I should. As much as I have moved on from Nott, the bitter hurt didn’t disappear. I hated him more than my reformed morals wanted to let it go.

“Revenge was always a what if, a thought when I couldn’t sleep, and my mind wandered. A fantasy in the shower when I couldn’t focus. It was just a half formed idea that I never thought would happen. But then you came along and suddenly it stopped being a what if.”

“Was it worth it? The revenge?”

“I don’t know,” Malfoy whispered. “I haven’t had much time to process it.”

“I have and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget it,” Harry stepped away when Malfoy moved to comfort him. “I don’t like hurting people and I played a part in tonight. Part of this is on me.”

“I never factored you in when I thought about revenge,” Malfoy murmured. “You almost changed my mind, almost had me throwing it away for your naive plan.”

“Almost isn’t enough.”

“What would you have done if I had told you what I had planned?” Malfoy asked, there was a dull quality to his drawl and Harry hated it. Hated that he wanted the smirks, the little smiles, the sparkling eyes.

“I would have stopped you.” Of that, he was sure.

“I knew that too,” Malfoy said. “I wanted to keep you at arm’s length, I wanted to make it emotionless but then—” his eyes closed, and Harry wished he’d shut up.

“The less I told you, the less it would fall on you.”

“Is that your twisted way of saying you were protecting me?”

Malfoy shrugged with one shoulder. “It was my loophole. I got to keep going, and you wouldn’t be held accountable.”

“You always get what you want in the end, don’t you?”

“I’m selfish like that.” Malfoy took a deep breath. “I don’t bring good headlines, I don’t bring good conversations, I don’t bring good energy and I surely don’t bring good company.”

“Don’t,” Harry blinked rapidly, trying to keep his eyes from stinging. “Don’t repeat his words like this.”

“They’re true, I tried to warn you. I’m not good, Potter. You’ve always known that.”

There was, Harry knew there was good in him, he’d seen it. But he wasn’t stupid enough to disregard everything else, not after tonight.

“There’s so much I want to tell you,” whispered Malfoy and his eyes were glassy. “But I think they should stick with me.”

Harry knew what Malfoy was asking. He wanted Harry to extend the olive branch, to invite him in but he wasn’t sure he could. His heart and his mind were telling him two different things. His heart wanted Malfoy, it had for a while, but his head was so confused.

He had been silent for too long and Malfoy looked at the ceiling as a huff of air left him.

“I want the best for you,” Malfoy said, voice cracking. “You deserve that much, deserve someone who matches what you offer. I get that it’s not me, and that’s okay.”

“Malfoy.”

“I’ll see you around, Harry.” His eyes were closed but Harry could see that his eyelashes were wet.

“Draco, wait.”

Silver eyes looked at him, tears pooling in the corners and Harry couldn’t help but raise his hand to wipe them away.

“What are you thinking as you look at me right now?”

Draco’s eyes closed and he felt more wetness on his fingers.

Nothing was said and the only answer he got was a shake of Draco’s head before he was gone. Apparated away, leaving only tears on Harry’s fingertips and an emptiness that he wasn’t sure could be filled.

“Harry?”

He turned to see his friends and couldn’t hide what he was feeling if he tried.

“It was never real, was it?” Ron asked as Neville gaped.

Harry shook his head as he lost the battle of his stinging eyes.

“You fell for him anyway.”

It wasn’t a question, but Harry nodded as Ron pulled him into a hug and he clung to his robes tightly. More arms wrapped around him and he welcomed the company, welcomed the group hug.  

Harry was used to heartbreak, felt it many times over but he had never experienced it when the person had never been his to begin with. But as he stood there in his friend’s arms, surrounded by frustrated guests and confused Aurors, Harry wondered if it was deserved.

An eye for an eye, only this time it was heartbreak. They got Nott, but at the cost of their own hearts.

-TBC-

-------

Ahh. Okay, I’m super nervous about this chapter. I reread it so many times, it just made me more nervous. I left a long note on Ao3 for this chatper if anyone wants to look it over. Cliffnote version, whether you agree with Draco’s choices or not, that doesn’t define the character and we are all welcome to our own opinions. I couldn’t have comfortably written Harry without inner turmoil over his morals and then Draco’s. Harry’s characterization and how much he cares for others will always stand out to me. 

While I might think Nott deserved it, others might not, and that’s okay. I do hope you enjoyed this update. Remember that I have more coming and this is not the end of it. I wouldn’t end it like this, I couldn’t. I cried a little bit shkss but I’m a big baby so y’all might roll your eyes over that.I’m nervous about posting this hhhh. 

Thank you for everyone who has stuck with me for so long! 

---

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[frmartinshomiliesandreflections]

28th October >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Luke 6:12-19 for the Feast of Saints Simon and Jude: ‘He summoned his disciples and picked out twelve of them’.

Feast of Saints Simon and Jude

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Luke 6:12-16

Jesus chooses his twelve apostles

Jesus went out into the hills to pray; and he spent the whole night in prayer to God. When day came he summoned his disciples and picked out twelve of them; he called them ‘apostles’: Simon whom he called Peter, and his brother Andrew; James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James son of Alphaeus, Simon called the Zealot, Judas son of James, and Judas Iscariot who became a traitor.

Gospel (USA)

Luke 6:12-16

From them Jesus chose Twelve, whom he also named Apostles.

Jesus went up to the mountain to pray, and he spent the night in prayer to God. When day came, he called his disciples to himself, and from them he chose Twelve, whom he also named Apostles: Simon, whom he named Peter, and his brother Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James the son of Alphaeus, Simon who was called a Zealot, and Judas the son of James, and Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor.

Reflections (5)

(i) Feast of Saints Simon and Jude

Today we celebrate the feast of two of the twelve apostles, Simon and Jude. They are both mentioned in the list of the twelve in today’s gospel reading, ‘Simon called the Zealot, Judas son of James’. We know very little about them. However, what we do know is that they answered the call of Jesus to belong among that group of twelve who were to share in Jesus’ life and mission in a special way. The twelve had privileged access to Jesus and they had a special share in his ministry both before and after his death and resurrection. The feast of these two members of the twelve reminds us that Jesus calls each one of us to share in his ministry in today’s world, each of us in our own distinctive way. No matter where we are on our life journey, whether we are healthy or sick, whether we are young or old, we all receive a call from the Lord to share in his life, to be in communion with him, and, then, to go forth in his name, bringing his loving presence to those we meet. It is a wonderful calling and it can give a truly meaningful shape to our lives. There are times in our lives when we might feel that we cannot do much for the Lord. Our energy levels may be failing, our health may be deteriorating, or the demands on us from others may be great. However, there is something that we can all do and that is to pray. We share in the Lord’s work by our prayer, just as Jesus shared in God his Father’s work by his prayer. Did you notice at the very beginning of our gospel reading, we heard that ‘Jesus went out into the hills to pray; and he spent the whole night in prayer to God’. Jesus gave a huge amount of time to prayer, because he knew that when he was praying he was doing God’s work as much as when he was busy serving people. His choice of the twelve come out of his prayer. Indeed, everything he did flowed from his prayer. His prayerful communion with God was at the core of his life. Prayer needs to be at the core of our lives as well, if the Lord is to continue to do his work through us. One of the primary ways that we respond to the Lord’s call is by spending time with the Lord in prayer. That is something we can all do, whether our mobility is restricted or whether we are fully mobile. Whenever we open ourselves to the Lord in prayer, the Spirit will work through us in ways that will surprise us.

And/Or

(ii) Feast of Saint Simon and Jude

This morning’s gospel tells us that from the wider group of disciples, Jesus calls forth a group of twelve, after he had spent the whole night in prayer to God. The number twelve was hugely significant at the time. The people of Israel were traditionally understood to comprise twelve tribes. When Jesus chose a group of twelve from the larger group of disciples, he understood this group to be the nucleus of a renewed Israel. The primary focus of Jesus’ mission was to renew the people of Israel and through them to renew all of humanity. Israel’s calling, according to the prophet Isaiah, was to be a light to the nations. In renewing Israel, Jesus sought to renew its mission to the nations. In reality, many people in Israel rejected Jesus. Even one of the twelve betrayed him to his enemies. Yet, there were others among the people of Israel who responded to Jesus and recognized God at work in his ministry, such as Simon and Jude whose feast we celebrate today. It is striking that Simon is referred to in today’s gospel reading as Simon the Zealot, which indicates that he was zealous for the Jewish Law. Yet, he came to appreciate Jesus as the authentic interpreter of the Jewish Law. It was Jews like Simon and Jude and Paul and many others, both men and women, who brought the gospel to the non-Jewish world, to the nations or the Gentiles. As Jesus said to the woman of Samaria, ‘salvation is from the Jews’. Our Christian faith has deep Jewish roots. We need to keep returning to those roots to fully appreciate the richness of our faith.

 And/Or

(iii) Feast of Saints Simon and Jude

Today we celebrate the feast of Saints Simon and Jude, two members of the twelve that Jesus chose from among the larger group of disciples. The choosing of the twelve was a key decision for Jesus. It is only Luke who tells us, as we read in this morning’s gospel reading, that, before he chose the twelve, Jesus spent the whole night in prayer to God. This was a decision he prayed about; his choice of the twelve came out of his prayer. Indeed, Luke emphasizes that Jesus prayed before all the key moments of his life – just after his baptism, just before he set his face to go to Jerusalem, in the Garden of Gethsemane as he faced into his passion and death; on the cross just before his death. We will often find ourselves praying at important moments in our own lives too. At such moments, we recognize our need guidance and strength from above. Our prayer at such moments does not necessarily mean that everything will work out perfectly for us. Although Jesus spent the whole night in prayer before he chose twelve from among the disciples, one of those twelve, Judas, went on to betray him. Yet, we can be sure that our prayerful surrender to the Lord at such times will always create space for him to work, even when things do not work out as we had hoped.

 And/Or

(iv) Feast of Saint Simon and Jude

Today we celebrate the feast of Saints Simon and Jude, two of the twelve apostles. The gospel reading for today’s feast is Luke’s account of Jesus’ calling of the twelve. It is only Luke who tells us that before choosing the twelve, Jesus spent the whole night in prayer to God. The choice of twelve was a key moment in the life of Jesus, and he prepared for it by prayer. Indeed, Luke highlights how Jesus prayed at all the key moments of his life, at his baptism, before setting out on the road to Jerusalem, before asking the key question of his disciples, ‘Who do you say that I am?’, before and during his passion and death. By his prayer at these key moments, Jesus was opening himself up to God’s purpose for his life. Our own prayerful communion with the Lord, especially at important moments in our life journey, helps to ensure that the choices we make and the paths we take are in accordance with God’s desire for our lives. At the end of today’s gospel reading, Luke says that people were trying to touch Jesus. In prayer we reach out to touch the Lord, so that he, in turn, can touch our lives and shape them as God intends.

 And/Or

(v) Feast of Saints Simon and Jude

The two saints whose feast we celebrate today are listed as among the list of twelve apostles in today’s gospel reading from Luke. Simon is referred to as ‘the Zealot’ and Jude or Judas is identified as the son of James. We know very little about either of these two close associates of Jesus. Jude or Judas has the misfortune to share the same name as the member of the twelve who betrayed Jesus, Judas Iscariot. When the fourth evangelist refers to Judas or Jude on one occasion he qualifies the name immediately as (not Iscariot). If Jude or Judas has the same name as the member of the twelve who betrayed Jesus, Simon has the same name as the leader of the twelve, Simon son of John who became known as Peter or ‘Rock’. Luke refers to the Simon whose feast we celebrate today as ‘the Zealot’. This would suggest that he was zealous for God’s Law. Saint Paul in one of his letters refers to himself as ‘zealous for the traditions of my fathers’, by which he meant the Jewish Law and the traditions that had grown up around it. Simon, like Paul, must have been able to channel his zeal for the Jewish Law into a zeal for Jesus who came to fulfil the true meaning of the Jewish Law. We know all too well today that religious zeal is not always a blessing; it can be violently destructive. However, when our religious or spiritual zeal is focused on Jesus, it will always be creative and life-giving. Zeal for the Lord will show itself in a zeal or an enthusiasm for all that the Lord values. This will be a zeal driven by love, by the Lord’s love for all of humankind. The world is always in need of such loving zeal, the zeal of the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of God’s love that has been poured into our hearts.

Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland.

Email: sjtbclontarf@eircom.net or  revmartinhogan@gmail.com

Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ie  Please join us via our webcam.

Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC.

Facebook: St John the Baptist RC Parish, Clontarf.

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[romancatholicreflections]

6th January >> Fr, Martin's Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Matthew 2:1-12 for the Feast of the Epiphany of the Lord: 'Falling to their knees they did him homage'.

Feast of the Epiphany of the Lord.

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Matthew 2:1-12

The visit of the Magi

After Jesus had been born at Bethlehem in Judaea during the reign of King Herod, some wise men came to Jerusalem from the east. ‘Where is the infant king of the Jews?’ they asked. ‘We saw his star as it rose and have come to do him homage.’ When King Herod heard this he was perturbed, and so was the whole of Jerusalem. He called together all the chief priests and the scribes of the people, and enquired of them where the Christ was to be born. ‘At Bethlehem in Judaea,’ they told him ‘for this is what the prophet wrote:

And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,

you are by no means least among the leaders of Judah,

for out of you will come a leader

who will shepherd my people Israel.’

Then Herod summoned the wise men to see him privately. He asked them the exact date on which the star had appeared, and sent them on to Bethlehem. ‘Go and find out all about the child,’ he said ‘and when you have found him, let me know, so that I too may go and do him homage.’ Having listened to what the king had to say, they set out. And there in front of them was the star they had seen rising; it went forward, and halted over the place where the child was. The sight of the star filled them with delight, and going into the house they saw the child with his mother Mary, and falling to their knees they did him homage. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh. But they were warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, and returned to their own country by a different way.

Gospel (USA)

Matthew 2:1–12

We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage.

When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in the days of King Herod, behold, magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was greatly troubled, and all Jerusalem with him. Assembling all the chief priests and the scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Christ was to be born. They said to him, “In Bethlehem of Judea, for thus it has been written through the prophet:

And you, Bethlehem, land of Judah,

are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;

since from you shall come a ruler,

who is to shepherd my people Israel. ”

Then Herod called the magi secretly and ascertained from them the time of the star’s appearance. He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and search diligently for the child. When you have found him, bring me word, that I too may go and do him homage.” After their audience with the king they set out. And behold, the star that they had seen at its rising preceded them, until it came and stopped over the place where the child was. They were overjoyed at seeing the star, and on entering the house they saw the child with Mary his mother. They prostrated themselves and did him homage. Then they opened their treasures and offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed for their country by another way.

Reflections (5)

(i) Feast of the Epiphany

In Italy children are very fortunate because they receive gifts not only on the feast of Christmas but also on the feast of the Epiphany. Whereas Santa Claus brings gifts on Christmas day, an old woman on a broomstick, called La Befana, brings gifts on the night of 5th January. According to an ancient tradition, the wise men on their way to Bethlehem stopped at an old woman’s cottage and asked her for directions to where the King of the Jews was to be born. She couldn’t help them but she offered them hospitality. The next morning the magi asked her if she would like to join them. She declined because she said she was too busy. However, later on she had a change of mind and she went looking for the child herself. However, after much searching, she never found the child. Every year on the evening of 5th January she brings gifts to children hoping that one of them will be the child Jesus. It is a story that captures well the deeper meaning of this feast. The wise men from the East, like La Befana, were searchers. They are the ancestors of all who seek after light and truth. Guided by the draw of the mysterious, an unusual star, they set out in search of God’s truth. They speak to that searching spirit which resides in each one of us. Saint Augustine said that our hearts are restless until they rest in God. We have a restlessness for more than this life alone has to offer and it keeps us searching after the One who alone can fully respond to our restless spirit.

We will only rest in God fully beyond this earthly life. Yet, already in this earthly life we can begin to experience something of that eternal rest. In the course of the gospels, Jesus calls out to the restless, ‘Come to me all you who labour and are overburdened and I will give you rest’. Jesus was speaking here of a present experience of rest and not just one for the eternal future. As people of faith we are on a journey towards that eternal rest for which we long. Yet, along the way, we can get a foretaste of that rest. The Lord who calls out to us to ‘Come’ is also drawing us to himself, so that we can experience something of his own rest, peace and joy. The Lord drew the magi from the east towards himself by means of a humble star. One small explosion of light in the darkness drew them to the one whom they wanted to worship. The Lord provides a star of Bethlehem for all of us in response to our search for him. Such a star can take different forms at different times in our lives. God’s love that draws us will find different ways of bursting forth like a light that pierces the darkness and demands our attention. Who or what is that star from the Lord in my life? We can all give our own personal answer to that question. For some, it might be some element of nature, as it was for the magi. For others, it might be a wonderful artistic portrayal of the mystery of God. For others again, it might be a piece of literature. One evening Edith Stein picked up an autobiography of St. Teresa of Avila and read it all night. She subsequently wrote, “When I had finished the book, I said to myself: ‘This is the truth’.” A few months later she was baptized into the Catholic Church. For many, the star will take the form of a person of faith through whom the Lord touches their lives in some way. Once the Lord draws us to himself, he sends us out to be the star of Bethlehem for others who are seeking. As we encounter the Lord for ourselves, we are changed, and we become carriers of his light to others. It is said of the magi that after they finally encountered the infant king of the Jews and worshipped him, they returned home by a different way. They were changed.

The Lord does not hide himself from us; he does not play hide and seek with us. He seeks us out in his love and draws us to himself. The word ‘Epiphany’ means a manifestation, a laying open. The Lord lays himself open to everyone. As Jesus says in one of the gospels, ‘I have spoken openly to the world… I have said nothing in secret’. To use a contemporary term, there is a wonderful transparency about the Lord. Epiphany is the feast of the Lord’s transparency. In contrast, there was nothing transparent about King Herod in today’s gospel reading. He asked the magi to let him know when they had found the child, so that he could come and worship him also. In reality, he wanted to kill the child. Herod is not simply a figure of the past. Like the magi, we can all find ourselves having to deal with forceful people who are hostile to our search for the Lord’s light and truth. Yet, the story of the journey of the magi teaches us that the drawing power of the Lord’s loving presence is stronger than all the obstacles we might encounter. In the words of Saint Paul. ‘God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength’.

And/Or

(ii) Feast of the Epiphany

Today’s gospel reading puts before us two very contrasting responses to the news that the long-awaited Jewish Messiah had just been born. Astrologers from the East were so excited by this news that they set out on a long journey to find the child so as to pay him homage. King Herod in Jerusalem was so perturbed by the same news that he sought to kill the child.

Today on this feast of the Epiphany we are asked to identify with the response of the astrologers, the wise men, from the East. They were people who were very observant of God’s natural world, in particular that part of God’s natural world that came into view when darkness descended. They observed and studied the stars. They were fascinated by the stars. Yet, they recognized that the stars, for all their splendour, pointed beyond themselves to some more wonderful reality, to God. So, when they heard that God was visiting our world in a new way through a child who had just been born, they set out in search of that child. These exotic figures from the East show us how being attentive to God’s natural world can draw us closer to God. This can happen in different ways for different people. For the wise men it was their fascination with the stars that led them to the true light of the world. For others, the sea can have a similar impact, revealing in some mysterious way the depth and power of God. The redness of a rose spoke to Joseph Mary Plunket of the redeeming death of Christ. God can speak to us in a variety of ways through the world of nature. The wise men teach us to be attentive and observant of God’s world, so that in and through it we may experience the presence of the living God.

There came a point on the journey of the wise men when they needed more that the signs of nature to find the child whom they were seeking. When they came to Jerusalem they had to ask, ‘Where is the infant king of the Jews?’ To make the last short step on their long journey, they needed more than the light of a star. They needed the light of the Scriptures. The chief priests and the scribes who knew the Scriptures were able to point them in the direction of Bethlehem. On our own journey towards the Lord, we too need the light of the Scriptures as well as the light of nature. The Scriptures are a fuller revelation of God than the natural world. It is in and through the Scriptures that we meet God and his Son in a special way. Through the Scriptures God speaks to us in a privileged way. He asks us to listen and to allow our lives to be shaped by what we hear. The wise men allowed themselves to be guided by the Scriptures, as well as by the star. They showed something of that responsiveness to God’s word to which we are all called.

Having been moved by the presence of God in nature and in the Scriptures, the wise men came face to face with God in a child. They did not worship the star; they did not even worship the Scriptures. But they did worship the child, because they recognized that here was Emmanuel, God-with-us. We too worship Emmanuel, and we do so in a special way every time we celebrate the Eucharist. As the wise men expressed their worship by offering the child their precious gifts, we express our own worship of the Lord in the Eucharist by offering him gifts, and our most precious gift is the gift of our lives. In the Eucharist we give ourselves to the Lord, in response to his giving of himself to us as bread of life, saying ‘Here I am’ in response to his ‘Take and eat’.

The gospel reading tells us that, after worshipping the child, the wise men returned home by a different way. Their meeting with the infant king of the Jews somehow changed them. Our own worship of the Lord in the Eucharist will often prompt us to take a different path too. We come to the Eucharist open to being changed by our meeting with the Lord. We are sent forth from the Eucharist to follow the way of the Lord more closely. We pray on this feast of the Epiphany that we would be as open to the Lord’s path as the wise men were.

And/Or

(iii)  Feast of the Epiphany

The planet Mars has been in the news in recent weeks, both for the apparent failure of the European mission to land a probe there and, in contrast, the great success of the American mission. You may have seen on the TV some of the pictures of the Martian surface that the American craft has started to send back. One of the scientists at NASA commented that it is remarkable to look up into the night sky at the planet Mars and to realize that we have now landed a craft on the planet that is sending back pictures from its surface. Men and women have always been fascinated by the night sky with its myriads of stars and planets. Once the Wright brothers took to the air a hundred years ago this year, it was only a matter of time before we succeed in landing on some of these planets.

The wise men in our gospel reading today were star gazers. They were closer to modern-day astrologers than modern-day astronomers. It is difficult to look up at a brilliantly lit starry sky and not to be overawed by the wonder, the beauty and the mystery of the universe. That sense of awe in the face of our ever expanding universe can touch what is deepest and most spiritual in us. We can be opened up to the wonder, not only of creation, but of the creator. As one of the psalms puts it, ‘the heavens proclaim the glory of God’. According to our gospel reading, the star gazing of the wise men from the east launched them on a spiritual quest, a search for God’s anointed one, a king in whom God was present in a unique way. Their fascination with one particular star brought them west to Jerusalem and eventually to Bethlehem, where they found the one for whom they were searching. Having found him, they worshipped him and left him their gifts, before returning home by another way.

There is something of the searcher in all of us. There is a restlessness in us for what is ultimate and absolute, for what is good and beautiful and true. The busyness of our lives can sometimes cut us off from that restlessness within. We can loose touch with the searcher within ourselves. It often takes a period of enforced inactivity to help us make contact again with the deeper longings within us that get silenced by the pace of life. It was while recovering from the wounds of battle that Ignatius of Loyola began to notice his deepest desires for God, his longing to serve God and to do God’s will. When he recovered from his wounds, he set out, like the wise men, by a different way. Sometimes an opportunity for quiet retreat can do the same for us. We take an opportunity that comes our way to step back from our usual comings and goings, and to focus on those deeper voices within us that can so easily get silenced. In a prayerful atmosphere, perhaps with some guidance, we get in touch with the searcher within ourselves again. We begin to attend to the Lord and his call. Having met the Lord anew, we return home again by a different way, somehow changed. A pilgrimage can have the same effect on us. We find ourselves joining a group that are travelling together to some holy place, some place that has been touched in some way by God, by people of God. There, in this special place, something deep within us is touched. We are helped to see ourselves and others in a different light, in God’s light. We are helped to take a different way, a better way.

Today’s feast speaks to the searcher in all of us. We are invited to identify with these wise men from the East who invested time, energy and resources in seeking out the one whom God sent to us. Their search was very much in response to God’s initiative. They came to Bethlehem because God had already visited that place. God had spoken a word which they were alert enough to hear. Our search is always a response to God’s initiative towards us. God seeks us out before we seek out God. Over the Christmas period we have been celebrating the wonderful way God has sought us out in the person of his Son, who became flesh, taking on a human life like yours and mine. God sent his Son to seek out and to save the lost, and that includes all of us. We are already the objects of God’s search. God’s searching love continues to call out to us, and to draw us. Our search is always only a response to that greater search, the search of a love that is greater than any human love.

Today’s feast invites us to pause and allow ourselves to be touched by God’s searching love, so that, like the wise men, we can set out on our own search for the Lord who seeks us out. As we set out on that journey, the Lord will provide us with stars to guide us. Those stars will often take the form of people who themselves have been true to their own deepest longings and whose lives are pointing towards God. We need to be alert to the signals the Lord gives us to guide our way towards his great light. As we enter that light and allow that light to shine on us, we too will find ourselves setting out by a different way, one that corresponds more to the Lord’s way.

And/Or

(iv) Feast of the Epiphany

There is a tradition in certain parts of Latin America that on the feast of the Epiphany a small plastic baby Jesus is hidden in a cake baked specially for the feast day. The hiding of the plastic figure signifies the efforts to hide the child Jesus from the evil intentions of King Herod. As the cake is cut, the slicing knife represents the danger posed to the infant Jesus by the cruel king. In some places the tradition is that whoever gets the piece of cake with the small figure of Jesus is obliged to host the next family gathering on February 2, the feast of the Presentation of the Lord. In other places, the one who finds the plastic figure in his or her portion receives gifts from those present. These traditions make tangible both the dangers that threatened the child Jesus as soon as he was born and the excitement of discovering the child Jesus, the son of Mary and Joseph, to be Emmanuel, God-with-us. If the danger posed to the child Jesus is represented by King Herod the excitement of discovering the child Jesus is expressed by the magi from the East who, on arriving to Bethlehem, fell to their knees to worship the infant king of the Jews and then offered him their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. Charles Dickens wrote a book entitled ‘A Tale of Two Cities’, based on the French revolution. One commentator has entitled the story we have just heard in the gospel reading, ‘A Tale of Three Cities’. There is Jerusalem, the city of Herod; there is Bethlehem, the city, or more the town, of David, where Jesus was born, and then the unnamed city in the East from where the visitors who sought the infant king of the Jews hailed.

The word ‘Epiphany’ means a showing forth, a setting in the light. Today we celebrate the good news that God showed forth his Son to all the nations, Jews and pagans alike. It is the pagan visitors from the unnamed city of the East who reveal to us how to respond to God’s showing forth of his Son, God’s gift of his Son. Jesus was born into a Jewish world and these visitors from the East were strangers in that world; they were outsiders. It often takes strangers, outsiders, to show us how to respond to God’s gift of his Son, how to appreciate the great riches of our faith, the presence of Christ in the Eucharist and in the other sacraments, the life-giving message of the Scriptures, in particular, the gospels. In recent years there has been a huge increase in the number of people coming to live among us from abroad, many of them from the East, from Eastern Europe and from much further East, the Far East, others from the South, from Africa. They often bring an enthusiasm and appreciation for the treasures of the faith, that, perhaps, we have lost somewhat. They have enriched the church by their readiness to share their gifts and energies with the church here in their adopted homeland.

Although in the emerging tradition of the church the visitors from the East have become kings and are portrayed as kings in our traditional cribs, they are not called kings in the gospel reading. They are called ‘magi’, translated as ‘wise men’. The term ‘magi’ referred to people who had special knowledge, experts in some field or other, and in the case of our magi, it would appear, experts in astronomy or astrology. The rising of a new star suggested to these ‘magi’ the birth of a new Jewish king, to whom they wished to do homage. They saw a new light and they chose to follow the light, wherever it led them. They represent all those, of whatever creed or persuasion, who seek to follow the light, the light of truth. The magi are the ancestors of all of us who seek the truth. It was their own natural skills of searching and interpreting the skies - their own natural knowledge and wisdom - that launched them on their search. Those natural gifts brought them to Jerusalem, but the gospel reading suggests that they needed the guidance of the Jewish Scriptures to direct them to Bethlehem where the infant king of the Jews would be found. Reason and the revelation of Scripture worked together to bring them to the Lord. Their profile in the gospels reminds us that our natural gifts of mind and reason need never be an obstacle to faith. The magi came to recognize that the brightest star of all was Christ the Lord; he was ‘light from light’, in the words of the Creed.

Jesus is God’s gift to all who seek the truth; he is not a gift for a select few. The figure of Herod in the gospel reading can symbolize the forces that work to prevent us finding the one for whom we long. We can encounter many obstacles on our journey towards the Lord of light and truth. Yet, the gospel reading also suggests that the obstacles will not ultimately prevail if we are faithful to our search for the true light. We are about to witness the baptism of John. The light of Christ will shine upon him through this sacrament and the flame of faith will be kindled in his young life.

And/Or

(v) Feast of the Epiphany

The gospel story behind this feast is has inspired artists, story tellers, poets and musicians down the centuries. In Mater Dei Institute of Education the music department used to put on a musical event once a year. One year they put on an operetta called ‘Amahl and the night visitors’. It was composed by Gian Carlo Menotti. He was born and reared in Italy but had been living in the United States, in New York for some years. Amahl is a disabled boy who needs a crutch to walk. He lives with his mother in very poor circumstances. One night the three kings stop off at their house to rest the night on their way to Bethlehem. When the boy hears that they are going to visit this special child to bring him their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, he asks them to take his crutch as his gift to the child. When he gave his crutch to the kings to give to the child of Bethlehem, he was miraculously cured. He then begged his mother to allow him to travel to Bethlehem with the kings to give thanks to this child for his healing. The composer said he was inspired to write this operetta by his own experience as a child in Italy. In his childhood there was no Santa Claus who brought gifts at Christmas time. Instead, the three kings brought gifts to children on the 6th of January. In the booklet for the opening performance of the operetta he wrote, ‘I actually never met the Three Kings—it didn't matter how hard my little brother and I tried to keep awake at night to catch a glimpse of the Three Royal Visitors, we would always fall asleep just before they arrived. But I do remember hearing them. I remember the weird cadence of their song in the dark distance; I remember the brittle sound of the camel's hooves crushing the frozen snow; and I remember the mysterious tinkling of their silver bridles... To these Three Kings I mainly owe the happy Christmas seasons of my childhood’. When he came to live in the United States the presence of Santa Claus everywhere at Christmas time led him to forget about the three kings. In November 1951 he had been commissioned by the National Broadcasting Company to write an operetta for television for Christmas. He wrote in that booklet that he didn’t have an idea in his head. As he walked through the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City one gloomy November afternoon in 1951, he came across the wonderful painting of the Adoration of the Magi by Hieronymus Bosch. He wrote ‘as I was looking at it, suddenly I heard again, coming from the distant blue hills, the weird song of the Three Kings. I then realized they had come back to me and had brought me a gift’. Their gift was the inspiration he needed to write his operetta, ‘Amahl and the night visitors’.

Perhaps we could ask ourselves, ‘What gift are the magi bringing us this feast of the Epiphany?’ How might their story speak to ours? The gospel story suggests that the magi were prompted to journey westward by the appearance of a bright star they had never seen before. The evangelist Matthew wants us to think of them as people who were used to studying the heavens. They looked upwards in amazement at the wonder of the star filled sky. There was a real contemplative dimension to their lives. They were absorbed by the beauty of the starry sky in all its radiance. Because they were attentive to this powerful and absorbing phenomenon, they noticed a new star when it appeared and were prompted to follow it. One of the gifts of the magi to us is perhaps that contemplative spirit which allows us to step back and really see what is before us. We can look without really seeing, just as we can hear without really listening. It is that contemplative spirit, that attentive looking and listening to the world around us, that can open us up to the signs of the Lord’s presence to us, those stars that leads us to the Lord. The Lord is always drawing us to himself. He is the light who enlightens everyone who comes into the world. We just need to be attentive to the presence of his light or the light of his presence. His light can shine upon us through a whole range of human experiences. For the magi, it took the form of the mysterious star, which launched them on a new journey. For Gian Carlo Menotti, it took the form of that painting in the Art Gallery in New York. His contemplative stance before this painting opened him up to the Lord’s light, launching him on the journey of creating his own work of art that would inspire many others. The Lord can also speak to us and inspire us to take some step through the people that cross our path in life, be it a close friend or even a stranger. The magi in the gospel reading teach us to be attentive to these signals from the Lord. The star that leads us to the Lord is there for all of us if we seek for it with an open heart, and with open ears and eyes.

Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland.

Email: sjtbclontarf@eircom.net or  frmartinhogan@gmail.com

Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ie  Please join us via our webcam.

Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC.

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[gigsoupmusic]

Cory Wells Announces New Album "The Way We Are"

Cory Wells is setting 2019 ablaze with a new album. The acoustic singer/songwriter has announced that he will be releasing his debut full-length album, The Way We Are, on November 15th via Pure Noise Records. Fans can pre-order the record, and watch Wells’ new music video “Wildfire,” now at smarturl.it/cwthewayweare. “Four years in the making and I cannot be more proud of this collection of songs,” shares Wells. “It portrays sadness, anger, despair, happiness, uncertainty, regret, and so much more.  It's my life. Its your life. It's about what its like to be human.  Without the bad, the good would mean nothing. It would just be normal. I hope people can appreciate the emotions put into this record as well as the various feels and styles it represents. It's the way we are.” On “Wildfire,” he adds: “This topic a first for me to write about. I didn't know that I'd ever known true hatred for someone until the events of this song. It feels amazing to let out so much anger in a healthy way. It feels like letting go.” Wells will be taking his new songs across the country as he joins The Spill Canvas on their upcoming Sunsets & Car Crashes 15th Anniversary Tour. The full US-run kicks off on October 24th in Houston, and includes stops in Los Angeles, Seattle, Chicago, New York, and Philadelphia before concluding in Orlando on December 15th. Additionally, he will be touring in the UK/EU in November with Dashboard Confessional. For a full list of upcoming shows, please see below or visit: www.corywellsofficial.com. About Cory Wells Across his debut album’s 12 songs, Wells plays the role of shapeshifter: Just when you’ve got him figured out, he unleashes new musical elements – a ferocious scream (“Walk Away”) that eventually gives way to soaring falsetto (“Cement”), stirring acoustic guitar that crescendos into fiery full-band fare. The ghosts of new-era emo torchbearers (including Dashboard Confessional’s Chris Carrabba, a contributor on “Fall Apart”) are alive and well in his lush beds of acoustic-based rock, but Wells isn’t actively summoning them. Rather, he’s a decidedly patient songwriter, waiting for the right time to pair a searing lyric with the throat-shredding vocal performance it demands. Wells launched his solo project in 2017 with his first release for Pure Noise Records, the How to Tear Apart the Ones You Love EP, and follow-up single “End of a Good Thing” quickly became a viral hit in 2018, racking up millions of YouTube views and Spotify streams and introducing fans around the world to Wells’ storytelling. At this point in his still-young career as a solo artist, Wells is in an enviable position: As a true student of music in all its styles and forms (“Every genre has its place, and I appreciate something from all of it.”), he’s a songwriter without limits. He’s already masterfully distilled the songs of his youth – the emotional ferocity of metal, the heart-on-sleeve confessionalism of emo and salt-of-the-earth universality of folk – into the music of his present, and looking forward, there seems to be no telling how Wells’ music will evolve from here. You get the sense the singer prefers it that way. As it stands, he’s having too much fun keeping listeners – and even himself – anticipating what will come next. “I could write a ton of different styles of songs, but as long as I sing them like I mean it, the songs will resonate,” he says. He continues: “I played metal because I liked it. I play this music because I love it.” Wells will release his debut full-length album The Way We Are on November 15th via Pure Noise Records. To pre-order, please visit: smarturl.it/cwthewayweare. https://youtu.be/p0YgexhIZ9g Upcoming Tour Dates: 10/24 – Houston, TX @ House of Blues 10/25 – Austin, TX @ Barracuda 10/26 – San Antonio, TX @ The Rock Box 10/27 – Dallas, TX @ House of Blues 10/29 – Phoenix, AZ @ The Rebel Lounge 10/30 – San Diego, CA @ Soda Bar 10/31 – Santa Ana, CA @ The Observatory 11/1 – Los Angeles, CA @ The Roxy Theatre 11/2 – San Francisco, CA @ Slims 11/3 – Sacramento, CA @ Holy Diver 11/5 – Portland, OR @ Hawthorne Theatre 11/6 – Seattle, WA @ El Corazon 11/8 – Salt Lake City, UT @ Kilby Court 11/9 – Denver, CO @ Marquis Theater 11/10 - Glasgow, UK @ King Tuts - Sold Out ** 11/11 - Manchester, UK @ Deaf Institute - Sold Out ** 11/13 - London, UK @ St. Pancras Old Church - Sold Out ** 11/14 - London, UK @ St. Pancras Old Church - Sold Out ** 11/15 - London, UK @St. Pancras Old Church - Sold Out ** 11/17 - Paris, FR @ Boule Noire ** 11/18 - Brussels, BEL @ AB Club ** 11/19 - Munchen, GER @ Feierwek ** 11/20 - Berlin, GER @ Privatclub - Sold Out ** 11/22 - Cologne, GER @ Luxor - Sold Out ** 11/23 - Eindhoven, NL @ Dynamo 11/29 – Saint Paul, MN @ Amsterdam Bar and Hall ** 11/30 – Cudahy, WI @ X-Ray Arcade 12/1 – Columbus, OH @ Skullys Music Diner 12/3 – Chicago, IL @ Bottom Lounge 12/4 – Detroit, MI @ The Shelter 12/5 – Cleveland, OH @ Mahalls 12/6 – Buffalo, NY @ Rec Room 12/7 – Brooklyn, NY @ Market Hotel 12/8 – Cambridge, MA @ Middle East 12/10 – Pittsburgh, PA @ Rex Theater 12/11 – Philadelphia, PA @ The Fillmore 12/12 – College Park, MD @ Milkboy Arthouse 12/13 – Greensboro, NC @ Blind Tiger 12/14 – Atlanta, GA @ Masquerade 12/15 – Orlando, FL @ Sound Bar ** - Show with Dashboard Confessional Read the full article

[pamphletstoinspire]

A Typical Day In The Life Of Saint Padre Pio

Padre Pio:

Padre Pio was born on May 25, 1887 in Pietrelcina, Italy, and baptized in the name Francesco. From his early childhood he was visited regularly by his guardian angel and the Blessed Virgin Mary. He did not think this was unusual until a young friend told him otherwise. He was ordained a priest in the Capuchin Order on August 10, 1910. His young priestly life was marked by numerous episodes of poor health, and also included a short stint with the military. After being discharged from the Army in 1918, he was stationed at the monastery at San Giovanni Rotondo, Italy, never to leave until his death. On December 20, 1918 he was blessed with the extraordinary visible stigmata of Christ (5 wounds on his hands, feet and side).

His priestly ministry was characterized by humility, perseverance and obedience to his priestly duties, especially to the celebration of Holy Mass, hours in the confessional, and spiritual direction. He was able to read into the hearts of many who came to him for confession, often reminding them of un-confessed sins and foretelling future occurrences in their lives and God's will for them. A hugh International cult rose up around Padre Pio, manifesting itself in constant crowds of pilgrims to the monastery to attend his Holy Masses and to confess to him.

INSPIRING WORDS FROM PADRE PIO

"Pray, hope, and don't worry. Worry is useless. God is merciful and will hear your prayer."

"Pray, pray to the Lord with me, because the whole world needs prayer. and every day, when your heart especially feels the loneliness of life, pray. Pray to the Lord, because even God needs our prayers."

"You must always humble yourself lovingly before God and before men, because God speaks only to those who are truly humble and He enriches them with His Gifts."

"In all the events of life, you must recognize the Divine Will. Adore and bless it, especially in the things which are the hardest for you."

"Prayer is the best weapon we have; it is the key to God's heart. You must speak to Jesus not only with your lips, but with your heart. In fact on certain occasions you should only speak to Him with your heart."

"Who can assure us that we will be alive tomorrow? Let us listen to the voice of our conscience, to the voice of the royal prophet: 'Today, if you hear God's voice, harden not your heart.' Let us not put off from one moment to another (what we should do) because the (next Moment) is not yet ours."

"Don't allow any sadness to dwell in your soul, for sadness prevents the Holy Spirit from entering freely."

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF PADRE PIO

This represents an imaginary day in the life of Padre Pio but as the routine of the friary did not change much it would have been very much a typical day. Each picture has a brief commentary with an interesting anecdote or quote.

***

Padre Pio's day would begin about 2:30 a.m. when an alarm clock would ring in his cell. He would make the sign of the cross, kiss his rosary, glance at the image of Jesus and Mary and then say a prayer of thanksgiving to God for the new day. He would get up three hours before the other friars to prepare himself suitably for the celebration of Mass. I say he would get up and not wake up because he slept very little.

Fra Modestino of Pietrelcina, in his book "Testimonies of Padre Pio", recounts: "One evening in 1964, I was alone with the Padre by his bed. Suddenly he said to me: `Listen, my son, pray to God that I am able to sleep. My eyes hurt and I am exhausted. It is three years that I have not slept"

***

At the end of holy Mass Padre Pio would return to the sacristy, preceded and followed by a group of men who wanted to touch him and see him from close up. Without talking and still immersed in the divine mysteries just celebrated, he would remove the sacred vestments and would recollect himself in intense prayer of thanksgiving. He would be aware of nothing around him. If he could, he would have remained for hours in that intimate dialogue. And when he tasted all the sweetness of the immaculate flesh of Jesus, received in the sacrament, he felt himself in paradise!

Padre Pio at the end of holy Mass, never omitted to do his thanksgiving. And our Lord would gratify him with marvellous experiences. In fact, to Padre Agostino, his confessor, he confided: "Yesterday, only God knows how much sweetness I experienced, especially after holy Mass, so much so that I still feel them. My head and heart were on fire; but it was fire that did me good. My mouth tasted all the sweetness of that Immaculate flesh of the son of God". (Letters I).

At 9:30 a.m., with a surplice and stole, Padre Pio would distribute Communion to those penitents just absolved of their sins and those other faithful who wished to receive the sacred species from his wounded hands. He was happy to see so many pilgrims approach "the sacred banquet of the divine Lamb that he considered such a powerful remedy against human weakness, and a “great means to aspire to holy perfection". He desired however that all approach the Eucharistic table with the desire and the intention to remove from their hearts all that displeases the One who becomes bread for us.

To his spiritual daughter Raffaelina Cerase, Padre Pio wrote: "Let us approach to receive the bread of angels with great faith and with a great flame of love in our hearts. Let us await this most tender lover of our souls in order to be consoled in this life with the kiss of His mouth. Happy are we if we succeed in receiving from the Lord the consolation of this kiss in the present life!". (Letters II).

Padre Pio surrounded by the crowds and all the pushing and even fanatical outbursts that he always firmly scolded, would successfully reach the protection of the cloister. On the way, women and men of every age and social standing would be waiting for him, in the sacristy, in the corridor or in the "St. Francis hall", to ask him for advice, a prayer, a blessing; to give him a letter or an offering to give vent to their troubles, to recount their sufferings. And the stigmatic of the Gargano would give to all, words of comfort, spiritual direction and paternal exhortations.

While Padre Pio was going by, a voice called from the crowd: "Padre, what must I tell my sister, Rose?". The woman convinced that she could obtain from him an answer... direct from heaven, almost shouting repeated: "Padre, what must I tell my sister Rose?" Padre Pio, to repress any fanaticism, answered: "Tell her that she will become a carnation..." and indeed she soon later met and married a man called Carnation. (Gennaro Preziuso, Padre Pio, Apostle of the Confessional).

At lunch time the friars summoned by the bell would unite in the refectory. Padre Pio would join them a little later having been delayed in the blessing of a car in the garden or held up by someone talking. Arriving at his place, he would kneel down with his arms outstretched, to thank providence for the food he was about to eat. His prayer would continue until he ate a few mouthfuls. He would then pass his plate to the friar sitting next to him and he would remain to listen to the reading of the Gospel or the Franciscan Rule.

A fellow friar asked Padre Pio: "Padre , how are you able to live on so little food?" The Padre answered: "There are in nature fertile and non fertile fields. For the former, one grain of wheat will produce much; for the latter not even with the best fertilizers will any grain be produced. It must be the same with the human body or at least it is so for me." (Testimony from the Process of Canonization of Padre Pio).

Padre Pio would make holy the short pause for rest with the reading of Vespers and Compline. Then he would remain a few minutes on the veranda of the friary, with his inseparable rosary in his hands and his thoughts always turned to God. At 3:00 p.m. he was again in the sacristy to hear the confessions of the men. At 5:00 p.m., from the choir loft, he would join in the communal recitation of the rosary. At 5:30 p.m. he would lead the evening Benediction and recite the prayer to Mary Most Holy composed by St. Alphonsus de Liguori.

In reciting every evening "the prayer to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament" Padre Pio would be deeply moved, even to tears. To Padre Agostino of San Marco in Lamis he wrote: "I often ask myself if any people exist who do not feel their breast burning with divine fire, especially when they are close to him in the Blessed Sacrament. This seems impossible to me, especially in the case of a priest or a religious". (Letters I,).

Once Vespers were over; Padre Pio, when the weather was good, would go into the garden for some fresh air. He would walk along the path between the row of pine trees, or he would watch a game of bowling played by the friars. Then, in the summer, in the shade of a tree, or in the winter in a room of the friary, he would spend half an hour in conversation. To those present he would bring joy and smiles with his sense of humor and with his anecdotes that had a moral lesson he would give insights into the spiritual life.

Padre Pio once recounted that at Foggia, in the church of St. Anne, a fellow Friar told him loudly that a doctor friend was arriving to see him. An elderly lady who had just confessed to Padre Pio, asked him at once if this friend could visit her daughter who was ill. Padre Pio answered her that the friend was a doctor of "philosophy"....The woman thinking that philosophy was a part of medical science, commented: "How many illnesses there are in the world!...Thanks all the same, Padre, but my daughter is not ill with philosophy". (Fr. A. Ripabottoni, "Padre Pio Recounts and Says").

[frmartinshomiliesandreflections]

6th January >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Matthew 2:1-12 for the Feast of the Epiphany of the Lord: ‘Falling to their knees they did him homage’.

Feast of the Epiphany of the Lord.

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Matthew 2:1-12

The visit of the Magi

After Jesus had been born at Bethlehem in Judaea during the reign of King Herod, some wise men came to Jerusalem from the east. ‘Where is the infant king of the Jews?’ they asked. ‘We saw his star as it rose and have come to do him homage.’ When King Herod heard this he was perturbed, and so was the whole of Jerusalem. He called together all the chief priests and the scribes of the people, and enquired of them where the Christ was to be born. ‘At Bethlehem in Judaea,’ they told him ‘for this is what the prophet wrote:

And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,

you are by no means least among the leaders of Judah,

for out of you will come a leader

who will shepherd my people Israel.’

Then Herod summoned the wise men to see him privately. He asked them the exact date on which the star had appeared, and sent them on to Bethlehem. ‘Go and find out all about the child,’ he said ‘and when you have found him, let me know, so that I too may go and do him homage.’ Having listened to what the king had to say, they set out. And there in front of them was the star they had seen rising; it went forward, and halted over the place where the child was. The sight of the star filled them with delight, and going into the house they saw the child with his mother Mary, and falling to their knees they did him homage. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh. But they were warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, and returned to their own country by a different way.

Gospel (USA)

Matthew 2:1–12

We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage.

When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in the days of King Herod, behold, magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was greatly troubled, and all Jerusalem with him. Assembling all the chief priests and the scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Christ was to be born. They said to him, “In Bethlehem of Judea, for thus it has been written through the prophet:

And you, Bethlehem, land of Judah,

are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;

since from you shall come a ruler,

who is to shepherd my people Israel. ”

Then Herod called the magi secretly and ascertained from them the time of the star’s appearance. He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and search diligently for the child. When you have found him, bring me word, that I too may go and do him homage.” After their audience with the king they set out. And behold, the star that they had seen at its rising preceded them, until it came and stopped over the place where the child was. They were overjoyed at seeing the star, and on entering the house they saw the child with Mary his mother. They prostrated themselves and did him homage. Then they opened their treasures and offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed for their country by another way.

Reflections (5)

(i) Feast of the Epiphany of the Lord

In Italy children are very fortunate because they receive gifts not only on the feast of Christmas but also on the feast of the Epiphany. Whereas Santa Claus brings gifts on Christmas day, an old woman on a broomstick, called La Befana, brings gifts on the night of 5th January. According to an ancient tradition, the wise men on their way to Bethlehem stopped at an old woman’s cottage and asked her for directions to where the King of the Jews was to be born. She couldn’t help them but she offered them hospitality. The next morning the magi asked her if she would like to join them. She declined because she said she was too busy. However, later on she had a change of mind and she went looking for the child herself. However, after much searching, she never found the child. Every year on the evening of 5th January she brings gifts to children hoping that one of them will be the child Jesus. It is a story that captures well the deeper meaning of this feast. The wise men from the East, like La Befana, were searchers. They are the ancestors of all who seek after light and truth. Guided by the draw of the mysterious, an unusual star, they set out in search of God’s truth. They speak to that searching spirit which resides in each one of us. Saint Augustine said that our hearts are restless until they rest in God. We have a restlessness for more than this life alone has to offer and it keeps us searching after the One who alone can fully respond to our restless spirit.

We will only rest in God fully beyond this earthly life. Yet, already in this earthly life we can begin to experience something of that eternal rest. In the course of the gospels, Jesus calls out to the restless, ‘Come to me all you who labour and are overburdened and I will give you rest’. Jesus was speaking here of a present experience of rest and not just one for the eternal future. As people of faith we are on a journey towards that eternal rest for which we long. Yet, along the way, we can get a foretaste of that rest. The Lord who calls out to us to ‘Come’ is also drawing us to himself, so that we can experience something of his own rest, peace and joy. The Lord drew the magi from the east towards himself by means of a humble star. One small explosion of light in the darkness drew them to the one whom they wanted to worship. The Lord provides a star of Bethlehem for all of us in response to our search for him. Such a star can take different forms at different times in our lives. God’s love that draws us will find different ways of bursting forth like a light that pierces the darkness and demands our attention. Who or what is that star from the Lord in my life? We can all give our own personal answer to that question. For some, it might be some element of nature, as it was for the magi. For others, it might be a wonderful artistic portrayal of the mystery of God. For others again, it might be a piece of literature. One evening Edith Stein picked up an autobiography of St. Teresa of Avila and read it all night. She subsequently wrote, “When I had finished the book, I said to myself: ‘This is the truth’.” A few months later she was baptized into the Catholic Church. For many, the star will take the form of a person of faith through whom the Lord touches their lives in some way. Once the Lord draws us to himself, he sends us out to be the star of Bethlehem for others who are seeking. As we encounter the Lord for ourselves, we are changed, and we become carriers of his light to others. It is said of the magi that after they finally encountered the infant king of the Jews and worshipped him, they returned home by a different way. They were changed.

The Lord does not hide himself from us; he does not play hide and seek with us. He seeks us out in his love and draws us to himself. The word ‘Epiphany’ means a manifestation, a laying open. The Lord lays himself open to everyone. As Jesus says in one of the gospels, ‘I have spoken openly to the world… I have said nothing in secret’. To use a contemporary term, there is a wonderful transparency about the Lord. Epiphany is the feast of the Lord’s transparency. In contrast, there was nothing transparent about King Herod in today’s gospel reading. He asked the magi to let him know when they had found the child, so that he could come and worship him also. In reality, he wanted to kill the child. Herod is not simply a figure of the past. Like the magi, we can all find ourselves having to deal with forceful people who are hostile to our search for the Lord’s light and truth. Yet, the story of the journey of the magi teaches us that the drawing power of the Lord’s loving presence is stronger than all the obstacles we might encounter. In the words of Saint Paul. ‘God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength’.

And/Or

(ii) Feast of the Epiphany of the Lord

Today’s gospel reading puts before us two very contrasting responses to the news that the long-awaited Jewish Messiah had just been born. Astrologers from the East were so excited by this news that they set out on a long journey to find the child so as to pay him homage. King Herod in Jerusalem was so perturbed by the same news that he sought to kill the child.

Today on this feast of the Epiphany we are asked to identify with the response of the astrologers, the wise men, from the East. They were people who were very observant of God’s natural world, in particular that part of God’s natural world that came into view when darkness descended. They observed and studied the stars. They were fascinated by the stars. Yet, they recognized that the stars, for all their splendour, pointed beyond themselves to some more wonderful reality, to God. So, when they heard that God was visiting our world in a new way through a child who had just been born, they set out in search of that child. These exotic figures from the East show us how being attentive to God’s natural world can draw us closer to God. This can happen in different ways for different people. For the wise men it was their fascination with the stars that led them to the true light of the world. For others, the sea can have a similar impact, revealing in some mysterious way the depth and power of God. The redness of a rose spoke to Joseph Mary Plunket of the redeeming death of Christ. God can speak to us in a variety of ways through the world of nature. The wise men teach us to be attentive and observant of God’s world, so that in and through it we may experience the presence of the living God.

There came a point on the journey of the wise men when they needed more that the signs of nature to find the child whom they were seeking. When they came to Jerusalem they had to ask, ‘Where is the infant king of the Jews?’ To make the last short step on their long journey, they needed more than the light of a star. They needed the light of the Scriptures. The chief priests and the scribes who knew the Scriptures were able to point them in the direction of Bethlehem. On our own journey towards the Lord, we too need the light of the Scriptures as well as the light of nature. The Scriptures are a fuller revelation of God than the natural world. It is in and through the Scriptures that we meet God and his Son in a special way. Through the Scriptures God speaks to us in a privileged way. He asks us to listen and to allow our lives to be shaped by what we hear. The wise men allowed themselves to be guided by the Scriptures, as well as by the star. They showed something of that responsiveness to God’s word to which we are all called.

Having been moved by the presence of God in nature and in the Scriptures, the wise men came face to face with God in a child. They did not worship the star; they did not even worship the Scriptures. But they did worship the child, because they recognized that here was Emmanuel, God-with-us. We too worship Emmanuel, and we do so in a special way every time we celebrate the Eucharist. As the wise men expressed their worship by offering the child their precious gifts, we express our own worship of the Lord in the Eucharist by offering him gifts, and our most precious gift is the gift of our lives. In the Eucharist we give ourselves to the Lord, in response to his giving of himself to us as bread of life, saying ‘Here I am’ in response to his ‘Take and eat’.

The gospel reading tells us that, after worshipping the child, the wise men returned home by a different way. Their meeting with the infant king of the Jews somehow changed them. Our own worship of the Lord in the Eucharist will often prompt us to take a different path too. We come to the Eucharist open to being changed by our meeting with the Lord. We are sent forth from the Eucharist to follow the way of the Lord more closely. We pray on this feast of the Epiphany that we would be as open to the Lord’s path as the wise men were.

And/Or

(iii) Feast of the Epiphany of the Lord

The planet Mars has been in the news in recent weeks, both for the apparent failure of the European mission to land a probe there and, in contrast, the great success of the American mission. You may have seen on the TV some of the pictures of the Martian surface that the American craft has started to send back. One of the scientists at NASA commented that it is remarkable to look up into the night sky at the planet Mars and to realize that we have now landed a craft on the planet that is sending back pictures from its surface. Men and women have always been fascinated by the night sky with its myriads of stars and planets. Once the Wright brothers took to the air a hundred years ago this year, it was only a matter of time before we succeed in landing on some of these planets.

The wise men in our gospel reading today were star gazers. They were closer to modern-day astrologers than modern-day astronomers. It is difficult to look up at a brilliantly lit starry sky and not to be overawed by the wonder, the beauty and the mystery of the universe. That sense of awe in the face of our ever expanding universe can touch what is deepest and most spiritual in us. We can be opened up to the wonder, not only of creation, but of the creator. As one of the psalms puts it, ‘the heavens proclaim the glory of God’. According to our gospel reading, the star gazing of the wise men from the east launched them on a spiritual quest, a search for God’s anointed one, a king in whom God was present in a unique way. Their fascination with one particular star brought them west to Jerusalem and eventually to Bethlehem, where they found the one for whom they were searching. Having found him, they worshipped him and left him their gifts, before returning home by another way.

There is something of the searcher in all of us. There is a restlessness in us for what is ultimate and absolute, for what is good and beautiful and true. The busyness of our lives can sometimes cut us off from that restlessness within. We can loose touch with the searcher within ourselves. It often takes a period of enforced inactivity to help us make contact again with the deeper longings within us that get silenced by the pace of life. It was while recovering from the wounds of battle that Ignatius of Loyola began to notice his deepest desires for God, his longing to serve God and to do God’s will. When he recovered from his wounds, he set out, like the wise men, by a different way. Sometimes an opportunity for quiet retreat can do the same for us. We take an opportunity that comes our way to step back from our usual comings and goings, and to focus on those deeper voices within us that can so easily get silenced. In a prayerful atmosphere, perhaps with some guidance, we get in touch with the searcher within ourselves again. We begin to attend to the Lord and his call. Having met the Lord anew, we return home again by a different way, somehow changed. A pilgrimage can have the same effect on us. We find ourselves joining a group that are travelling together to some holy place, some place that has been touched in some way by God, by people of God. There, in this special place, something deep within us is touched. We are helped to see ourselves and others in a different light, in God’s light. We are helped to take a different way, a better way.

Today’s feast speaks to the searcher in all of us. We are invited to identify with these wise men from the East who invested time, energy and resources in seeking out the one whom God sent to us. Their search was very much in response to God’s initiative. They came to Bethlehem because God had already visited that place. God had spoken a word which they were alert enough to hear. Our search is always a response to God’s initiative towards us. God seeks us out before we seek out God. Over the Christmas period we have been celebrating the wonderful way God has sought us out in the person of his Son, who became flesh, taking on a human life like yours and mine. God sent his Son to seek out and to save the lost, and that includes all of us. We are already the objects of God’s search. God’s searching love continues to call out to us, and to draw us. Our search is always only a response to that greater search, the search of a love that is greater than any human love.

Today’s feast invites us to pause and allow ourselves to be touched by God’s searching love, so that, like the wise men, we can set out on our own search for the Lord who seeks us out. As we set out on that journey, the Lord will provide us with stars to guide us. Those stars will often take the form of people who themselves have been true to their own deepest longings and whose lives are pointing towards God. We need to be alert to the signals the Lord gives us to guide our way towards his great light. As we enter that light and allow that light to shine on us, we too will find ourselves setting out by a different way, one that corresponds more to the Lord’s way.

And/Or

(iv) Feast of the Epiphany of the Lord

There is a tradition in certain parts of Latin America that on the feast of the Epiphany a small plastic baby Jesus is hidden in a cake baked specially for the feast day. The hiding of the plastic figure signifies the efforts to hide the child Jesus from the evil intentions of King Herod. As the cake is cut, the slicing knife represents the danger posed to the infant Jesus by the cruel king. In some places the tradition is that whoever gets the piece of cake with the small figure of Jesus is obliged to host the next family gathering on February 2, the feast of the Presentation of the Lord. In other places, the one who finds the plastic figure in his or her portion receives gifts from those present. These traditions make tangible both the dangers that threatened the child Jesus as soon as he was born and the excitement of discovering the child Jesus, the son of Mary and Joseph, to be Emmanuel, God-with-us. If the danger posed to the child Jesus is represented by King Herod the excitement of discovering the child Jesus is expressed by the magi from the East who, on arriving to Bethlehem, fell to their knees to worship the infant king of the Jews and then offered him their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. Charles Dickens wrote a book entitled ‘A Tale of Two Cities’, based on the French revolution. One commentator has entitled the story we have just heard in the gospel reading, ‘A Tale of Three Cities’. There is Jerusalem, the city of Herod; there is Bethlehem, the city, or more the town, of David, where Jesus was born, and then the unnamed city in the East from where the visitors who sought the infant king of the Jews hailed.

The word ‘Epiphany’ means a showing forth, a setting in the light. Today we celebrate the good news that God showed forth his Son to all the nations, Jews and pagans alike. It is the pagan visitors from the unnamed city of the East who reveal to us how to respond to God’s showing forth of his Son, God’s gift of his Son. Jesus was born into a Jewish world and these visitors from the East were strangers in that world; they were outsiders. It often takes strangers, outsiders, to show us how to respond to God’s gift of his Son, how to appreciate the great riches of our faith, the presence of Christ in the Eucharist and in the other sacraments, the life-giving message of the Scriptures, in particular, the gospels. In recent years there has been a huge increase in the number of people coming to live among us from abroad, many of them from the East, from Eastern Europe and from much further East, the Far East, others from the South, from Africa. They often bring an enthusiasm and appreciation for the treasures of the faith, that, perhaps, we have lost somewhat. They have enriched the church by their readiness to share their gifts and energies with the church here in their adopted homeland.

Although in the emerging tradition of the church the visitors from the East have become kings and are portrayed as kings in our traditional cribs, they are not called kings in the gospel reading. They are called ‘magi’, translated as ‘wise men’. The term ‘magi’ referred to people who had special knowledge, experts in some field or other, and in the case of our magi, it would appear, experts in astronomy or astrology. The rising of a new star suggested to these ‘magi’ the birth of a new Jewish king, to whom they wished to do homage. They saw a new light and they chose to follow the light, wherever it led them. They represent all those, of whatever creed or persuasion, who seek to follow the light, the light of truth. The magi are the ancestors of all of us who seek the truth. It was their own natural skills of searching and interpreting the skies - their own natural knowledge and wisdom - that launched them on their search. Those natural gifts brought them to Jerusalem, but the gospel reading suggests that they needed the guidance of the Jewish Scriptures to direct them to Bethlehem where the infant king of the Jews would be found. Reason and the revelation of Scripture worked together to bring them to the Lord. Their profile in the gospels reminds us that our natural gifts of mind and reason need never be an obstacle to faith. The magi came to recognize that the brightest star of all was Christ the Lord; he was ‘light from light’, in the words of the Creed.

Jesus is God’s gift to all who seek the truth; he is not a gift for a select few. The figure of Herod in the gospel reading can symbolize the forces that work to prevent us finding the one for whom we long. We can encounter many obstacles on our journey towards the Lord of light and truth. Yet, the gospel reading also suggests that the obstacles will not ultimately prevail if we are faithful to our search for the true light. We are about to witness the baptism of John. The light of Christ will shine upon him through this sacrament and the flame of faith will be kindled in his young life.

And/Or

(v) Feast of the Epiphany of the Lord

The gospel story behind this feast is has inspired artists, story tellers, poets and musicians down the centuries. In Mater Dei Institute of Education the music department used to put on a musical event once a year. One year they put on an operetta called ‘Amahl and the night visitors’. It was composed by Gian Carlo Menotti. He was born and reared in Italy but had been living in the United States, in New York for some years. Amahl is a disabled boy who needs a crutch to walk. He lives with his mother in very poor circumstances. One night the three kings stop off at their house to rest the night on their way to Bethlehem. When the boy hears that they are going to visit this special child to bring him their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, he asks them to take his crutch as his gift to the child. When he gave his crutch to the kings to give to the child of Bethlehem, he was miraculously cured. He then begged his mother to allow him to travel to Bethlehem with the kings to give thanks to this child for his healing. The composer said he was inspired to write this operetta by his own experience as a child in Italy. In his childhood there was no Santa Claus who brought gifts at Christmas time. Instead, the three kings brought gifts to children on the 6th of January. In the booklet for the opening performance of the operetta he wrote, ‘I actually never met the Three Kings—it didn’t matter how hard my little brother and I tried to keep awake at night to catch a glimpse of the Three Royal Visitors, we would always fall asleep just before they arrived. But I do remember hearing them. I remember the weird cadence of their song in the dark distance; I remember the brittle sound of the camel’s hooves crushing the frozen snow; and I remember the mysterious tinkling of their silver bridles… To these Three Kings I mainly owe the happy Christmas seasons of my childhood’. When he came to live in the United States the presence of Santa Claus everywhere at Christmas time led him to forget about the three kings. In November 1951 he had been commissioned by the National Broadcasting Company to write an operetta for television for Christmas. He wrote in that booklet that he didn’t have an idea in his head. As he walked through the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City one gloomy November afternoon in 1951, he came across the wonderful painting of the Adoration of the Magi by Hieronymus Bosch. He wrote ‘as I was looking at it, suddenly I heard again, coming from the distant blue hills, the weird song of the Three Kings. I then realized they had come back to me and had brought me a gift’. Their gift was the inspiration he needed to write his operetta, ‘Amahl and the night visitors’.

Perhaps we could ask ourselves, ‘What gift are the magi bringing us this feast of the Epiphany?’ How might their story speak to ours? The gospel story suggests that the magi were prompted to journey westward by the appearance of a bright star they had never seen before. The evangelist Matthew wants us to think of them as people who were used to studying the heavens. They looked upwards in amazement at the wonder of the star filled sky. There was a real contemplative dimension to their lives. They were absorbed by the beauty of the starry sky in all its radiance. Because they were attentive to this powerful and absorbing phenomenon, they noticed a new star when it appeared and were prompted to follow it. One of the gifts of the magi to us is perhaps that contemplative spirit which allows us to step back and really see what is before us. We can look without really seeing, just as we can hear without really listening. It is that contemplative spirit, that attentive looking and listening to the world around us, that can open us up to the signs of the Lord’s presence to us, those stars that leads us to the Lord. The Lord is always drawing us to himself. He is the light who enlightens everyone who comes into the world. We just need to be attentive to the presence of his light or the light of his presence. His light can shine upon us through a whole range of human experiences. For the magi, it took the form of the mysterious star, which launched them on a new journey. For Gian Carlo Menotti, it took the form of that painting in the Art Gallery in New York. His contemplative stance before this painting opened him up to the Lord’s light, launching him on the journey of creating his own work of art that would inspire many others. The Lord can also speak to us and inspire us to take some step through the people that cross our path in life, be it a close friend or even a stranger. The magi in the gospel reading teach us to be attentive to these signals from the Lord. The star that leads us to the Lord is there for all of us if we seek for it with an open heart, and with open ears and eyes.

Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland.

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[frmartinshomiliesandreflections]

16th September >> FR. Martin's Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Mark 8:27-35  for the Twenty-Fourth Week in Ordinary Time, Cycle B:  ‘Who do you say I am?’

Twenty-Fourth Week in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Mark 8:27-35

The Son of Man is destined to suffer grievously

Jesus and his disciples left for the villages round Caesarea Philippi. On the way he put this question to his disciples, ‘Who do people say I am?’ And they told him. ‘John the Baptist,’ they said ‘others Elijah; others again, one of the prophets.’ ‘But you,’ he asked ‘who do you say I am?’ Peter spoke up and said to him, ‘You are the Christ.’ And he gave them strict orders not to tell anyone about him.

   And he began to teach them that the Son of Man was destined to suffer grievously, to be rejected by the elders and the chief priests and the scribes, and to be put to death, and after three days to rise again; and he said all this quite openly. Then, taking him aside, Peter started to remonstrate with him. But, turning and seeing his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said to him, ‘Get behind me, Satan! Because the way you think is not God’s way but man’s.’

   He called the people and his disciples to him and said, ‘If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me. For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but anyone who loses his life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.’  

Gospel (USA)

Mark 8:27–35

You are the Christ.…the Son of Man must suffer greatly.

Jesus and his disciples set out for the villages of Caesarea Philippi. Along the way he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” They said in reply, “John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others one of the prophets.” And he asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter said to him in reply, “You are the Christ.” Then he warned them not to tell anyone about him.

   He began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer greatly and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and rise after three days. He spoke this openly. Then Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. At this he turned around and, looking at his disciples, rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.”

   He summoned the crowd with his disciples and said to them, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and that of the gospel will save it.”  

Reflections (4)

(i) Twenty Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

It is central to our nature as human beings to ask questions. We ask questions about our world, about others, about ourselves, about God. A great deal of our lives is driven by the search to have our questions answered. It is often the case that the answer to a question generates a host of other questions, and so the search goes on. Some of our questions, those relating to the big mysteries of life, are not easily answered. We discover that we have to live with a lot of unanswered questions. We hope that in the glorious light of eternity all our questions will be finally answered. As Paul says in his first letter to the Corinthians, ‘Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known’.

Jesus asks many questions of others during his public ministry. Some of his questions are very probing, such as his opening question in the gospel of John, addressed to the disciples of John the Baptist, ‘What are you looking for?’ In today’s gospel reading, Jesus asks two questions of his disciples. The first question, ‘Who do people say I am?’ concerns other people’s views of him, which the disciples answer relatively easily. However, the second question is much more probing, ‘Who do you say that I am?’ It is one of those questions of Jesus that hangs in the air for all of us. Each one of us is asked to answer that question for ourselves. It is not just a question that is looking for information. It addresses our heart as well as our head. In asking, ‘Who do you say I am?’ Jesus is asking ‘Who am I for you?’ ‘What place do I have in your life?’ The answer Peter gave to Jesus’ question was factually correct, ‘you are the Christ’. However, Peter’s answer left open the further question of what kind of Christ Jesus would be. Jesus immediately began to give his own answer to that further, underlying, question. He went on to speak of himself as the Son of Man who would suffer grievously, who would be rejected by the religious authorities and be put to death by the Roman authorities, before rising to new life on the third day. This was Jesus’ own answer to the question he put to his disciples. It was an answer that was too painful for Peter to live with. He was much more comfortable telling Jesus who he thought he was, ‘You are the Christ’, than listening to Jesus telling him who he really was, a Christ who would be rejected and be put to death.

We can all find it easier telling people who we think they are than listening to them trying to tell us who they really are. In particular, we can struggle to hear the story of someone’s brokenness, especially when the person speaking matters a great deal to us and has become very significant for us. No one wants to see a friend or a loved one suffer. Peter had left everything to follow Jesus. He wasn’t able to hear Jesus talking about himself as a broken, failed, rejected Christ or Messiah. It was really only after the resurrection that Peter and the disciples were able to come to terms with Jesus’ ignominious death as a rebel king on a Roman cross. It can be a struggle for us to accept failure and brokenness in others. That may be because to struggle at times to accept our own brokenness and failures. Jesus could accept his own pending experience of rejection, failure and brokenness and he could talk about it to those closest to him, because he trusted that God his Father would make him whole again. He believed that out of his suffering and death God would bring new life for himself and for others. Because he could accept the painful reality of his own brokenness and suffering, he was at home with the suffering and brokenness of others. The broken, the rejected, the failures of this world, flocked to him, and, in his presence, they began to become whole again.

We will more easily accept our own brokenness and failures if we know in our heart of hearts that we too can approach the Lord as one who can make us whole, who can bring new life out of our various experiences of suffering and death. The Lord who was broken on the cross for us is present in the Eucharist as our healer and Life-Giver. The Eucharist has been described as bread broken for a broken people. We can approach the Lord in the Eucharist in our own brokenness asking to be made whole again. Strengthened by that encounter with the Lord of life, we are then sent from the Eucharist to bring something of his healing and life-giving presence to those who are broken in body, mind or spirit. This is the kind of active faith that James calls for in today’s second reading, a faith that expresses itself in loving deeds. When, at the end of the gospel reading, Jesus calls on his followers to renounce themselves, to lose their lives for his sake, he is asking us to enter into the spirit of his own self-emptying love which places the well-being of others before our own desires.

And/Or

(ii) Twenty Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

We are familiar with the saying that ‘actions speak louder than words’. What people do is more revealing of who they are than what they say. If people say one thing and do another, it is what they do that ultimately shapes our perception of them. St James in the second reading expresses his conviction that our relationship with God is revealed much more by how we behave than by what we say. He is rather dismissive of those who say ‘I have faith’ and yet, as he puts it, have ‘never done a single good act’. James implies that if our relationship with the Lord, our faith, is worth anything, it has to find expression in the ways we relate to others, especially to those who are in greater need than ourselves.

Jesus would not have disagreed with James in this regard. He was critical of those who say ‘Lord, Lord’ and, yet, do not do the will of his heavenly Father. He once spoke a parable in which the son who told his father that he would not go into the vineyard to work, but subsequently changed his mind and went, is to be preferred to the son who told his father that he would go into the vineyard, but subsequently did not do so. When it comes to our relationship with the Lord, actions do speak louder than words.

Yet, today’s gospel reading suggests that for Jesus, words and what we mean by them are important in assessing the quality of our relationship with God. When Jesus asked his disciples ‘Who do you say that I am?’ Peter spoke up on behalf of them all and declared, ‘You are the Messiah’. At one level, these words of Peter were perfectly acceptable. Jesus was the long-awaited Jewish Messiah. Yet, at another level, what Peter meant by these words, how Peter was thinking, was completely at odds with how Jesus was thinking. When Jesus went on to reveal that as Messiah he would also be the suffering and rejected Son of Man, Peter rebuked him. This was not the kind of Messiah Peter had in mind at all. He clearly did not see himself as the follower of a crucified Messiah. Peter’s rebuke of Jesus earned Peter an even stronger rebuke from Jesus, ‘Get behind me, Satan! Because the way you think is not God’s way but man’s’. Jesus was very critical of the way Peter was thinking, Peter’s mindset – a mindset that revealed itself in what Peter said and would subsequently reveal itself in what Peter and the other disciples did, when they took flight at the time of Jesus’ passion.

Today’s gospel reading suggests that Jesus was very interested in the mindset that was at the root of how people both spoke and acted. He wanted his followers to have God’s mindset on things, God’s perspective. That is why Jesus invested a lot of time and energy in teaching his disciples. In his teaching he was trying to communicate his own mindset and perspective to his disciples, so that his mindset would become theirs as well. In today’s gospel reading Jesus teaches that remaining true to God’s calling and getting involved in God’s work will often mean travelling the way of the cross. He was teaching his followers that they must be ready to choose that way, if remaining faithful to God’s values, as Jesus reveals them, requires it. Faced with such teaching, Jesus’ disciples showed themselves to be reluctant learners. They resisted his teaching; Jesus struggled to shift their very human way of thinking.

If today’s second reading declares that how we act is more significant than how we speak, in revealing our relationship with God, the gospel reading suggests that more important than both is how we think. Our way of thinking about God, our understanding of God, will invariably influence what we say and what we do. A distorted understanding of God can do great damage, as we know.

Thinking correctly about God has always been a value within Christianity from the beginning. We are encouraged to bring our minds to bear on who God is, who Jesus is, on what it means to be a follower of Jesus. Our faith must always be a faith that seeks understanding. When it comes to God and God’s Son all of us remain learners, including those who have the ministry of teaching within the church. This kind of learning is not just a human endeavour; it has to be a graced endeavour. Paul says in his first letter to the Corinthians: ‘No one comprehends what is truly God’s except the Spirit of God… we have received the Spirit that is from God, so that we may understand the gifts bestowed on us by God’. We need the light of the Holy Spirit if we are to think in God’s way and, out of that, to speak and act in God’s way.

In today’s gospel reading, Jesus calls on Peter and the other disciples to change their way of thinking. That change Jesus called for was a long time in coming, according to Mark’s gospel. Jesus’ efforts to teach his disciples continued to meet with resistance. Yet, he persevered with them. We too can be slow learners when it comes to the things of God. Yet, the Lord perseveres with us; he remains our teacher; he continues to give us the Spirit of Truth who will lead us into the complete truth. What he looks for from us is the openness to being led.

And/Or

(iii) Twenty Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

We are aware from our own experience just how difficult it is to really know someone. Even those who have been sharing each other’s lives for many years don’t necessarily know each other fully. We can struggle to know ourselves fully, never mind knowing someone else. Even when we know ourselves well, revealing ourselves to others, does not always come easy to us.  It can be a struggle to reveal ourselves even to those who are closest to us. There is a lot of talk today about transparency. However, no human being will ever be fully transparent to another human being.

When Jesus asked his disciples the question, ‘Who do people say I am?’ he was checking to see how well people had come to know him. The answers that he received suggested that people had some insight into who he was, although a rather limited one. Jesus was neither Elijah, nor John the Baptist nor one of the prophets, although he had something in common with all of them. Jesus then went on to ask a more probing question of his disciples, ‘Who do you say that I am?’ Jesus would have expected that his own disciples would have had a fuller insight into his identity. Jesus had chosen them to be with him; they had seen and heard a lot of him. Jesus’ expectations were, initially, not disappointed. Peter gave a more satisfactory answer to the question of Jesus’ identity than people at large were giving, ‘You are the Christ, the Messiah’. Peter was right. Jesus was the long awaited Jewish Messiah.

However, it soon became clear that Peter did not in fact know Jesus very well. If we struggle to know those closest to us and, even, to know ourselves, it is not surprising that people struggled, and continue to struggle, to know Jesus. If there is more to each of us than meets the eye or ear, there was certainly more to Jesus than met the eye or ear. The question that Jesus addressed to his disciples, ‘Who do you say I am?’ is addressed to all of us. We would probably all give somewhat different answers to that question, but one thing is certain, none of the answers would be completely adequate. If coming to know someone close to us is an adventure, a journey with many twists and turns, coming to know the Lord is an even greater adventure and an even longer journey. It is an adventure worth heading into, a journey worth taking on. An important part of our baptismal calling is to come to know the Lord with our head and with our heart. Jesus has revealed himself to us, and continues to reveal himself to us in and through the Holy Spirit. Of course, we will only know the Lord fully when we see him face to face. He will always remain something of a mystery to us on this side of eternity.

This morning’s gospel reading shows that, even though Peter showed some insight into Jesus at Caesarea Philippi, Jesus remained a mystery to Peter. Yes, Peter knew that Jesus was the Christ, the Messiah, but he had no idea about the kind of Messiah that Jesus would become. Immediately after Peter’s moment of insight into Jesus, Jesus went on to reveal a little more about himself. He spoke of himself as the Son of Man who was destined to suffer grievously, to be rejected by the religious leaders of the time, and to be put to death. This was not the kind of Messiah Peter had in mind, and so he took Jesus aside and began to rebuke him. Peter had his own image of Jesus and what Jesus was saying did not fit that image. Peter’s reaction to Jesus is not unlike how we react to each other. We can have a certain image of people, and we expect them to fit that image. When they show themselves to be more mysterious, more complex, than our image of them, we can be slow to accept them. Peter struggled to accept a Messiah who had to travel the way of the cross. Perhaps he understood that following such a Messiah would mean that he himself would have to travel that same way of the cross. However, Jesus cannot be fully understood apart from the cross. His death reveals who he is more fully even that his life. His death reveals Jesus to be someone who was totally faithful to God and to all God’s people; it is above all his death that reveals the quality of Jesus’ love for God and for all of us. It is not surprising then that the cross has become the dominant symbol of Christianity.

Because Jesus had to travel the way of the cross, he calls on us, his followers, to take up our cross after him. Taking up our cross is not passively accepting every misfortune that comes our way. The language of ‘taking up our cross’ suggests freely choosing the cross. Following Jesus, remaining faithful to him and to his values, will always mean freely choosing the more loving path for his sake. The more loving path will often be the more difficult path, the way of the cross, but it will also be the path of life, both for us and for others.

And/Or

(iv) Twenty Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

I think we would all agree that it is never easy to get to know someone really well. A husband and wife who have lived together for many years probably know each other really well. They have come to know each other’s qualities and limitations and have learnt to accept one another. Likewise, two people who have been friends for years will have come to know one another really well. They will have come to some measure of mutual acceptance and appreciation. The number of people we could claim to know really well in life is probably quite small. Even those we know well can continue to surprise us. We can discover a side to them that we never noticed before. We can suddenly be reminded of the extraordinary mystery of the other person, struck by the otherness of the person whom we have come to know and love. We realize more clearly that the other person is different to me and will always remain a mystery to me, even though I know them as well as I know anyone.

If we were to ask someone who really knew us, ‘Who do you say that I am?’ and then asked that person to write a couple of paragraphs answering that question, we would certainly recognize ourselves in what they would write. Yet, it is likely that we would also recognize that there are sides to us that are not present in the description. There is always so much more to us than someone’s account of us, even the account of someone who knows us deeply. In the gospel reading this morning Jesus asks his disciples two questions. The first was, ‘Who do people say that I am?’ The answers the disciples gave were fine in so far as they went, ‘John the Baptist, Elijah, one of the prophets’. Jesus was a prophetic figure who proclaimed God’s word. Yet, to say that Jesus was a great prophet, which is what Moslems say of Jesus, does not go far enough. Jesus then asked his disciples the more probing question, ‘Who do you say that I am?’ Peter’s answer went beyond the answers that other people had given, ‘You are the Christ, the Messiah’. Peter was saying to Jesus, ‘you are the Jewish Messiah, the one we have been waiting for, the one whose coming the prophets foretold’.  Yet, in spite of the very good answer that Peter gave to Jesus’ question, he really did not know Jesus at all. The term ‘Messiah’ meant different things to different people. Probably Peter thought of a Messiah in the tradition of king David who had established a kingdom, having defeated all Israel’s enemies. Jesus would do the same, driving the Roman occupying power from the land. This was not the kind of Messiah Jesus understood himself to be. At this point in this ministry he understood that far from leading a movement to drive out the Romans, he would end up on a Roman cross, crucified like a common criminal. Faithfulness to his mission would cost him his life. When Jesus began to articulate this reality Peter rebuked Jesus. This was not Peter’s idea of a Messiah. Peter could not accept the otherness of Jesus, the mystery of Jesus’ identity. Peter was comfortable telling Jesus who he was, but when Jesus began to reveal who he really was and what that entailed Peter became distinctly uncomfortable.

We probably all find it easier telling people who they are than listening to people tell us who they really are. In particular, we can struggle to hear the story of someone’s brokenness, especially if our picture of them has been one that doesn’t allow for that. Peter wasn’t able to hear Jesus talking about himself as a broken, failed, rejected Messiah. It was really only after the resurrection that Peter and the disciples were able to come to terms with such brokenness, such failure. It can be a struggle for us to accept failure and brokenness in others and also to accept our own brokenness. Jesus could accept his own failure, his own brokenness, because he trusted in God as one who would make him whole. Because he could accept his own failure, his own brokenness, he was at home with the failure and brokenness of others. The broken, the failures of this world, flocked to him, and in his presence they came alive. We will more easily accept our own brokenness and failures if we know in our heart of hearts that we too can approach the Lord as one who can make us whole. The Eucharist has been described as bread broken for a broken people. The Lord who was broken on the cross for us is present in the Eucharist as our Life-Giver. We approach the Lord in the Eucharist in our own brokenness asking to be made whole, and asking also for the grace to be able to sit with others in their brokenness.

Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland.

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