Saturday, 24 October 2015

REFLECTION FOR THE 30TH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME

Some years ago now, a famous actor, who seemed to have everything, fame, looks, popularity, p
ublicity, wealth, friends and charm, quite unexpectedly committed suicide. His reason? As he put it in his suicide note: “I was so bored.” What does it mean, to be so bored that life is not worth living? To have the world at one’s feet, and to find it bland and tasteless?

“You are the salt of the earth,” Jesus’ tells us in Matthew’s gospel. Consider first what salt means in our lives. Anyone who has been put on a low-salt diet will understand! Despite all the inventive substitutes science has offered, there is nothing to compare with good old-fashioned salt for bringing life and taste to food. Food without salt is about the most boring and bland thing one can imagine! Advertising agencies and business know well that it is one of the ingredients most responsible for the massive turnover and profit of the big fast food chains. Salt, literally, brings flavour and thus variety to life.

“You are the salt of the earth.” The disciple of Jesus has the same function in the world as salt has in food. Just salt brings out the fullness of flavour in food, so the disciple of Jesus is to bring out the fullness of meaning in the God’s creation. The world was created by God, and human beings can only really learn to understand, to love, to care for it if we become aware of the meaning and purpose with which God has invested it. When we grasp God’s plan for his creation, the world ceases to be a bland or indifferent place, and comes alive with colour, meaning and excitement. In the words of Gerald Manley Hopkins, “The world is charged with the grandeur of God.” This is at the heart of Jesus’ message.

“You are the salt of the earth.” It is God’s plan to reveal the purpose his creation through the person of Jesus Christ. And in founding his Church, Jesus is calls us to be members of his very own Body. We are to be his presence in the world, through which he reveals God’s presence to everyone. God wants us to be the means by which all men to see the glory, his glory, which shines out through creation, leading us beyond that which we see to the Creator himself. 

Do you see yourself as one through whom the “grandeur of God” is revealed to the world? One has the uncomfortable feeling that we can be our own worst enemy in this task. Another British poet, Swinburne, wrote of Jesus: “Thou hast conquered, o Pale Galilean, and the world has grown grey with thy breath.”

If this is the image the Church really projects, then we have much to answer for. For we have been given everything that God could possibly give us. We know the great Creator of all, who saw that all he had made was good; we have been shown how any ugliness, any dullness in the world is not part of the nature of the creation itself, but of the grey and dull ugliness of sin, which we have brought upon it; and we have been entrusted with the glorious news of its redemption through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ “for us men and for our salvation.” We know that God’s plan is for a renewal of creation, a restoration beyond even its initial beauty and goodness, to something unimaginably beautiful and holy.

If we are to be the “salt of the earth,” we must fulfil our God-given task of communicating the “grandeur of God” to those around us. For we know that it is Hopkins’ glorious vision, rather than Swinburne’s grey and colourless one, that is the truth. If we fail in our vocation as bearers of this vision, if we do not become the means through which God reveals his purpose and plan, then we, too, have become less than useless, like salt which has lost its taste. May God bless each one of us, and may he truly make us, in word and deed, the “salt of the earth,” so that all men, in the words of the psalmist, might “taste and see that the Lord is good.” 

Amen.

Fr Phillip

Friday, 16 October 2015

REFLECTION FOR THE 29TH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME

Paul is for a large number of Catholics a closed book. We are used to the Jesus of the Gospels, which are usually the Scripture of choice for Sunday homilies. But the dense, almost indigestible chunks of Paul that form the main content of the Sunday Second Reading? What does he really have to say to us?

It is hard for us to conceive that Paul’s letters predate even the earliest of the Gospels, Mark, by at least five years. Paul was the great missionary, the one who spread the Gospel of Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, throughout the known world of his time. The Church, which wrote the Gospels between about 60-95 AD, had already been brought to faith in Jesus Christ by Paul’s missions and, his missionary letters which date from about 51 AD, which is when his earliest one, 1 Thessalonians, was probably written. When the Gospels, which we rightly reverence specially amongst the books of the New Testament, were written, they were received into a Church which had already been formed and won over to Jesus Christ by the great missionary work of Paul.

Paul’s language is dense, often difficult. Like the rabbi he once was, he thinks and argues in circles, coming back to the same ideas over and over in the course of a single passage. Yet it is Paul who holds so many of the keys to our faith. The Protestant churches are far more at home with Paul than we are, and very often, when Paul is preached in the Catholic Church, it is a Protestant convert who does so.

For Paul, Faith and the Holy Spirit are closely linked, since it is the Holy Spirit who convinces us in faith, and gives us an understanding of the Scriptures. But this power and wisdom also brings us into salvation. By being convinced of the truth in Scripture through the Holy Spirit, we are saved. And for Paul, faith is not some vague kind of belief, like the modern idea of “believing in yourself”. It is faith in “Christ Jesus”. This faith, as we have described it, is what brings us to bear fruit, the fruit of “every kind of good work”. This is important: it is this profound conviction of faith in Jesus Christ that brings us to bear the fruit of good works, not the other way round.

Paul calls us, in the same way, to stand firm in our faith, to believe in the truths of faith we have been taught from our youth. He calls us to allow the Holy Spirit to empower us with utter conviction that Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, is Lord, and to be his unflinching witnesses in and out of season. He calls us to attend to the Scriptures that can teach us, refute error, correct us and discipline us.

If we are ever to the convince the world that Jesus is Lord, we have to believe it ourselves, and witness to it at all times. The world, though it might hate us, must be able to say of us, “they really believe in something” – or rather, “someone”. In the world in which we live today, it is time for us all to put aside the easy compromises we so often make, to lay down the exceptions to the Church’s teaching about faith in Jesus Christ which we reserve to ourselves. We all, lay people and priests, have to turn from our often half-baked faith and the indifferent, lukewarm witness it gives, and become, like Paul, utterly convinced. God will give us that gift of faith through the Holy Spirit, if we really ask him because we truly want this superlative gift he gives.

Let us all stand firm in that which have been taught, of which we are convinced. In the world in which we live, in the era in which we are called to witness, one which is not so different to Paul’s, that is our only hope.

Fr. Phillip

Thursday, 8 October 2015

REFLECTION FOR THE 28TH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME

Today’s second reading, from the letter to the Hebrews, gives us a clear picture of the nature of the word of God. For God’s word is not just sounds with meaning, as is the language we use. When God speaks, things happen; the power of his words carry out what they promise.

This is one of the first lessons of Genesis: “God said, ‘Let there be light!’ and there was light.” God creates through his all-powerful word. This is explained in some detail in Isaiah 55: “For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that for which I sent it.” In Hebrews, it becomes “sharper than a two-edged sword.” In other words, it becomes a word of judgement, by which truth and falsehood are separated and falsehood condemned.

Finally, “the Word became flesh, lived among us.” God’s word becomes a person, so that, in the words of Jesus to Philip, “he who has seen me has seen the Father.” Words communicate knowledge, and the Word of God which he reveals to us in Jesus is the fullness of his revelation to us. Beyond Jesus, God has nothing more to say to us, because in Jesus, he has said it all. The deeper our relationship with Jesus, the closer we will be to the Father and the more intimately we will know him.

Jesus, too is a the Word of Judgement. John tells us, in chapter 3 of his Gospel, that “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God sent the Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through Him. He who believes in Him is not condemned; he who does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God.

This, in turn, tells us something about our response in faith to Jesus Christ. Faith leads to a judgement of salvation; unbelief to a judgement of damnation. Peter confirms this in his sermon on the first Pentecost Sunday, which is also the very first Christian sermon (Acts 2): “There is no other name in heaven or on earth by which we can be saved.” Pope Benedict XVI expressed this very powerfully in his instruction Dominus Iesus (The Lord Jesus). So important is salvation in Jesus Christ, he teaches, that even if someone who has never heard of Jesus Christ dies and gets to heaven, it is not because he is good or virtuous, but because the Lord Jesus died to take away his sins.

We are saved through faith in Jesus Christ. By this, the Word of God, Jesus, purifies us of all our sins and makes us fit to live with God forever. May we learn to know him more closely every day that in seeing him, we might see the Father, and live for all eternity with him.

Fr Phillip.

Tuesday, 6 October 2015

REFLECTION FOR THE 26TH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME

In the Book of Numbers, from which we read today, the elders of Israel are given the gift of prophecy when summoned before the Tent of Meeting in the desert. When God gives the same gift to two men left behind in the camp, the elders’ immediate reaction is indignation: “Who do these fellows think they are to usurp what is our exclusive right?” It is left to Moses to give the divine answer. Firstly, if God has given these two men the gift, who are mere human beings to deny it? Secondly, far from limiting the gift of prophecy and making it something small and exclusive, Moses expresses the wish that it were given to everyone. Moses’ longing, which reflects God’s action, is for universality rather than exclusivity.

There is a similar, even stronger message in today’s gospel reading. Jesus has called the Twelve and given them certain powers, including that of exorcism, the casting out of demons. When they find a man who is not a disciple doing the same, they are outraged, and want to put a stop to his activities; they, after all, are Jesus’ appointed disciples. He immediately redirects their thinking; the important issue is not who is “in,” but who is doing Jesus’ work. The fact that this man is not one of Jesus’ disciples does not prevent him serving Jesus. Jesus goes further to explain that the smallest service done for him, or in his name, is still truly an act of service to him.

Once again, the divine call is not to exclusivity and division, but to universality and solidarity. It is no accident that the incident around which this story is based is an exorcism; the clear message is that Satan will not be defeated if those who claim to serve God spend more time fighting and vying with each other than in fighting against the evil one. By stopping the outsider from performing his exorcism, the disciples are preventing the war against Satan from being fought!

This is a vital lesson for us today. In an increasingly secular world, which more and more is coming out into an open contempt for God and his kingdom, it is vital for Christians to stand together against the foe, and to stand united. We cannot allow the Church to be fragmented into little exclusive groups, each claiming to represent the real truth. We cannot refuse to work together with other Christians who stand as squarely against the foe as we. No-one who truly does the will of God can be against him. In Jesus’ own words: “He who is not against me is with me.” As long as we allow ourselves to be divided by our little human exclusivities, Satan’s kingdom will triumph over us.

But we must stand fast, and stand together. Within and without the Church, we must seek to co-operate with all who love the Lord Jesus and serve in his name. We need to work together; we need especially to pray together. May God, who loves us, who died for our sins and rose from the dead to give us life, free us from all evil and unite us in Christ for his own kind purposes. Amen.

Fr Phillip

Monday, 21 September 2015

REFLECTION FOR THE 25TH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME

Have you ever noticed how we commit the same sins over and over again, rather than different ones all the time? There is a reason for this. Sin leaves its mark upon us, rather as red wine does when spilled on a white tablecloth. The cloth can be washed clean, but the stain remains. It takes a lot of rubbing and stain remover to get the cloth white again. In the same way, the stain that sin leaves on us has to be scrubbed away, or it will cause us to commit the same old sins over… and over… and over…

The Church has traditionally identified seven of these “stains” of sin. Three have to do with love of others’ harm: pride, where we push ourselves up at others’ expense; envy, where we hate another for having something we want but do not possess; and wrath, uncontrolled anger directed towards another, which can be active or passive (sulking). There are three in which we turn our love away from God himself and towards the objects he has created; lust, gluttony and covetousness, which is longing for the possessions or gifts that others possess. Between these comes sloth in which, though we don’t actually do something bad, we somehow never get around to doing what we should. As Philip Neri put it, “When shall we begin to do good?”

How can we deal with these sins? From earliest times, Israel had three practices which the Church has accepted into its life; fasting, prayer and almsgiving. Fasting means taking control of our bodies’ incessant demands for comfort and indulgence. By saying “No!” to our physical side, we take control of our lives. In prayer, we turn away from self and allow our relationship with God to be restored. In almsgiving, we turn away from self to restoring our relationship with those around us. All of these are aimed at turning us away from turning our lives inwards on ourselves, and outwards towards self-forgetfulness, love of God and love of neighbour. And in doing this, we are making it possible for God to enter our lives and to scrub away at the stain of sin within us.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus draws his disciples away from envy and pride towards humility and self-forgetfulness. He sets the relative unimportance of a small child against the desire for self-importance among his disciples. He calls us to do the same. We should be able to rejoice in the gifts God has given us, and at the same time to rejoice in those of others, even when their gifts are greater than ours. But we need, too, to live out those familiar but forgotten old practices of fasting, prayer and almsgiving as a path to holiness. In the words of David, “O purify me, then I shall be clean. O wash me until I am whiter than snow.” May David’s longing become a reality in the lives of each one of us.

Fr Phillip.

Wednesday, 16 September 2015

REFLECTION FOR THE 24TH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME

This Sunday’s First Reading is from the Prophet Isaiah. But it is a rather special reading for Christians. To understand this, we need to take a brief look at what is the longest book of prophecy in the Old Testament. Isaiah falls quite neatly into three sections: Chapters 1-39, chapters 40-55 and 56-66. These are often, for convenience, referred to as First, Second and Third Isaiah.

First Isaiah contains the famous prophecies of the Messiah’s birth, of “Emmanuel; a name that means ‘God-with us’”. We all recognise passages such as “A maiden is with child…for unto us a child is born, a son is given…and they shall call him ‘Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.’” We hear these words every year at Christmas time. Third Isaiah contains some of the glorious readings we hear after Christmas on feasts such as the Epiphany, with the visit of the Magi, in passages that remind us of the Star of Bethlehem: “Arise! Shine out! For your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you!”

But Second Isaiah is quite different. It contains, amongst much else, four Songs of the Servant of the Lord, which increasingly reveal him as a Suffering Servant. The fourth of these we always read on Good Friday, and its Christian application is unmistakable: “A man of sorrows and familiar with suffering…so disfigured did he look that he seemed no longer human…on him lies a punishment that brings him peace, and through his wounds we are healed…”

Today’s first reading is the third of these Songs of the Servant of God. It presents him as being falsely accused before the authorities of his people, despised, insulted and humiliated, but nevertheless confident that whatever he has to suffer, God will ultimately vindicate him.

Take up your Missal when you have a quiet moment, and read through this passage slowly. For a Christian it resembles so much the trial of Jesus before the Council of his own people; for he was not tried by foreigners, but by those who should most have understood whom he is, who should have recognised him when he came, but did not do so; his own people, and their leaders at that, who really should have known better.

But we should also look to ourselves. When taxed that he had portrayed the Jews as Christ-killers in his film The Passion of the Christ, Mel Gibson replied, “If I were to say who crucified Jesus, I’d begin with these,” and held up his own hands. In the film it is, in fact, his own hands that hammer the nails into Jesus’. The leaders of Israel may have been instrumental in securing Jesus’ crucifixion, but we must never forget that he is the “Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.” And that means our sins; all of them.

Yes; it is our sins that nailed him to the cross. But God does not hold this against us. He wants us to come to repentance for sin, to turn back to him and seek the forgiveness that Jesus alone has won for us by his death and resurrection. Failure to do this empties the cross of Christ of meaning in our lives. “Seek the Lord while he is still to be found!” counsels the same prophet Isaiah. There is nothing more important in our lives. In the prayer of Jesus to be found in the lines of poetry affixed by the composer Gustav Mahler to the beginning of the last movement of his Third Symphony, “Father, look upon these wounds of mine. Let not one of your creatures be lost to you!” May it be so.

Fr Phillip.

Friday, 4 September 2015

REFLECTION FOR THE 23RD SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME

Some years ago it was fashionable to seek human explanations for the miracles of Jesus. For example, according to this kind of thinking, there was not really a miraculous multiplication of loaves and fishes when Jesus fed the five thousand. What happened was that Jesus persuaded the crowd to be unselfish and to share what they had already brought with them.

But this hardly squares with the reactions of Jesus’ disciples, or of the crowd. The people recognised the Messianic power of Jesus to provide in plenty and wanted to make him king by force, so that Jesus had to escape from them. Clearly, the crowd’s strong reaction is not the consequence of a mere exhortation to share on Jesus’ part; it is the response to something tremendous which actually happened, something so tremendous as to provoke their extreme reaction.

These expectations of the Messianic age are to be found in the Old Testament long before Jesus’ time. The people of Israel expected that, when the Messiah came, there would not be only miracles, but a complete transformation of the earth as they knew it: “…waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water.”

This is something far more than the human miracles with which today’s Old Testament reading begins. It is nothing less than the restoration of Paradise, the Garden of Eden, replacing the hot, sandy deserts which were are still the  familiar surroundings of the Middle East. It is the vision of a new earth, a new creation. God does not just restore to Israel its kingdom; he returns earth to the condition in which it was before the Fall.

In Jesus, this becomes a new heaven as well as a new earth. John, in the book of Revelation, sees this in a glorious new Jerusalem; he sees it, in fact, as a wedding, with the new Jerusalem as the Bride and the Lamb, Jesus himself, as the bridegroom. Heaven is joined to earth in Jesus, and God lives permanently amongst men, their light in place of sun and moon, their Temple in place of stone buildings.

In Jesus, the miraculous cannot be limited to the kind of little human gestures described in the first paragraph of this reflection. God has as his vision the transformation of the whole creation into something new. He will transform our hearts, too, making us fit to live in this new creation. Let us take heart, then. God is not about to make a few little adjustments in order to make our present world a better or nicer place; he plans a new world, a transformed world, a world so beautiful and good that it is beyond our powers to imagine it.

Fr Phillip

Sunday, 30 August 2015

REFLECTION FOR THE 22ND SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME

In the Old Testament, the Law is everything. God calls Israel to be his chosen people, his Light to the World. But God is so holy that for a sinful human to look upon him means death. He manifests himself in thunder, lightning, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions. The reaction of his people is to throw themselves upon their faces on the ground for fear of looking upon him. How, then, did this totally holy God communicate with his people?

He did it by giving them a Law. “Be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy,” is its essence. By obeying this Law, his people become pleasing to him. He made his presence felt in the Tent of Meeting in the middle of the Israelite camp, where the leaders and elders could consult with him. God intended his Law to bring his people to holiness. By living its provisions, their hearts could be changed, they could achieve the sanctity he desired for them.

But the Law, unfortunately, degenerated into an outward observance. People did what it said, but did not allow it to change their hearts or their lives. And gradually it became less and less influential amongst God’s people. The prophets at first thought to bring Israel back to God’s Law, his Covenant with them. Later, they came to realise that the Old Covenant had broken down irretrievably, and that their only hope was a New Covenant. Of this New Covenant, Jeremiah said, “Deep within them I will plant my Law, writing it on their hearts.” And Ezekiel: “I will take out of your chest your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh, and cause you to walk in my commandments.”

The New Covenant, which Christians know as the one sealed with the Blood of Christ, who died to take away our sins and rose from the dead to bring us eternal life, is one signalled by repentance and baptism. It is inside us from the very beginning of our Christian lives. A change of heart; that is what Jesus requires of us. He has strong words for his contemporaries in today’s gospel: “This people honours me with their lips, but their heart is far from me…you leave the commandments of God, but hold fast to the commandments of men.”

Jesus wanted the actions of humans in their religious observances to lead to a change of heart, not mere external observances. For a Christian to do this is even worse than for Jesus’ contemporaries, the Pharisees, because we know better. For a Christian, the most fundamental act of worship is a turning to God from sin, a change of heart. Our religious observances count for nothing if they do not lead to this.

As we worship God in this cathedral today, let our minds turn to this powerful reality; that he really can and wants to change us, that he can place his laws, his commandments into our hearts if we invite him into our lives. Let us do this, and leave this place today as changed persons, filled with his love, seeking holiness and ready to do his will in all things.

Fr Phillip.

Saturday, 22 August 2015

REFLECTION FOR THE 21ST SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME

Do you remember, as a young schoolchild, being given an assignment for the following week; how far away it seemed? There was so much time before the task had to be handed in; there was no hurry. And then, suddenly, it was the evening of Wednesday and the assignment was due on Thursday morning, and there just was not enough time to do it justice. So, either you had to make a lame excuse as to why it was not done and face the consequences, or face the equally unappetising consequence of a poor mark for a rushed job. Did you ever wish, in such a situation, that you had not wasted the time of the previous week when you could have been preparing thoroughly for the due date of that task?

In the letters of Paul to the communities of the early Church, there is always a sense of this urgency. The day of the Lord could come at any moment; are you ready to meet him when he comes? In Paul’s era, the expectation really was that the Lord could come again at any moment, and he was, in fact, expected to return quite soon after his Ascension. As time passed, they realised that this was not the case, that Jesus’ return might be quite some time later than originally expected.

But this did not alter the urgency with which they regarded his return. We do not know when or how Jesus will return, only the fact that he will, that it will be unexpected; as the Lord himself put it, “It is not for you to know the times or places”. Paul is quite clear, as is Jesus himself in the Gospels, that we must be ready to receive the returning Lord whenever he might appear. Whether there will be a great judgement of all human beings at the end of time, or whether each one of us will pass through individual judgement at the time of our own death, we do not know, and there is evidence for both in Scripture. But the only way to be ready to receive the Lord Jesus when he comes again is to be ready to receive him at all times. A half-baked, rapid prayer at the last moment may not be enough if our hearts are not prepared to receive him.

So it is, in today’s second reading from the letter to the Ephesians, that Paul encourages us to be prepared through our love and attention to prayer, our care for one another, our dedication to supporting and encouraging one another in preparing for his coming. He urges us to sobriety and constant prayer “with all our hearts.” If we want Jesus to place us amongst the saints in his kingdom, then we must give him pride of place in our own hearts. There is no such thing as a “basic minimum” to get into heaven; we are either all for Jesus, or not at all. In our daily lives let us heed Paul’s wise words today, and in everything that we do, let us keep ourselves ready to receive Jesus, whenever he might return.

Fr Phillip.

Saturday, 15 August 2015

REFLECTION FOR THE FEAST OF THE ASSUMPTION

The Scriptures have much to tell of the Mother of Jesus, and indeed, much more to tell us when we study her very few words to us and the events surrounding her life.

The angel tells her, “Hail, full of grace”. This literally means “You who are already filled with grace,” for the Greek perfect tense in which it is expressed implies a present situation arising from something that has happened in the past. If Mary is “filled with grace,” there is no room for any sin within her. Mary’s flesh is already sinless when Jesus is conceived, so that he might truly be “One like us in all things but sin.”

From this follows the teaching that Mary never bore another child but Jesus. The Jewish leaders of Jesus’ time claimed membership of God’s holy chosen people by virtue of their genetic descent. John the Baptist tells them that this means nothing, that “God can raise up sons of Abraham from these very stones.” Our only claim to a relationship with Jesus is through baptism, by which we are reborn as adopted sons and daughters of God.

Mary’s visitation to Elizabeth her cousin, six months pregnant with John the Baptist, has a profound message to us as well. When Mary arrives and greets Elizabeth, Elizabeth says, “The moment I heard your voice, the child in my womb leapt for joy. How blessed am I to receive a visit from the mother of my Saviour!” The unborn John the Baptist recognises the presence of the barely conceived Saviour, Jesus. This should certainly make clear to us the preciousness of human life, and the evil of abortion.

Finally, there are Mary’s words to us. “I am the handmaid of the Lord; let what you have said be done to me.” An engaged fourteen-year-old girl accepting a pregnancy by no human agency; who would believe her? And facing a penalty of death by stoning? What faith to accept God’s call in the face of such a situation! Yet she did, and placed her faith , her life and her future completely in God’s hands.

The other, at the wedding at Cana, when Jesus turns water into wine, applies these words to our own lives. What an embarrassing situation at a Jewish wedding, to run out of wine! Mary knows that Jesus will act despite his reluctance, and tells the steward, “Do whatever he tells you!” — “…whatever he tells you!” A strong command, but one which saves the honour of the groom and allows the guests to continue to rejoice.

How often do we complain that God doesn’t help us, that he seems to leave us high and dry? But do we do whatever he tells us? Or only something of it, just in case God messes up  and we have to take things into our own hands? Mary placed her all in God’s hands, and as a result her words “All generations shall call me blessed!” have become true in a way she could never have imagined. Like Mary, doing whatever God tells us might lead us to things we might never have imagined. And like Mary, we, too, will be blessed in ways beyond our imagination if only we would do “whatever he tells us.”

Fr Phillip

Thursday, 6 August 2015

POPE FRANCIS' GENERAL AUDIENCE 5 AUGUST 2015

With this catechesis we take up again our reflection on the family. After speaking last time of wounded families caused by the misunderstanding of spouses, today I would like to focus our attention on another reality: how to take care of those that, following the irreversible failure of their marital bond, have undertaken a new union.

The Church knows well that such a situation contradicts the Christian Sacrament. However, her look of teacher draws always from her heart of mother; a heart that, animated by the Holy Spirit, always seeks the good and salvation of persons. See why she feels the duty, “for the sake of truth,” to “exercise careful discernment.” Saint John Paul II expressed himself thus in the Apostolic Exhortation Familiaris consortio (n. 84), pointing out, for instance, the difference between one who has suffered the separation and one who has caused it. This discernment must be made.

If, then, we look at these new bonds with the eyes of little ones - and the little ones are looking - with the eyes of children, we see even more the urgency to develop in our communities a real acceptance of persons that live such situations.  Therefore, it is important that the style of the community, its language, its attitudes are always attentive to persons, beginning with the little ones. They are the ones who suffer the most, in these situations. Otherwise, how will we be able to recommend to these parents to do their utmost to educate the children in the Christian life, giving them the example of a convinced and practiced faith, if we hold them at a distance from the life of the community, as if they were excommunicated? We must proceed in such a way as not to add other weights beyond those that the children, in these situations, already have to bear! Unfortunately, the number of these children and youngsters is truly great. It is important that they feel the Church as a mother attentive to all, always willing to listen and to come together.

In these decades, in truth, the Church has not been either insensitive or slow. Thanks to the reflection carried out by Pastors, guided and confirmed by my Predecessors, the awareness has greatly grown that a fraternal and attentive acceptance is necessary, in love and in truth, of the baptized that have established a new coexistence after the failure of their sacramental marriage; in fact, these people are not at all excommunicated, they are not excommunicated! And they are absolutely not treated as such: they are always part of the Church.

Pope Benedict XVI intervened on this question, soliciting careful discernment and wise pastoral support, knowing that “simple recipes” do not exist (Address to the 7th World Meeting of Families, Milan, June 2, 2012, answer n. 5).

Hence the repeated invitations of Pastors to manifest openly and consistently the community’s willingness to receive and encourage them, so that they live and develop increasingly their belonging to Christ and to the Church with prayer, with listening to the Word of God, with frequenting of the liturgy, with the Christian education of the children, with charity and service to the poor, with commitment to justice and peace.

The biblical icon of the Good Shepherd (John 10:11-18) summarizes the mission that Jesus received from the Father: to give his life for the sheep. This attitude is also a model for the Church, which receives her children as a mother that gives her life for them. “The Church is called to be the House of the Father, with doors always wide open [...]” No closed doors! No closed doors! “Everyone can share in some way in the life of the Church; everyone can be part of the community. The Church [...] is the house of the Father, where there is a place for everyone, with all their problems” (Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii gaudium, n. 47).

In the same way all Christians are called to imitate the Good Shepherd. Above all Christian families can collaborate with Him by taking care of wounded families, supporting them in the community’s life of faith. May each one do his part in assuming the attitude of the Good Shepherd, who knows each one of his sheep and excludes no one from his infinite love!

Tuesday, 28 July 2015

REFLECTION FOR THE SEVENTEENTH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME


Dear Friends in Christ

This portion of the gospel on the feeding of the multitude is one that is very familiar to us, and it is full of imagery pointing to Jesus being the Bread of Life. A crowd has followed Jesus because of the miracles they have seen him perform. There are thousands to feed, not enough money, and seemingly inadequate provisions. But we know what happens when Jesus offers thanks for the food at hand. There is more than enough for everyone, and all are astonished.

However, it would seem that there is more to the story than giving thanks and providing food. As the scene is opening and the situation becomes clear, Jesus poses the problem to Philip and the disciples: "where can we buy enough food for them to eat?"(John 6:5). Yet scripture tells us that Jesus already knew what he was going to do: "He said this to test him, because he himself knew what he was going to do".

Jesus uses this circumstance to bring his disciples deeper into his mission. He is encouraging them to see that his work is also their work. In other words, he is nurturing those seeds of faith, preparing them to believe things that up to this point were thought unbelievable.

But again, the act of satisfying people's physical hunger is not to be ignored. Taking responsibility for the hungry and those less fortunate is paramount in sharing in the reign of God. Jesus provided bread for their hunger; his life was bread for their lives. We are called to do and be the same.

Fr Mafu

Thursday, 16 July 2015

REFLECTION FOR THE SIXTEENTH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME

“They were like sheep without a shepherd.” There are few sadder lines uttered by Jesus than this. People flocked to him because he “spoke with authority.” They recognised that in him, God spoke directly to them. And they followed him because he was giving them the clear, firm leadership that was so lacking in the religious leaders of his time.

There were four main trends in the religion Israel. There were the Sadducees, who served in the Temple. They were concerned with keeping in with the Roman overlords to protect their position of power. They were also avid in the acquisition of wealth. There were the Zealots, who saw religion mainly in political terms, revolutionaries whose aim was to overthrow the Romans. There were the Essenes, who removed themselves from everyday society and lived a life of endless rituals and purifications. There were the Pharisees, who at least were concerned with teaching the religion of Israel to the people. But they turned it into a complicated legal system of 613 commandments which was impossible for the man in the street to learn, let alone keep.

Jesus answered all of these in ways that were radical and direct. He hurled the market, which was a money racket, out of the Temple, his message to the Sadducees loud and clear: “This is my Father’s house, but you have turned it into a den of robbers.” The Essenes he answered simply by working, teaching and healing amongst the people, to the point of utter exhaustion. To the Zealots his answer was, “Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s.” Rendering to God, in his case, meant suffering a terrible death in order to carry out God’s will for him. He cut through the endless legalism of the Pharisees; for example, of their many Sabbath laws, which turned the Jewish day of rest into a nightmare, he said, “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.”

Jesus’ ministry, which is the model for every priest, is one of service; to preach God’s word, to administer his sacraments, to minister to the pastoral needs of his people. Like Jesus, the priest must take time aside to pray. And like Jesus, the Good Shepherd, he must be prepared to lay down his life for his sheep. This is the yardstick by which every priest should judge his ministry.

But not only priests. The world is filled with people who do not know God, who long for Him without knowing it, who want Him even when they insult and scorn him. Every Christian shares in this ministry. Those who do not know him must see in our lives that he is the only hope, the one who answers all our questions, who gives meaning to our existence. Do we leave others around us like sheep without a shepherd? If so, we have a lot of work to do to.

Friday, 10 July 2015

REFLECTION FOR THE FIFTEENTH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME

The book of the prophet Amos is one of the most studied in the Old Testament.  During the last half of the previous century, Amos was popular for his strong message of social justice. But this is to miss the point. Amos is not primarily a prophet of social issues, but of the worship of the one, true God.

First, what is a prophet? Not someone who foretells the future. A prophet is a messenger from God, sent to call Israel back to Him when they have wandered from the path of truth. But a prophet speaks the word of God, which is “alive and active, sharper than a two-edged sword” (Hebrews). We are told that “God said…and it was so” (Genesis). In other words, because a prophet spoke God’s word, he did not merely foretell the future; the very words he spoke actually brought it about. And the essence of the prophetic message is simple: come back to the Lord, and all will be well; continue on your path of sin, and you will have to face the consequences. Not a popular message for those engaged in sin as a way of life, particularly if it is economically profitable! Little wonder the rulers of Israel killed the prophets at such a rate; they wanted to silence them before they spoke oracles which might come true.

Amos was also speaking against the background of Psalm 135: “…they have mouths, but they cannot speak…eyes, but they cannot see… ears, but they cannot hear…their makers will come to be like them, and so will all who trust in them.” The pagan gods of which he speaks had produced nations of great cruelty and immorality. And we become like the gods we worship. This is the core of Amos’s message.

In our times, economic exploitation and social injustice have reached epic proportions. Massive financial, economic and military forces, as well as the speed of transport and communication, have made this possible. But this is ultimately a consequence of the corrupt human heart. And our age is also one of the most godless in history. When the “bottom line” becomes our yardstick, then anything that promotes it is acceptable to us. And it has become the yardstick of the earthly powers of this age.

But if we worship the true God, the God of love, of truth and compassion, the God who did not spare his own Son for our sake, then we will become like him, for he purifies our hearts as surely as modern gods corrupt them. Of Jesus, Peter says, “there is no other name in heaven or on earth by which we can be saved.” Former earthly powers have fallen one by one. All looked invincible – but all have passed, Ozymandias-like, leaving few traces of their former glory. The same will happen to ours. Its apparently invincible power pales into insignificance before the authority of God. Like Amos, we need to remain faithful to the true God. He is our only hope. He will never let us down or abandon us.

Fr Phillip

Wednesday, 8 July 2015

READY FOR ANYTHING!

Preparation for Mass which one might not find in the GIRM
Of the last five Sunday 6pm masses at Sacred Heart Cathedral, three have been celebrated in darkness due to load shedding. But South Africans are a hardy lot. Each Sunday, more of us have been ready for such an eventuality, coming to Mass armed with lamps and torches. Here is a photo of the celebrant’s chair for Sunday 5th July, showing such preparations. On this occasion, the Mass was celebrated without electrical incident. We are thus thankful for the Kyrie intercession we have been praying for the past month: “You bring light to those in darkness…”



Saturday, 4 July 2015

REFLECTION FOR THE 14TH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME

Some years ago, when I was struggling with a bright but very disturbed pupil, a psychiatrist whom I consulted about him said this: “Remember, think in the long term. In thirty years’ time he might be about to stab someone, and something you said might just stop him.”

It is so often like this in our Christian faith. It is not visible success that is the most important factor in our service of God; it is our faithfulness. In the early chapters of the book of the prophet Ezekiel this is made clear: “Son of man, if I tell you to warn the wicked man to repent and you do not, he will surely die for his sins, but I will hold you responsible for his death. But if you warn the wicked man to repent and he does not, he will die for his sins, but you will have saved your life.” The issue is not how many wicked men repent; that is their choice. The question is whether we are faithful in carrying out God’s will for us. The prophets were more often met by ridicule, suffering and death than by success; their hearers were, after all, not over-eager to hear news that they would suffer if they refused to turn from their favourite (and often profitable) vices to God. But despite this, God, who wants all men to be saved, sent the prophets to them so that they might hear the call to repentance.

On the surface, the ministry of Jesus was an apparent failure. He was rejected in many places, as in today’s gospel. He collected a small band of followers around him, one of whom betrayed him, all but one of whom denied and abandoned him when he was finally arrested. The leaders of his own people conspired against him and succeeded in having him killed. In sheer human terms, Jesus was one of the greatest failures who ever lived.

And yet, after his Resurrection, the Good News of his Lordship spread like wildfire throughout the earth. His opponents were powerless to stop it. His disciples were themselves prepared to die rather than refute his name. Within just a few decades, his had become the name on everyone’s lips. Still today, he is revered by billions world-wide, and all the dark forces of the world which oppose his Church, one by one, have fallen away, as he promised to his followers: “…the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” Who, living during Jesus’ time on earth, could have predicted all this, based upon the evidence of his eyes and ears alone?

It is the same for us. We are called to “go out to the whole world and proclaim the Good News.” Christianity is something public; it was never meant to be cosy and private. In the Creed we confess our faith publicly every Sunday. And we are to bear witness to the Good News of the Lord Jesus, risen from the dead, in word and deed. Like Ezekiel, we will encounter opposition and even hatred in the modern world, for the powers that be are, in this era, particularly threatened by the Church’s proclamation, which questions pretty much everything they stand for. And like Ezekiel, we may see very little response to the Word in those to whom we bear witness. But we have God’s promise to Ezekiel with which this reflection began, and that should be enough for us.

We may never see or know what effect our words, our actions have on others. But, to paraphrase the words of the hymn, if we are faithful, others will know He is alive in us. When old Ananias, faithful to God’s command, went in fear and trembling to baptise Saul, the murderous enemy of the first Christians, could he have known that he was baptising the man who would become one of Jesus’ greatest Apostles and missionaries, spreading the Good News to most of the known world of his time and writing half the books in the New Testament? Did the catechist in little Kar
ol Wojtyla’s home parish have even an inkling that she was forming in faith a pope and a saint? We must never underestimate the effect our words might have on others, even when we see no result ourselves. We are called to proclaim the Good News, all of us, in every time and place. Let us be faithful in doing just that. We never know when our proclamation might just change the world.

Wednesday, 1 July 2015

REFLECTION FOR THE 13TH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME

Today’s Gospel shows Jesus on his way to raise up a little girl who “is not dead but sleeping.” The narrative of his journey is interrupted by another miracle, the healing of the “flow of blood” from a woman in the crowd surrounding him. The story sounds very graphic; whoever is recounting it saw what happened before his eyes, and remembers it vividly.

Yet all said, there is more to this story than meets the eye. The synagogue official is desperate about the fate of his sick little girl. But Jesus seems calm, collected and not at all in a hurry. When a messenger rushes on to the scene to tell the synagogue official that his daughter has died, Jesus’ only comment is the apparently inappropriate, “Do not fear, only believe.” When Jesus remarks, without even seeing the child, “she is not dead but sleeping”, he is laughed at. But by the words “Talitha, kumi” he raises her up and restores her to her without doubt thankful and joyful parents.

The word “kumi” is a Hebrew command which means “Arise!” It is the link with Jesus’ command to the synagogue official, “Do not fear, only believe.” It is the prelude to a conversion of heart, followed by the command “Shuv!” which means “Turn around!”, a 180º turn which takes us back in the direction from which we came. When the Prodigal son returns to his father from pig-keeping in a gentile country (the lowest to which a Jewish man of Jesus’ time could sink), he says to himself, “I will arise and go to my father and say, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you’!” Arise and go; kum and shuv. He has turned back from sin towards his father, as we are called to turn away from sin towards Our Father in heaven. When Jesus calls on the synagogue official saying, “Do not fear, only believe,” he is calling upon the man to believe in him. As in last week’s gospel, in the midst of the storms of life, Jesus brings calm. It is no doubt because the others scoffed that Jesus would not let them into the house. He required of them that they have faith in him because of whom he is, not merely because of the miracles he performs.

And yet, they already have an example in front of them before he even reaches the synagogue official’s house. The woman with the flow of blood does have faith in him, that he can heal her, that “If I touch even his garments, I shall be made well.” Jesus, being whom he is, is aware of the healing that has just taken place; the whole crowd must have been pressing in against him, yet her touch is different because of her faith. In fact, his response to her is, “Your faith has made you well.” Yet despite seeing this sign and hearing his response about faith in their very presence, they scoff at his power to “wake up” the little girl. But  even here, we must remember that to “fall asleep” is often a euphemism for death, which in turn tells us something about Jesus’ attitude towards death, to be destroyed by his Resurrection.

Jesus calls us, too, to believe in him, not because of miracles or even the “gospel values” (that dreadful term!) he teaches, but because of whom he is. We are called to have faith in him as a person, to turn away from our sins and to be converted back to him. Today’s stories abound with this message of faith and conversion. May they also become our own story, that his words may resound in our hearts: “Do not fear, only believe!”

Friday, 19 June 2015

REFLECTION FOR THE 12TH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME

In 1987 there was a massive drought in Natal, so much so that water was not merely restricted, but actually rationed to 400 litres per day per household. When it broke there were extremely violent thunderstorms, such as we had not seen for a very long time. I remember it vividly, for I had the terrifying experience of flying through one in a little Boeing 737 on my way back to Durban to be ordained to the priesthood. One of the striking things about those storms was how, well after the skies had cleared, the seas continued to batter the coast. The sea was by no means calm once the storms had abated.

We can miss this detail in the story of today’s gospel. Jesus rebukes the storm and it subsides. We are told that “the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.” A sceptical person might see Jesus’ rebuke and the cessation of the storm as coincidental. But there is nothing natural about the sudden calm. As the storm ceases, the energy of the waves subsides. Since there were fishermen amongst the disciples in the boat, men who knew the sea of Galilee well, this would not have been lost on them. Look at their response: “…even wind and waves obey him.” They are in awe at the sheer scale of the work  that Jesus has just performed, and of what that implies about who he is.

Jews, and therefore Jesus’ disciples,  were not at all sceptical about miraculous events; indeed, these were acknowledged signs of the presence and reality of God’s power. But the miracles of the Jewish healers consisted largely of healings and exorcisms. Already in the multiplication of the loaves, as well as later in the raising of Lazarus described in John’s Gospel, Jesus shows extraordinary powers over nature, far beyond those of his contemporaries. But to calm a storm and the waves of the sea with merely a command? Only God is capable of such power, and they realise it in no uncertain terms. Those of them who were familiar with the book of Job would have recognised in this event the words of God to Job: “Who shut in the sea with doors…and said, ‘thus far shall you come, and no further’.” Or perhaps the words of Isaiah, “…if you pass through raging waters in the sea, you shall not drown…” The suddenness with which the violence of the waves subsided was witness to them of the total power of God over his creation.

We would do well to recognise this truth in our daily lives. We all pass through storms; in our families, our work, our finances. We are confronted with crime, violence, all the threats to our children. Sometimes these figurative seas threaten to capsize us. It is essential not to forget that Jesus, now as then, is with us, even though he seems to be asleep in the stern as our little boats are tossed about by the storms that surround us. But he blesses and protects those whom he loves, and who love him. The answer is total surrender to his will. We need to place our whole lives in his hands, to follow and obey him in all that he asks of us. In his own words as we have them in John’s gospel: “In the world you will have sorrows. But be brave; I have already conquered the world.” 

Fr Phillip

POPE FRANCIS GENERAL AUDIENCE 17 JUNE 2015

“We can console one another in this faith, knowing that the Lord has conquered death once and for all.”

In the course of catecheses on the family, today we take direct
inspiration from the episode narrated by the Evangelist Luke, which we have just heard (cf. Luke 7:11-15). It is a very moving scene, which shows us Jesus’ compassion for one who suffers -- in this case a widow who has lost her only son -- and it shows us also Jesus’ power over death.

Death is an experience that concerns all families, without any exception. It is a part of life and yet, when it touches family affections, death never seems to appear to us as natural. For parents, to survive their children is something particularly excruciating, which contradicts the elementary nature of relations that give meaning to the family itself. The loss of a son or a daughter is as if time stood still: a chasm opens that swallows the past and also the future. Death, which takes away a small child or youth, is a slap to the promises, to the gifts and sacrifices of love joyfully given to the life that we made to be born. So often parents come to Mass at Saint Martha’s with the photo of a son, a daughter, a baby, a boy, a girl, and they say to me: “he is gone.” Their look is so sorrowful, and death does touch us. And when it is a child, it touches us profoundly. The whole family remains as though paralyzed, dumb. And the child that remains alone, because of the loss of a parent, or of both, also suffers something similar. The question: “But where is Daddy?” “Where is Mommy?” -- In Heaven -- “But why can’t I see him?” -- the question that covers the anguish of the little boy or the little girl. He remains alone. The void of abandonment that opens within him is all the more anguishing because of the fact that he does not even have the sufficient experience to “give a name” to what has happened. “When is Daddy coming back?” “When is Mommy coming back?” What can one answer? The child suffers. Death in a family is like this.

In these cases, death is like a black hole that opens in the life of families and to which we are unable to give an explanation. And sometimes one even blames God.

But how many people -- I understand them -- get angry with God, curse: “Why have you taken my son, my daughter? But God isn’t! God doesn’t exist! Why has he done this?” We have heard this so often; however, this anger is what comes, somewhat, from the heart of a great sorrow. The loss of a son, of a daughter, of the father, of the mother is a great sorrow, and this happens continually in families.

In these cases, I have said that death is almost like a hole. However, physical death has “accomplices,” which are even worse than it is, and which are called hatred, envy, pride, avarice, in sum, the sin of the world that works for death and renders it even more painful and unjust. Family affections seem like the predestined and defenseless victims of these auxiliary powers of death, which accompany the history of man. We think of the absurd “normality” with which, in certain moments and in certain places, the events that add horror to death are caused by the hatred and the indifference of other human beings. May the Lord deliver us from becoming used to this!

In the People of God, with the grace of his compassion given in Jesus, many families demonstrate with facts that death does not have the last word. And this is a real act of faith. Every time that a family in mourning -- even terrible -- finds the strength to protect the faith and love that unites us to those we love, it impedes death, already now, from taking everything. The darkness of death is confronted with a more intense work of love. “My God, lighten my darkness!” -- is the invocation of the liturgy of the evening. In the light of the Resurrection of the Lord, who does not abandon any one of those that the Father has entrusted to him, we can take away from death its “sting,” as the Apostle Paul says (1 Corinthians 15:55); we can impede its poisoning our life, rendering our affections vain, making us fall into the darkest void.

We can console one another in this faith, knowing that the Lord has conquered death once and for all. Our dear ones have not disappeared into the darkness of nothingness: hope assures us that they are in the good and strong hands of God. Love is stronger than death. Therefore, the way is to make love grow, to render it more solid, and love will protect us until the day in which every tear will be wiped away, when “death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain any more” (Revelation 21:4). If we let ourselves be sustained by this faith, the experience of bereavement can generate a stronger solidarity of family bonds, a new openness to the sorrow of other families, a new fraternity with the families that are born and reborn in hope.

To be born and reborn in hope! – this is what faith gives us. However, I would like to underscore the last phrase of the Gospel we heard today. After Jesus brings this young man back to life, son of the mother who was a widow, the Gospel says: “Jesus gave him to his mother.” And this is our hope! All our dear ones who have gone -- all -- the Lord will restore to us and we will meet together with them. And this hope does not disappoint. Let us remember well this gesture of Jesus! “Jesus gave him to his mother.” Jesus will do this with all our dear ones in the family.

This faith, this hope protects us from the nihilist view of death, as well as from the false consolations of the world, so that the Christian truth “does not risk mixing itself with mythologies of various sorts,” yielding to rites of superstition, ancient or modern” (Benedict XVI, Angelus, November 2, 2008).

Today it is necessary that Pastors and all Christians express more concretely the meaning of faith in dealing with the family’s experience of bereavement. The right to weep should not be denied. We must weep in mourning. Jesus also “wept and was “profoundly moved” by the grave mourning of a family he loved (John 11:33-37). Rather, we can draw from the simple and strong witness of so many families who, in the very hard passage of death, were also able to pick up the secure passage of the Lord, crucified and risen, with his irrevocable promise of the resurrection of the dead. The work of the love of God is stronger than the work of death. It is precisely of that love of which we must make ourselves active “accomplices” with our faith! And let us remember that gesture of Jesus: “And Jesus gave him to his mother.” He will do this with all our dear ones and with us when we shall meet, when death is definitively defeated in us -- and defeated by the cross of Jesus.

Jesus will restore all families. Thank you.