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.

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.

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

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!

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

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.

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

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…”

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.

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!”

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.

FEAST OF THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS

On Sunday we commemorated the patronal feast of the cathedral and of the diocese: that of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. 

Fr Cyriacus celebrated the 9.00am Mass where an image of the Sacred Heart was blessed after the reading of the Gospel. After Communion the entire congregation processed to the to the end of our driveway (also known as Green Street), led by the Brothers of the Blessed Sacrament, the Catholic Women's League and the Knights of da Gama.

 

  

When the procession reached the bottom of the hill, we paused and prayed over the city, entrusting it to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

 Thereafter, the procession returned to the Cathedral.

After the procession the congregation gathered in the Cathedral again for the final blessing and dismissal. On their way out all were given a memento of the day:

REFLECTION ON THE FEAST OF THE SACRED HEART

The heart is a central symbol of both Judaism and Christianity. The ancients believed that the heart, rather than the brain, was the locus of our thought. Cerebral thinking in the modern sense was unknown to them. Thoughts, for them, were passionate ideas. “A heart to know thee,” as Eugene Cuskelly put it in his Summa of the Spiritual Life. In the case of Christianity, love of God, and in particular of the Risen Lord Jesus, is the core of a profound wisdom. Once again, the heart, with its capacity to feel, is the locus of Christian thought.

In St Philip Neri, the heart is also the home of the Holy Spirit within us. Love is linked to the Holy Spirit and the joy that He brings. Philip would pray in the catacombs at night. While he was praying on the eve of Pentecost, he experienced the Holy Spirit entering him as a globe of fire, coming to rest within his heart. So intense was the joy it brought him, that he was barely able to endure it. He became the supreme saint of the Holy Spirit, the saint of joy par excellence, whose motto, from Psalm 100, was “Serve the Lord with gladness.”

At moments of intensity, his heartbeat would thunder, and such was the heat it generated, according to contemporary witnesses, that even in winter he kept his windows open. It was also said by contemporaries that, when disturbed people were pressed against his chest, they experienced comfort and peace. When he died, a post-mortem examination revealed that his heart had enlarged to twice its normal size, and that several ribs had burst outward in order to accommodate it. On the coat-of-arms of many Oratories is a flaming heart. The flames are frequently stylised into a fleur-de-lis, which was on his family’s coat-of-arms.

The joy of the Lord is a sign of the true presence of the Spirit within the human heart. It is fashionable today, as in many eras, to think that sadness and sorrow are the most profound emotions, that tragedy is deeper than comedy. But this is not so. Aristotle took comedy very seriously as a profound mode of expression. Even an atheist philosopher like Nietzsche had a strong intuition that “joy is deeper than grief”, that “all joy seeks eternity.” Real joy is not mere happiness; it is a deep-seated emotion that flows from the very presence of God within us. No-one knew this better than Philip Neri. Life in eternity with God is joy without end. With his famous cry, “Paradiso! Paradiso!” Philip affirmed this. On this feast of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, then, we remember that we are made for joy; deep joy, beyond all sorrow. And in the example of Philip Neri, we recall that the gift of the Holy Spirit, which we have all received, can and will bring to us to a joy which is beyond all grief, and which will lead us into eternity with God.

Fr. Phillip

POPE FRANCIS' GENERAL AUDIENCE 10 JUNE

We continue with the catecheses on the family, and in this catechesis I would like to touch on a very common aspect in the life of our families, that of sickness. It is an experience of our fragility, which we live in the main in the family, as children and then, especially, as elderly, when infirmities arrive. In the ambit of family bonds, the sickness of persons that we love is endured with “more” suffering and anguish. It is love that makes us feel this “more.” So often it is more difficult for a father and a mother to endure the sickness of a son, of a daughter than their own. The family, we can say, has always been the closest “hospital.” Even today, in many parts of the world, the hospital is a privilege for a few, and it is often far away. It is the mother, the father, brothers, sisters and grandparents that guarantee care and help to heal.

In the Gospel, many pages narrate Jesus’ meetings with the sick and his commitment to heal them. He presents himself publicly as one who fights against sickness and who has come to heal man from every illness: the illness of the spirit and the illness of the body. The evangelical scene just referred to in Mark’s Gospel is truly moving. It says thus:  “that evening, at sundown, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons” (Mark 1:32). If I think of great contemporary cities, I wonder where the doors are where the sick can be taken hoping that they will be cured! Jesus never removed himself from their cure. He never passed by, he never turned his face elsewhere. And when a father or a mother, or simply friendly persons brought him a sick person for him to touch and heal, he lost no time; healing came before the law, even the very sacred one of rest on the Sabbath (cf. Mark 3:1-6). The Doctors of the law rebuked Jesus because he healed on the Sabbath, he did good on the Sabbath. But Jesus’ love was to give health, to do good: and this is always in the first place!

Jesus sends his disciples to carry out his own work and he gives them the power to heal, namely, to come close to the sick and heal them completely (cf. Matthew 10:1). We must have well in mind what he says to the disciples in the episode of the man born blind (John 9:1-5). The disciples – with the blind man in front of them there! – argued about who had sinned, because he was born blind, he or his parents, to cause his blindness. The Lord says clearly: neither he nor his parents; he is thus so that God’s works are manifested in him. And he healed him. See God’s glory! See the task of the Church! To help the sick, not to get lost in chatter, but to help always, to console, to relieve, to be close to the sick; this is the task.

The Church invites to continuous prayer for her dear ones stricken by sickness. Prayer for the sick must never be lacking. In fact, we should pray more, be it personally, be it in community. We think of the evangelical episode of the Canaanite woman (cf. Matthew 15:21-28). She is a pagan woman, she is not of the people of Israel, but a pagan who begs Jesus to heal her daughter. To put her faith to the test, Jesus first answered her harshly: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” The woman did not give up – when a mother asks help for her child, she never gives up. We all know that mothers fight for their children – and she answers: “even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table!” as if to say: “At least treat me like a dog!” Then Jesus says to her: “O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire” (v. 28).

In face of sickness, also in families difficulties arise because of human weakness. However, in general, the time of sickness makes the strength of family bonds grow. And I think of how important it is to educate children as little ones to solidarity in the time of sickness. An education that lacks sensitivity for human sickness hardens the heart. And it makes youngsters “anesthetized” to others’ suffering, incapable of confronting suffering and of living the experience of limitation. How many times we see a man, a woman arrive at work with a tired face, with a tired attitude and when they are asked “”What is wrong?” they answer: “I slept only two hours because we take turns to be close to the baby, the sick one, the grandfather, the grandmother.” And the day continues with work. These things are heroic; they are the heroism of families! -- those hidden heroisms that are done with tenderness and courage when someone is sick at home.

The weakness and suffering of our dearest and most sacred loved ones can be for our children and our grandchildren a school of life – it is important to educate children and grandchildren to understand this closeness in sickness in the family – and they become so when in moments of sickness they are accompanied by prayer and the affectionate and solicitous closeness of relatives. The Christian community knows well that, in the trial of sickness, the family is not left alone. And we must say thank you to the Lord for those beautiful experiences of ecclesial fraternity that help families to go through the difficult moments of pain and suffering. This Christian closeness, of family to family, is a real treasure for the parish -- a treasure of wisdom that helps families in difficult moments and makes the Kingdom of God understood better than many discourses! They are caresses of God.

CORPUS CHRISTI

We share a few snaps from our various Masses on one of the great feasts of the church.

Fr Cyriacus celebrated the 9.00am Mass in the Cathedral, and led a modest procession through the church. Thanks to Fr Phillip for his quick thinking in taking a few snaps from the choir loft.

The 10am Mass at St. Joseph's was celebrated by Fr Johnson, and was very well attended. We had the pleasure of being led in procession by the Brothers of the Blessed Sacrament, as well as a choir leading us in the singing of traditional Portuguese hymns. 

Just before Mass we noticed a single block of charcoal! Not to be defeated, the servers snapped some bark of the nearby trees, burnt it, and had more than enough charcoal! 

Pictured below is Fr Johnson with the Brothers of the Blessed Sacrament, as well as the servers' effort.

Unfortunately, Eskom (the national electricity supplier, once again attended Mass in the Cathedral and the 6.00pm Mass was by candlelight.

REFLECTION FOR CORPUS CHRISTI

“Take and eat…take and drink…this is my Body…this is my Blood…do this in memory of me.” With these words, Jesus establishes the sacrifice of the New Covenant written in his Blood. In the Jewish Temple, there were two main kinds of animal sacrifice; the holocaust and the communion sacrifice. In the first, an offering for very serious sin, the entire animal sacrifice was burned as an offering to God for sin. The immolated animal died in place of the sinner, for to a Jew, all sin is an offence against God, deserving of death.

The Jewish Passover, from which comes the holy sacrifice of the Mass, is a communion sacrifice. The animal was killed by being bled to death, and the collected blood poured out at the base of the altar. Life was in the blood, and life belongs to God alone, for only he can give it. Of the rest of the sacrifice, a portion went to the priests for their support. The bulk of the sacrificed animal was returned to the offerer, who then held a communion meal, to which many were invited. In eating of the consecrated animal, they believed, they were somehow reaping all the blessings poured out by God through the offering. This explains why communion is so closely linked to sacrifice, and what the relationship between Jesus’ death and the Last Supper is. The new rite simply replaces the old. Or does it?

When Jesus tells his hearers, in John 6, that, “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood shall not perish, and I will raise him up on the last day” his words are a double shock. First, eating Jesus’ flesh sounds like cannibalism, already a horror for the Jews. But next to drinking his blood, eating Jesus’ flesh pales in comparison. For not only is this the offence of blasphemy, but if Jesus really who he says he is, it is a blasphemy beyond telling; human beings drinking the blood of God’s Son, that is, consuming the divine, eternal life of God himself!

But this is exactly what Jesus does mean! He wants us to live in all eternity with him. For this to happen, we must receive his divine life. And one of the most important paths to this is through Holy Communion. Jesus focuses it into the bloodless sacrifice of the altar, where bread and wine become in reality, if not in appearance, his Body and Blood. In South African-speak, the Body and Blood of Jesus is the padkos of our journey to eternal life. And by consuming Holy Communion we, like the Jews of old, are being, literally, filled with all the graces and blessings that flowed from the cross at Calvary.

If we co-operate with God’s grace within us, we will be transformed, made ready and fit to live with him for ever. Holy Communion, as its name implies, is the one of the closest ways in which we come to a direct encounter with the living Jesus, who tells us, “Take and eat…take and drink…this is my Body…this is my Blood…do this in memory of me.” But it is up to us to allow the Lord Jesus to transform us from within by co-operating. Only we can do this. And if we do, what a world awaits us in eternity!

Fr Phillip