Mind the gap!

Thursday 2 of Lent

Readings: Jer 17:5-10, Ps 1:1-2, 3, 4 and 6, Lk 16:19-31.

Today’s Gospel contains a message that should give us a jolt. We have an account of the rich man, who during his life clearly enjoyed all the good things that could possibly come his way. His garments were fine, befitting a man who enjoyed not only material wealth, but status too. There is a gulf between the rich man and Lazarus, the man who was sick and poor, who was ever present to the rich man at his gate, yet whose existence the rich man did not acknowledge

Why is there this gulf in Hades? Because the rich man set it up! It is caused by his lack of concern for Lazarus while he was alive. Indeed, the first time we see any sign of concern for others from the rich man, it is too late. All too easily, we can slip into a kind of narcissism, an excessive interest in ourselves to the exclusion of others. The truth is that we cannot be human in the fullest sense without our concern for others. Relating to others is an essential part of us, one that needs constant cultivation lest we create gulfs just like the one between the rich man and Lazarus. An authentic, profound, Christ-centred prayer is an important part of identifying and eliminating such gulfs in our own lives. Then we may open our eyes to the needs of those around us, and enter into relationship with them.

These gulfs can exist not only between us and people like Lazarus, but also much closer to home. We must constantly ask for the grace to be able to treat others we live and work with as people made in the image and likeness of God. Only then can we be attentive to their needs and concerns. We should also remember that there are many different kinds of riches in life: although we might not have millions in the bank, we may still be healthy, we may be loved and cared for by others, we may have the luxury of time for leisure, and so on. All these good things left unchecked can turn into gulfs. We are called not only to be generous with our money, but to examine the ways in which we might be called to give more of ourselves to others, and in so doing become more fully human, conformed to the image of Christ, who is the most profound expression of God's self-giving.

Give heed to me, O Lord.

Wednesday 2 of Lent

Readings: Jeremiah 18:18-20; Psalm 30; Matthew 20:17-28

'Give heed to me, O Lord, and hearken to my plea' (Jeremiah 18:19).

'O Lord my God, I cried to thee for help, and thou hast healed me' (Psalm 30:2).

Today the first reading is taken from the prophet Jeremiah and the psalm is Psalm 30. In the case of Jeremiah, he is crying out to God against his adversaries. Jeremiah continues '... deliver up their children to famine; give them over to the power of the sword ... deal with them ...' (Jeremiah 18:21,23). In the case of the psalm, it is David singing to the Lord at the dedication of the temple, where he recounts how he has been delivered from his adversaries. He, David, says 'I will extol thee, O Lord, for thou hast drawn me up, and hast not let my foes rejoice over me ... I cried to thee for help' (Ps 30:1-2).

What is amazing is the boldness with which the prayers are made. In the case of Jeremiah, he not only speaks to God with boldness, but he makes some serious demands of God, which might seem rather shocking to us. Jeremiah says: '... may their men meet death by pestilence, their youths be slain by the sword in battle' (Jeremiah 30:21). Now, indeed, David's request of God, at least in this psalm, seems less 'bloody', but this does not take away from the point I am getting at. Both Jeremiah and David spoke to God. All this took place before Christ. When the Christ did come, his followers asked Him, how are we to pray. Jesus said, when you pray say: 'Father ...'

The questions, then, are these, when we pray do we always call to mind to whom we are praying? So as to pray more fully? Or have we yet to grasp what Christ has done in reconciling us to our Father?

Learning to do Good

Tuesday 2 of Lent

Readings: Isaiah 1:10, 16-20; Psalm 50; Matthew 23:1-12.


"Learn to do good... come now, let us reason together, says the Lord" - Isaiah 1:17-18

What does it mean to do good? Is it simply to keep the commandments? But surely the scribes and the Pharisees did that assiduously? St Thomas Aquinas would say that the good life does not consist just in doing good things instead of bad things, but in doing them well, and that means from the depths of one's character. A good person does good things because that is who that person is; to be holy is to act for the good and to do it wholly according to one's own character. Such personal integration brings delight and happiness in life.

How does one become a good and happy person? By learning to do good and, as with any learning, practice is required. Lent is like an intense learning period in which we take on acts of prayer, self-denial and charity so as to increase our appetite for the truly good things in life. Initially we do these Lenten practices because we're told to, or because we feel we ought to, but gradually, such behaviour becomes second nature to us, and then, and only then, do we acquire the natural disposition which Aquinas calls the (moral) virtues. As Herbert McCabe says: "Then we are grown-up. Then when we do good actions they are our own, springing from the personality that we have created for ourselves with the help of others" and God's grace.

Moreover, Aquinas says that "right choosing involves having a right goal and suitably acting to achieve that goal... the disposition to act suitably to achieve the goal must dispose reason to plan and decide well, and that is the virtue of prudence." Lent is that time of grace when we can evaluate if we have the right goals in life and if we are on course. This involves prudence, practical reason which helps us to judge rightly and act accordingly. Prudence cannot be exercised without the moral virtues - which we have acquired - but in order for prudence to be exercised effectively, we also need the divine virtues of faith, hope and love. These are given by God alone, hence in learning to do good, we rightly reason together with the Lord.

This Lent, as God continues to school us in virtue, let us be good students of Christ, our only Teacher (see Matthew 23:8).

'Grant pardon, and you will be pardoned'

Monday 2 of Lent

Readings: Daniel 9:4-10, Ps 78:8-9, 11, 13 (R: Ps 102:10), Luke 6:36-38

‘Give, and there will be gifts for you ... because the amount you measure out is the amount you will be given back’ (Lk 6: 38). We are asked to be generous to others in the understanding that our capacity in that way is related to our own salvation. What is the nature of the exchange here? Does Jesus ask good works of us in order that we might earn eternal life? We should remember when reading this passage that Jesus is preaching to his disciples: he is forming the first Christians, who will have the responsibility for passing on his teaching.

That message is not that we can deserve God’s grace. The good works that Jesus asks of us are the fruit of Christ’s own sacrifice and resurrection and the coming of the Holy Spirit. The pardon that we can offer to others is a reflection of the redemption which has been won for us by Jesus himself. Through having compassion towards others, we become people who act with the knowledge of that redemption; who enter into the love of God for the world. As Christians, living in a world that understands religious acts to be onerous duties offered to God in expectation of a reward, our call is to live in the spirit of what God has blessed us with in Christ. We have nothing to give to others, except a small part of what has already been given to us by God in Jesus' life and self giving.

Fear and trembling transformed

Sunday 2 of Lent

Readings: Genesis 15:5-12,17-18; Psalm 27; Philippians 3:17-4:1; Luke 9:28-36

When faced with something unknown I often experience fear. Nothing unusual, I guess, and I’m sure many would sympathize with this. How difficult sometimes it can be to believe a stranger! Yet, Abraham did it. ‘Darkness’ and ‘dread’ fell on him, yet he believed and this was reckoned to him as righteousness (Genesis 15:6). I dislike people who avoid eye contact. It makes me feel extremely uncomfortable. I want to see their face, when they talk to me, for it communicates more than words.

If you fear to trust in God, whom you do not know, remember that God became one of us, so that we could see his human face. When on the Mount Tabor the apostles saw Christ’s transformed face they also beheld God’s glory. Their fear and trembling was then transformed, and they realized, not knowing what to say or what to do, that it does not present a threat to them. The encounter with God led them to accept the mission:

"This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!" (Luke 9:35).

This they followed, giving up their lives for the Word.

I think, then, I can believe the promise of a stranger, whose face and words are true. Even more, still, the true promise of somebody, who is closer to myself than I am. The promise made to Abraham is fulfilled for us, his children in faith, in Christ. Our promised land is his kingdom that begins in this life, on earth, and continues after death, in heaven. The dread of the unknown is being transformed here into a great desire to share in the divine life, to become God’s friend.





You will find a homily for each Sunday and Solemnity on TORCH, the preaching web site of the English Dominicans.

Perfect as the heavenly Father is perfect

Saturday 1 of Lent

Readings: Deuteronomy 26:16-19; Psalm 118; Matthew 5:43-48

As at the beginning of the week the collect today calls us to conversion, to turn our hearts to God. The description of the covenant ceremony between God and the people of Israel reminds us that we are already in a mutual relationship with God, baptised into the new covenant. We are called to walk in the Lord’s way, to be a people holy to God. For as children of God we are, as Jesus says in the climax of today’s gospel, called to be perfect, as our heavenly Father is perfect.

And this is, surely, an unreasonable and excessive demand. We might even agree with Dostoevsky’s Grand Inquisitor that to be presented with such an unattainable ideal imposes an intolerable burden on us. But to construe the passage in this way misses the point. Both readings today conclude lengthy passages of moral teaching – of the promulgation of the law in Deuteronomy and of the beatitudes, the sermon on the mount, in Matthew. They are best read as exhortatory, as a summons to action, to put into practice the statutes and ordinances of God, to be holy as God is holy. ‘Perfect’ here does not mean so much being ‘free from faults’ (which of us could claim that?) as being grown up, being adult rather than childish, fully developed in a moral sense. God then is our role model for unlimited display of beneficence; and we are called to grow into such a God-like perspective loving even our enemies (i.e. everyone) with the care God shows to all, just and unjust alike.

Thanks be to God … for not asking us to pay the last penny…

Friday 1 of Lent

Readings: Ezekiel 18:21-28; Psalm 129: Matthew 5:20-26


Today’s gospel ends with this terse sentence: “you will not get out till you have paid the last penny”.

During mass, after having heard this reading, the congregation will presumably answer, perhaps mechanically, “thanks be to God” … Thanks be to God for what? For God being such a ruthless accountant? Judging us and asking us to pay the last penny. Of course not. It is quite the opposite. Thank be to God … for not asking us to pay the last penny.

In fact, it seems that we are facing here a puzzling paradox. This gospel starts with “you have learnt how it was said to our ancestors: you must not kill”. It alludes to the ten commandments given to Moses. But we quite often tend to forget how they were given: through the intercession of Moses who killed an Egyptian (Exodus 1:12)! What a strange paradox! The lawgiver seems not to be able to respect the law given. But this is not the point. Before following God’s commandments, we are thus asked not to compare, not to judge. Should we do so, should we mark other’s guilt, who would survive - see today’s psalm 129:2.

Perhaps, what Jesus invites us to discover today is that this silly dynamic of ‘accountancy’ is without end if we direct it towards others. We are judges over ourselves only … if we do so, we will not be asked to pay the last penny… “forgive us our sins as we forgive those who trespass against us…”