Reflection for Saturday, March 7, 2015

Saturday of the Second Week of Lent
MI 7: 14-15, 18-20
PS 103: 1-2, 3-4, 9-10, 11-12
LK 15: 1-3, 11-32

“Your brother was dead has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.”

Ah, the prodigal son parable.  I toss the word “prodigal” around in my daily life fairly loosely. My “prodigal roommate” will return to our room after long expanses of time in the library, or my “prodigal Nalgene” always seems to find its way back to me no matter how many times I’ve left it in the biology labs.

The two words used to describe the prodigal son that particularly resonate with me are “lost” and “dead.” We all know how it feels to be lost – I chronically have no idea where I’m going, but I also often lose sight of things that are important. I am the prodigal son as he demands his inheritance when I take my gifts, talents, and passions and use them exclusively for self-promotion and personal gain. I am the prodigal son as he squanders his money when I over-invest myself in clubs and organizations with the intention building my resume. I am the prodigal son as he longs to eat from the pig trough when I allow myself to prioritize earthly pleasures and successes over the deep joy found in genuine fellowship and friendship.

And “dead.” How often do we find ourselves dormant in our faith? In our relationships? In our lives? I see the Lenten season as a challenge for action. So let us come ALIVE this Lenten season. Let us turn that love, compassion, and humility the father has for his sons to our own brothers and sisters. Our father is waiting with open arms. He celebrates our return.

“My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.” – Thomas Merton

Meg Buckley is a junior in the College of Public Health and Social Justice.

Reflection for Friday, March 6, 2015

Friday of the Second Week of Lent
GN 37: 3-4, 12-13A, 17B-28A
PS 105: 16-17, 18-19, 20-21
MT 21: 33-43, 45-46

During Lent, I usually find myself rather reflective, which often turns into me asking a lot of questions of God through prayer. Sometimes these are questions out of curiosity, sometimes out of frustration, sometimes simply seeking to learn. In reading today’s text of the parable of the vineyard and tenants from Matthew 21, I find ample opportunity to ask questions!

At the first reading (or maybe the fourth, fifth, or sixth read-through!), I’m left with a lot of questions—who do the servants, tenants, and landlord represent? What is Jesus’ point here? What am I supposed to take from this passage? Which people in the parable might I be reflecting in my life right now?

As I understand it, Jesus uses this parable to talk to Jewish religious leaders of the time (demonstrated here as the tenants) and it seems he shows them where they are rejecting prophets (represented by the servants sent to the tenants) God has sent to teach. When they don’t seem to get it, Jesus says to the religious leaders, “The Kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that will produce its fruit” (Matthew 21: 43).

Harsh words? Potentially, yet Jesus’ invitation is the same today—be a people that will produce fruit. What does this mean for us? How are we leading lives that share the good news of Christ with others and invite them to know God? Where might we be rejecting that which God is setting forth for us? How might we seek to understand?

Clearly, my reflections usually end up with more questions than answers. However, these questions invite me into a greater depth of faith. Asking questions can be tough. By the very nature of questions, I must admit that I don’t have the answers, something I think we, as humans and in today’s culture, sometimes find hard to do. Yet, a willingness to engage with questions can provide interesting insights and opportunities to grow in faith. So, I invite you into reflection this Lenten season and to ask questions!

Becky Carlson is a Career Development Specialist with Career Services in the Student Success Center. 

Reflection for Thursday, March 5, 2015

Thursday of the Second Week of Lent

JER 17: 5-10

PS 1: 1-2, 3, 4 AND 6

LK 16: 19-31

Believe in yourself! Do it yourself! Help yourself! MYAccount, MySLU, IPad, Ithis, I that…Lots of focus on the self in the daily language, information systems and gadgets we use to take care of ourselves and make things just the way we want them…as long as we follow the system that some faceless expert has set up for us!

Our Lenten readings from the Liturgy today give a good chance for us to snap out of this constantly human temptation to become self-reliant and tune out the reality of God and others, especially the weak and vulnerable who are standing just beyond the borders of our particular instances of “Me, myself and I.”

The barren bush, standing in the desert amidst the lava waste- here is the comparison to the human heart that turns away from the Lord and chooses self-reliance instead.

God who is love desires to break through these barriers of selfishness. Those who are poor and vulnerable have a particularly “blessed” way of doing this in the plan of God. Encounter with the poor, like in the story of Lazarus and the Rich Man, is one of the ways that God seeks to pierce our self-satisfied hearts. And yet sometimes even those encounters are not poignant enough to break through. The Rich Man in the Gospel remained deaf to the call of the Lord through the misery and sores of Lazarus. May we not remain deaf to that same call to come out of ourselves in love for the weak among us this Lent!

Fr. Chris Collins, SJ is Assistant Professor of Systematic Theology in the Department of Theological Studies.

Reflection for Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Wednesday of the Second Week of Lent

JER 18: 18-20

PS 31: 5-6, 14, 15-16

MT 20: 17-28

In this season, life can sometimes seem too difficult; it requires of us a courage and dedication to work that can feel exhausting. We know this as students, faculty and staff buckling down during midterms week, preparing for the freedom and rest of Spring Break. We know this as Christians tightening our belts and making good on our Lenten promises (or at least doing our best!) two weeks into the season, preparing for the celebration and victory of Easter. Sometimes these burdens can have us asking for reminders of why we carry them, seeking some solace so small as the breath of a warm breeze or the kindly smile of a close friend.

This is part of the message of today’s readings. Jeremiah comes before the Lord incredulous that the very people he has taken pains to protect are planning his downfall. The psalmist hears “the whispers of the crowd, that frighten me from every side, as they consult together against me, plotting to take my life” (Ps 31:14). Like us, these narrators encounter struggle and difficulty, thanklessness and enmity; they pour themselves out and are met with failed plans, less-than-stellar results and obstructive criticism.

In the reading from Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus has no delusions of an easy or carefree Christian life. After predicting His passion for the third time, He is asked that James and John sit at His right and left in the Kingdom. Jesus immediately asks them, “Can you drink the cup that I am going to drink?”, to which they respond, “We can” (Mt 20:22). Herein lies the key to the first part of the message: an authentic Christian life takes a boldness and a grit that takes on inconveniences and challenges big and small (which surely will come) in pursuit of something greater.

But, to be sure, it is tempting to take this genuine charge of taking up our daily cross and get caught up in the grandeur, the magnitude of this mission. At its best, it is inspiring; at its worst, it is either discouraging or self-aggrandizing. Standing in the face of these latter two risks is the equal call to tenderness and humility. That is the second part of the message: that patience, meekness, mercy and joy, just as much a part of our Christian mission as “the big stuff”. Jeremiah reminds God that he “stood before you to speak in [my people’s] behalf, to turn away your wrath from them” (Jer 18:20); the psalmist’s refrain reads “save me, O Lord, in your kindness” (Ps 31:17). Sharing in these “small things” with God and other people is how we heal and are healed, and part of how we fulfill our vocation to spread Truth.

We are called to boldness and grit. We are called to tenderness and humility. As we courageously carry our burdens in pursuit of His kingdom, let us treat one another in all gentleness and mercy, serving each other and seeking intimate friendship with God.


Beau Guedry is a junior studying Biology and minoring in Philosophy and Catholic Studies.

Reflection for Tuesday, March 3, 2015

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

How many times have we heard our parents tell us to practice what they preach?  I was very fortunate to have two wonderful parents who were outstanding examples of how to be good and caring people while living their Catholic faith.  Both of my parents attended Mass daily and received the sacraments often.  We never started a meal without saying grace.  Christ was certainly up front and center in our family.  I hope that I will continue to practice what they preached by their example.

Today’s Gospel tells of those folks who preach but do not practice, and their works are performed to be seen.  I’m sure we all know people in our lives that live that way today.  As I get older (I just celebrated my 60^th birthday in January) I’m less impressed by money or stature than I was at 30.  I really don’t know if that is due to my age or having more time to contemplate what I saw as an example by my parents.  

I’m also finding it interesting as to what I am now impressed with or how I want to spend my time.  I value time with family and friends much more at this stage of life.  When I was younger, as a single mother of two daughters, I was convinced that I had to work hard to support my family often working late or on weekends.  It seemed like there was always something that had to be fixed or that I had to take care of and needed extra money for.  I was seeing some of my friends traveling, or getting mini-vans (a dream of mine was to own a mini-van to easily transport my children and their friends) and I was having difficulty keeping my 10 year old car working.  I was often envious of what others had instead of realizing the blessings in my own life.  

I now spend four evenings a week on home hemodialysis.  My women friends…some from high school and some from other places on my life journey...come to visit with me while I’m on the dialysis machine.  While I can’t say that I enjoy being hooked up to a machine four nights a week to serve as my kidney, I can tell you that the time spent catching up with friends has been so very life giving and enjoyable.  I’m also amazed at how willing these wonderful women are who give up three or so hours to come be with me while I dialyze.

My mother was always encouraging me to slow down and enjoy life.  She was my preached example of valuing family and friends.  My life has forced me to slow down so that I can appreciate it!  Hopefully this Lent, we can all slow down to decide how best to include Christ in our lives and appreciate the many blessings we are given each day.

Mary Beth Erickson is Parish Center Administrator at St. Francis Xavier College Church.

Reflection for Monday, March 2, 2015

Monday of the Second Week of Lent

DN 9: 4B-10

PS 79: 8, 9, 11 AND 13

LK 6: 36-38

But yours, O Lord, our God, are compassion and forgiveness!

Today’s reading from Daniel talks about the sins we as humans have committed towards God and our fellow brothers and sisters, and the unwavering compassion that God shows us. How great is our God, who is merciful and compassionate? This Lenten season is a season of repentance and renewal, where we are encouraged to examine how we might better live out our covenant with our God who forgives and replenishes our spirit. Growing up, I never realized how beautiful of a season Lent was. For forty days we are invited to more deeply look at and cherish our relationship with God with the realization that through Him we find peace and unity.

Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.

Today’s Gospel talks about living in a way that glorifies and imitates God. Stop judging and you will not be judged. Stop condemning and you will not be condemned. Give and gifts will be given to you. I think that this is a wonderfully encouraging message because it asks us to treat our brothers and sisters in Christ the way that God treats us. There have been times when I have been quick to judge and slow to forgive, and through prayer, contemplation, and messages like the readings today, I’ve realized that seeing and treating people through God’s eyes and with God’s hands is a mutually uplifting and rejuvenating experience. How great of a place could this world be if we saw people through God’s loving eyes?

I think that another message that could follow from the Gospel today is “love others and you will be loved.” I believe that deep down, the most humbling and human desire is to be loved. That desire connects us all on a beautiful and simple level. What’s so great (and scary) about love is that it’s not measured by how much of it we have, but by how much of it we give. I think that too often, we allow ourselves to forget to love others due to being busy, stressed, or tired. That has the risk of creating an image of indifference. Pope Francis suggests that more than anything, we fast from indifference to others this Lenten season.

I think we can all agree that the SLU community experienced a turbulent semester this Fall. The events that took place on and around campus brought to light issues and feelings that have existed in St. Louis for many years, and all people on and around campus have experienced feeling unloved or indifference towards them or their opinions. This Lenten season, what if we committed more than anything to give freely of our love and interest in others, no matter how similar or different we are to them, by seeing each other through our God’s loving eyes? 

For the measure with which you measure will in return be measured out to you.

JP Ideker is a senior studying Health Management and Spanish.

Reflection for Sunday, March 1, 2015

Second Sunday of Lent

GN 22: 1-2, 9A, 10-13, 15-18

PS 116: 10, 15-19
ROM 8: 31B-34

MK 9: 2-10

“I believed, even when I said ‘I am greatly afflicted.’”

The psalmist has moved even deeper into the place Abraham found himself – when Abraham said yes to God.

“Take your son, whom you love, and offer him up… on a height I will point out to you.” As a father, I cannot fathom how Abraham could hear these words, and keep listening. Who has this strength? This faith?

The Torah says God put Abraham to the test. Surely Abraham passed the test. But what trauma rested in his heart before? And after? And could Isaac ever smell burning wood and ram’s flesh and not cringe, not feel in his gut, in his deepest memories, the bond father and son forged in testing their faith?

I do not pretend to offer any help on how to respond when God asks such things. I only hope. I hope that if such a test were to come my way, the God who got Abraham and Isaac through that day would visit me. I hope this God would help, would be with me, because I cannot trust myself in any test.

Who is against us? God goes as deep as the most terrible place we might find ourselves. This God, the psalmist tells us, loosens our bonds.

What did the disciples make of the visit they experienced on the height Jesus pointed out to them? “It is good to be here.” But then, Peter started talking nonsense. He was terrified. I do not pretend to offer any more than Peter said.

The Lord told his disciples not to try to relate what they had seen. But after he was risen, they would have much to say. They didn’t understand him then. But after he was risen, they would find him touching the deepest places, putting wonder and shouting where the deepest fears had been. The Son of Man, the scriptures reveal, loosens our bonds.


Dan Finucane is Associate Professor of Theological Studies.