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

Thoughts on treasures

 

In this week’s Gospel Jesus tells his followers and us that the kingdom of God is like a treasure that we seek, that which we desire more than anything else, for which we would sacrifice all else. Each of us has our “treasures,” some are material, but even more, those that transcend what we can hold in our hands. (It is good for us to stop and ponder now what we count as the ultimate treasure in our life.)

The Lord appeared to King Solomon in a dream and asked what he most wanted from God. Solomon asked for an understanding heart, open to following God’s wishes. And God promised to give him that gift in full measure.

The love and grace of God who accompanies us keeps alive our hope for the ultimate treasure: life to the full. The treasures we now have are gifts that point us toward what we are truly longing for.

While there may be a “gap” between discovering, seeing, and possessing our treasure, we can seek the freedom and joy of people who have caught a glimpse of the kingdom that does not pass away.

St. Paul says that God predestined us to be conformed to the image of his Son, that He might be the firstborn among many sisters and brothers.

And the hope and promise for all of us lies in this prayer of Jesus: “Blessed are you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth; for you have revealed to little ones the mysteries of the kingdom.”

-Fr. Len Kraus, S.J.

More thoughts on parables

 

Matthew 13:10–17

Friends, in today’s Gospel, Jesus explains that he speaks in parables to baffle the crowds, who “look but do not see and hear but do not listen or understand.” The parables of Jesus are often exercises whose purpose is to confuse and confound the hearer, overturning her expectations and upsetting her theological convictions. God is just, but in light of the parable of the vineyard owner, one realizes that the ordinary notion of justice only vaguely indicates what divine justice is like. God is compassionate, but after hearing the story of the prodigal son, one knows that divine compassion infinitely surpasses even the most radical mode of human love. But why is the biblical God so elusive? Because he brought the whole of the finite universe into existence. God must be other in a way that transcends any and all modes of otherness discoverable within creation. Bishop Robert Barron

Thoughts on detachment

 

Letting Go

From: With Open Hands

Detachment is often understood as letting loose of what is attractive. But it sometimes also requires letting go of what is repulsive. You can indeed become attached to dark forces such as resentment and hatred. As long as you seek retaliation, you cling to your own past. Sometimes it seems as though you might lose yourself along with your revenge and hate – so you stand there with balled-up fists, closed to the other who wants to heal.

Reflection Question: What is something that you may be holding onto, and what can you do to start letting go?

A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones. - Proverbs 14: 30

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 parables

 

Jesus proposes more parables in our Gospel for this week: the field with weeds and wheat growing together, the tiny mustard seed that becomes a resting place for the birds of the sky, and yeast that the woman mixes with the flour.

Let’s focus on the parable of the weeds and the wheat. It manifests the work of God’s creative love in action. Though the kingdom is being preached and “sown” in many hearts, evil and rejection remain. (The human heart is so subtle, so delicate—the attempt to root out the evil may destroy the good.) God knows that the good and evil in the heart often stem from the same disposition. Like the Sower whose field has weeds and wheat together, God is patient: better to give grace time to work its victory.

We are very aware of the struggle within each of us to embrace God’s merciful work. St. Paul, in our second Reading, says that the Spirit comes to the aid of our weakness and intercedes for us “with inexpressible groanings.”

Among the many things that we are learning about God on our journey together as disciples is that God’s greatest power lies in loving care for us and in forgiveness of us. For, “to us has been given the grace to know the mysteries of the kingdom.”

In the words of our opening prayer this Sunday, we pray to be “watchful in keeping God’s commands,” Let us pray to be aware of God’s deepest desires for us “poor children of Eve” as we continue to walk together in faith, hope and love.

-Fr. Len Kraus, S.J.