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Posted on 04/11/2015 8:38:49 PM PDT by Salvation
Thanks for all the paintings. Can you tell which one is the original commissioned by St. Faustina?
2nd Sunday of Easter or Sunday of Divine Mercy
These are written that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Christ. (John 20:31)
The Gospel writers were wonderful theologians. They told us so many powerful stories about Jesus, like the feeding of the five thousand and the raising of Lazarus from the dead. As they told these stories, they sought to convey deep theological realities like the Incarnation and the concept of being born from above through Baptism. All of these miracle stories and the teachings behind them are so simple that a child can make sense of them, but they are also so profound that we will never be able to plumb their depths.
In today’s story about Thomas, John is telling us that the life of faith can be like a roller coaster—even for those who lived with Jesus and knew him personally. At first, the apostles didn’t accept the testimony of the women about the empty tomb. Forgetting Jesus’ promise that he would rise, Mary Magdalene thought that someone had stolen his body. The disciples on the road to Emmaus proved themselves slow to believe the Scriptures. And Thomas refused to believe unless he could see.
So here’s the lesson: even though our faith goes up and down, Jesus remains with us. He always extends his hand to us. He is always ready to draw us back to himself. He blesses those who do not see but still believe. We are the multitudes who love Jesus, believe in him, and rejoice with him (1 Peter 1:8).
One way to smooth out the ups and downs of our faith is to let the word of God—whether it be the story of Thomas or some other scriptural story—dwell in us richly (Colossians 3:16). When you read and meditate on the Bible, you discover that the written word of God opens your heart to Jesus, the living Word of God. It inspires you, and it forms you. Over time, you become what you read as what you read fills you with faith that Jesus is the Messiah.
“Lord, open my ears to your word. Open my eyes to your glory.”
Acts 4:32-35; Psalm 118:2-4, 13-15, 22-24; 1 John 5:1-6
Mass Readings: Acts 4:32-35; Psalm 118:2-4, 13-15, 22-24 ; 1 John 5:1-6; John 20:19-31
1. The first reading says that the first community of believers "was of one heart and mind" and “great favor was accorded them all.” What can you do to promote a greater sense of community and unity in your family? In your parish? With other Christians?
2. The first reading also says that as a sign of how much they loved one another, the first communities cared for the "needy person among them." What steps can you take to serve the needy in your parish and in your community? Keep in mind their needs are not just physical (food and shelter), but spiritual as well (experiencing Jesus’ love through you). What additional steps can you take to help them come to know Christ as their risen Lord?
3. The responsorial psalm ends with “This is the day the Lord has made, let us be glad and rejoice in it.” The psalmist also gives some reasons why he is rejoicing. During this Easter Season of grace, what are some of the things that you are rejoicing in?
4. In the second reading, we hear these words, “Everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ is begotten by God.” Do you believe that you are a beloved child of God the Father through your faith in Jesus Christ? Were there any times in your life that Jesus has revealed his great love to you as well. What impact did it have?
5. The Gospel tells us we are not alone or without help in the Christian life we have embraced. In the Gospel, Jesus’ breathes on the disciples and they receive the Holy Spirit. As baptized and confirmed Catholics, we too have received the Holy Spirit. How would you describe the work of the Holy Spirit in your life? What are some steps you can take to be even more open to the Holy Spirit's work? What are some ways you can remind your family and others of this wonderful gift of the Spirit?
6. The meditation ends with these words: “When you read and meditate on the Bible, you discover that the written word of God opens your heart to Jesus, the living Word of God. It inspires you, and it forms you. Over time, you become what you read as what you read fills you with faith that Jesus is the Messiah.” What role has the written word of God, the Bible, played in inspiring and forming you, and filling you with faith in the living word of God, Jesus? Is there room for it playing an even greater role? How?
7. Take some time now to pray for a greater openness to the Lord’s divine word and his divine mercy. Use the prayer at the end of the meditation as the starting point.
MY LORD AND MY GOD!
(A biblical refection on THE SECOND SUNDAY OF EASTER – April 12, 2015)
[Sunday of Divine Mercy]
Gospel Reading: John 20:19-31
First Reading: Acts 4:32-35; Psalms: Psalm 118:2-4,16-18,22-24; Second Reading: 1John 5:1-6
The Scripture Text
On the evening of that day, the first day of the week, the doors being shut where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” When He had said this, He showed them His hands and His side. Then the disciples were glad when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, even so I send you.” And when He had said this, He breathed on them, and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any they are retained.”
Now Thomas, one of the twelve, called the Twin, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But He said to them, “Unless I see in His hands the print of the nails, and place my finger in the mark of the nails, and place my hand in His side, I will not believe.”
Eight days later, His disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. The doors were shut, but Jesus came and stood among them, and said, “Peace be with you.” Then He said to Thomas, “Put your finger here, and see My hands; and put out your hand, and place it in My side; do not be faithless, but believing.” Thomas answered Him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen Me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe.”
Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in His name. (John 20:19-31 RSV)
Today’s Gospel reading contains what scripture scholar Bruce Vawter calls “the most complete affirmation of Christ’s nature to be found on the lips of anyone in the Gospel.” This precious affirmation is uttered by the apostle Thomas, who ironically is more remembered for his doubts than his faith. He never deserved the title of “doubting Thomas”, which has shadowed him through the ages. He should be known as “courageous Thomas”, with the uncanny habit of speaking clearly his opposing views, regardless of the pressures to agree or remain silent.
His calm heroic strength is completely ignored by the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke). John only highlights a few incidents where Thomas’ inward bravery shines forth. In John 11:16, when Christ’s life is feared to be in jeopardy, Thomas exhorts the others, “let us go along and die with Him.” In John 14:5, Jesus is telling the Twelve about eternal life and adds parenthetically, “You know the way that leads where I go.” In reality they didn’t know what Jesus meant and, lest they appear stupid, no one asked except Thomas. He broke into the Lord’s dialogue with the query, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, how can we know the way?” Had he remained silent like the rest, we never would have heard the great summary of the Lord’s mission. “I am the way, the truth and the life” (John 14:6). Thanks, Thomas. We needed to hear that.
Today, John says the apostles are huddled in the upper room, hiding behind locked doors for fear of their enemies, finding courage and protection in numbers. Strange, isn’t it, that Thomas isn’t with them? Did he need the security of numbers and bolted doors? Apparently not. He was somewhere on the outside, all on his own. He was just that kind of guy.
Lord Jesus makes His unscheduled visit, and the apostles are hysterical with sheer joy. When Thomas returns they shout in unison: “We’ve seen the Lord” (John 20:25). Thomas calmly seems unimpressed and simply says that he wants to see the wounds before he shares their ecstacy. When Jesus invited him a week later to see and touch the convincing wounds, he offered no apologies and did not try to “explain” his need for further proof. He saw no need for any mental squirming. The truth was now present and typically he said what he felt: “My Lord and my God”. That’s the great statement that should be remembered rather that his previous lingering doubts.
Thomas encourages us to think, probe and question. Our faith must be real and sensible to us. If it is not, we have a good example for direct and vocal inquiry. To just sit back and nod our heads in agreement to confusing presentations is being very “unthomistic”.
Dear Sisters and Brothers, let us try to catch the contagious spirit of the faith-filled apostle Thomas. We (you and I), like millions of others, might want to whisper his famous words at the elevation of the living bread, during the celebration of today’s Mass.
Short Prayer: Lord Jesus, we long to see Your face. Heal our unbelief, so that we can bow before You and proclaim, “My Lord and My God”. Amen.
Daily Marriage Tip for April 12, 2015:
The peace Jesus promises us often comes through forgiving your spouse when he or she hurts you. Is there something you’re finding hard to forgive? Take it to Jesus in prayer, and ask for His peace.
April 12, 2015
Opening Prayer
First Reading:
Acts 4:32-35Psalm:
118:2-4, 13-15, 22-24Second Reading: 1 John 5:1-6
Gospel Reading: John 20:19-31
QUESTIONS:
Catechism of the Catholic Church: §§ 643—645, 1087, 1441, 730, 976, 1287, 1461 The disbelief of Thomas has done more for our faith than the faith of the other disciples. As he touches Christ and is won over to belief, every doubt is cast aside and our faith is strengthened. ~St. Gregory the Great
Am I A Person of Mercy?
Pastor’s Column
Mercy Sunday, 2016
Pope Francis will be announcing an extraordinary jubilee Year of Mercy on the eve of Mercy Sunday of this year. What a great opportunity to reflect on the mercy of God and to strive to show greater mercy in our own lives! The Lord is both perfect justice and perfect mercy. What this means is that because we have been given free will (until the end of our lives), we have the ability to choose whether or not we want the mercy of God (forgiveness and heaven) or to reject God by living a merciless life toward others. At the end of our lives, God will give back to us what we chose by our own acts of mercy.
Merciful behaviors are usually small things: giving people the benefit of the doubt in a misunderstanding; holding one’s tongue; being kind when we feel like taking revenge; praying for someone who has hurt us; and not rushing to respond in kind when confronted by evil; continuing to do good for someone in our lives who either is ungrateful or no longer deserves it. This is precisely what Christ did when he was dying on the cross!
Am I a merciless person or a person or mercy? We have all had moments like this, perhaps receiving merciless behavior or maybe dishing it out. What does Christ expect of us when we are deeply offended by someone or have a need to forgive? He doesn't ask us to like the person who offended us. He doesn't ask us to even be happy to see them! Jesus isn't asking us to be best friends with our enemies either.
There are three things we must do to forgive someone:
1. We must pray for that person on a regular basis;
2. We must avoid talking badly about them, spreading slander or calumny or detraction (this is the hardest one);
3. We must be kind to them when we see them.
Jesus had many dislikes: he disliked some of the Pharisees (who returned this by spitting on him as he was dying); he didn't like the moneychangers in the temple, either. But you know what? He still loved them by dying for them and praying for the Father to forgive them! And this is an insight as to why we are required to go though these tests: whenever we succeed in forgiveness, (and sometimes this is the most difficult thing we are ever asked to do), we become more like God. And since we will one day be in line before God to be forgiven ourselves, this is a lesson we must learn: “Blessed are the merciful: mercy will be shown to them.” (Mt 5:7)
Father Gary
Posted by Dr. Scott Hahn on 04.10.15 |
Readings:
Acts 4:32-35
Psalms 118:2-4, 13-15, 22-24
1 John 5:1-6
John 20:19-31
Three times in today’s Psalm we cry out a victory shout: “His mercy endures forever.”
Truly we’ve known the everlasting love of God, who has come to us as our Savior. By the blood and water that flowed from Jesus’ pierced side (see John 19:34), we’ve been made God’s children, as we hear in today’s Epistle.
Yet we never met Jesus, never heard Him teach, never saw Him raised from the dead. His saving Word came to us in the Church - through the ministry of the apostles, who in today’s Gospel are sent as He was sent.
He was made a life-giving Spirit (see 1 Corinthians 15:45) and He filled His apostles with that Spirit. As we hear in today’s First Reading, they bore witness to His resurrection with great power. And through their witness, handed down in the Church through the centuries, their teaching and traditions have reached us (see Acts 2:42).
We encounter Him as the apostles did - in the breaking of the bread on the Lord’s day (see Acts 20:7; 1 Corinthians 16:2; Revelation 1:10).
There is something liturgical about the way today’s Gospel scenes unfold. It’s as if John is trying to show us how the risen Lord comes to us in the liturgy and sacraments.
In both scenes it is Sunday night. The doors are bolted tight, yet Jesus mysteriously comes. He greets them with an expression, “Peace be with you,” used elsewhere by divine messengers (see Daniel 10:19; Judges 6:23). He shows them signs of His real bodily presence. And on both nights the disciples respond by joyfully receiving Jesus as their “Lord.”
Isn’t this what happens in the Mass - where our Lord speaks to us in His Word, and gives himself to us in the sacrament of His body and blood?
Let us approach the altar with joy, knowing that every Eucharist is the day the Lord has made - when the victory of Easter is again made wonderful in our eyes.
Posted by St. Paul Center on 04.10.15 |
By +Father Ray Ryland, Ph.D., J.D.
Pope John Paul the Great gave us Divine Mercy Sunday.
Over a period of thirty-five years, from the time when he was archbishop of Krakow, John Paul actively forwarded the process of canonizing Sister Faustina.
On April 30, 2000, the first Sunday after Easter, John Paul canonized Sister Faustina—now Saint Faustina. In his homily of canonization, John Paul joyfully announced that the first Sunday after Easter “from now on throughout the Church will be called ‘Divine Mercy Sunday.’”
Throughout Scripture and our liturgy we hear about divine mercy; so often, in fact, that we may be tempted to take it for granted. That would be a grievous error. Think with me for a few moments about divine mercy.
Hundreds of times and in many ways throughout Sacred Scripture, the text exults in the mercy of God. We read, for example, that the mercy of God is “great” (1 Kings 3:6); “plenteous” (Ps 86:5); “tender” (Lk 1:78) “abundant” (1 Pet 1:3); it is “from everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear him” (Ps 103:17).
In the legal form, mercy is the opposite of justice. Justice is what a person deserves. Mercy is what a guilty person needs.
In His mercy, God reveals that love always trumps justice. Indeed, in his encyclical Rich in Mercy, Pope John Paul II declared that mercy is “love’s second name.”
So far as our individual relationships with God are concerned, mercy is God’s greatest attribute and perfection. Because human history is a history of sin and death, God’s love has to be revealed and made real in human lives primarily as mercy.
Rich in Mercy
In his book The Devil’s Dictionary, a humorist of last century defined mercy as “an attribute beloved of detected offenders.” Though the man was speaking cynically, he was also speaking the truth. All of us are offenders against God, and all of us have been detected.
So the “true and proper meaning of mercy,” Pope John Paul told us, is God’s love drawing “good from all the forms of evil existing in the world and in man.” We have to say, therefore, that mercy is (in John Paul’s words), “the fundamental content of the messianic message of Christ. . . .” It is, in fact, the basic power of His mission on earth (Rich in Mercy, no. 6).
To bring the meaning of mercy into ultimate focus, we must say that Jesus Christ incarnates mercy; indeed, Jesus Christ is mercy (Rich in Mercy, no. 2).
Our salvation hinges on trusting in God’s mercy. But remember: Mercy means pardon for guilt. Pardon for our guilt can come, by God’s mercy, only if (a) we face and acknowledge our guilt under God, and (b) we are truly sorry for having offended God.
God will not, God cannot, fill with His mercy the life of one who is not truly penitent. Jesus made this clear with His parable of the prayers of the Pharisee and the tax collector. Recall that the Pharisee congratulated God and himself on his own good character. In sharp contrast, the tax collector simply groaned, “God, be merciful to me a sinner!” Jesus said that only the tax collector was reconciled to God.
A Lost Sense of Sin
When we think about God’s mercy, therefore, we have to ask ourselves about our own sense of sin. And that’s our second point.
Start with the fact that our culture has lost any real sense of sin. In all of human history, there apparently has never been a society that so widely ignored—or even widely denied—the reality of sin as our culture.
We read in the Old Testament that even pagan rulers like Nebuchadnezzar or the king of Nineveh acknowledged their sins and repented of them. In every primitive society of which we have any information, one always finds a sense of sin, even though pagan beliefs about their gods may be highly superstitious.
Back in the 1940s, in a radio address to an American catechetical conference, Pope Pius XII stated that “the sin of the century is the loss of sin.” In the later 1950s, he declared that the most serious spiritual problem of Catholics is the loss of a sense of sin. Pope John Paul also strongly emphasized the same fact.
That we Catholics have largely lost a proper sense of sin is quite clear, for two reasons: Only a very small percentage of otherwise practicing Catholics regularly choose to receive the Sacrament of Penance. Furthermore, many—should I say most?—Catholics who do go to Confession seem to find it hard to be specific in their confessions.
The fact is, our consciences have become calloused. Our consciences have been calloused by the moral and doctrinal confusion created by dissenters, unfaithful Catholics who reject the Church’s authority. Our consciences are continually being calloused by the moral filth that flows from the media: from our TVs, from our movies, from the books and magazines we read, from the newspapers. In 1982 Pope John Paul warned us that “modern man is threatened by an eclipse of conscience . . . a deformation of conscience . . . a numbness or ‘deadening’ of conscience” (Reconciliation and Penance, no. 18).
Not Just for Mortal Sins
The common Catholic rationalization for not going to Confession—if people bother to rationalize—is usually, “well, I don’t have any mortal sins to confess.”
Let me remind you that the Sacrament of Penance was given by our Lord Jesus Christ not only for mortal sins, but also for venial sins. Let me remind you further of our Catechism’s listing of the very harmful effects of venial sin.
Venial sin weakens charity; it manifests a disordered affection for created goods; it impedes the soul’s progress in the exercise of the virtues and the practice of the moral good; it merits temporal punishment. Deliberate and unrepented venial sin disposes us little by little to commit mortal sin. (no. 1863)
How dare we take venial sins lightly?
Ponder carefully what Pope John Paul the Great taught us in apostolic exhortation entitled Reconciliation and Penance.
As a rupture with God, sin is an act of disobedience by a creature who rejects, at least implicitly, the very one from whom he came and who sustains him in life. It is therefore a suicidal act” (emphasis added). And why is that? Because by refusing “to submit to God, . . . [the sinner’s] internal balance is also destroyed” and “contradictions and conflicts arise” within himself.
In the next section of the exhortation, the Holy Father becomes more specific in his teaching. “By virtue of human solidarity which is as mysterious and intangible as it is real and concrete, each individual’s sin in some way affects others.” That is, “one can speak of a communion of sin, whereby a soul that lowers itself through sin drags down with itself the church and, in some way, the whole world.”
This, said the Holy Father, is the bedrock fact: “. . . there is no sin, not even the most intimate and secret one, the most strictly individual one, that exclusively concerns the person committing it. With greater or lesser violence, with greater or lesser harm, every sin has repercussions on the entire ecclesial body and the whole human family” (no. 16; emphasis added).
Loving Jesus
So if we want the mercy of God to flood our hearts—and who of us does not?—we have to work at deepening our sense of our own sin.
Consider the lives of the saints, who made such frequent use of the Sacrament of Penance. We regard their lives as exemplary. We wonder, what did they have to confess? Yet the fact is, they were all keenly conscious of a heavy weight of sin.
Why did the saints have such deep consciousness of sin? It was a reflection of their deep love for Jesus. The more intimately they knew and loved Him, the more painfully conscious they were of the ways in which they offended Him.
The point for us is, the deeper our love for Jesus, the more we will be aware of our sins and the greater will be our sorrow for the suffering our sins have inflicted on Jesus. And turn the proposition around. If we have slight sense of our own sinfulness, what does this tell us about the quality of our relationship with Jesus?
If we truly yearn to grow in sanctity—and that’s our whole reason for living—we need to go to Confession frequently. When we go to Confession frequently, we can make a more thorough confession, and thereby more deeply receive the mercy of God.
And I mean specific confession: none of this confession by title: “I was uncharitable” or “I was critical” or “I was unforgiving.” Be specific: call a spade a spade, or even call it a dirty old shovel. When you confess specific sins, you get them out in front of you and see them in all their ugliness: and you say to yourself, “And Jesus suffered agony for this!”
You and I need to make frequent aspirations in the course of a day. We need to call on the holy name of Jesus, or on the Blessed Trinity. We need to recall ourselves into the presence of the Blessed Trinity. We need to try consciously to carry out our responsibilities in such a way as to give honor and glory to God. We need to be nourished by regularly reading the Scriptures—especially the Gospels—and by doing spiritual reading.
Until we draw our last breath, we have to work at growing in our love for our Lord Jesus, growing in our basic desire to please Him in word and thought and deed.
When a sudden heart attack occurs, how thankful we are if someone present has been trained to practice CPR. That means someone who can keep blood carrying oxygen to the heart and brain of a person until that person’s heart begins to beat again.
Divine Mercy Sunday tells us about spiritual CPR which Our Lord entrusted to His Church. He gave to His bishops and priests the Sacrament of Penance, the authority to act in His name and forgive sins. This sacrament is spiritually life-giving.
Jesus gave us this sacrament not as a simple option, but as something He wants us to use.
When we ignore this sacrament, we ignore Jesus’ command given for our spiritual welfare. And when we ignore His command, we ignore Him.
God forbid that any of us should ever do that!
Father Ray Ryland was a priest of the Diocese of Steubenville and a spiritual director to many Catholic apostolates. His memoir, Drawn From Shadows into Truth, is available through Emmaus Road Publishing.
The Word for Sunday: http://usccb.org/bible/readings/041215.cfm
If one were to assume that the Christian community considered in our first reading this Divine Mercy Sunday was a typical description of present day parish life, I would beg to differ. Is the community life described in which “believers were of one heart and one mind, and no one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they had everything in common” the way it was or perhaps an idealized hope?
However, at the risk of portraying parish and Christian life in general as somehow far from the ideal, in truth our present day community of believers is indeed generous and kind, faith-filled and committed, compassionate and welcoming. We do feed the hungry and care for those who are sick. We do educate and form Christian consciences. We do worship the Lord as one and show reverence for our sacramental and prayer life. Yet, we do all of this as fragile, doubting, liberal, conservative, traditional, young, old, middle aged, rich, poor, middle class, highly educated, professional and average. As extraverts, introverts, as teachers, musicians, health care workers, counselors, therapists, “blue collar” and “white collar” workers or a combination of both, as male, female, black, white, brown, yellow, thus bringing both “Jew and Gentile” together. You get the point. Somehow, though, it all really does work.
The idyllic description of the early Christian community no doubt is rooted in true experience but we know well that unity and uniformity are two different things. Normal divisions and differences of opinion should never be tolerated but gently challenged and healed. If that is so, what does keep us united as One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic? Our faith in the risen Lord Jesus. But is only believing enough? The resurrection stories are not scientific analysis or an explanation of how there may be extraordinary exceptions to the measureable laws of nature.
Our Gospel story, heard every year on this Sunday after Easter, is a powerful reminder that faith which demands proof as it did in the case of Thomas the absent Apostle, must go beyond merely what our hands have touched. Jesus’ mercy is extended to his Apostles, hidden in fear for good reason, as he suddenly appears to them in his risen form. He says, “Peace be with you (Shalom).” He breathes on them and says “receive the Holy Spirit.” He entrusts them with the power to forgive sin in his name. This is not a Jesus resentful of their abandonment or Peter’s three time denial but the Lord who brings new life. This is mercy as only God can extend.
Yet, the absence of Thomas begs the question of the early Church, the early Christian communities no matter how peaceful they may have at first (more likely on occasion) may have been, and the ultimate question of our Easter season and our culture of technology and science today: How is it possible to believe in the risen Lord if you have not seen him? The story is simply too unnatural (dead do not come back to life) and delusional at its worst. Yet, their hope in promise kept it alive.
What did the Apostles discuss on the day after Jesus’ death? I would imagine, after the initial shock wore off, that a variety of opinions were expressed on what to do now, on who Jesus claimed his was, on the meaning of his promised resurrection, and certainly how they felt about each other: e.g. Peter and Judas in particular. But we do know that they were somewhat paralyzed by fear and confusion. They were hidden away.
In the midst of this muddle Jesus returns because their future as witnesses par excel lance,
MUST be based in the tangible encounter with the risen Lord. So, Thomas’ legendary doubt was totally understandable and excusable. Unless I touch him I will not believe. Can you hear Thomas saying in essence, “I really want to believe this but how can I unless I see as you did?”
Once again, Jesus returns and shows Thomas what he needs, the wounds of his suffering and passion. In a beautiful moment of recognition, while Thomas thought he needed to see it all, simply the Lord’s appearance before him, moves Thomas to proclaim the truth of our faith: “My Lord and my God.” Did Thomas touch Jesus wounds in his hands and side? We assume he did but the Gospel does not indicate that. Jesus invited him to do so but did he? I personally feel he was so overwhelmed he may have not because seeing Jesus became enough proof. Either way, Thomas could not deny who he saw and heard now before him. And that brings us to today.
The occasion is a lesson in the true meaning of faith – how the early Christians and consequently all of us since have come to believe. “Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed,” Jesus states. That is faith. So we are either crazy, delusional fools, seduced by twenty centuries of history and tradition, living on unfounded and meaningless hope or we are followers of Jesus the risen Lord who comes to us in his Word and Sacrament every day and in particular every time we gather with our perfect and less than perfect brothers and sisters to say, “I believe in one God . . .”
We see him in the faith of each other, we touch him through generous compassion, we hear him in sacraments of healing and merciful forgiveness, we taste him in the Holy Eucharist, we are made one with him in vocations of selfless love and service, we sense him in prayer and worship.
What more proof do we need?
God of everlasting mercy
who in the very recurrence of the paschal feast
kindle the faith of the people you have made your own,
increase, we pray, the grace you have bestowed,
that all may grasp and rightly understand
to what font they have been reborn,
by whose Blood they have been redeemed.
(Collect: Roman Missal)
"Communion of the Apostles" (1451-52) by Fra Angelico [WikiArt.org]
Faith, Love, and Obedience: Marks of the True Disciple | Carl E. Olson | On the Readings for April 12, 2015, Second Sunday of Easter and Sunday of Divine Mercy
Readings:
• Acts 4:32-35
• Ps 118:2-4, 13-15, 22-24
• 1 Jn 5:1-6
• Jn 20:19-31
What is love without faith and commitment? A lie.
And it’s a popular lie, one sprouting wildly from the thin soil of undisciplined passions, feeding on the fast food of popular culture, which so often presents love as a matter of emotions and circumstances. These feelings are gauged on a scale of faux authenticity, with the highest order of love being that representing one’s selfish choice to be “true to himself.”
For example, a famous music star explained to Oprah a few years ago that he had to leave his first wife and marry his second wife because he couldn’t live "a lie". What he meant, as he explained further, was that because he was “in love” with the second woman, so it couldn’t be right to be stuck in his first marriage.
The same approach is taken by many Catholics when it comes to certain Church teachings, most having to do with sexual morality, marriage, or life issues. “I love being Catholic,” seems to be their unspoken approach, “but I’m not always so keen on living or loving what the Church teaches.” For some people, being a Catholic is a birthright, not a call to discipleship; it becomes a matter of status, not one of taking a stand.
Today’s Gospel and Epistle were both written by St. John, the disciple “whom Jesus loved” (Jn 13:23), the lone apostle at the Crucifixion (Jn 19:25-27) who decades later spent his final years exiled on the rocky island of Patmos (Rev. 1:9). Both readings make the vital connection between faith, love, and obedience. Together, they show that the true disciple of Jesus is faithful and obedient because of his love for the Lord, while his love for Christ is rooted in a humble gratitude for the mercy and grace granted by the Holy Spirit.
Words alone do not demonstrate one’s love for God: “In this way we know that we love the children of God when we love God and obey his commandments.” The strength and ability to obey the commandments of God come from the Holy Spirit and the gift of faith. Yes, we must accept it. And, yes, we must put it into practice. But all is grace, even while our freely chosen actions increase or corrode that divine gift.
The gift of divine sonship is ours through Jesus Christ and “through water and blood,” that is, through baptism and the sacrificial death on the Cross. Just as the Spirit moved over the face of the waters before creation (Gen 1:2), he moves over the waters of baptism, from which emerge the face of a new creation in Christ (cf. 2 Cor 5:17).
“The Son of God came not by water only, in order to cleanse us from our sins,” wrote St. Bede, “but also with the blood of his passion, by which he consecrates the sacrament of our baptism, giving his blood for us, redeeming us by his suffering and nourishing us with his sacraments so that we might be made fit for salvation.”
We are begotten by God through baptism, and we are nourished, as children of God, by the Eucharistic sacrifice. And all of this happens within the mystery of the Church, which “received the faith from the apostles and their disciples” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 173). As today’s Gospel reading reminds us, the Church is apostolic not because the apostles were perfect, but because they believed, they were chosen, they were ordained, and they were granted authority by the risen Lord.
Further, the founding and growth of the Church and the Kingdom are “symbolized by the blood and water which flowed from the open side of a crucified Jesus …” (Lumen Gentium, 3). Jesus loved the Church so much, he died for her; the New Adam loved his Bride so much, he died to bring her to life. Because when it comes to love, faith, and commitment, we are never asked to do something our Savior hasn’t already done perfectly—for us.
(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the April 19, 2009, edition of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)
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April 12, 2015. Second Sunday of Easter
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John 20:19-31 On the evening of that first day of the week, when the doors were locked, where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in their midst and said to them, "Peace be with you." When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side. The disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, "Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you." And when he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, "Receive the holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained." Thomas, called Didymus, one of the Twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples said to him, "We have seen the Lord." But he said to them, "Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nail marks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe." Now a week later his disciples were again inside and Thomas was with them. Jesus came, although the doors were locked, and stood in their midst and said, "Peace be with you." Then he said to Thomas, "Put your finger here and see my hands, and bring your hand and put it into my side, and do not be unbelieving, but believe." Thomas answered and said to him, "My Lord and my God!" Jesus said to him, "Have you come to believe because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed." Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples that are not written in this book. But these are written that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that through this belief you may have life in his name. Introductory Prayer: Lord Jesus, I believe in your grace and your love for me. This is why I come before you now. I know that through this meditation I can experience your love and be filled with your grace, so that I might fulfill my role in your plan of salvation. You know that I am weak and am sometimes tempted to lose heart. But I know I can count on your generous graces to bolster my courage and love. For my part, I will strive to spend this time with you well. Petition: Jesus Christ, let me know your heart. 1. Touch His Heart: In this passage, Christ puts himself within touching distance of Thomas’ finger and hand. He invites this apostle, struggling with doubt, to reach into his side and come into contact with that Sacred Heart, filled to the brim with mercy. Not only could there no longer be any doubt about the Savior’s resurrected body, there also could no longer be any doubt about his mercy which he promised in the forgiveness of sins. With Thomas, then, let us come within touching distance of this heart of Christ and peer through his open side to see the heart that so loves all souls. 2. Allowing Him Touch My Heart: Not only do we want to touch Christ’s heart, we also want to invite the Lord to touch our hearts. Just like the lepers who presented their disfigured flesh for Christ to touch and cure, so we present our disfigured souls, asking him to touch and to cure. St. Faustina would say that all that is necessary is for us to leave the door of our heart ajar and God will do the rest. Let us present to his “sacred finger” what in us needs to be touched by his grace, especially through the sacrament of reconciliation. 3. Thirsting for All Hearts: In Christ, the greatest thirsting love is too often met by the most outrageous ingratitude and affront on the part of souls. The Sacred Heart made mention of this in the pangs of his heart voiced to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque. He explained to her that his sharpest pain was due to people’s ingratitude. Let us endeavor to bring his thirsting heart into contact with souls, though our prayers, sacrifices and apostolic efforts. Conversation with Christ: Lord Jesus, thank you for the example of love and mercy you give us through your appearance to the disciples and your kindness to St. Thomas. May my heart always be full of gratitude and remain close to your loving, merciful touch. Resolution: I will pray that someone I know may experience God’s mercy in the sacrament of confession. If possible, I will help someone directly to make this happen. |
April 12, 2015
Second Sunday of Easter
Sunday of Divine Mercy
First Reading: Acts 4:32-35
http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/041215.cfm
There’s a difference between a soloist and an orchestra. The solo musician stands before the audience and shows off his talents all on his own with no help. But the orchestra is full of musicians, many of whom even play the same part on the same instrument. These musicians must cooperate with one another in order to make beautiful, polyphonic music that would be impossible for one person to generate no matter how skilled. This Sunday’s first reading from the Book of Acts reminds us that the Christian life is not a solo project.
The early Christian community at Jerusalem is described in Acts 4:32 as being of “one heart and one mind.” They not only went to a weekly church service together, but they loved each other in very practical, yes, financial, ways. Their unity with one another was not merely an external set of practices, but flowed from within. They were truly united in Christ with one another and out of that spiritual unity they formed a practical community. Their love for one another had real consequences in their daily life. They really lived out Jesus’ command of evangelical poverty: “Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money; and do not have two tunics” (Luke 9:3 RSV).
It might seem that the rich Christians were foolish and the poor ones were shrewd, the poor ones duping the rich ones into sharing their bounty freely. Yet Jesus emphasizes how whatever we give up to enter the kingdom of God will be repaid to us many times over:
Truly, I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands, for my sake and for the gospel, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this time, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and in the age to come eternal life (Mark 10:29-30 RSV).
It would be easy to over-interpret this and say that the gospel is a great way to pump up your net worth, but that’s not what Jesus is saying. He’s showing us that in the gospel, in the Christian community, everyone counts as family. We receive new brothers and sisters and rely on each other, sharing hospitably and generously with one another. This reciprocal sharing makes it as if we owned thousands of houses and lands. The early Christians share the blessing of generosity rather intensely in Acts, modeling for us what it can be like.
The Christians in Acts 4 sell their goods and put the money at the disposal of the apostles for the welfare of the entire community. That is a radical act of trust in God, not an after-the-fact handful of change in the collection plate. To our ears, it sounds like an early form of communism or some other radical political ideology. Two considerations can help us here.
First, the early Christian community at Jerusalem was under constant threat of persecution. Many of the early Christian leaders there were martyred. It is very likely that many of the first Christians began to be excluded economically from the wider Jerusalem community because of their new faith and that many formerly solvent households were on the brink of bankruptcy. Even wealthy Christians would have been under threat. Desperate times call for desperate measures and the early Christians trust one another to be good stewards of the common purse.
Second, under these circumstances, the Apostles are entrusted with both a spiritual and temporal leadership role. They not only preach the gospel, but also oversee the distribution of financial assistance to the less fortunate members of the community. The Church here forms a social safety net in an era when Social Security, life insurance, Medicare, and welfare programs did not exist.
During this time of harmony in the Christian community at Jerusalem, the apostles bear witness to the resurrection of Jesus. They publicly proclaim him risen from the dead and tell the message of his life. Their consistent witnessing wins them some popularity even in the midst of a tense environment. The whole community offers support to their word by the witness of their love. When Christians love one another, serve one another and honor one another, the world takes notice. When Jesus taught the disciples, he insisted on no less than this:
A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; even as I have loved you, that you also love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another (John 13:34-35 RSV).
The early Christians live out this commandment of love and demonstrate this love with their pocketbooks.
Building on this idea, St. Paul likened the unity of Christians with one another to the unity of the parts of the human body. He teaches that though we have different roles, God wants “that there may be no discord in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together” (1Cor 12:25-26 RSV). So the Christians shared their money, shared their lives, but also shared suffering, and shared honor.
An orchestra or choir of wannabe soloists sounds awful. Nobody wants to hear selfish musicians trying to hog the limelight with their competition of virtuosity. In the same way, we don’t want to be soloist Christians, trying to impress others with our piety while essentially hoarding the gifts God has given us. Sharing is difficult and complicated, messy and often unequal, yet by pouring ourselves out for others generously, giving freely, showing hospitality, and offering ourselves as witnesses to the Love which brought the Son of God back from the grave, we prove ourselves true disciples. Love challenges us because it requires commitment, but an orchestra sounds much more beautiful than a lone violinist on a stage.
Moved by a desire to remind the world of God’s ever-abundant mercy, St. John Paul II declared that the first Sunday after Easter would be known throughout the Roman Church as Divine Mercy Sunday. Even though traditionalists celebrate according to the 1962 calendar, such rules also apply towards us as well. Yet in addition to calling that feast Mercy Sunday, we also continue to refer to it by its traditional name of Low Sunday or Quasimodo Sunday after the first two words of the Introit. While there is often concern of a rupture when the idea of traditionalists celebrating modern practices, that is not the case with our liturgy for Mercy Sunday. I would even go one step further and say that the propers of the Extraordinary Form for Mercy Sunday actually do a better job explaining the centrality of mercy than the Ordinary Form does.
Low Sunday was originally meant as a celebration of the new converts into the Church, who removed their baptismal garments on this day. The day served as a reminder to them and us how to conduct ourselves now that we have been given the great blessing that is the Resurrection. It is with this in mind that the Introit asks the “babes” to desire the spiritual milk without guile, and the Collect asks God’s bounty make it possible to live a life pleasing to him.
I submit to you that the milk without guile is God’s mercy, and His bounty is the infinite treasure house of mercy he wants to dispense to the world. Without that mercy, we are lost. Without that mercy, perfection would be required, and that is perfection that none of us are capable of. Think of a child who disobeys their parents. Do they judge him according to the strict letter of the law and always mete out the maximum punishment? Or do they forgive, and only punish with the aim of restoring and elevating? That is the heart of mercy, and God’s mercy is always beneficial to the soul. We always need to grow in holiness, and His mercy makes it possible.
The first way it makes it possible is by recognizing our humanity, and that the path to perfection is a slow, difficult, and often painful journey. By virtue of our baptism, we have overcome the world, so the epistle tells us. If we remain in holiness, there’s nothing the world can do to rip us from that state. While in that state of holiness, we have the testimony of the water (baptism), the blood (Calvary), and the grace of the spirit that keeps us from sin. In addition to these powerful barriers, we have the active intercession of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Against such a force there is nothing anyone can do to overcome them.
The problem is not with the world, but with us. We often desire to leave that state of our free will. We seek greater comfort, freedom of expression, security, love, a momentary dulling of pain, we sin for these reason and reasons we cannot even explain. What we know is that we are never satisfied. That desire can help us find God, but often it can lead us into a multitude of sins and mistakes.
How the world deals with these sins and how the Christian deals with these sins are often two different things. How many people have been caught up in a political or social media scandal because of their sins or stupid behavior they later regretted? While the world proclaims freedom of expression, when you make a mistake in that expression, the world savages you. How many relationships have been destroyed by photo leaks and sex tapes? How many people have gone into deep depression because of the way the world mocked and objectified their mistakes? For a world that says nobody should judge, society is the harshest executioner of all. Is it any wonder everyone is so depressed, where the slightest indiscretion can destroy not just your immediate present, but your entire future?
In the Gospel we see the sins and shortcomings of Doubting Thomas. I think Thomas gets a bad rap. He wasn’t denying Christ. He may even grant that he could have risen from the dead. But it’s not real to him because he can’t see it. He can’t see its fruit in his life. He can’t see the evidence for it. It isn’t answering the questions he had. He wants more. As a result of this, he gives a rather flippant response that unless he can touch the wounds and stick his hand in the side of Jesus (a rather macabre request), he won’t believe. A better way to say it is he doesn’t believe it will matter to him. Since his request was by all human accounts impossible, what’s he got to lose in saying it?
Isn’t that us, always wanting more? How often do we half-heartedly place absurd restrictions on Christ’s mercy? We say we will accept His mercy if there is a miracle, or we can add this or that stipulation. This doesn’t make us a bad person. Mercy and grace are scary things, because they require us to likewise be merciful and gracious, even when, and especially when, someone else doesn’t deserve it. Faced with that reality, we try to be good followers of Christ, but on our own terms. We tell God when we will believe.
The Gospel presents us with an interesting case study: what would happen if God granted our impossible request? What would we do? In the case of Doubting Thomas, the doubt melts away and he accepts not that Christ has risen from the dead, but that Christ is Lord and God. Once he does so, he’s no doubt realized his folly of negotiating with God, and why that’s such a bad thing. Christ shows mercy by forgiving him of that. He doesn’t punish Thomas for this indiscretion, but forgives him and welcomes him. When the Church is accused of lacking in mercy because we don’t display a welcoming attitude, the critics have a small point. Often we are merciful to others when we give them a list of terms and conditions they can never hope to realistically fulfill, and then use that failure to justify our lack of mercy.
So while we need to be more willing to forgive and accept someone back without needless restrictions, we also need to read the rest of the story. After Christ has forgiven Thomas for his foolishness in bargaining with God, He exhorts Thomas to something better. “Blessed are they who have not seen and yet believe.” In forgiving Thomas, he is called to leave behind his sinful ways and his pride. Christ’s mercy expects and demands a change in our lives.
I think it is this second reason that John Paul’s desire for greater mercy from the Church has not translated to reality. We do not give out mercy because we are afraid of the consequences of it. We don’t want to tell people they have to amend their ways as a result of this mercy and forgiveness. Doing that means we have to amend our ways as well. How can we tell those divorced Catholics living in a civil marriage they cannot receive communion worthily, when so many of us are not receiving worthily? How can we talk about the sanctity of marriage, when a lot of what we do in the way we live out our lives as Catholics is directly contrary to promoting that institution?
Instead of encouraging change in ourselves and others, we talk about mercy as mere forgive and forget. Once we forgive, everything is out of sight, out of mind, and don’t bother with seeing if anything has changed. I think in the end, that’s the sin of Thomas. Most of all, he wanted to be left to practice the faith on his terms. Christ instead says blessed are those who believe by faith, not by legalistic terms. That includes believing all that is required, especially the full truth about mercy: it must lead to a change in heart to be efficacious. In the case of Thomas, that change of heart was profound. He who demanded miracles be performed for him instead performed miracles. He who wanted to worship on his own terms instead abandoned his friends and family to head to the distant corners of the world preaching the story of how he came to accept God on God’s terms. That conviction and fervor led to him bestowing mercy on others, changing their lives forever.
When we speak of Divine Mercy, this is what we should be aiming for. When we want Divine Mercy to pour forth on the Earth, we aren’t just asking for forgiveness of sins, but rather the transforming of the entire world to the Heart of Jesus, starting with our own hearts of stone. This transformation is the “great joy” the Secret talks about, and let us pray that we never fail in that obligation to share it with the world.
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All Issues > Volume 31, Issue 3
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“Love one another as I have loved you.”
Can you tell which one is the original commissioned by St. Faustina? >>
I think it’s the 3rd one down..
That might be it. But hers didn’t have wording on it.
The artist couldn’t quite get it right and she cried because she judged it imperfect.
that’s it..
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