Wednesday of the Second Week of Lent
JER 18:18-20
PS 31:5-6, 14, 15-16
MT 20:17-28
"Must good be repaid with evil
that they should dig a pit to take my life?" (Jer 18:20)
Hard to read those lines from Jeremiah, written some 2600 years ago, without thinking of how we engage with differences of political, theological, or social controversy, particularly in an era of unfiltered content on social media. While Jeremiah's enemies dug a literal pit and literally threw him in it to die, how much better is it for people who challenge the status quo today and are bombarded by endless threats to themselves, their children, their spouses, never knowing what is trolling and what is credible? After the school shooting in Florida last week, we once again saw conspiracy theories from one of the scarier corners of the Twittersphere that the survivors who spoke out were actually paid actors. Students who had lost teachers and friends, whose own lives had only days before been in the balance, were now having their experiences falsified in the name of political expediency. Easy enough to simply repost what might sound like a credible argument, but what a moral responsibility we bear when casually and innocently reposting something that, if inaccurate, could do such harm to people. This denial of the very existence of such traumatic events is nothing new - think decades of Holocaust denials or the massive culture of silencing around sexual assault in this country - but apart from the retraumatizing impact on survivors, consider the silencing effect on others who have to weigh the risk of threats to self and loved ones against the imperative to stand for their convictions.
Jesus certainly understood what he was getting himself into, even if his disciples did not. Today's gospel is the third of three times that Jesus predicts his death, and the third of three times that the disciples misunderstand. The irony of James and John's mother asking that they be at Jesus' right and left - thinking that when he overthrew the Roman occupation and became king, they would be his secretary of state and his secretary of war. When he asks if they can drink from his cup, I can imagine them getting all excited - to be that close to the king! We the readers know who would actually be at his right and his left - the other criminals who were crucified with him. But as Martin Luther King, Jr. put it, "The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice." There is more to the story than just being beaten down by people who would do just about anything to silence voices of challenge - hope and resurrection.
Wednesday, February 28, 2018
Tuesday, February 27, 2018
Reflection for Tuesday, February 27, 2018
Tuesday of the Second Week of Lent
IS 1:10, 16-20
PS 50:8-9, 16BC-17, 21 AND 23
MT 23:1-12
IS 1:10, 16-20
PS 50:8-9, 16BC-17, 21 AND 23
MT 23:1-12
Caleb Williams was a great friend to
my family when I was growing up. A
married father of two girls, he worked in the paper mill in my hometown of
Millinocket, Maine and he looked every bit the part of a north New England
laborer. He wore his long hair under a
railroad conductor’s cap and preferred faded jeans and boots, no matter the
occasion. Although Caleb had a rough
exterior, it was clear to everyone who knew him that he loved sharing his
talents, his resources, and his time to help others--particularly young people.
In the Gospel that is being shared
during this second week of lent, Jesus cautions a crowd about the scribes and
Pharisees. “For they preach but do not
practice. They tie up heavy burdens hard
to carry and lay them on people’s shoulders, but they will not lift a finger to
move them. All their works are performed
to be seen.”
When I hear these words, I’m reminded
of how easy it is for the best-intentioned people to worry about appearances
and forget the joy, fulfillment, and community that comes from humbly easing
others’ burdens, even in simple ways. Caleb
seemed to never forget this.
Caleb’s generosity became evident to
me when I was a teenager; I wanted to play the guitar, but my family couldn’t
afford to buy me one. Caleb knew about
my passion for music and after speaking with my mother he approached me with a
proposal. If I would agree to paint his
garage, he would buy me a guitar. Within
a month, his garage was painted (a bit sloppy, but painted none-the-less), and
I owned an instrument that would set the stage for a musical career that
remains today.
Caleb’s easing of a seemingly small
burden in my life all those years ago led to a myriad of gifts that I continue
to enjoy. Through music, I have
experienced extraordinary friendships, I have traveled to interesting places,
and I have developed a second vocation that provides me with a creative and
cathartic outlet. And I owe it all to a
man who dismissed any worries about pretense and lived his life in a way that,
to me, represents the respect and care for others that Jesus speaks about in
his Gospel.
Many years ago, Caleb died as he lived—easing
the burdens of others. Working high on a
scaffold, one of his young co-workers lost balance and Caleb instinctively
rushed to assist him. The co-worker was
saved and Caleb tragically fell, passing away in the hospital days later. In my adult life, I never got the chance to
properly thank Caleb for what his gesture meant to me. And I firmly believe that he would expect no
thanks for any of his gestures, big or small.
He simply wanted to help others, he wanted to be true to himself, and as
the Gospel suggests, he wanted to practice the kindness and humility that he
preached.
Rob Boyle, PhD is Assistant Dean and Assistant Professor of Management in the Richard A. Chaifetz School of
Business.
Monday, February 26, 2018
Reflection for Monday, February 26, 2018
Monday of the Second Week in Lent
DN 9:4B-10
PS 79:8, 9, 11 AND 13
LK 6:36-38
Julia Nouse is a sophomore studying theology.
DN 9:4B-10
PS 79:8, 9, 11 AND 13
LK 6:36-38
In the reading from Deuteronomy,
we encounter our God who is compassionate, merciful, and forgiving in the face
of human sin. It is easy to be grateful for this God who unwaveringly loves us
enough to define us by more than our worst mistakes. What is not so easy,
however, is to be like our God in the expanse of our mercifulness as Jesus in
the Gospel of Luke implores to. Jesus’ call to be merciful as God is in
actuality the call to emulate the life of Christ that is central to the season
of Lent.
Often, I am caught up
in an impulse during Lent to “prove myself” to God, and I allow myself to
believe that sacrifices during Lent help me show God that I am capable of doing
good and therefore I myself am “good.” With this mindset, I have sometimes used
Lent as a time to try to earn God’s love, to somehow show that I am worthy and
lovable through my acts of self-denial. But God’s love is not contingent upon
my goodness and that love does not disappear because of my mistakes; it is
God’s mercy that allows God to love me for who I am exactly where I am. Receiving
this love then requires that I respond by being like the God who has extended
so much compassion and mercy to me.
Remembering
this call to mercy, Lent becomes an invitation to live more like Christ in the depth
of our compassion rather than a time to impress God. Lent is the time to shift
questions away from asking if others
deserve our compassion so that we might begin to ask how we might be merciful as God is merciful and extend compassion
to all who are struggling. Lent is also
a wonderful time to examine how intentional we are about caring for even those
who we usually think are not worthy of our compassion. To be merciful as God is
merciful, we must remember that to God no one is unworthy of compassion. If we
regularly ignore the struggles of those who are incarcerated, those who suffer
from addiction, or even our own parents, we are called especially during Lent to
enter into the realities of others and accompany them as God accompanies us.
Julia Nouse is a sophomore studying theology.
Saturday, February 24, 2018
Reflection for Saturday, February 24, 2017
Saturday of the First Week of Lent
DT 26:16-19
PS 119:1-2, 4-5, 7-8
MT 5:43-48
DT 26:16-19
PS 119:1-2, 4-5, 7-8
MT 5:43-48
This idea of ‘loving our enemies’ is probably one of the
most well knowing in the Catholic tradition, as well as one of the most
difficult to fully understand and live out daily. We can so easily say everyone
should love all people, but when we ourselves are faced with that adversity, we
are swayed by our own human emotions such as hatred and fear.
One thing I have learned is that if you consider someone
your enemy, chances are they have wronged you in some way. It is nearly
impossible to go from anger to love without the message of forgiveness; which
could ultimately lead to the possibility for an open heart. We must take the
time to forgive before we can truly love our enemies, which is why it is so
hard to do.
In order to be able to truly forgive, we must work hard. If
we don’t, we dwell on the issue and crowd out focusing on gratitude and love
and grace. When we forgive, we give up any claim we hold over other people.
Letting go of the claim to punish is key to forgiveness and freedom for you and your
"enemy".
In this day and age, we witness a lot of horrific tragedies at
the hands of others. Or we ourselves are the ones experiencing those difficult
moments. I know that I am still working on forgiveness for someone I would call
my ‘enemy.’ However, forgiveness and love are always a work in progress, and as
long as we are able to cast our cares to God knowing that they will be
received, we are able to know love. And at the end of it all, God is love. We
are made in Love’s image. Because
we are made in the image of Pure Love, we have the capacity to do some
seemingly impossible things...like forgive even those who have caused us deep
pain. Think about Jesus' words just before his death on the cross:
"forgive them for they do not know what they do." I know that
the resentment and hurt that I hold in my heart only poisons my spirit and my
soul, not my enemy’s. In turn, we can only help ourselves by loving our enemies.
Maia Delkamiller
Maia Delkamiller
Friday, February 23, 2018
Reflection for Friday, February 23, 2018
Friday of the First Week of Lent
EZ 18:21-28
PS 130:1-2, 3-4, 5-7A, 7BC-8
MT 5:20-26
I am good at following directions. Instead of holding me back, rules and plans help me stay focused and thrive with whatever I am doing.I think it’s fair to say that there is a balance somewhere between rules and freedom, between holding people closely to set standards and welcoming them regardless of what they may have done.
The Catholic Church is composed of many traditions and standards that followers are called to align themselves with. Sometimes, I really like these rules. Other times, however, I’m not sure how to reconcile the rules and standards of the Church with the way I believe all people should be treated. It hurts me when certain family members can’t receive communion because they’ve been divorced or when my female friend doesn’t feel comfortable attending mass because she has a girlfriend.
I wonder a lot about what we lose when we hold people to rules that don’t bend or reflect the intricateness of human existence. What do we lose when we forgo the rules? What do we gain? Who feels welcome and who does not? And in the same way, when we do hold people to certain ideas and standards, what do we achieve or preserve and what do we lose? Both of these ways of thinking open and close doors to different individuals. The question becomes, as a Church, as people of God, who do we open doors to? What are we willing to give up to ensure that certain doors stay open?
In today’s reading, we’re given two people: one who always follows the rules but strays from the path and one who never followed the rules but becomes virtuous at the end. In this reading, I think it’s obvious that God intended for the Church to be a place of open doors, regardless of past sins or decisions. When you are ready to enter, God has a seat waiting for you. This could be interpreted as a lack of standards or a “bending of the rules”. What if this formerly un-virtuous person is divorced? Or transgender? Or had an abortion? What does that mean for the Church? What does that mean for the person who “follows” the rules?
To me, the Lenten season is a time of reflecting on how we grow close to God and how we push God away. I’ve always believed that I grow closer to God when I love and support others (and myself). I also believe that the Catholic Church is meant to be a place of open doors, a place where quite literally everyone is welcome. This Lent, I’ve chosen to try to always respond to others with compassion (including myself). I truly believe we gain more when we bend the rules and accept every sinner from every place than we do when we shut the doors and promote certain “standards” that in fact do nothing but create shame and fear.
Mary is a Junior studying political science.
EZ 18:21-28
PS 130:1-2, 3-4, 5-7A, 7BC-8
MT 5:20-26
I am good at following directions. Instead of holding me back, rules and plans help me stay focused and thrive with whatever I am doing.I think it’s fair to say that there is a balance somewhere between rules and freedom, between holding people closely to set standards and welcoming them regardless of what they may have done.
The Catholic Church is composed of many traditions and standards that followers are called to align themselves with. Sometimes, I really like these rules. Other times, however, I’m not sure how to reconcile the rules and standards of the Church with the way I believe all people should be treated. It hurts me when certain family members can’t receive communion because they’ve been divorced or when my female friend doesn’t feel comfortable attending mass because she has a girlfriend.
I wonder a lot about what we lose when we hold people to rules that don’t bend or reflect the intricateness of human existence. What do we lose when we forgo the rules? What do we gain? Who feels welcome and who does not? And in the same way, when we do hold people to certain ideas and standards, what do we achieve or preserve and what do we lose? Both of these ways of thinking open and close doors to different individuals. The question becomes, as a Church, as people of God, who do we open doors to? What are we willing to give up to ensure that certain doors stay open?
In today’s reading, we’re given two people: one who always follows the rules but strays from the path and one who never followed the rules but becomes virtuous at the end. In this reading, I think it’s obvious that God intended for the Church to be a place of open doors, regardless of past sins or decisions. When you are ready to enter, God has a seat waiting for you. This could be interpreted as a lack of standards or a “bending of the rules”. What if this formerly un-virtuous person is divorced? Or transgender? Or had an abortion? What does that mean for the Church? What does that mean for the person who “follows” the rules?
To me, the Lenten season is a time of reflecting on how we grow close to God and how we push God away. I’ve always believed that I grow closer to God when I love and support others (and myself). I also believe that the Catholic Church is meant to be a place of open doors, a place where quite literally everyone is welcome. This Lent, I’ve chosen to try to always respond to others with compassion (including myself). I truly believe we gain more when we bend the rules and accept every sinner from every place than we do when we shut the doors and promote certain “standards” that in fact do nothing but create shame and fear.
Mary is a Junior studying political science.
Thursday, February 22, 2018
Reflection for Thursday, February 22, 2018
Feast of the Chair of Saint Peter, Apostle
1 PT 5:1-4
PS 23:1-3A, 4, 5, 6
MT 16:13-19
1 PT 5:1-4
PS 23:1-3A, 4, 5, 6
MT 16:13-19
The Lenten season is about preparation. We are
preparing for the death and resurrection of Jesus after these forty days. In
the Gospel today we see that Jesus is beginning to prepare the apostles for His
death. He says that Peter is the rock on which He will build His church. He is
creating the institution that will be the Kingdom of Heaven on earth. We have
inherited this church and are called to tend to it and help it to flourish.
That is what St. Paul is getting at in the first reading today. The question
then is how do we make the kingdom flourish. We can’t preach the Gospel without
first living out its teachings. We can use this Lenten season to improve
ourselves to be the best examples of the Gospel as possible. By our fasting,
small sacrifices of giving up something or increasing our prayer we are living
out the Gospel more fully and as such are continuing the Kingdom on earth. We
also see today the trust in God we must place. The response for today is
"the Lord is my Shepherd I shall not want." This psalm is saying that
when we place our trust in God, He will provide for our needs. That doesn’t
mean we don’t have to be proactive in our lives. Instead, we should thank God
for all he does for us by praising Him and providing for all those in need
around us.
John Mitton
Wednesday, February 21, 2018
Reflection for Wednesday, February 21, 2018
Wednesday of the First Week in Lent
JON 3:1-10
PS 51:3-4, 12-13, 18-19
LK 11:29-32
JON 3:1-10
PS 51:3-4, 12-13, 18-19
LK 11:29-32
The psalm for today calls back to the time of the great leader, King David, and asks for the second chance of a clean heart. “A clean heart create for me, God; renew within me a steadfast spirit. A heart contrite and humbled, O God, you will not spurn (PS 51: 12, 19).” What does it mean to be a humble leader?
The first reading tells of a story from Jonah, in which he was sent to give a message of impending doom to the people of Nineveh, a city depicted as a wicked and worthy of destruction. After walking about the city for a full day, the people of Nineveh heed Jonah’s warning and humble themselves to ash and sackcloth. When the news reaches the king, he too sheds his royal attire and begins a fast. The city is ultimately spared due to the humility of its people and the piety of its king. The second reading from Luke goes one step further and applauds the people of Nineveh for acting upon their faith in God’s message, rather than requiring a spectacular sign or miracle. This message is especially significant considering that Nineveh was an enemy of Israel, and their leadership was being praised for heading the warning of Jonah, a foreigner to them.
As community members of SLU, we are called to be servant leaders in our communities. Whether we serve as CSO executive board members, team captains, staff members, administrators, or faculty members, we are called to lead; but no one said leadership was easy. Many times, we are caught wavering between decisions, discerning which path will lead to the greater good. Sometimes we make mistakes, but through humility – and in solidarity with the people we lead – we might be offered a second chance.
So, how will you lead? Who will you look to for support and mentorship in your path to becoming a humble servant leader, in a society that seems to reward arrogance and flattery? How will you ask forgiveness and grow from your mistakes, when it seems like there’s so much at risk? Will you wait for a divine sign, or trust unexpected advice?
Jeff Godowski is the Residence Hall Coordinator for Marguerite and Fusz Halls.
Tuesday, February 20, 2018
Reflection for Tuesday, February 20, 2018
Tuesday of the First Week of Lent
IS 55:10-11
PS 34:4-5, 6-7, 16-17, 18-19
MT 6:7-15
IS 55:10-11
PS 34:4-5, 6-7, 16-17, 18-19
MT 6:7-15
As we enter into the first week of Lent, the
Gospel today reminds us about forgiveness.
When was the last time I forgave someone?
Many times, we forget to forgive each other and
ourselves. It can be easy to fit into the mold where we swiftly apologize and
go about with our day without recognizing the other person. Other times, we let
ourselves get too caught up in the day and with other people, that we forget to
forgive ourselves for working so hard or for being exhausted. Remind yourself
that it is okay to take time for yourself or to be with others.
The Gospel also reminds us of the power of prayer
and forgiveness. How many times do we go to mass and repeat the same prayers
every time without thinking of the meaning of the words? Many of us have grown
up with the Our Father and the Apostle’s Creed, but many times we just recite
those words without knowing what those words really mean.
While you read the Gospel today, think of the
meanings and intentions of the Our Father in the way that Jesus intended for us
to read these prayers, and also contemplating how each of these verses
continues to serve us in our daily lives. Think about the “Daily Bread” that
exists in your life and how that influences the ways in which you view Jesus.
Think about those words of the Our Father--what/who is the “Daily Bread” in
your life? How do the ways in which this person or thing act that reminds you of
the bread that is broken? Who has trespassed us this day, and how do we go
about reconciling that relationship? How do you stay out of evil and temptation
this day?
As this Gospel is sitting with you, take the time
to think and reflect on the ways that Jesus intended us to understand the Our
Father, about forgiveness and caring for both ourselves and others.
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