Thoughts on reconciliation

 

People of Reconciliation

From: Finding My Way Home: Pathways to Life and the Spirit

If you dare to believe that you are beloved before you were born, you may suddenly realize that your life is very, very special. You become conscious that you were sent here just for a short time, for twenty, forty, or eighty years, to discover and believe that you are a beloved child of God. The length of time doesn't matter. You are sent into this world to believe in yourself as God's chosen one and then to help your brothers and sisters know that they are also beloved sons and daughters of God who belong together. You're sent into this world to be a people of reconciliation. You are sent to heal, to break down the walls between you and your neighbors, locally, nationally, and globally. Before all the distinctions, the separations, and the walls built on the foundations of fear, there was unity in the mind and heart of God. Out of that unity, you are sent into this world for a little while to claim that you and every other human being belongs to that same God of Love who lives from eternity to eternity.

Reflection Question: Where might God be calling you to break down walls with your neighbors today?

The Lord appeared to us in the past, saying: “I have loved - you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness. - Jeremiah 31: 3

Henri Nouwen (1932–1996) was a priest, professor, and spiritual writer. He authored over 40 books on the spiritual life and spent his final years at L'Arche Daybreak, a community for people with intellectual disabilities. Drawing from his own journey of vulnerability and faith, he invites seekers into deeper intimacy with God, themselves, and others.

More Books by Henri Nouwen

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Thoughts on Holy people

 

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Matthew 14:22–33

Friends, in today’s Gospel, Jesus rescues Peter and says, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” When we live wrapped up around our own egos and their fears, we inhabit the narrow space of the pusilla anima (the little soul), but when we forget our awful seriousness, when we live in a risky freedom, we inhabit the infinite expanse of the magna anima (the great soul). Holy people are those who realize that they participate in something and Someone infinitely greater than themselves. Far from crushing them, this awareness makes them great. In a hundred ways, our theological and spiritual tradition attempts to cultivate the great soul, to lure us into that wonderful conviction that it is not about us. John’s Gospel says that in his youth, Peter labored under the illusion that he could control his life: He walked where he liked and he tied his own belt. But in his old age—the time of wisdom—he will realize that his life has been under the direction of a Power that his ego cannot begin to manipulate. In taking him where he does not want to go, this Power will introduce him to the magna anima. Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on World War I

 

Mt. 14: 22 - 23



           Recently, I have been reading about the start of World War I in the summer of 1914, being particularly interested in the United Kingdom’s involvement beginning on 4 August 1914.

           In the years that I travelled to England to assist in parishes during the summer, I was always impressed by the number of war memorials everywhere, especially World War I memorials. Of course, there are the many famous London memorials, including the Cenotaph on Whitehall and the Tomb of the Unknown Warrior in Westminster Abbey. But when I visited those beautiful little villages that dot the countryside, I would see in every church a prominent memorial that listed the names of those men from that village who were killed in the so-called Great War. It seemed to me that the smallest of villages lost dozens of young men. They usually say in England that the country lost an entire generation.

           In fact, the London church that I served for many summers, St. Patrick’s, Soho Square, had its own World War I memorial, and the church had even been bombed in WW II during the Blitz. The bomb only crashed through the roof and did not explode. Today a plaque marks the spot and thanks God for His protection of the church.

           Sadly, it seems that the world is always at war, as we know so well even today.

Probably, some of you have known the suffering of war directly. But we all have known conflict; we all have known times when the wind blows contrary. In life the wind is often contrary. There are times when we are up against it, and life becomes a desperate struggle – with ourselves, our circumstances, our temptations, our sorrows, our pains, our decisions; sometimes, sadly, even a struggle with our loved ones.

 

           Today’s Gospel reminds us that at such times no one needs to struggle alone. The Gospel is not only an account of a miracle that happened on the Sea of Galilee about 2,000 years ago. 

Our Lord comes to us across the storms of life with His hand outstretched to save us, and with His calm, clear voice bidding us to take courage and not fear: “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.”

           The Early Church found this passage one of the most consoling of all the Sacred Scriptures. 

They knew well what persecution was; they knew well what pain and suffering were. After all, they were frequently martyrs. 

           Not all of us have known the pain and suffering of war and direct persecution. But all of us have known pain, suffering, struggle, worry; and we frequently need consolation, guidance, encouragement, healing. May we take courage and be assured what our Faith teaches us and the Gospel shows us: Our Lord did not only calm storms and save Peter on the sea in ancient Palestine. He saves us, and He calms the frequent storms that can seem to overwhelm our lives, even today. 

-Fr. Don Saunders, S.J.

Thoughts on the Transfiguration

 

Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord

Matthew 17:1–9

Friends, today’s Gospel celebrates the transfiguration. Christ came not just to make us nice people or morally upright folks, but rather to give us a share in his divine life, to make us denizens of heaven, people capable of living in that new environment. What gave the first Christians this conviction? The answer is the resurrection—and the great anticipation of the resurrection, which is the transfiguration. This ordinary Jesus somehow became transformed, elevated, enhanced in his manner of being. The first thing we notice is that his appearance becomes more beautiful. These somewhat grubby bodies of ours are destined for a transfigured, elevated beauty. Secondly, in his transfigured state, Jesus transcends space and time, since he is talking with Moses and Elijah. In this world, we are caught in one moment of space and time, but in heaven, we will live in the eternal now of God’s life. Have you ever noticed that even as we appreciate all that is wonderful about this life, we are never really at home? There is a permanent restlessness about human life. But a higher, richer, more beautiful and spiritually fulfilling life awaits us. Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on blessings

 

Discovering Our True Self

From: Life of the Beloved: Spiritual Living in a Secular World

To give a blessing is to affirm, to say “yes” to a person's Belovedness. And more than that: To give a blessing creates the reality of which it speaks. There is a lot of mutual admiration in this world, just as there is a lot of mutual condemnation. A blessing goes beyond the distinction between admiration and condemnation, between virtues or vices, between good deeds or evil deeds. A blessing touches the original goodness of the other and calls forth his or her Belovedness.

Reflection Question: Who might God be directing you to give a blessing to today?

Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. - 1 John 4: 11

Henri Nouwen (1932–1996) was a priest, professor, and spiritual writer. He authored over 40 books on the spiritual life and spent his final years at L'Arche Daybreak, a community for people with intellectual disabilities. Drawing from his own journey of vulnerability and faith, he invites seekers into deeper intimacy with God, themselves, and others.

More Books by Henri Nouwen

Explore the Daily Meditations

Thoughts on martyrs

 

Memorial of Saint Alphonsus Liguori, Bishop and Doctor of the Church

Matthew 14:1–12

Friends, in today’s Gospel, Herod has John the Baptist beheaded, making him a protomartyr of Christ’s followers, the first of many martyrs to come. Can we read that terrible and wonderful book of martyrs, the book of Revelation, without seeing the power of bold, truthful proclamation in the early Christian Church? And the cloud of witnesses grows up and down the Christian centuries. Today, from Pakistan to Nigeria, from Egypt to Iraq, ordinary Christians routinely risk their lives simply by declaring their faith and worshiping according to their consciences. They are walking in the footsteps of great martyrs of the tradition, from Stephen, Peter, and Paul to Miguel Pro shouting “Viva Cristo Rey!” to his executioners; Martin Luther King Jr. taking an assassin’s bullet because he insisted on being a drum major for New Testament justice; and Franz Jaggerstätter, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and Edith Stein challenging to their dying breaths the lies of Nazism. And what we see in these martyrs is not ordinary courage but a courage elevated and transfigured through love. We see a willingness to give away even one’s life out of love for Christ and his people.  Bishop Robert Barron