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

Thoughts on the Feeding of the Five Thousand

 Mt. 14: 13 - 21



           This Sunday’s Gospel, the Feeding of the Five Thousand (or the Miracle of the Five Loaves and Two Fish), is unique in all of Sacred Scripture. It is the only miracle of Jesus that appears in all four Gospels. 

The four evangelists, and the Early Church, clearly recognized that this miracle was extraordinary.

 

           So, in what ways is the Feeding of the Five Thousand special? The Church has always seen in this miracle an anticipation of the Eucharist. At the institution of the Eucharist at the Last Supper, Jesus took bread, gave thanks, broke the bread, and gave it to the Apostles. The miracle is also an anticipation of the Heavenly Banquet, which is a common Scriptural image of the Kingdom of Heaven. But the Feeding of the Five Thousand does not only anticipate and look forward, it also looks backs to the Exodus, when God saved His Chosen People by feeding them miraculously with manna in the desert.

 

           What do we learn, or what can we be taught (or reminded of) by this miracle? It teaches us about Jesus, of course.

·        It reminds us of the compassion of Jesus. When he saw the vast crowd, "His heart was moved with pity for them, and He cured their sick." His compassion will not allow Him simply to send the crowd on its way late in the day on a lengthy walk back to their villages.

·        It teaches us about the power of Jesus. The One who has compassion also has the power necessary to help His people and serve their needs, both curing the sick and feeding the hungry.

·        The miracle reminds us that all gifts are from God. Jesus effects the multiplication of the loaves and fish by "looking up to heaven" and saying the blessing. Jesus gives thanks to the Father. He does this at the Last Supper also, and we remember that our Eucharist means "thanksgiving" because Jesus gave thanks to the Father.

           

           But this miracle can teach us something important about ourselves, too.

·        It is the disciples who have brought the original five loaves and two fish; they have given Jesus their gifts. After the blessing Jesus then gives the loaves and fish to His disciples. They are the ones who distribute the miraculous, multiplied food to those in need.

·        God works in this world largely through us, His disciples. He can even work miracles through us. 

Who of us knows how many miracles God has worked through us, perhaps through our kind, loving, generous, compassionate words and actions?

 

           Today at this Mass we are witnesses of a miraculous feeding. From our gifts Our Lord gives us His Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity to nourish us and sustain us spiritually. We are the disciples today who go out into the world, striving to take God to others – show God to others – by all we say and do.

Furthermore, whatever blessings we have the Lord multiplies so that His miracles of grace continue even today.

-Fr. Don Saunders, S.J.

Thoughts on evil

 

Seventeenth Week in Ordinary Time

Matthew 13:47–53

Friends, today’s Gospel reminds us of the final judgment, when the wicked will be separated from the righteous. When good and evil are confused or intermingled, divine judgment separates them, clarifying the issue.  Bob Dylan said, “The enemy I see wears the cloak of decency.” One of the favorite ruses of evil is to cover itself in the mantle of justice and piety, at the same time aping and hiding behind that which it opposes. Christ’s judgment rips away these cloaking devices, these deceits, and shows things as they are.  Authentic Christianity is a fighting religion, and it calls evil by its name. The Church knows what stands outside of itself, and it turns its back on it. The bearer of light and truth, it separates good from evil, sometimes painfully, like a “two-edged sword.”  Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on solitude

 

Solitude Challenges Drivenness

From: The Road to Peace

Solitude comes from the word solus, meaning to be alone. People have an enormous number of things to do in life. Many of us are driven. Solitude pokes a hole in that drivenness and helps us stop for a moment and ask: “What is it all for?” It means spending a little time with God to listen to the voice who says, “You are mine, I am yours, I love you. You don't have to prove yourself. You are fine.”

Reflection Question: When was the last time you made space to ponder, “What is it all for?”

He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters… - Psalm 23: 2

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

Thoughts on honor

 

Feast of Saint James, Apostle

Matthew 20:20–28

Friends, today in our Gospel, the mother of James and John asks Jesus on their behalf for high places of authority in his kingdom. Ah, there is the voice of ambition. Some people don’t care at all about money or power or pleasure—but they care passionately about honor. A lot of people can identify with James and John. They want to go places; they want to be movers and shakers in society. Perhaps a number of people reading this reflection are filled with these emotions. But Jesus turns the tables on them: “You do not know what you are asking.” He is indeed a King, and he will indeed rule Israel, but his crown will be made of thorns, and his throne will be a Roman instrument of torture.  And so he tries to clarify: “Can you drink the cup that I am going to drink?” The key to honor in the kingdom of God is to drink the cup of suffering, to be willing to suffer out of love, to give one’s life away as a gift. Look at the lives of the saints. It is not about aggrandizing the ego but emptying it out. Bishop Robert Barron