Holy Mass - 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time-2020

Isaiah 5:1–7
Philippians 4:6–9
Matthew 21:33–43

Vineyards are in the news these days. But the news is not good. The wildfires have approached and burned down and out some of the well-known vineyard areas of our country in Napa and Sonoma Valleys, California. It is a loss for the vineyard owners who had restaurants and guest houses on these vineyards and a loss for those of us who enjoyed drinking the vintage from these vineyards.

And vineyards are in the news we hear from the Scriptures today as well. And for both vineyards we are asked to visit in the parables given us, the news seems not always to be so cheerful as the drink that comes from these vineyards implies. But, if vineyards are not part of our immediate experience here today, then look closely at the stories. Harvest is very much a part of our stories today. And harvest we know firsthand these days. It features in household conversation. And there is harvest language in abundance in our stories: for these stories are about yield, produce, fruit. Two vineyards are offered us today. They are both parables inviting us to be part of the experience. But upon an attentive listening the stories have their own nuances.

Isaiah offers us a poem a friend of God sings of God’s vineyard. It starts out as a love poem but ends up on a very discordant note, a sour note we might say, literally and figuratively. We first hear about the love God has for his vineyard. God has shown tender love for his vineyard, a vineyard we know is an image for his own people. He spaded it, cleared it and planted it with choicest vines. God has invested himself in this vineyard, he has shown tender love for his people. He has spared nothing in time and labor. He did not hire anyone else to do the work; he did it himself. He protected his people so that others would do it no harm. He got everything ready for the harvest, even building a special wine press. We could ask ourselves if we even notice God’s loving care in our lives. God is nurturing us the chosen and choicest vine and giving us opportunities to bear fruit—for us as individuals and also for us as a believing community, the church. So what have I or we done with God’s nurturing care, with his opportunities for doing good?

When the time came for the harvest, the narrator says, the vintner found only sour grapes. The tone of his love song changes. We hear a cry from the heart: What more could I have done for my vineyard? What more could I do? How many a parent has not uttered the same when after years of nurturing, educating and coaxing, a child goes in a very different direction. How often have we heard that lament from a parent: Where did I go wrong, what did I forget to do? This lament is born of love. The same for our God over his community.

For Isaiah it is clear in the parable: it is the vineyard itself that has gone wrong, not the vintner, not the God of his people. The poem ends up saying that the community in some way resisted what God was cultivating it to be. It produced wild grapes. It did not take to the love and care that had been shown it. The community was under the care of God but in the end it distorted that care. In the poem God makes it very clear where the failure lies. For when God came looking for the yield of his vineyard what did he expect to find: judgment and justice he says. This is fruit that the God of Israel expected to find in a people that were his very own.

Justice for Isaiah, justice in God’s covenantal relationship means fair and equitable relationships in the community. God is about justice and those who belong to God are also to be about his justice. This justice looks like honest dealings among members. Justice is lacking, then, when one group of people take advantage of a weaker group; justice is lacking when no space is given for a word from those who are down and out; justice is failing when labor is reduced to profit and not the enhancement of a worker’s dignity and self worth. And justice is gone when the poor and vulnerable of any kind are no longer even seen but rather passed over or passed by or worse, kept out; and justice is not about tearing down my name, my honor to make you look strong for injustice is found in words as much as in action.

All that says the poet is nothing but a vineyard of wild grapes, sour grapes. Over that, God laments. The justice he has come looking for in the community he nurtured, he sees and hears has turned into bloodshed and shouts of violence. Isaiah, like his fellow prophets knows what that means; it means collapse of the community. A community belonging to God that does not reflect God’s justice is not a community in the truth.

Isaiah’s parable about the vineyard gone wild and sour puts us on notice. If we are serious about being the people of God, then we need to heed the spading, the clearing and the planting of the best that our God is doing with us. No matter how you read Isaiah’s parable or Jesus’ parable, the end is a judgment on our life now. And the judgement is whether we are true to our identity as the people who belong to God. The judgement is one we actually determine by our remaining within the framework of the covenant Jesus has renewed in his death and resurrection. And that covenant will always have at is heart a care for the other, a concern for the one who has lost their voice and their place in the human family. You were a slave and I freed you. You were dead and I brought you to life. That is our God’s clearing and spading. He cannot force us to accept what he has done for us; that is our part of the work of bearing fruit. But he has given us a word and example how it is to be done and that it can be done. The Father has given us the Son, rejected and scorned, to be the foundation of the community of the new covenant.

Between our vineyard parables, we hear Paul offering a word of encouragement to his favorite and beloved community at Philippi. He is speaking of the kind of fruit that will mark their community. In truth, he is perhaps giving us a view as to what our fruit can look like. He offers it to us to taste: “Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise..think about these things…then the God of peace will be with you” (Phil 4:8–9).

This is the kind of fruitful community we long for—for ourselves, our church and our country. Let us recognize this fruit the Father of the vineyard is nurturing in us and make it our own…then there will be shalom, peace—then the Father’s love will have borne fruit.

~ Prior, Fr. Joel Macul, OSB


Anniversary of the Dedication of the Priory Chapel

Isaiah 56:1, 6–7
Ephesians 2:19–22
John 4:19–2

We are all a little more sensitive to worship spaces these days. Some have been open; others have been open but not for major celebrations with many people. Then there are the restrictions of numbers and distance. Even today, when we are to be celebrating the anniversary of the dedication of the monastery chapel as a place of prayer and sacrament, we cannot gather in it. It is in reality the feast day of that sacred place, the anniversary when that place became a place dedicated to our God. Yet it will not hold us for the Eucharist today. Our space is too small for distancing. We have to celebrate some of that feast day keeping distance from the very place where for over forty years the monastic community and its guests have prayed and met the Lord.

We have heard a lot about buildings and structures in our Word today: house of prayer, temple, sacred place, dwelling place, foundation, structure, capstone. It would seem, at first glance, to reinforce the importance of sacred buildings where people of faith can gather before God and with one another. It is as though in these special places a presence dwells and is held and God and Jesus become localized. And so we do want them to be beautiful for our God and Father.

Maybe it is a good thing that during this pandemic we must keep our distance from the very sacred dwellings we have grown accustomed to. In this way another understanding of these sacred spaces comes to light. Listen carefully to what Jesus has to say about the treasured sacred places of his tradition and time: The days are coming when true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth. You won’t need the Holy City Jerusalem or its temple or for the Samaritans to whom he is talking, Mt Gerazim and its temple. What Jesus says is that it is not the buildings that hold the worshiper in place. Rather, it is life in the Spirit that binds those who worship the Father. And the Spirit is not limited to place and space. The Spirit brings together all those who are in relationship to the Father. The sacred place, the place to worship is in the Spirit that was breathed upon us by Jesus and who was poured into our hearts at baptism. It is living in the Spirit that holds us to Jesus and to the Father. ……And the other binding force among worshipers is the truth. And the truth is quite simple: that Jesus is the Father’s Son. Worship is in fact an acknowledgement that the Father and the Son are living with us in the Spirit. Ultimately, if we want to see what this ‘building’ that holds us worshipers looks like, then Jesus simply tells us, wash one another’s feet. That is how I have loved you and that is how I will know that you are a true worshiper of the Father.

Jesus says that the Father is looking for such people who know the meaning of love because they are living in the Spirit and truth. The building or the temple is physical, but its physicality is in the relationships we have with the Father and in the way we lay down our lives for one another. That can be seen and touched. And when we are doing that, we are in something beautiful.

Paul makes a similar point while staying close to using structural images like foundation and capstone. Jesus is the capstone, he is the point of unity holding us together. His energy, his love, and saving death are the key that holds all in place. The Church is about people living in the truth of Christ. What is marvelous in Paul’s image of the community is that we are in process. We are growing into a temple sacred to the Lord; we are being built together into a dwelling place. The building is not yet finished; we are part of making it happen. If we thought the Church was set and finished, Paul gives us hope today. The process is ongoing. Each of us is still being built into a relationship with one another with Jesus as the capstone; we are leaning into him.

For Paul the coming together in Christ was a coming together of Jew and Gentile. An old faith community and a new faith community in which all are fellow citizens. Once Christ is the binding presence, then our distinctions no longer alienate us from the other but become part of the new whole that is being built by God. What we think can separate us from one another can come together in Christ. What seemed so disparate, so distant from others now becomes part of the household of God. There are no second-class citizens, there are only citizens and members of God’s household. Our community membership is not based on our criteria but on that of being aligned to the capstone that is Christ. That will make us into a real dwelling place for God.

Isaiah could not make God’s criteria any clearer. “My house is to be called a house of prayer for all peoples.” God seeks and God chooses not to be exclusive but to be inclusive. Our God is looking for foreigners and strangers to come to him. He is looking for the extended family. We may gather normally in limited space. But God’s point is the space is not limited because the Spirit of God is not limited.

Perhaps it is a blessing that we are not gathered in the very house of God whose dedication we celebrate today. We are fasting from that space so that we can grasp the breadth of God’s vision for those who make up the community of believers, the community of worshipers. Today we are to think of the Church as a gathering space in the Spirit where the Father’s love is active and alive. We are really celebrating the gift of the relationship we have with the Father through the Son. A gift manifested by living in the Spirit. It is the Spirit who weaves us all together as citizens of the one family obeying the command of love that works the justice of our God.

Prior, Fr. Joel Macul, OSB

Holy Mass - 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time-2020

Jeremiah 20:7–9
Romans 12:1–2
Matthew 16:21–27

“You duped me, O Lord, and I let myself be duped.” Thus Jeremiah begins his lament to God. The pathos in Jeremiah’s lament is clear and strong. What is translated here as ‘duped’ might better be rendered as ‘enticed’ or ‘seduced.’ God called him to be a prophet to tear down and to plant. But what has happened is that most of his words are about tearing down and destroying. The word of God forces him to speak of violence and outrage. His vocation was basically to tell the people and the religious leaders that their behavior has led to the end of the temple and with it the whole structure of their society.

But Jeremiah is no outsider. He is part of the community, part of its heritage. His pain is that he must speak about the death of what he loves and has committed himself to. Because he spoke about the destruction of the temple, temple officials jailed him. He is eventually released and gives voice to his pain as we hear. We can feel how he wants to belong and be accepted, but instead he is laughed at, mocked, and derided all the time. That is all he hears from those around him. Living with that, he turns to God who sent him this hard word in the first place. God does not appear to be too accommodating or relieving of Jeremiah’s pain. The pain is the pain of being faithful to the very word that the Lord wants Jeremiah to speak. Being faithful to that word of the Lord in the face of authority figures leads to rejection and ridicule. What you say, prophet, cannot be happening to us! You are supposed to speak of good things from God, not destruction and the end of our lives! Who wants to hear that the way we are living will lead to our demise, our end? No wonder Jeremiah was thrown into jail or into an empty cistern. Shut up. No wonder Jesus was led away to be crucified. He too was critical of the way the Torah was being lived and its heart hollowed out.


Jeremiah knows his options. He says, well, I will stop talking. In other words, I will withdraw into myself. I will nurture myself on my own terms and not be told what to do by anyone, even the Lord God. I will choose what to say and when. I will simply leave God out of anything I say, then I’ll be Ok and all those laughing at me will stop…But that option won’t work. God’s word becomes like fire. It has taken over his heart. It is true; he has been seduced by God but that seduction is a part of his vocation. I have to speak the truth. A heart on fire with God’s word. That is Jeremiah. That too is Jesus. Jeremiah is true to his vocation to the end, a bearing of the word. Think of all those Christians who spoke the hard word of truth and suffered for it, were killed for it—in our day.

The Jesus story. Last Sunday when we gathered, we heard the wonderful response of Peter confessing Jesus as Messiah and Son of the Living God. The same living God whose word was fire in Jeremiah’s heart. But before that, Jesus asked his disciples who people were saying Jesus was. The answer he heard was John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah or one of the prophets. Jeremiah was specifically mentioned as a possibility for identifying Jesus. These prophetic figures as identity figures are not denied by Jesus or by Peter. They remain true. It is only Matthew who includes Jeremiah in the list, by the way—and rightfully so as we hear this week. Jesus begins to speak a hard word about what Messiah really means or what the Son of God looks like. He speaks of going up to Jerusalem: not for a feast but for suffering at the hands of authorities, for being killed and then for being raised. Jesus will face the same derision and mockery as Jeremiah. He will be taunted for his words. He will asked to save himself from death. But Jesus too has a fidelity burning in his heart, his faithfulness to the word of the Father, the Living God. He will stay the course to the end.

Peter, unfortunately, is thinking of self-preservation, probably as much for himself as for Jesus. When Jesus responds, he calls Peter a Satan, a tempter for not having God’s story upper most in his heart. Then Jesus lays it out in words so simple: lose your life and you will save it; save it now and you will lose it. It is all about getting oneself out of the way and letting yourself be seduced by God. When you are seduced by God then you will know that your life is always about others. Deny that ego-centered self and get with carrying what suffering there is in your life and then follow me. Losing oneself for Jesus can mean dropping the “I” at the beginning of sentences and speaking of “you,” of the “other.” Jesus went up to Jerusalem “for us”; he lost his “I” giving it up for our sake, and then found himself through this unconditional act of loving to the end; he found himself loved or raised to new life.


Jeremiah preached the end of the temple and the breakup of community because the community had gone off the path; Jesus talks about suffering and being killed. He speaks of death. Only then of being raised up. What is it that you and I have to lose, have to let go of, have to surrender, in order to live so as to be raised up. Our cross is perhaps that struggle of having to come to terms with what I have to let go of. Each of us has a different cross, a different struggle with our false self. It is the same for our church community or society. What needs to die so that the truth of God and his love will come forth? What about life together needs to be seen differently? Paul speaks of this process as a transformation, as a renewal of mind. He also makes it clear it will not necessarily be “this age” that will be the model for us.

Ultimately, the road marked out by Jesus, our Messiah, will be the way forward. For that to happen, it will mean shedding a lot of what I have built up, so that my heart and our world can be saved. It is even possible that the days of pandemic are already giving us a clue at where our minds need to be renewed and what word our hearts really need to hear.
Jesus is not forcing anything on us. He says “if you wish.” This is not a command But, if you desire to be part of me, this is what it means—denying an “I” of my making to be saved for an “I” determined by being for others. What do we wish for? Who do we wish to follow? …Let us remember: the models of “this age” do not go far enough!

Prior, Fr. Joel Macul, OSB

Homily - Fr. Joel - 07/26/2020

Fr. Joel’s Homily for the 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time.

1 Kings 3:5, 1–12
Romans 8:28–30
Matthew 13:44–52

Can you imagine if God appeared to you in a dream and made you an offer: “Ask something of me and I will give it to you.” —What would you ask for? What will your response say about your deepest desire or need? These days our response might be different than it would have been a few months ago. We might ask for an end to this pandemic, some might say for our country, some might say for our world. For someone struggling with a job, the focus might be on employment or more money to get through. We might ask for cure for people we know with the pandemic. Some might simply ask for things to get back to normal. Others might look at another aspect of our lives these days and ask for a way forward out of our racism. These might be asking not for something material but for a change of heart, a new vision of the human person, for humility.

Today we hear Solomon’s answer to God’s offer: “Ask something of me and I will give it.” His response reflects his current situation–he is young and finds himself in leadership. He is looking ahead to the future. What will he need? His response includes the admission that “I do not know how to act.”  These days, when the overall situation of our lives is unsettled and uncertain, we can easily see ourselves saying the same thing. I am not sure what to do? I am treading in ways that are partially uncertain. We can join Solomon in asking “Give us an understanding heart….give us wisdom because we are very fragile at the moment.”

Solomon is the classical wisdom figure of the Bible. He and wisdom go hand in hand. It is important to remember that it was a gift to him from the Lord. It was not something he created on his own. His honest assessment of his situation led him to ask for it. His honesty was met with the gift of an understanding heart and wisdom. We would do well to do more than admire Solomon. We would do well to pray for an understanding heart and wisdom for ourselves. Some might even go further and ask for leadership to be given wisdom and an understanding heart–—leaders in our Church, leaders in our civil and political society, leaders in the business and economic forum.

Solomon was looking toward the future. And God responded by giving him what was needed for the future: a heart of understanding and wisdom. When God gives gifts for the future it not material wealth, long life, power over people, victory over opposition, success. What God gives is something for the heart. God’s gift for the human heart will reflect his own heart—a heart that seeks to understand, a heart that has a profound knowledge and love of others and wants to support them, a heart for justice and truth, a heart that seeks to bring humanity together, a heart that knows what is the good in the hearts of others. We hear that echoed today in Paul when he says that those whose hearts are set on God will be working to bring the good that is there out into the open. This working for goodness, he says, was God’s plan from the beginning. Receiving wisdom is becoming a partner in that plan to weave all things into his glory.

Jesus’ parables offer us two images of what wisdom looks like. Wisdom is a treasure, hidden, waiting to be found. Wisdom is like a pearl waiting for us to buy it. The activity in the parables is the activity of a person readying themselves for wisdom. You search for it seek it and you find it….sometimes it is hidden at first, sometimes it jumps out at you. And when it appears you do all you can to get hold of it and you don’t let it go. And when you find this wisdom and understanding, she will become your joy. (See Sirach 6:27–28).

In the well-known parables, we find wisdom is life in the Kingdom. The Kingdom is not so much a territory or place, a situation of power, but a way of life, the way God has put in front of us….Some might understand the treasure and the pearl as Christ himself. For him, we will give up everything to become part of him. Or as Paul puts it today, committing oneself to the treasure is a way of conforming yourself to the image of God’s Son. Christ is the pearl which I buy not to possess it but to be possessed by him in joy.

Wisdom is a gift, a treasure I discover and pearl I find. Wonderful! But once in front of me, there is something I must do. I must acquire what I have found—this wisdom, this treasure of the Kingdom. But to acquire or buy, I must first sell. I must look at what has been there, the old that Jesus speaks about. And some of those old needs, beliefs and behaviors have to be set aside. These old parts of myself would hold me back from entering fully into the new that I have discovered and are working toward accepting. I need to see them off, I need to lose them. Only then will the new become a joy and will the work of conforming myself into the image of Christ take hold.

It is quite possible that our experience of the pandemic will call up the gift of wisdom. The pandemic, for all the upsetting it causes, may reveal another layer of our humanity that seeks to be found. The way forward may mean letting go of that old that has not been working for the good. It may well be that we will become more aware of our shared humanity as a real treasure to be held and loved and cared for. We may discover that what we walked over and disregarded, whether it be mother earth or the stories of fellow humans, contains pearls beyond price.

Each of us still in the process of seeking, selling and buying. The gospel affirms us in this process for it is a process that comes from an understanding heart. It will mean walking with old and new. And its goal will—a humanity conformed to the image of Christ. He, we believe, is the first born of a new family of many brothers and sisters—the treasure that our God saw and knew from the beginning.

 

Canterbury Chalice - by Fr. Adam

In 2017 I was blessed to have a sabbatical to study Spiritual Direction in England.

Specifically in Canterbury.  Canterbury is the place that St. Augustine chose to settle his mission to bring Christianity to the Pagan Kingdom of Kent in the 7th Century.  It later became famous as the pilgrimage place following the martyrdom of Thomas Becket.  Until the reformation there were at least two Benedictine Monasteries of Men in Canterbury: Christ Church Priory (Cathedral), and St. Augustine’s Abbey (outside the wall of the city).  The place was home to many saints, among them  St. Augustine, St. Anselm, St. Mellitus, and St. Thomas Becket.

This chalice set was given to me for my 25th anniversary of ordination by the Reverend David Lord and his wife Lyn.  David is an Anglican priest who studied spiritual direction with me.  He lives and ministers in Perth, Western Australia.  David and Lyn flew all the way from Australia to celebrate my jubilee at our Abbey of Muensterschwarzach.  The chalice set is decorated with the Canterbury cross.  It is designed after a Saxon brooch dating from around 850 that was found in Canterbury in 1867.

My time in Canterbury was very rewarding and I feel I came away with some great insights into my own spiritual path, and with tools to accompany others on their spiritual journeys.  For this reason, and because of the deep Benedictine roots, I feel quite bonded to the place and to people who walked with me, people like David.  This special gift is a symbol of that bond, of our Ecumenical relationship, and  especially our bond in the Eucharist.

“That in all things God my be glorified!”

16th Sunday in Ordinary Time - 2020

Holy Mass with celebrant Fr. Thomas Leitner, OSB

Mt 13:24-30  
Wis 12:13.16-19   
Rom 8:26-27

Focus: God is patient with us.

Function: We, too, are summoned to be patient with ourselves and others and to leave the final judgment up to God.

Dear sisters and brothers in the faith, it has often been said that we live in a fast-paced age – of fast food and of fulfilling many of our wishes and needs with a few mouse clicks.  While online shopping has even increased, understandably so, during this pandemic, many people are telling me that their life’s pace overall has become slower again.  They do their own cooking at home; they are giving more time to the people with whom they live; they spend more time in nature.  Even here in the monastery we feel this difference. I am devoting more time to prayer, to reading and to my brother monks. This pandemic is an opportunity to learn anew a slower pace, to lean waiting – and to practice patience.

We might say that there is a place for impatience at times, too, and this is true.  When it comes to injustice in society, for example, impatience with unjust structures and practices can be a good thing.  Sometimes we have to protest. At times we have to take a stand in favor of human rights and the dignity of every human person.

Because of this human dignity, because God is never done with any of us until we die, such righteous impatience must be combined with patience, however, in our various human relationships. St. Benedict says in his Rule, the monks are meant “to accept one another’s frailties of body and soul with greatest patience.” (RB 72:5)

The Scripture texts of today’s liturgy speak to us about the patience of God:  “Though you are master of might,” the book of Wisdom’s author says to God,“you judge with clemency, and with much lenience you govern us.”  Instead of condemning people who sin, God grants them opportunities again and again  and again  to repent of the sins they have committed.”

The scandal of God’s patience with wrongdoers appears also in the gospel.  The kingdom of heaven is compared to a farmer who has a serious problem:  His wheat is growing on his field, but there is also a poisonous weed, darnel by name, which can only be distinguished from the wheat when both plants are already tall.  While his servants want to root out the weeds, he tells them to leave them alone, because uprooting the weeds will endanger the wheat.

At the final harvest they will be separated.

My sisters and brothers, God is patient also with us. We, too, are summoned to be patient with ourselves   and others   and to leave the final judgment up to God.

Jesus lived the message of his parable. He made it his task to seek out and to save the lost. The Pharisees, whose name means “the Separated Ones” criticized him for socializing with people whom they considered to be impure and sinners.  However, Jesus knew that good and bad exist in every person and that it is wrong to label a person as a whole as bad.

This encourages each of us personally to trust that there is “good ground for hope,” that we ourselves and others can work at our weakness of body and soul and overcome them.

What today’s Scriptures are telling us is a call in the Church to believe in a person’s ability to change and to repent, even if our relationship with some folks appears to be very stuck!

This message is for us as citizens of the country, among other things, also an argument against the death penalty, for it equals a premature “weeding out” of people. In May 2018, Pope Francis changed the text of the Catechism of the Catholic Church in regard of the death penalty. It now reads, “The death penalty is [always] inadmissible because it is an attack on the inviolability and dignity of the person.” (CCC 2267)   “More effective systems of detention have been developed,” the Catechism continues, “which ensure the due protection of citizens    but, at the same time, do not definitively deprive the guilty of the possibility of redemption.”  This chance and possibility of redemption, of repentance and reform even for hardened criminals come out very clearly in the book and movie Dead Man Walking, by Sr. Helen Prejean. Patrick Sonnier, whom she accompanied to death row, did find God. He started to pray, to read the Bible; and he truly repented of his very heinous crimes.

Let us pray this morning for firm confidence in God’s lenience toward us.  That’s the good news of this gospel: God is patient with us.  And that’s the challenge: We are also called upon to be patient.

~Fr. Thomas Leitner, OSB

4th of July - 2020

Isaiah 57:15–19
Philippians 4:6–9
John 14:23–29

The word we have just heard at the Eucharist on Independence Day has a clear theme—peace. Each text from the Word has highlighted that word and that reality. A word check of the Declaration of Independence, whose promulgation 244 years ago today we recall, contains the word “peace” three times. Each time it is paired with war or a metaphor for war. Needless to say, the peace we wish to remember today at the Eucharist has another meaning. And yet, we know that the classical phrases from the Declaration that quickly come to mind “that all men are created equal” “that they are endowed by the Creator with certain inalienable rights” and that among these are “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” are in reality a clear recognition of and constituent of the peace of which we in the Judeo-Christian community know so well and stand firm in in hope.

We gather today in 2020 with the words of the Prophet, Paul and Jesus and with the words of the Declaration, and we know that in some way we have yet to believe them and allow them to work a transformation in our lives and in the country or polis in which we find ourselves. With the corona pandemic, with the racial injustice and the violence it has stirred, with the uneasiness of some, if not many, government policies, and with difficulty in naming the common good, we are well aware that the human vision of the nation and the Gospel hope of peace, combined as always with justice, is still something we work for. Perhaps Independence Day 2020 is a time to recall what are the essentials that hold us together.

For us who hear the words of the Gospel, it will always be Jesus and the Kingdom that will guide us in giving shape to a peace that holds all together. For us, the Risen Lord will always be the source of unity created from the richness of diversity. And also, we will stand firm in knowing that any fragment or face of peace, justice and unity is above all a gift: “My peace I give to you.” We can declare that we want peace, but it can only come about by recognizing that it is held out to us as a gift from the one who can bind us into one Body, one people. True wholeness and peace can only happen when we are joined to the source of that peace, unity and shalom.

St. Paul today asks us to consider and think about whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, gracious and has excellence about it. We can safely say that in the classical words we know from the Declaration, we have heard something that is true, just, lovely and gracious. Where we can recognize any of that in human words and hope, then traces of peace are to be found. The words of the Prophet and Jesus about peace are lifted up and are carried down to our own times that we may live by them and know that in our relationship with Jesus they can become true. True peace is found within a relationship with God who, as the prophet says, is as much on high as he is with the crushed and dejected in spirit. It is found in the relationship with Jesus whose word contains his love for us. Being faithful to his word will keep us in peace.

And should human society falter and forget what is beautiful, just, gracious and true, then we are the ones who hold up again the banner that says they are still here: we are created in God’s image and in that is our equality in diversity; we are created for life, which flows from God and is found in our relationships with others; we are created for freedom—a freedom that unbinds us from any kind of slavery and restores us to a dignity that comes from within, from the Spirit implanted in our hearts.

We rightly give thanks today for any trace of God’s Kingdom and justice that the human heart has recognized and spoken about. We also want to remain firm in that longing for justice and authentic freedom which we believe is truly the goal of humanity. May the Word that speaks to us today of peace challenge us into pursuing it as the psalmist says and St. Benedict confirms. And may we again declare that Christ is the light that guides our feet into way of peace.

~Prior, Fr. Joel Macul, OSB


12th Sunday in Ordinary Time-2020

Jeremiah 20:10-13
Romans 5:12–15
Matthew 10:26–33

The word we have heard today is rather ominous in its tone. Jeremiah hears words of personal attack against him. He is being persecuted for what he has said. Paul brings us back to the origins of humanity when he speaks of sin and death entering the world and affecting all humanity. And Jesus speaks to his disciples about those who can kill both body and soul. Like Jeremiah, Jesus’ disciples know the fear of persecution for speaking the truth about the Kingdom.

But the lament of Jeremiah, the death humanity finds itself in and the fear of Jesus’ disciples in the face of persecution, are also balanced by words of trust in God and a promise of God’s commitment to those who are faithful. Particularly difficult moments and moments of fear are not the last word no matter how ominous the situation is whether it is Jeremiah, Jesus or Jesus’ followers or humanity itself.

As we listen to Jeremiah today we find him and Israel in one of the most difficult moments of Israel’s history. Jeremiah had a hard message to give and often did it with symbolic actions. He has just bought a clay jar and was told to bring the elders and priests along with him and the clay jar outside the city to the city garbage dump. There he smashed the clay pot to pieces and told the gathering that was what was to happen to them. The superpower of the day, Babylon, was coming and was to smash the city and temple down and take off the ruling elite and priests into exile. No one wanted to hear that. The authorities refused to listen to such language. So the temple police chief decided to put Jeremiah in the stocks for a while. Eventually he released him. But the event traumatized Jeremiah and we find him today hearing the voices around him that plan to shut him up, to make sure that his words do not prevail. He has been saying that their world will collapse and they with it. They don’t want to hear that. For it means that their special category of God’s people is also broken. As indeed it is. They have in reality broken the covenant. But who likes to be told that their way is no longer God’s way, that God is moving out on them. But such was Jeremiah’s ministry as a prophet: to say what others think is unspeakable. To say that our world is not just changing, but it is passing and won’t be the same. In the language of today, what you may have experienced as normal will not come back. Jeremiah lives at that critical turning point when the familiar is to be taken away and the future can only be seen through God’s eyes.

But Jeremiah shares with us more than the voices of threat and terror that he hears. In the midst of cries looking for vengeance, he sees God who will champion him, who will not let those who refuse to heed and believe his words triumph. We hear him affirm that he has entrusted himself to this champion God and he will leave his case with him. On the human side, Jeremiah is surrounded by voices tearing him down. But in the depths of his heart, he finds words to stand firm in the Holy One of Israel. His stand in the covenantal faith is such that he commits himself to the one who sides with the poor in the midst of being set upon. Jeremiah may lament his experience and perhaps put his hands over his ears so he doesn’t hear whisperings against him. But Jeremiah opens his mouth to speak to God and entrust himself totally into his hands. He cries out for justice but not on his terms, rather on God’s. The world that he and the people know may be coming to an end, but what does not come to an end is the God who knows his heart and knows his faithfulness. The exterior world may collapse but his God knows the inner word of mind and heart. This is where God has spoken to him and from this inner world Jeremiah can call out for justice. We may find it strange but in the midst of a threat on Jeremiah’s life, he can find reason to praise the Lord. His heart is in the covenant God makes with those who are faithful and never cease listening to his word.

Jesus seems to anticipate that his followers may find themselves in a situation where their lives are threatened because they act and speak from a perspective different from the prevailing world, society and culture. He senses their fear. Three times he tells the Twelve: Fear no one, do not be afraid. Jesus knows the crippling power of fear in the face of the unknown, in the face of things falling apart, in the face of losing grip on what is normal. It would be easy to succumb to fear. But Jesus says no. You stand in a new world now, a gracious gift from the Father. Speak about it; let the vision of the Kingdom be heard. Do not be afraid of the truth. It might be painful to hear, like the story of our original sin of racism and slavery. It may be hard to bear, but hiding it and pretending it is not there is only shoring up a world that is distant from the one the Father wants for us his children.

We have a new value system. You think that sparrows are only worth a dime a dozen. You count them in monetary terms. But the Father doesn’t see how cheap they are. What he sees is each time one falls. That touches him. He is moved when a common bird falls. And so does it touch him when any of his children lose just one hair on their head. That is the new value system you stand in—one of caring for the least as though it mattered the most. Why should you fear when you are linked forever in love to one who notices even a thread of your hair.

Jesus asks his followers to stand in the everlasting love that cares for what looks common but is very dear. If we stand in the conviction, in the faith, that our God is such a one who cares for the ordinary, then we can stand without fear in a world that is shifting—a world perhaps that doesn’t want to admit its fear.  But even more, we can even glimpse at what the new world will stand on:

the same fidelity toward the poor,

the truth that breaks open darkness for healing to burst forth,

the mercy that forgoes self-justifying justice,

the love that embraces hearts and minds that both need love

and recognize it when our God touches them ever so gently in a harsh world.

To speak about that world there is no need to fear for the power in such world is transformative and gives life. In that world all lives matter, the common sparrow and each human being.

~Prior, Fr. Joel Macul, OSB

Corpus Christi Sunday-2020

Jn 6:51-58  Dt 8:2-3.14-16  1 Cor 10:16-17

 Focus: God guides and sustains us on the various journeys of our life.

Function: We are called to pay attention to God’s presence and God’s gifts in our lives.

Dear sisters and brothers in the Lord, 0. a. During a directed retreat, I often invite the retreatant to an exercise called “My Spiritual Autobiography.” The retreatant hears the Scriptural message: “I am wonderfully made in the image and likeness of God.  God is ever present in my life and has always been there for me, even when I didn’t realize it.”

Then the retreatant writes down significant events from his/her birth until the present.  Out of these they select one event. They remember the time, and in their imagination enter into the scene. The feelings they recall may not all be positive ones.  Yet they still can ask themselves in prayer: How has God been at work in this situation?  This can be repeated for one or two more scenes.  Remembering the way God has worked in our lives can help us to note God’s presence in the now, to appreciate it, and to experience it anew.

In today’s first reading Moses calls upon the people of Israel to remember.  At the end of their 40 years journey through the desert, Moses tells them to look back. “Remember how…the Lord, your God has directed all your journeying.”   Traveling through the desert, was troublesome: there was hunger and thirst; there were poisonous snakes and scorpions… Yet God, who had led the people out of the land of Egypt, the place of slavery, provided manna for food and water from the flinty rock.

Plus, God guided and strengthened the people by God’s word. They did not live by manna, quail and water alone, but by every word that came forth from the mouth of God.

And now as the people enter into the Promised Land, they can expect a better life.  As prosperity takes the place of want, they are called to continue to remember and not to forget their God:  God’s providential care for them, the guidance, the strength, and the challenge that comes from God.

There are so many gifts that we, too, receive from God. God’s greatest gift to us is his Son Jesus. It was Jesus’ mission to make visible and tangible God’s great love and care for all people. In his ministry he poured himself out for others. Especially he turned to the poor and to those treated unjustly in the society of his time.  This ultimately led to his death on the cross. At the last supper before his passion he gave his original disciples and us today the memorial and the sacrament of his love:  He became the bread that strengthens us on our life’s journey and that stills our deepest hunger.

We celebrate today the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ.  We are being reminded of our deepest truth, namely that in eating the Eucharistic bread and in drinking the cup of blessing we become one with him.   We are being transformed by him.  We receive life from him.  We are invited to imitate him in his self-giving.  And by him we are being united among each other, in spite of all our differences, into one body, into communion, for we all partake in one loaf.

Dear sisters and brothers in the Lord, God guides and sustains us on the various journeys of our life.  We are called to pay attention to God’s presence and God’s manifold gifts in our lives.

It would be a good idea to spend a little time today with recalling our own personal history of salvation. Which events, joyful or more difficult, stand out for me as moments in which God cared for me, strengthen me, bestowed gifts upon me, me guided me, or challenged me?

In a preeminent way God nourishes and strengthens us at the Eucharist.  This happens, on the one hand, the table of the word. We do not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of God. The 2nd Vatican Council said:  “The Church has always venerated the divine Scriptures as she venerated the Body of the Lord.” [Constitution on Divine Revelation 21] God’s word is food for the journey. This time of pandemic is an invitation for all of us to feed at the table of God’s word.

On the other hand, there is the table of the Eucharist. Those who are not able yet at this point to attend Mass in person are invited to an act of spiritual communion.  When Holy Communion is being distributed for those physically present those who watch at home can unite themselves spiritually with Christ in the Eucharist.

Unified by Christ at the Eucharist in one body we are invited to build unity actively in our world. The racial tensions in our country, including the violence in which they also expressed themselves, have brought to our attention anew how important it is to take new steps in this regard, like giving the other person the benefit of the doubt, paying more attention to commonalities then to differences, noticing our prejudices and generalizations, making cross racial friends… These are just a few examples of how we can build unity actively.

Let me conclude with a prayer by the late Sr. Macrina Wiederkehr:  "O God of so much giving, my true life is all around me and within me. Life surrounds me and embraces me. Open the windows of my eyes.  Take away the veil that prevents me from seeing the simple treasures [your gifts] that are in my reach." [The Flowing Grace of Now]   AMEN.

    ~Fr. Thomas Leitner, OSB

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