In times of trouble …

Thursday 1 of Lent

Readings: Esther 4:1-7; Psalm137; Matthew 7:7-12

As they came to the end of their time on the top, the legendary Beatles sang ‘words of wisdom’:

When I find myself in times of trouble
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Sometimes things get too much for us to bear on our own, and we need someone to help us; someone who stands in front of us in the hour of darkness to speak words of wisdom. It might not solve all our problems for us – we will still need to endure the onslaught of what is difficult – but it will give us the space we need to regain our composure once again.

Queen Esther finds herself in such a predicament in today’s first reading. She has been overtaken by mortal peril, and she cries to the Lord to come to her help, for she is alone. She realises that there is no help for her outside the Lord, and that it is folly to place her trust in anything else but the love of God.

Jesus confirms Esther’s lesson to us in the Gospel. He reassures us that if we need, we should ask, and we will receive. If a hungry child asks for a piece of bread, who would give them a stone? And if we who are sinful would be moved by this, how much more will our loving Father be moved, if we come to him seeking help?

In Lent, when we consider the brokenness of our sinful lives, we realise the depth of our dependence on God. We call to him in our need and he answers.

We would see a sign

Wednesday 1 of Lent

Readings: Jonah 3:1-10; Psalm 50; Luke 11:29-32

In today’s gospel, the crowds ‘seek a sign’. They want Jesus to perform a miracle of the kind that they think they will recognise; they would like Christ to behave in a way that they think they can identify as ‘God’s way’. In effect, they are looking for the kind of God they expect to find.

These crowds are not alone in asking Jesus to fit their expectations. Christ often has to negotiate, one way or another, the gap between what people think God’s servant ought to be like and the way he actually is. Even his followers continually misinterpret his intentions.

But why cannot Christ just give the crowds the ‘sign’ they demand? Why cannot God give us that ‘sign’?

I think the answer is that he is just not that kind of God.

In Christ, God appears to the world stripped of anything that makes him different from other human beings; he comes without supernatural accompaniments. It is true that Christ performs miracles, but they are not really ‘miracles on demand’ and they are meant to communicate something specific about the meaning of his life or his place in the history of salvation. In fact, there is a real sense in which the miraculous just does not lie at the heart of Christ’s life at all. Instead of offering supposedly supernatural certification of who he is, Christ points elsewhere.

In today’s gospel, while refusing to give a ‘sign’, Christ demands something which is, on the face of it, much more commonplace. He demands that the crowds change their hearts and minds, that they repent. This is something Christ continually asks in one way or another. It is there, he seems to say, that God would be seen - when people turn away from falsity, apathy and indifference. This would be an event less obviously spectacular and dramatic than what the crowd means by a ‘sign’, but if people would seek forgiveness and peace, take themselves less seriously, attend to each other, that really might be a ‘sign’.

Hearing the Word of God

Tuesday 1 of Lent

Readings:Isaiah 55:10-11; Psalm 34; Matthew 6:7-15

A word, once let out of the cage, cannot be whistled back again - Horace.

How often have we regretted something we’ve said? How many times do we speak without thinking and provoke damage, pain and sorrow? It is a familiar feeling to wish to undo what has been done; to re-gather the words that have escaped and cage them within us. But we cannot.

This is not the picture of God’s Word we find in Isaiah: ‘it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and prosper in the thing for which I sent it’ (Is 55.11). The Word of God is not only purposeful, powerful, always appropriate; it returns to God with the same power, purpose, appropriation. The Word of God does not escape, but is sent and returns in one moment, one eternal act.

This is the breathing of God and the source of life for the earth. And it is into this life of God that we are called by the Word made flesh, Jesus Christ. But the Word is not only that through which God creates all things, nor only that by which God saves humanity. The Word that is God is the one in whom God reveals himself, his will, his purpose in the scriptures.

Let us pray this Lent that we recognise the Saviour, the life of God within us as we hear his living Word: ‘Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven’ (Matt. 6.10).

Transformed

Monday 1 of Lent

Readings: Leviticus 19:1-2, 11-18; Psalm 18; Matthew 25:31-46

As I greeted her jovially on the street, I wondered why she was looking so pale. After a few minutes, she told me the story of her college mate who was found dead in his room on Sunday. He had hanged himself. He was a normal, happy and respected guy, and nobody knew the reason why he did what he did. We stood in the street for a while in silence and assured each other of our prayers.

On my way home, I felt somewhat numbed. Why is it that I live and breath and walk and so many others cease to do so in this very moment. There are no rational arguments which could explain why I live and the others do not any more. Life as I’m able to lead it is a gift. And where there is a gift, there is a giver. God bestowed this wonderful life on me as a free and wonderful gift. I live and with me all the other wonderful people, in the midst of this marvellous world. Rather surprisingly, it is the encounter with death and nothingness in our everyday life which makes us discover the quality and beauty of life and its root: God.

Paul implores us “to offer your very selves to Him: a living sacrifice” (Romans 12:1-2). It means we should follow Jesus Christ on His way to the cross, and not only “spiritually” but very actively. Then we can “discern the will of God” and see more clearly his recreating love.

With Christ in the Desert

First Sunday of Lent

Readings: Deuteronomy 26:4-10; Psalm 90; Romans 10:8-13; Luke 4:1-13

‘Filled with the Holy Spirit, Jesus left the Jordan and was led by the Spirit through the wilderness, being tempted there by the devil for forty days’ (Luke 4:1). During this season of Lent we are invited to set out more fervently on our journey of spiritual conversion by following Christ into the desert for a period of intense prayer that we might receive the grace to turn away from those things that threaten our relationship with God and with each other.

Although this journey of conversion may seem to be particularly associated with Lent, it is, in fact, one that we are called to undertake with renewed effort each and every day of our lives. As Jesus tells his disciples later in Saint Luke’s Gospel, ‘If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross every day and follow me’ (Luke 9:23).

Today’s Gospel passage reminds us that even if we are able to flee temptation on one occasion – temptation to commit all those acts which threaten to harm either ourselves or others – then this is no guarantee that we will not encounter greater temptations later on, waiting to pounce at moments of particular weakness and susceptibility or at moments when our continuing the Christian journey seems difficult or fruitless. Our preparations in Lent can strengthen us to deal with such moments.

To grow in holiness is to grow closer to God and to have an instinct for the ways of God. When we show a lack of trust in God’s ability to save us, or when we try to put God to the test by presuming that he will save us whatever we do, then we stand in danger of failing in the spiritual life.

The Christian journey is a joyful one and we must not forget this even in Lent. At the same time, we know that we can only truly grow in Christian love if we learn to deny our own desires or our own hankering after power or a good reputation. This can be a painful thing to learn. Yet it is only in following this Way of the Cross that we can hope eventually to come to the Resurrection.

"I have come not to call the righteous, but sinners"

Saturday after Ash Wednesday

Readings: Isaiah 58:9-14, Psalm 85:1-6, Luke 5:27-32

In today’s Gospel we have an account of the call and response of Levi the tax collector. In Jesus’ time, being a tax collector was not a popular occupation. Those tax payers amongst us might sympathise – a letter from the tax office is rarely greeted with joy! Yet amongst the Jews the poor tax collectors were really treated as outsiders. The taxes were demanded by the Roman occupiers, which made the tax collectors traitors. Corruption was widespread, even encouraged by the occupiers. But most scandalous of all, especially for the Pharisees, was the fact that tax collectors had dealings with Gentiles in the course of their work. Because of this contact with those who were not observers of Pharisaic laws, the tax collectors were deemed to be ritually impure, outcasts.

How shocking then, that Jesus should be associated with Levi, and even more shocking that he should be seen dining with a whole group of similarly ‘unclean’ people, engaging in an act which symbolised friendship and acceptance – friendship with and acceptance of the untouchables. By doing this, Jesus breaks down the barriers between the Jews and the Gentiles. The boundaries are now marked in a new way, so as to gather in all those who are in need of his mercy, of his compassion and healing – people just like us. Levi’s response to the call, immediately leaving everything to follow Jesus, brought him within this new boundary. By humbly acknowledging our faults before God in prayer and in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, we recognise our need for his grace and mercy. Then like Levi we open ourselves up, allowing ourselves to become the kind of people who can receive God’s healing, able to freely respond to the call to discipleship.

Good news indeed!

Can fasting be in vain?

Friday after Ash Wednesday

Readings: Isaiah 58:1-9; Psalm 50; Matthew 9:14-15

'Why have we fasted, if you do not see, why mortify ourselves if you never notice? Look, you seek your own pleasures on your fastdays' (Isaiah 58:3).

The subject in Isaiah 58 is fasting. The text tells us that the people wanted to know the ways of God. Indeed, it says, they sought him day and night. This being the case then, we must say that the people's desire was commendable.

But this is what is sad about this story. They wanted to get closer to God but they were going about it all the wrong way. This is what has impressed itself on my mind. One may be in desperate need of God, and one may do what seems to be the accepted thing to do, in this case fasting, and it can all be in vain. Let this not be us. Let us not fast in the way that pleases us, but in the way that pleases God. The kind of fast that pleases God is 'to break unjust fetters, to let the oppressed go free, to share your bread with the hungry, and shelter the homeless poor, to clothe the one you see to be naked and not turn from your own kin' (Isaiah 58:6-7).