February 9, 2014

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Thus says the LORD:
Share your bread with the hungry,
shelter the oppressed and the homeless;
clothe the naked when you see them,
and do not turn your back on your own.
Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
and your wound shall quickly be healed;
your vindication shall go before you,
and the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard.
Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer,
you shall cry for help, and he will say: Here I am!
If you remove from your midst
oppression, false accusation and malicious speech;
if you bestow your bread on the hungry
and satisfy the afflicted;
then light shall rise for you in the darkness,
and the gloom shall become for you like midday.

Responsorial Psalm ps 112:4-5, 6-7, 8-9

R/ (4a) The just man is a light in darkness to the upright.
or:
R/ Alleluia.
Light shines through the darkness for the upright;
he is gracious and merciful and just.
Well for the man who is gracious and lends,
who conducts his affairs with justice.
R/ The just man is a light in darkness to the upright.
or:
R/ Alleluia.
He shall never be moved;
the just one shall be in everlasting remembrance.
An evil report he shall not fear;
his heart is firm, trusting in the LORD.
R/ The just man is a light in darkness to the upright.
or:
R/ Alleluia.
His heart is steadfast; he shall not fear.
Lavishly he gives to the poor;
His justice shall endure forever;
his horn shall be exalted in glory.
R/ The just man is a light in darkness to the upright.
or:
R/ Alleluia.

reading 2 1 cor 2:1-5

When I came to you, brothers and sisters,
proclaiming the mystery of God,
I did not come with sublimity of words or of wisdom.
For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you
except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.
I came to you in weakness and fear and much trembling,
and my message and my proclamation
were not with persuasive words of wisdom,
but with a demonstration of Spirit and power,
so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom
but on the power of God.

Gospel mt 5:13-16

Jesus said to his disciples:
“You are the salt of the earth.
But if salt loses its taste, with what can it be seasoned?
It is no longer good for anything
but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.
You are the light of the world.
A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden.
Nor do they light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket;
it is set on a lampstand,
where it gives light to all in the house.
Just so, your light must shine before others,
that they may see your good deeds
and glorify your heavenly Father.”

5th Sunday in Ordinary Time "Be a Showoff"

(Tissot: Sermon on the Mount)

"You are the salt of the earth . . . the light of the world"

Word for Sunday: http://usccb.org/bible/readings/020914.cfm

Is 58: 7-10
1 Cor 2: 1-5
Mt 5: 13-16

No one loves a “showoff” or a “name dropper,” unless you happen to be a Christian. So it seems, may be the message of our readings this Sunday. But we must explain.

Jesus uses two images which clearly tell us that his disciples must not be hidden or silent. They must be seen by others. They must enhance a distinctive taste and show off a shining light. We must be salt and light for others. And the name we drop is not our own but that of Jesus Christ.

“Jesus said to his disciples: ‘You are the salt of the earth . . . You are the light of the world . . .’” In our culture today we mostly think of salt as a taste enhancer for food. We know that our bodies need a certain amount of salt but we must also be conscious of such things as blood pressure which seems to be affected by too much salt in our food. Yet, I’m one who loves sea salt and vinegar potato chips. As tempting as it is, eating a whole bag at once may just be a little too much! So our concern for salt these days is for taste and health.

However, in ancient times salt was like gold. It was used to purify, to season, to preserve, especially in the days before our now common methods of refrigeration. Salt was expensive, guarded carefully, and taxed heavily. A kind of “salt tax” was commonly understood.

If that be so, our Lord’s example has even greater weight. As missionary disciples as Jesus speaks and as our Holy Father Pope Francis reiterates, is like salt to give a distinctive difference in the world around us. The ultimate price paid is that of death and resurrection. Food without salt is bland – green beans and broccoli don’t cut it without some help from a bit of flavor enhancer (salt) – and we too are called to give the culture around us a distinctive flavor.

The same is true with Jesus’ similar image of light. Once the light shines like a city on a hill or a lamp in the home, it fulfills its purpose. To hide that light is to deny its very existence and purpose. So, we Christians, like light, are meant to be seen. It’s all right to show off for others, if our display leads others to Christ: “Your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds, and glorify your heavenly Father.”

Yet, what do others need to see? Us praying in Church? Preaching on the street corner? Engaging in a debate of apologetics? While all this certainly has value, our first reading from Isaiah makes clear what pleases the Lord:

“Share your bread with the hungry, shelter the oppressed and the homeless; clothe the naked . . . do not turn your back on your own . . .” Later in Matthew’s Gospel, chapter 25: 31 – 46, Jesus separates sheep from the goats at the last judgment and reiterates the same: “. . . you gave me food . . . you gave me drink . . .you welcomed me . . . you clothed me . . . you comforted me. . . you came to visit me . . . as often as you did it for one of my least ones, you did it for me . . .”

As we minister to others in basic, fundamental ways with love, after the example of Jesus himself, we are salt and light. We offer a distinctive alternative to the self-absorbed, subjectively moral, “throw away culture” (Pope Francis) in which we live. As we do so, we show off the good works that make a difference and tell the world that Catholic Christians can make a distinctive difference; that the good news of Jesus is an invitation to all.

Just imagine how the world would taste and how much light would shine if we all took seriously the call to maximum visibility in the world. In the celebration of our Eucharist, we gather not to impress one another by how good, generous, kind, and humble we are. But to empower one another in the name of Jesus and then to go out and: “Glorify the Lord by our lives.”

So, go ahead and show off this week and name drop the one name above all others, Jesus Christ.

Keep your family safe, O Lord, with unfailing care,

that, relying solely on the hope of heavenly grace,

they may be defended always by your protection.

Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,

who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

one God, for ever and ever.

(Collect of Mass)

Insight Scoop

Salt, Cities, and Disciples

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for Sunday, February 9, 2014 | Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time | Carl E. Olson

Readings:
• Is 58:7-10
• Ps 112:4-5, 6-7, 8-9
• 1 Cor 2:1-5
• Mt. 5:13-16

It is small, simple, and composed mostly of something that doesn’t sound tasty at all: sodium chloride. But the importance of salt in the ancient world is hard to overstate, even if it is usually taken for granted in our own day. Salt was valued so much among the Romans that spilling it was interpreted as a bad sign. The word “salary” is derived from the word “salt”, in reference to payments made to Roman soldiers (either in salt, or so they could purchase salt); a bad soldier was sometimes described as “not worth his salt”.

Similarly, we are all familiar with the expression, “He is the salt of the earth.” That phrase comes from today’s Gospel reading and Jesus’ declaration in the Sermon on the Mount, “You are the salt of the earth.” This was high praise when we consider that salt often played a role in the rise and fall of nations and civilizations. Before refrigeration and other modern means of preserving food, salt was vital to keeping food pure and edible, which in turn had a significant effect on the health, stability, and success of ancient peoples.

This important place and positive affect of salt is seen in passages in the Old Testament. In the book of Job, the question is asked, “Can that which is tasteless be eaten without salt…?” (Job 6:6), and the author of Sirach states, “Chief of all needs for human life are water and fire, iron and salt…” (Sir 39:26). Newborn babies were rubbed with salt (cf. Ez. 16:4), and certain burnt offerings were sprinkled with salt (Lev 2:13; Num 18:19; Ez 43:24), which symbolized the indissoluble, covenantal relationship between God and the chosen people of Israel.

In the positive sense used by Jesus, to be salt of the earth is to work to preserve life, to be pure, and to exemplify holiness. “Jesus signifies that all human nature has ‘lost its taste’”, wrote St. John Chrysostom, “having become rotten through sin.” This plays on the double meaning of the Greek language, in which the phrase “loses its taste” can also mean “has become foolish and dull”. Mankind has lost its moral awareness and sense of holiness, and Christ’s disciples are to restore what has been lost, drawing men and women to the source of eternal life.

Jesus then said, “You are the light of the world.” This builds upon St. Matthew’s reference, in the previous chapter, to “the people who sat in darkness” having “seen a great light” (Mt 4:16; cf. Isa 9:1-2). The reference to “a city set on a mountain” is also drawn from the prophet Isaiah, who envisioned a time when “the mountain of the house of the Lord shall be established as the highest of the mountains” (Isa 2:2). That is “the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem” mentioned in the Epistle to the Hebrews, the eternal home for those who, as members of the Church, journey toward the Kingdom.

“The humble city is the society of holy men and good angels,” wrote St. Augustine in his great work, City of God, “the proud city is the society of wicked men and evil angels. The one city began with the love of God; the other had its beginnings in the love of self” (Bk. XIV, ch. 13). Those who are motivated by a vanity and narcissism live in darkness; they are consumed by themselves and destined for eternal darkness if they do not change their ways.

But those who follow Christ are filled with the life and light of God: “Just so, your light must shine before others…” Why? So that the world—filled with corruption and sin, lacking salt and the taste of goodness—will see the good deeds done by grace and glorify God. “It is only for the sake of God’s glory that we should allow our good works to become known”, noted Augustine. That should be the goal of every disciple worth his salt.

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the February 6, 2011, issue of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)

Vultus Christi

The Way of the Pilgrim

Saturday, 08 February 2014 19:31

Pilgrimage and Enclosure

When one thinks of the Benedictine ideal, one imagines monks behind their enclosure walls, buried deep in a kind of unshakeable stability. In spite of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, one does not usually associate pilgrimages with monks and nuns. Pilgrimages remain exceptional for monks and nuns, but they are not unknown. Many a monastic vocation has been consolidated and restored by sending a man on pilgrimage, and many a monk has obtained special graces while praying in a place sanctified by an apparition of the Mother of God or marked by the miracles wrought by a saints. There are two significant pilgrimages in the life of Mother Mectilde. The first was to a humble Marian sanctuary, and the second was to the famous Mont Saint–Michel. So much for a narrowly legalistic conception of monastic enclosure! The saints are wonderfully free with the sublime freedom of the children of God. They are free within the constraints of the law, and free when obliged to press through its constraints, always acting in obedience to the Church and under the sway of the Holy Spirit’s seven gifts.

Appeal to Our Lady

In 1641, Mother Mectilde and her companions, temporarily lodged at Saint–Mihiel on the banks of the Meuse, learn, to their dismay, that the abbess of Montmartre has refused them hospitality in Paris for fear of seeing foreign usages introduced into her monastery by guests. Undaunted, Mother Mectilde appeals to a Lady more powerful than the abbess of Montmartre; she addresses a petition to the Most Immaculate Mother of God and, in the company of two other nuns, goes on pilgrimage, petition in hand, to the marian sanctuary of Benoîte–Vaux. The sanctuary is in the care of the Premonstratensian canons. The pilgrim Benedictines spend the whole night in prayer. At 4 o’clock in the morning, the chaplain of the sanctuary celebrates the Mass of Our Lady of the Angels — it is August 2nd, the feast of the Portiuncula — and the petition of the Benedictines is placed at Our Lady’s feet. The fervent pilgrims beg, above all, for the grace of knowing the will of God; they further ask to be spared the outrages perpetrated by soldiers, and to find some Benedictine houses willing to take them in, so that they might persevere in their monastic consecration.

Our Lady’s Answer

When they returned to Saint-Mihiel, it was obvious to all who saw Mother Mectilde and her two companions that they had received extraordinary graces; they seem transfigured. Much later, Mother Mectilde let slip a few words intimating that, in the sanctuary of Benoîte-Vaux, Our Lady revealed to her God’s designs on her life. A few days after the pilgrimage, a commissary of Monsieur Vincent (de Paul), named Mathieu Renard, asks to see the prioress and, with no preliminaries, says, “I have come, Mother, to take two of your religious to Montmartre, I have orders to do this, and Madame the Duchess of Aiguillon has provided me with money for the journey.”

An Abbess Changes Her Mind

What happened at Montmartre that caused the Abbess to have so complete a change of heart? On the very night that Mother Mectilde and her companions were praying at the sanctuary of Benoîte-Vaux, the abbess of Montmartre woke up all of a sudden and summoned the two religious who slept in her bedchamber to look after her in illness. The abbess was in a dreadful state of fright. It seemed to her, she said, that she saw the Most Holy Virgin and her Divine Son reproaching her for her lack of hospitality to the poor homeless Benedictines in the Lorraine; they threatened her with a rigourous judgment should they, through her fault, perish in their misery and need. The next day the Abbess convened her senior religious; all agreed that they had to execute the manifest will of God.

Pilgrimage to Saint Michael the Archangel

In 1660, Mother Mectilde, having served three years as prioress of the Benedictine monastery of Notre–Dame de Bon–Secours in Caen finds herself elected prioress of the community of her profession at Rambervillers. This turn of events obliges her to travel from Caen to Paris, and then from Paris to Rambervillers in the Vosges mountains. Ever devoted to Saint Michael the Archangel, Mother Mectilde requests permission of her ecclesiastical superior to undertake a pilgrimage to the Mont Saint–Michel, some one–hundred–forty kilometres from Caen. Several of her friends offer her the cost of the pilgrimage as a token of their own devotion to the Archangel protector of France in whom Saint Joan of Arc had such confidence. Mother Mectilde would later adopt Saint Michael the Archangel as one of the patrons of the Benedictines of Perpetual Adoration.

Scripture Speaks: Sermon on the Mount

Gayle Somers

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus promised blessing on those willing to follow Him. But what did He want them to do with that blessing?

Gospel (Read Mt 5:13-16)

St. Matthew tells us that as Jesus preached to a large crowd gathered on a mountain, He described for them the life of blessing (the Beatitudes; see Mt 5:3-11). There were some surprises in it! He pronounced those who experienced poverty of spirit, mourning, hunger for righteousness, and persecution in their lives with God as “blessed.” He was calling His followers to a life that looked way beyond what could be seen and observed in this world, a life built on the conviction that there is more here than meets the eye. Then, however, He completely changes course; He makes a rapid shift from the otherworldly to the this-worldly. Why?

Jesus tells His followers that even though they must understand all their difficulties or suffering within the much larger context of the life of the world to come, they must not forget life in this world. Paradoxically, to live a truly otherworldly life makes a believer the “salt” and “light” of this world. Here Jesus gives us the real meaning of the work He came to do. He wants His followers to live by faith in Him, to believe that this earthly life is not our final end. That, of course, will make us misfits in this world. Yet the very fact that we live this way—living the peace and blessedness of the Beatitudes—makes us into people who “salt” the earth. By the transformation of our lives in Christ, we give taste to the otherwise drab meaningless of life without God. As the people of God, the Church, we are praying, always and everywhere, for the salvation of all the people. As we do this work, we are the sacrament of salvation—the “salt” that preserves the human race.

When we live in obedience to Christ’s law of love (the Beatitudes), we become “the light of the world,” because we share with others God’s unconditional love for us. The world without God is a world starved for love, a world that sits in the darkness of self-centeredness and pride. Jesus tells us: “Your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.”

There is a warning for us here, too. We are “salt” and “light” in the world as long as we work at it. We must take care not to lose our taste or hide our light. How does that happen? The greatest threat to our being what we are called to be is when we forget that we have been “blessed” in order to bless others. What Christ does in us through the transformation only He can do (described in the Beatitudes) is meant to make us like Him. That is, we embrace a life of self-denying love for others. To be a Christian is to have the vocation of love for God and our neighbor. When we lose sight of this through laziness, self-absorption, self-righteousness, etc., we lose our taste and our light.

Life without God in this world is bland, tasteless. It is lived in the dark and ultimately ends in the utter darkness of separation from God. Jesus has a remedy—us. Are we willing to listen to Him and follow?

Possible response: Lord Jesus, help me remember today that the blessedness You give me is meant to bless others, too.

First Reading (Read Isa 58:7-10)

We see here that Jesus’ emphasis on good works in the life of a believer was not really new. The prophet, Isaiah, described how acts of unconditional love for others, especially the needy, make God’s people into light that “shall break forth like the dawn.” In their context, Isaiah’s words were directed to Israel’s lack of light. The people were guilty of terrible covenant unfaithfulness. They were harsh toward the weak and the lost. They were guilty of “oppression, false accusation, and malicious speech.” Isaiah urged them to bestow “bread on the hungry” and to satisfy “the afflicted.” When they lived this life of love of neighbor, God promised that “light shall rise for you in darkness and the gloom shall become for you llike midday.”

Possible response: Heavenly Father, to do good for others is to shed Your light in the world. Give me eyes to see how I can do that today.

Psalm (Read Ps 112:4-9)

This is a beautiful psalm that describes the life of justice to which God’s covenants, both Old and New, have always called His people. Believers are to be “gracious and merciful and just.” The just man is a blessing to others (“lavishly gives to the poor”), and he experiences the peace and steadfastness for which all men yearn (“his heart is firm, trusting the Lord … he shall not fear”). Our antiphon enables us to sing the praise of the just man, echoing Jesus’ desires for His followers in our Gospel: “The just man is a light in the darkness to the upright.”

Possible response: The psalm is, itself, a response to our other readings. Read it again carefully to make it your own.

Second Reading (Read 1 Cor 2:1-5)

St. Paul, in writing to his convert friends in Corinth, describes how he visited them not “with sublimity of words or of wisdom … I came to you in weakness and fear and much trembling.” He is reminding them that their conversion to Christ was not a result of his excellence as an orator or philosopher. In simple terms, he preached “nothing … except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified.” Consequently, their faith in Jesus was a “demonstration of Spirit and power,” resting “not on human wisdom but on the power of God.”

So, what do we see here? St. Paul becomes for us an example of what Jesus urged on His followers in the Gospel. Although he did not feel personally equipped for the work of an evangelist, he nevertheless obeyed his vocation to visit the Corinthians, who lived in the darkness of pagan idolatry, and be salt and light for them. These verses help us see how the blessing of faith in Christ is meant to transform us so that no matter how ill-equipped we may feel to do the work He’s given us to do, we are willing to step out in faith and serve.

Thank you, St. Paul.

Possible response: Lord Jesus, strengthen me through this example of willingness to obey Your call to bless others, even when feeling inadequate.

You are the Salt of the Earth

Marcellino D'Ambrosio, Ph.D.

As a Catholic teen growing up in one of the most Catholic area of the US, I never would have considered abandoning my faith. But neither would I ever have considered getting excited about it. Why should I? Nobody else in my parish seemed excited. The teens in the parish went wild at the rock concerts we attended, and the adults got excited about New Year’s Eve and Super Bowl parties.

Yet when I looked around at these same people during Sunday Mass, I saw a sea of blank faces. So I assumed being Catholic was about denying yourself a bit of fun now so that something really bad wouldn’t happen to you later (namely, hell). Of course, I did not want to settle for a dull life, so I paid my weekly dues at church and tried to avoid real serious sin as I grabbed for as much gusto as I could.

From the looks of things, you’d think that one of the beatitudes was “blessed be the bland.” To the contrary, Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount “you are the salt of the earth” (Matthew 5:13). Salt is spicy, not dull and boring. It actually has the power to make insipid food tasty and to preserve food that would otherwise spoil. Salt was so valuable in antiquity that it was often used to pay soldiers their wages. The Latin term for salt is actually the origin of our English word “salary.” Hence the expression “he’s worth his salt.”

Jesus is very clear that he is not paying for salt that has no flavor. It is good for nothing but the trash heap. This reminds me of what the he says elsewhere to a group of less than impressive Christians: because they were lukewarm rather than hot or cold, he intended to spew them out of his mouth (Rev 3:15-16). In other words, lukewarm Christians make God sick.

This is not to say that one must be an extrovert, entertainer, or brilliant lecturer to be a successful Christian. It’s not about personality . . . it’s about heart. It’s about approaching your Christian life with passion rather than with a yawn. After all, on the day of Pentecost Jesus did not rain down Prozac from heaven, but fire. In the presence of fire, people don’t meander and mope. They move, and move quickly.

We can’t be the light of the world unless we’re on fire. The Christian life cannot be lived on autopilot, in robotic fashion. That sort of existence is not living, but surviving. And it will attract absolutely no one to Christ and the Catholic Church.

So how did I move from being a lukewarm Catholic teen to a salty, fiery one? Simple. A friend of mine went through a change. She had been troubled and had gotten into trouble. But I saw a change in her lifestyle and her countenance. As she told me what Jesus meant to her, there was joy and peace on her face and a quiet passion in her words. Her shining countenance got my attention. Her “tasty” words intrigued me. They led me to a Catholic renewal group in a nearby parish where I saw many changed lives and lots of radiant faces. And so I joined them as they pursued a life of prayer, evangelization, and service to the poor in the inner city (Is 58:7-10). They did their job of being salt and light.

Are you doing your job? Are you hot or lukewarm, spiritually alive or comatose? Here’s a test for you. Answer honestly. Are you excited about prayer, or is it a chore? When you have extra time and money, how much of it do you ever invest it in spiritual growth or apostolic service? Are you “too busy” to get to confession regularly, attend a parish mission, or get involved in serving the needy? And finally, if it were a crime to be a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?

One Bread One Body

One Bread, One Body

Language: English | Español

All Issues > Volume 30, Issue 2

<< Sunday, February 9, 2014 >>

5th Sunday Ordinary Time

Isaiah 58:7-10
1 Corinthians 2:1-5
View Readings

Psalm 112:4-9
Matthew 5:13-16
Similar Reflections

SALT LICKED?

"What if salt goes flat? How can you restore its flavor? Then it is good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot." —Matthew 5:13

We've had much snow this year. As I walked to Mass this morning, I had to walk over large quantities of salt on the streets and in the Church parking lot. That salt had been trampled upon by many people (see Mt 5:13) and was dirty and disgusting. No one would ever consider sprinkling it on their dinner.

Similarly, in the time of Jesus, when conquering armies had vanquished a nation, they spread salt on that nation's croplands and trampled it underfoot to work it deep into the soil. This degraded the soil so that crops planted in that soil would wither and not bear fruit, thus making it unlikely that nation would prosper again.

When we became disciples of Jesus, we received His Word with great joy (Mk 4:16). We became the salt of the earth (Mt 5:13), and this kind of "salt is good" (Lk 14:34). We literally put a "good taste" in the mouth of those who are hungry for God's love. If, however, we fall away from Jesus, we go flat. We become to hurting people that salt which degrades. The enemy has used our "flat" lives to trample people underfoot.

Jesus teaches us: "Salt is good, but if salt loses its flavor what good is it for seasoning? It is fit for neither the soil nor the manure heap; it has to be thrown away. Let him who hears this, heed it" (Lk 14:34-35). "Keep salt in your hearts and you will be at peace with one another" (Mk 9:50).

Every day, draw closer to Jesus. Let Him refresh you with His love. Be salt that refreshes and not salt that degrades.

Prayer: Father, send the Holy Spirit to keep me fresh for You.

Promise: "Your faith rests not on the wisdom of men but on the power of God." —1 Cor 2:5

Praise: Praise Jesus, Who has conquered sin and death!

Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.