7th Sunday of Easter

Jn 17:11b-19
Acts 1:15-26
John 4:11-16

Focus: Jesus desires our unity and our connectedness with him.
Function: Through his Holy Spirit, he empowers and enables us to be his witnesses.

Dear brothers and sisters in the faith,

A journalist writes about his visit in a high security federal prison: I saw the tired, expressionless faces of the prisoners who walked around in pairs in the inner courtyard, one group ten steps behind the next. “There are quite a number of gifted people among them,” the guard said who accompanied me with his large key chain. “The short one over there for instance paints great pictures!” Then in the office he showed me a painting in vivid colors: twelve men gaze upward with a startled look, their hair disheveled by the wind, their faces bathed in shining light, their eyes wide-open and unusually big. The guard remarked, “He calls this picture Pentecost. He did is for our prison chapel. But they don’t allow him to put it up because he only painted other inmates,
actually the worst ones, the real criminals!”

Later I could talk with the artist. “I find your picture exiting,” I began, “But why did you paint inmates? The folks of the first Pentecost were all converted people!” He responded somewhat exited, “At Pentecost everything changed, though! The pious ones don’t need this insight so much.
But one had to show to those who have given up on themselves that a new beginning is possible,
that through this power sinners can be turned around radically!” I did not let up: “But why did you pick out the worst of your fellow inmates?”

“Pentecost is a miracle,” he replied. “The little sinners can be changed by their own wives, sometimes even through prison.But the very big ones—only God can change.” I noticed how he wrestled with himself. He pointed to one spot of the painting without any words. Only then I noticed that he had painted himself there. “The real big ones only God can change,” he repeated.

Today’s gospel is a prayer of Jesus for his disciples and – as the verse immediately following today’s passage says – also for those who believe in him through their word. He prays that they may be given what he has with his heavenly Father: unity. In prayer form, Jesus touches again on what he had said earlier in these Farewell Discourses, namely that it’s necessary for believers to keep his word and command and to remain, to abide, to stay in his love. Only a branch that is connected to the vine can bear fruit. If it is cut off it will wither and die. He prays that God may keep them, who will continue to live in this world, from the power of the evil one.

In this prayer a person can feel the anguish, love and concern that Jesus has for his disciples, He knows that if they speak the same words of truth that he spoke they will experience opposition as he did. They will be faced with incomprehension, ridicule and persecution.

Today’s first reading tells us about the days before the first Pentecost. The apostles, Mary and some other disciples spend most of this time in the upper room, in prayer waiting for “the promise of the Father,” for the coming down upon them of the Holy Spirit with its power.

As we just heard, Peter announced during these days to a larger group of disciples that it’s necessary for Judas to be replaced as one of the Twelve. Why is it necessary? The number 12 is symbolic. The 12 apostles represent the 12 tribes of God’s original people. With the apostles as the core, the risen Jesus wants to establish God’s new people all-over the world by sending his disciples to give witness to him: In Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria and to the ends of the earth.

Dear sisters and brothers, Jesus desires also our unity and our connectedness with him. Through his Holy Spirit, he empowers and enables us to be his witnesses.

So many things appear to be impossible or nearly impossible, humanly speaking: the breaking of unhealthy and sinful habits in our own lives, unity of Christians in spite of and in the midst of all the diversity with is good, unity even within our Church, standing up together for gospel values in a politically divided country and in a secularized society, proclaiming the Gospel message in countries
where Christians are persecuted… All this cannot be done with human strength alone.

The nine days between Ascension and Pentecost are a time of waiting and praying for the Holy Spirit, whom Christ has sent and sends to us ever anew, The Holy Spirit, who heals our wounds renews our strength, washes the stain of guilt away, melts the frozen, warms the chill and guides the steps that go astray.

Like the prisoner and artist in our story we, too, may hope in the Holy Spirit’s transforming power – within us and in others. Even the real big sinners God can change. Let’s pray today and throughout next week for ourselves, for our families and friends, for our work places, for our Church and our churches, for our society and for our world – that God may do amazing, miraculous things and bring about a new Pentecost.

AMEN.


5th Sunday of Easter

Acts 9:26–31
1 John 3:18–24
John 15:1–8

Jesus was not afraid of the natural world around him. He used it frequently to describe God-human interaction. He observed its workings and was able to see analogies between plants and animals in the natural world and how life is in the Kingdom of God. Nature is a sacrament and thus holds within it the power to reveal the mystery of God and human beings.

Last Sunday when we gathered, we heard Jesus invoke the experience of sheep and shepherding to help us understand the relationship between himself and his followers, his disciples. It was not just sheep that caught his attention. It was also human involvement with the sheep that is part of the experience of Jesus and ourselves. It was the whole environment: sheep, shepherd, gate, gatekeeper, hireling.

Now Jesus asks us to observe another experience of nature, namely a vine and its branches. He brings in the agricultural world, one that would have been known to his audience and throughout the Mediterranean basin: presumably, he is speaking of grape vines, branches and their fruit, grapes. We know there are other kinds of vines, and some are not so friendly. But again, the center of his image is a relationship between vine and branches. A natural picture of his relationship with those who live by his word. Here too the relationship of Jesus and his disciples is placed in the environment: there is the vine grower, the Father; there is pruning; there is also bearing fruit. As we find in nature there branches that are non-productive, so there is there is burning them after they have been removed. All this Jesus puts in front of us as a help for us to understand how we are in relationship to him and he to us. And he sets that in the bigger picture. Our relationship to Jesus is in the end surrounded and held by the Father. The Father it seems has initiated the vine and branches in the first place. The story begins with him. And it is the Father who, like a normal vine grower, waits for the fruit. The Father has a hope for the relationship between Jesus and his followers. And to make sure that his hope is fulfilled, John tells us that he adds the Spirit into the mixture so that that the grapes will ripen and serve their purpose of making a wine that indeed is the gladness that flows in this relationship between vine and branches.

When Jesus puts the image of vine and branches in front of us, it becomes clear to us branches that our commitment in the relationship is to remain in it as Jesus repeats almost ad nauseam. Remaining in the relationship with Jesus is our task and our mission. Unless we are faithful to the relationship, there will be no fruit. We cannot live on our own. Being human for us means being in a relationship, and for followers of Jesus, it means he is the other half of the relationship. This remains true whether we are thinking of ourselves individually or as Church. Our identity flows from remaining on the vine, or remaining in Jesus. This may not be as easy as it sounds given a culture that prizes individualism and doing it on your own. The basic experience from the vineyard is that if you try it on your own, you fall off. Or more truthfully, you die.

We need to be clear. It is not enough to simply say, “Oh I am in Jesus and Jesus is in me.” As John says today, that’s great speech, but what does it look like. Being in Jesus is not static, it is active. One remains in Jesus so that one grows and produces fruit. The fruit is not there in the beginning. The fruit comes because we stay with it. We allow the process of growth to happen. What feeds that growth process is the word of Jesus. That word of Jesus is the binding force in the relationship. It is the identifying factor. The word Jesus speaks and the word he commands is love. But we know that love is what the Father is all about. He sends his Son out of love and to love. And the Jesus story? It is about laying down one’s life for another. Love reaches its climax in a death for others.

Love is the fruit of Jesus’ life. It becomes the fruit of the vine that he tells us will be poured out for us and for many so that new life may come between us and with the Father. So when we take this image of vine and branches all the way to the end of the process, it means our bearing fruit as well. And love is the fruit we are to bear; it means sacrifice; it means a dying to self and for another. The life the vine gives to the branches is love; it is love that gives Jesus to his branches. It is love that keeps the branches alive and in the process of bearing fruit.

For this process of bearing fruit, we will need to be pruned. Pruning, says Jesus, is an essential element in remaining in him and in bearing fruit. It doesn’t take much imagination for each of us to know what needs to be pruned away in our lives: it is anything that blocks the flow of love from myself to others: prejudices, unwillingness to forgive and let go, selfishness, being judgmental, consuming more than we need, talk that does not build up but cuts down the self-worth of others. We need to remember the command Jesus left us. I am giving you a new commandment, my word, love one another as I have loved you. What needs pruning on our part is anything that blocks that flow of love from Jesus to ourselves to others.

We may sometimes forget that the heart of our belief is love. It really is nothing else. And love as Jesus offers it to us today means nurturing a relationship. It all begins with the Father who does not want to condemn the world, our world. But even for the Father it cannot remain a word, a thought. It must take flesh. And so we profess it does, in Jesus. And for Jesus this love will mean taking up our sin and our death. And filling them instead with the power of love. For us who are a part of his vine, it means that when we are receiving his love we will be bearing fruit in lives through which his love is flowing.

The process is clear; it is a growth process. First, we are just a branch. Then we are a branch on the vine that is Jesus; then we remain in Jesus living by his word to love and then we can be called at the end his disciples. When that happens, the Father’s hope for us is realized: we are his children, yes, all who live by his word and have his love flowing through them.

~Prior, Fr. Joel Macul, OSB



2nd Sunday of Easter-Divine Mercy Sunday

Joh 20:19-31
Acts 4:32-35 1
Joh 5:1-6

focus: Divine Mercy is the Easter gift of the Risen Christ.
function: It can and is meant to transform also our hearts and our lives.

“Humanity will never find peace until it turns with trust to Divine Mercy.” Pope St. John Paul II once made reference to these words of Jesus to St. Faustina and then added: “Divine Mercy! This is the Easter gift that the Church receives from the risen Christ and offers to humanity.” Pope John Paul canonized the Polish nun Sr. Faustina Kowalska on April 30, 2000, and designated the 2nd Sunday of Easter to be Divine Mercy Sunday.

Pope Francis, in his Bull of Indiction of the Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy, said: “Jesus the face of the Father’s mercy.” And he added: “Mercy has become living and visible in Jesus of Nazareth, reaching its culmination in him… Jesus, by his words, his actions, and his entire person reveals the mercy of God.”

Later in the document, he further explains: “’God is love’ (1 Jn 4:8,16)… This love has now been made visible and tangible in Jesus’ entire life. His person is nothing but love, a love given gratuitously. The relationships he forms with the people who approach him manifest something entirely unique and unrepeatable. The signs he works, especially in favor of sinners, the poor, the marginalized, the sick, and the suffering, are all meant to teach mercy. Everything in him speaks of mercy. Nothing in him is devoid of compassion”.

In showing God’s love, God’s acceptance, God’s compassion to people of all walks of life, Jesus overstepped boundaries defined by the authorities of his Jewish religion at this time, boundaries between clean and unclean, between the so-called righteous and sinners, between men and women,
between Jews and non-Jews, etc. This, in conjunction with his radical message, which went to the root of the law from Mt. Sinai and to its original and deeper intent, was considered provocative. He experienced rejection by the leaders of his people. In addition, the Roman colonial power suspected that he could cause an insurrection. Jesus’ fidelity to his mission of making visible God’s love and mercy for all people ultimately lead to his passion and death.

However, this is not the end of the story. Jesus rose from the dead and appeared to his disciples. He deals with them in a merciful way. He does not blame them for fearfully going into hiding during his passion. He does not hold against Peter that he denied him. Instead he bestows upon them his peace, as he had promised, and fills their hearts with joy. His breathing on them is a reference to the 2nd creation story in the book of Genesis. There God breathed life into a lump of clay and so created the first human being. Now the apostles become a new creation. The Bible uses the same word for breath, wind and God’s spirit: ruach (Hebrew), pneuma (Greek) and spiritus (Latin). In this new creation at Easter, the disciples are being filled, at the same time, with the Holy Spirit.

Jesus has forgiven them their infidelity toward him. And he calls upon them to practice forgiveness themselves. – Finally, Jesus is not satisfied until even Thomas who was not part of the group on Easter Sunday, can also experience his presence as the Risen One and believe in him.
Pope Francis once pointed out that this is also an expression of Jesus’ mercy: He goes after Thomas so nobody is left out!

Dear sisters and brothers, Divine Mercy is the Easter gift of the Risen Christ. It can transform and is meant to transform also our hearts and our lives.

St. Faustina had a vision of Jesus and of divine mercy radiating from his sacred heart. In the vision, Jesus asked for a painting to be made of this image. A local artist created the painting according to her directives. It shows Jesus standing, with nail marks on his hands and feet, his right hand raised in blessing and with rays fanning out from his heart, white on one side and red on the other. I like to look at this image. The white rays represent Jesus’ gift of the Holy Spirit to us. We, too, have already been re-made into a new creation since our baptism. The old things have passed away, the new has begun (2 Cor 5:17), St. Paul would say.

Today’s second reading is another Scriptural reference of this image. St. John says that Jesus came through water and through blood (represented by the red rays). The blood that flowed out of Jesus’ side wound symbolizes and literally expresses his love to the end of which every Eucharist reminds us. At the Mass we are invited to unite our cross-bearing, our daily dying and rising, that is part of Christian discipleship with His.

In today’s gospel, Jesus also send his disciples out, giving them a share in his mission that he has received from his Father. One expression of living it is forgiveness, giving the people who are part of our lives a new chance time and again and not holding “old things” against them any longer: in the family, in monastic community, in the church, also in society and in the world. This is one important way of sharing the gift of Divine mercy that we have so plentifully received.

~Fr. Thomas Leitner, OSB


The Easter Candle

DSC_0673.JPG

The Easter candle that graces our churches during the Easter Season is one of the major symbols of the Risen Christ in our midst. The Easter Vigil begins with a service of light and the candle, the light of Christ, is at the center of it. We begin with a new fire. This fire is already a sign of the glory of the resurrected Lord. It is meant to shatter the darkness of the night around it, as Jesus’ rising will shatter the darkness of death, evil and ignorance.

A special candle is prepared so that the glory of Christ can be among us as we worship. To set this candle apart from others, it receives special signs. The celebrant first marks the candle with the cross, the sign of our redemption. As he cuts the vertical and horizontal lines, he says “Christ yesterday and today, the Beginning and the End.” He then cuts the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet, Alpha and Omega, above and below the cross, saying their names as he does so. All these phrases are taken from the Letter to the Hebrews and the Book of Revelation where the Risen Lord identifies himself as the Beginning and the End. The priest continues with the theme of time by marking the numerals of the current year in the four corners of the cross. As he does this, he says: “All time belongs to him and all the ages. To him be glory and power through every age and for ever. Amen.” With these references to time we are proclaiming that the Risen One is the Lord of history, Lord of time. With his death and resurrection, a new time has begun and he is at the heart of it.  The death and resurrection of Christ will give meaning to all events of the current year and beyond.

Next five grains of incense are inserted into the cross on the candle. These grains of incense are today often encased in a wax that look like nails. The five grains are in remembrance of the wounds of Christ in his hands, feet, side and head. As the priest inserts them, he says, “By his holy and glorious wounds, may Christ the Lord guard us and protect us. Amen.” This reminds us that the Risen Lord is also the crucified Lord. Jesus often showed his wounds to his disciples after his resurrection so that they would know it was he who died and is now risen. Being protected by the wounds hints at the Paschal Lamb whose blood was sprinkled on the door posts so that death would Passover the houses of Israelites that first passover night. This night for us is our celebration of that passing over from death to life.

DSC_0675.JPG

The preparation of the candle is completed when a light is taken from the new fire and the candle is lit. The lighting of the candle is accompanied by the words, “May the light of Christ rising in glory dispel the darkness of our hearts and minds.” Now the light that is literally outside where it is challenging the darkness of the night is Christ who will shine inwardly to bring light to our inner selves, transforming them into a new self.

Since the markings of the cross and the Alpha and Omega are not usually visible, they are often indicated by decals that decorate the Easter Candle. The candle often carries other kinds of decorations as well. Our candle adds to the time indications “The Year of St. Joseph” as well as a victorious Paschal Lamb symbol.

When the candle is in its place in the church an ancient hymn is sung called the Exultet. This hymn to the Christ candle unpacks further the meaning and power of this light in the community’s midst. It is worthwhile to read and pray from this hymn throughout the Easter Season. The candle remains near the ambo where the readings are proclaimed for the whole of the Easter season.

~Fr. Joel Macul, OSB

Easter Vigil - 2021

Romans 6:3–11
Mark 16:1–7

The Sabbath is over. The day of rest has been dutifully observed. We, too, have kept watch; we have observed the Sabbath, completing it by pondering again the stories, the images, the poetry that speak of God’s creative power. We have heard of his desire to set us free and above all, of his love that is everlasting. We have heard again of his love that calls the stars by name and call us too out of darkness into his wonderful light.

We need this Sabbath, this rest, the time to remember, to hear again about God’s choice of us. We need it, too, like the women we meet walking to the tomb with burial spices. We need to mourn our losses; we need time to admit that the death of Jesus has changed something but we are not quite sure what. Maybe we have not made the connection yet between his death and our need to die to self. But the Sabbath is over. It is back to practicalities, to taking care of the matter at hand. It is time to shop for what is needed, for our task now of caring for the dead; time to buy, something we are very familiar with. And as we walk along, the next practical question is who is going to roll away the stone? We women can only do so much. But there is no one else around. The men have done their thing.

And yet the question, “Who will roll away the stone?” is a real one. On one level, it means how can we get on with courting death. How can we take care of the next victim of violence, deceit and false testimony? How can we lay to rest the next victim of human atrocity? We humans are good at finding someone or something to blame and then making sure we get rid of it. We dread owning our own frailty and weakness, our simple mistakes, our major faults. The women are simply doing what they did in Galilee, ministering to Jesus, even when he is a dead corpse. Nothing seems to have changed. We just carry on.

But when the women look up from their questioning, something has changed. The question as to who will roll back the stone has been answered. “God will.” God will roll it back because God wants death to change. God will open up the tomb because his Son has been placed there and that dead Son needs to live. Suddenly rolling away the stone is more than a practical necessity; rolling away the stone allows the women to enter not to find death but to find a young man clothed in white letting them know that death is over and gone.

The women are amazed. They came to continue the story of death. Instead, they find the morning sun shining in the place, the body gone and a messenger in white telling them this is not where you need to be! In so many words, you are in the wrong place! Your crucified friend is not here, just as he told you. Remember!

The women are shocked, amazed! At what? That there is another story being told here. It is a story of love and fidelity of a Father for his Son. It is a story about freeing humanity from taking its own life, from self-destructive behavior. Jesus has been telling a story about giving up one’s life out of love for another, for us. His was not a cold death, now to be packaged up like other deaths. His death was for us. He entered the grasp of death, its depths in the tomb, trusting in love. And doing it so that we might look up and see that what we thought was the end, is really a place of light and a message to continue on the journey where you will see him.

The Father’s love does not let things be; his love rolls back what blocks us from seeing light and hearing good news. His love is about restoring an original peace, a wholeness where life is the beginning and the end. His love is about giving us a new heart, a new spirit. It makes no difference where we are on the road of life: the hopeful end of a pandemic where we know in our hearts that life will not be the same; an acceptance of my own fragility of body and mind; a loss that seems to go on forever…God is rolling back the stone so we can see that his love is what holds the world and humanity together.

The women are right. They have to get into the tomb. Yes, they have to die with Jesus. Paul puts it clearly: we have to die with Christ and be buried with him. This is the only way to life. Baptism is our dying and being buried and the beginning of our rising to live for this mysterious God. It is not a one time process; it is a daily process as we live our time on earth.

Baptism is the beginning of the journey. What journey? The messenger in the tomb tells us: He is going before you to Galilee. He went before you to Jerusalem and you followed him. You watched and followed him to the tomb. But you cannot remain in Jerusalem the place of death, you must go where you experienced how he loved, lived, prayed healed and broke bread with you. When you do that, you will see him.

It is hard work, dying, being buried and beginning to rise. But someone has rolled back the stone so that we can make that journey into new life. That someone who worked so light could enter is the Father. And the new life that lies ahead is his Son, going on ahead of us still. Yes, he is risen, alleluia. He is not in death and neither are you as you go on to Galilee. Be amazed but get moving. There is much energy released on this day for the stone has been rolled back.

~Prior, Fr. Joel Macul, OSB

Holy Thursday - Mass of the Lord's Supper

Joh 13:1-15
Ex 12:1-8, 11-14 1
Cor 11: 23-26

focus: On Holy Thursday we commemorate the first Eucharist in the Cenacle.

function: And we hear the Lord’s call to each one of us to humbly serve our brothers and sisters in our everyday life.

During the last couple of years, I got to know the Jewish religion a bit better, among other things through an encounter with Rabbi Teri at South Street Temple in Lincoln, through study, spiritual reading, and the Tri-Faith initiative in Omaha. Thus, my mind was especially with our Jewish sisters and brothers Last Saturday, when the weeklong Jewish Passover celebration began with the nightly Seder meal. As part of the rite, the youngest child or family member asks what the meaning is of this night. Then the head of the family, usually the father, tells the story of the wonderful Exodus from Egypt. Today “the Lord brought us from bondage to freedom, from sorrow to gladness, from mourning to a festival day, from darkness to great light, from servitude to redemption” (Mishna). Today: What is remembered and told becomes a present event. For those who hear about God’s deeds thousands of years ago and who celebrate them with praise, redemption from slavery become a present reality.

Tonight’s first reading is the description of the people of Israel’s first Passover meal in Egypt. The blood of the sacrificed lambs marks the homes of the Israelites—and so they are being spared from the tenth and worst plague which is to come upon Pharaoh and the Egyptians: the death of the firstborn. After this, Pharaoh will let the people of Israel go from bondage into freedom.

One way for us of receiving this Biblical message is to get in touch with our own desire for greater freedom, for liberation from those patterns of thinking and behavior in our life that keep us from being free. We can look back once again on the forty days of Lent: Have our Lenten practices helped us toward greater freedom? Whatever the answer, we can hold out our desire for freedom to God, who can fulfill and who wants to fulfill our deepest longings!

This night is very special for us as Christians. We celebrate the institution of the Holy Eucharist. Our second reading and the gospel take us into the night of Jesus’ Last Supper with his disciples. St. Paul tells us about Jesus’ gift to us: "This is my body that is for you,” Jesus says. With this he summarizes his whole ministry. It was all about self-giving. And we hear about Jesus’ summons, “Do this in remembrance of me.” Whenever we celebrate the Eucharist we act on this word and the Last Supper becomes present to us. Whenever we do this, St. Paul writes, we “proclaim the death of the Lord.”

He gave his life to set us free. Jesus’ salvific death invites us to self-giving. At offertory time, we place our life, whatever is going on with us right now, on the paten, together with the host, and it is being transform with it. The action of Jesus is meant to become and can become our action. Through our own self- offering, through our dying to self, we imitate Jesus and conform our lives to his.

Paul adds: We shall do this “until he comes.” One day, Jesus will come again in glory. Until then, whenever we gather for the Eucharist, we already receive in this sacrament a foretaste of the joyful banquet with him in heaven.

John's gospel has a different account of the Last Supper. John does not relate Jesus’ words of institution at all. Instead, Jesus washes his disciples' feet. With this ritual Jesus shows us how he gives us his body and allows his blood to be poured out for us. By his action, Jesus says: I am a servant to you and to all. You can become like this, too: “Love one another as I have loved you!”

Dear sisters and brothers, on Holy Thursday we commemorate the first Eucharist in the Cenacle; it becomes present to us. And we hear the Lord’s mandate to each one of us to humbly serve our brothers and sisters in our everyday life.

We are invited today to enter into this scene in our imagination: Reclining at table with Jesus, looking at him, listening to him. He teaches us. He feeds us with himself. He strengthens us and gives us life. Then we see how he puts on an apron and starts washing everyone’s feet. Like Peter, I feel resistance. I realize: I have to let Jesus wash my feet. I need to "name" the part of my life, the part of myself that I need to surrender to the Lord to be embraced and loved, washed and healed.

As we celebrate the Eucharist tonight, we can participate in it with new gratitude, for the gift that Jesus is for us. The word ‘Eucharist’ means ‘thanksgiving’. This gratitude will be the seed for our own loving according to his example, ,it will be the starting point for us reaching out to those who need liberation and a new experience of that dignity which God has given to all of us and which people felt anew in Jesus presence. AMEN.

~Fr. Thomas Leitner, OSB

Annunciation of the Lord

Isaiah 7:10–14; 8:10
Hebrews 10:4–10
Luke 1:26–38

Luke introduces Mary without any prehistory. There is no family origins or genealogy. She is just there. She is alone; there is no one around. We can say that she is in an in-between state, she is single and betrothed, not quite belonging to her family, not yet living with her husband. We know she is living in a small town, inconsequential historically. What good can come from Nazareth another gospel writer puts it. There is really only one thing that Luke tells us about Mary. We hear it from the angel: “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you!” But that one thing says everything. Mary is already favored by God; Mary is already in relationship with the God of the covenant, the God of promises, the God of the creative Word. It is clear Mary is not aware of full meaning this relationship. She is troubled by the announcement of her identity. She ponders it. She hears is loved by God, for that is what ‘full of grace means.’

God finds raw material, so to speak, to love and work with, beyond our knowing it. It is true: given Mary’s response to the angel’s word, she has been living within the framework of a God who is alive for her. Perhaps without much reflection. But there is a space within her where God wishes to build his name in human flesh. God has found that space, that womb in this girl from Nazareth.

God recognizes the good in Mary. He favors it as the place to culminate the work he began with creation. But this good and wonderful heart will not be forced. The Word comes but it is clear that humanity must receive it in order for the Word be clothed like one of us. The Word needs a response in order for it to happen. God finds the sacred space within Mary, God sees the grace and the readiness, but Mary, but we, must say, “Let it be done according to your Word.”

Annunciations happen in our lives. Someone recognizes the goodness within us. Most of us pull back, perhaps in disbelief. Someone has spoken a word to us and we allowed ourselves, like Mary, to ponder it. We stopped and let that word work in us. We let the Spirit begin the process of doing something wonderful and new. It might be that if, we did not have an annunciation, a word spoken to us, we might not be in the place where we are now. Our journey in the flesh would look different. But someone saw grace in us and called it into action. Perhaps that person was like Gabriel, only around for a short time and then departed. But they spoke and we allowed the Spirit to work in our lives.

This is a feast of Word, Spirit and grace. The Word continues to speak to us today, to land on the grace we carry and find a home in our hearts. This is because a long time ago a young girl acknowledged her identity and opened herself to the Spirit’s work of doing something new. What that new thing is the son of Mary we name Jesus—God among us.
There is this place within us—call it heart—where there is an openness. God can work, we can conceive. Mary could think of how it was impossible for the word God spoke would happen. She spoke obstacles. The angel spoke of the Holy Spirit. The angel reminded her that the impossible could be done through the Spirit’s power. We humans are good at pointing out the obstacles. But it is within those obstacles that the Spirit seeks to use the flesh. Grace has no barriers. We hold flesh and Spirit apart, impossible to touch. But God says ‘yes’ today to our flesh. I send a Son so that you too can say yes to the grace already within you. He will take your flesh, your seeming impossible, and make of it a new creation.

Let us not be afraid to name the annunciations spoken to us, annunciations that recognize the grace which was poured on us once at baptism when Word and Spirit changed our lives forever. The incarnation is still happening; the Word is still longing to make a home in our hearts. Mary gives evidence that the Word does come breaking into our lives. Mary testifies also as to what a response looks like: “May it be done to me according to your word.” Her Son will say the same before the Father. And when he does, we will know that Mary has borne God’s Son.

~Prior, Fr. Joel Macul, OSB

Memorial of the Death of St. Benedict

Genesis: 12: 1–4a
Philippians 4:4–9
John 17: 20–26

Today we celebrate the passing of St. Benedict from this world to the Father. It his is death we celebrate today. It is observed in Benedictine monasteries close to the spring equinox. Just as the seasons change from one to another, so does Benedict pass, transit from this world to the heavenly world. When it comes to remembering a death, there is sometimes a tradition of giving a eulogy about the deceased person. This simply means giving a good word about the person. Rhetorically it often gets expanded into praising the life the man. If you read some medieval sermons for this feast of the transitus, this is often what they sound like. And as time went on, they would sing the praises of the Benedictine Order and what it has contributed to the culture of Europe. This theme is still operative today. Now the question is asked what can Benedict say to a very different culture than the one his monks once left behind. And beyond Europe, we have more and more literature on how Benedict and his Rule can affect the ordinary person.

At first hearing the Word we have just heard doesn’t seem to have much to do with death but there is some hint of a passage from this world to the next in Paul and with Jesus. But the Word can point us in a direction that our thoughts and feelings might take as Benedict moves along the carpet lined with lights from this world to heaven.

Abraham. When we listen to his call, we easily think of our vocation. We reflect on the fact that none of us are living in our home town or for some even in our home country. We have all left the family and place we are familiar with. And following that call was not necessarily easy, just as it was not easy for Abraham. But Abraham’s call had more than a ‘leaving behind’ as part of it. There was also a blessing attached to it. And it was not a blessing that he would live to see. God asks him to move but he also gives him his word and makes a promise. He will be blessed and he will become a blessing for others. This speaks to us Benedictines as much as a vocation call. The name Benedict translates as simply “One who is Blessed.”

Benedict passes from this world to the Father today. But he has left a blessing behind him. If we count the 1500+ years his way of life has been carried out, then he is surely a happy man to have so many sons and daughters who have lived in the light of his blessing. We can pause to consider the significance of that. We here in this day and age, from several places on earth that Benedict did not even know about, have been touched by his way of life. Surely he is a happy man for that. But we might ask ourselves, just how have I been blessed in knowing this man and in knowing his way of following the Gospel. Can each of us begin to name the blessing Benedict has bequeathed to us through his life and through his Rule? Is it a way of prayer, a way of prayer founded in God’s word? Is it perhaps the gift of balance in our lives that comes about by following the rhythm of common prayer, work, reading day in and day out? Is it the virtue of patience that has grown in us as we learned to live next to someone of different temperament or style or culture than me? Have I come to know peace in my life because I have been faithful to all that Benedict calls us to? Can I recognize the blessing of wholeness that has come to me by walking the road of humility? Can I say that there is less fear in my life now that my heart has expanded in love? Is there less rigidity and defense and more openness and selflessness. Listening to the call of Abraham is only a part of the Abraham story; the other half is that Abraham is to be a blessing. Abraham’s vocation was to become a blessing. Surely today when we remember the passing of Benedict, we can ponder the blessing and blessings that have come to us by being a disciple in Benedict’s school of the Lord’s service. And the blessing this way of life can give even in our world today.

Paul. Paul speaks a word to the Philippians and Benedict speaks a word to his followers. Paul wishes joy and peace for his community. Benedict’s invitation in his prologue is precisely to those people who are looking also for peace. Benedict has a word and a plan for those whose hearts are looking for wholeness and a rich life. He asks us to seek peace and pursue it. Run after this peace. Run after this blessing that God wishes to give us and does so in abundance at the resurrection of Christ.

Paul asks his community to imitate him, do what he taught, to follow his example. As Benedict passes today from this world to the Father, he also encourages us to do all the things we have learned from him and were taught by him. What he taught and what we can learn is found in the Rule. But if we are to follow him, then we best do that by giving flesh to the Rule, making it come alive. Of course we make a vow to follow the Rule. And we listen to it each day. But all this is to say that we are to be conscious daily of what Benedict is teaching us. Benedict may pass into the glory of his Master. But Benedict lives to the degree that we find the way to God and a way of serving the Lord Jesus in the word of the Rule. Keep on doing what you have learned, received and heard in me, Paul tells his community at Philippi. Benedict passes to the Father but leaves a gift in his Rule. The Rule is perhaps the great blessing that Benedict leaves behind. When we follow it, he says we too will become blessed, we will become free.

Lastly, we hear Jesus praying. Perhaps Jesus’ words are similar to the words of prayer that St. Gregory tells us were on the lips of Benedict in his dying moments. Listening to Jesus we are invited to hear in them what St. Benedict prayed for his own community. What Benedict wishes for us is a place in the great communion that flows between Father and Son. It is a communion that now includes those who believe in the Son. The communion of love that flows between the Father and the Son is expanded to all those for whom the Son lived and died.

What is at the center of St. Benedict’s way of life is Christ. At the heart of the community is the living Christ. We come to the monastery to live in a community with Christ as the center. We come to accept what Jesus continues to offer, a relationship with him and the Father. At the heart of the community is the great blessing. It is the blessing that the Father loves Jesus and is faithful to him until the end. Jesus in his turn loves us and is faithful to us also. And we live in that love. Our stability, that Benedictine hallmark, is to remain in that love. And our living in that love becomes a blessing to the world around us. To the degree that we live out of the blessing, to that degree do we experience peace. To that same degree do the followers of St. Benedict become a blessing wherever they may be found.

We give thanks today for God’s blessing, St. Benedict, who has given us a way to life that leads to the heart of Love, the source of all blessing.

~Prior, Fr. Joel Macu, OSB

5th Sunday of Lent - 2021

Jeremiah 31:31–34
Hebrews 5:7–10
John 12:20–33 

“Sir, we would like to see Jesus.” It sounds like a simple request, right? One goes to a clinic and say I would like to see Dr. so and so. One would think that a simple answer would suffice, like OK, or when, etc. But Jesus’ response seems like a disconnect. On the surface it looks like it is no response at all. But in reality the request, ‘Sir, we would like to see Jesus,’ opens up a new dimension as to who Jesus is. For Jesus such a request signals something  beyond him, as it were. The request does not come from one of his own; it comes from beyond his people, from the Greeks, from the outside world. In reality, Jesus takes it as sign that his God and Father has begun something new in this simple request. Jesus responds first by announcing that a change is taking place. The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Jesus knows that he is entering the final stage of his presence in the world.

So what does Jesus want the Greeks to see? Who is the person that Jesus wants the Greeks to see, what kind of person is he? To answer the question of the Greeks, Jesus offers us an image of himself and an image of what it means for outsiders to be asking for him. He chooses an agricultural image, that of a grain of wheat. This grain must fall to the ground and die. The image that Jesus offers the Greeks is an image of himself as a dying man. But then that is what happens to a grain of wheat. To be what it is supposed to be, it must die. So Jesus comes to the realization that if his life to have any meaning, then it means that he must die like a grain of wheat. The question of the Greeks brings forth the understanding that he cannot remain alone, he cannot remain single, he cannot remain one belonging to his own people. No, he must die like a wheat grain so that he produces fruit. The grain of wheat must produce many grains. From being one, he must become many. He cannot be for himself alone, he must be for others. To bear fruit is to die, to let go of himself so that he can bear the fruit of a community that encompasses more than just his own.

The coming of the Greeks provokes Jesus into his hour, into the crisis of shedding his enclosed world of self and allowing it to break open so that he can call others into being. His dying is essential if his task is to call humanity to fruitfulness, to community, to solidarity. He seems to be aware that dying on the cross is becoming visibly lifted up so that others can see and come to him. His singleness and uniqueness is bearing fruit in a drawing of humanity toward the Father through him. But the only way to bring humanity together is to die, to surrender, to let go. Jesus can only answer the request of the Greeks if he dies. But only then will he also be true to himself. That is what his hour challenges him to.

Those who come to see him must understand that they must also make the same journey as he. They want to see Jesus, and the Jesus they will see is a Jesus who gives himself up to death out of love for his Father. If the Greeks, the outsiders, want any part with him, they must do the same. All who follow Jesus must do the same. In his Semitic way of putting it, they must hate their life in this world, to gain authentic life. If you love your life you will lose it. This is a way of saying that if you remain loyal to this world’s way of thinking and seeing, then you are really choosing an alternative that will bear no fruit. But if you choose the dying model, like the grain of wheat, they you will have an authentic life. For those of us who take seeing Jesus seriously, it will mean dying in some form or other. Ours is culture that does want to consider death as the avenue to life and growth. But if you have invested in Jesus, then there is no other way. Dying in this case covers all aspects of life in this world. Death to self-preoccupation, to our so-called independence and isolation, death to wanting things my way and only my way. My loyalty, my love must be directed to another: to neighbor, to Jesus, to the Father?  Then my self will bear fruit.

This kind of dying is not easy. We do not let go of illusions easily. Jesus struggled with giving up his life. The Letter to the Hebrew speaks of ‘loud cries and tears’. Jesus says he is troubled. He asks himself, maybe I should pull out of this dying, save myself the trouble of living for others. In the end he moves toward acceptance of the hour. “No, I will not ask to be saved from dying. It is for this that I came!” And just where does Jesus find the strength to enter into this unknown world of letting go? He finds it in his relationship to the Father. He remains loyal to the Father. And the Father remains loyal to him. I will glorify you, I will honor and respect you. For when you embrace dying out of love, then you are my Son, you honor and reveal my love for the world.

When Jesus dies, the single grain that he is becomes many grains. It produces the fruit of a new community, a community that can hold both his people and the Greeks. Lifted up Jesus begins to pull together what is scattered and weave it into a new whole. The old order wants to divide, separate and cause discord. The new community wants to pull the diversity into a new form of unity, a unity that the prophet sees as being written on our hearts. The fruit of Jesus dying is a new humanity that is led from within its heart. Those who see Jesus and serve him then become part of the coming together that the love released in his dying brings about.

In our Eucharist today, Jesus is lifted up. And this love raised on high is the signal that we, too, need not be afraid of dying to self and coming alive in the life that is God’s. A new covenant is being celebrated here at the altar, a covenant formed out love poured forth on the cross. For those of us who want to see Jesus, it is in becoming part of the covenant sealed in his blood, that we will see him and will preserve our human life for eternal life.

~Prior, Fr. Joel Macul, OSB

 

4th Sunday of Lent-2021

Joh 3:14-21
2 Chr 36:14-17.19-23
Eph 2:4-10

focus: We, too, like Nicodemus, are called upon to look to Jesus, and to put our trust in him who is also for us the source of life, yes, of life to the full.

I am always impressed when I visit the campus of Boys Town in Omaha. “There is no such thing as a bad boy; there is only bad environment, bad training, bad example, bad thinking.” This was, as we know, the conviction of the Servant of God, Fr. Edward Flanagan, the founder of Boys Town. He lived according to this conviction. Thousands of boys, homeless or delinquent or both, found a father in him, somebody who cares, somebody who gave them love, education and good training.

Fr. Flanagan’s work with troubled and abandoned youths, began in 1917 in a rented house in Omaha with five boys who needed a home. Now Boys Town helps more than 1.6 million people each year through its main campus,it’s national research hospital in Omaha, its national hotline
and at various locations around the country.

It made no difference to Fr. Flanagan whether a boy was Catholic, Protestant, Jewish or had no religion at all. He taught all of them to pray, but gave each one the freedom to pray in his own way. The color of a person’s skin didn’t matter to Fr. Flanagan, either. One African American commentator wrote after his death in 1948, “America was founded upon the philosophy that everyone deserved his chance to contribute his talents to make this country great. But America has yet to learn by the example of this humble disciple of Christ [Fr Flanagan,] that the phrase ‘all people’ truly includes the white, the brown and the black.” Fr. Flanagan made visible in an eminent way, as did Jesus himself, the love of God for every human being.

God’s love and mercy shine through all the Scripture texts of this Sunday. The situation of the Israelites in the Babylonian exile seemed hopeless. They couldn’t be joyous, as our responsorial psalm says. However, God took the initiative and inspired the Persian King Cyrus to give them their freedom. They were able to return to their land; and Cyrus even supported the rebuilding of their temple in Jerusalem.

John’s Gospel proclaims the good news of God’s love who even gave up his only begotten Son in order for us to be saved.

By grace and by God, who is rich in mercy, we have been saved through faith, the Letter to the Ephesians tells us. We have a share in Christ’s resurrection and, even now, in his heavenly glory. That’s why the Laetare Sunday has this joyful quality.

On today’s Sunday, we have moved into the second part of Lent. During the first weeks of Lent, the readings at Mass called us to penance and conversion, to forgiveness and love of enemies,
to prayer, fasting and almsgiving. The emphasis was on our doing.

Now, starting today, the readings of the Lectionary are about Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the healer and life-giver, the one who gives life through his confrontation with death. The emphasis is on the work of God, who guides his people, who is rich in mercy, and who sent his son into the world, not to condemn it, but that it might be saved though him. The focus is on our salvation and our redemption.

God loves each one of us as if you, and you, and I were the only persons in the universe. In Jesus Christ, this love has reached into the deepest depths of earthly sickness and desolation.

My brothers and sisters, we, too, like Nicodemus, whom we meet in today’s gospel, are called upon to actively convert to Jesus, to gradually conform the ways of our lives to his. And, even more fundamentally, we are called upon to look to Jesus, and to receive from him God’s mercy, and life, life to the full.

An expression of our active conversion, of our coming toward the light this Lent could be, if we haven’t made it yet, a good confession. The examination of our conscience helps us to become aware of those areas in our lives that need improvement and a new beginning. The celebration of the sacrament itself assures us of God’s forgiveness and of God’s continued and never ending love for us.

And we can ask ourselves: What would be a way for us to show something of God’s love and mercy, that we have received to others? Is it time for us to reach out to a person with whom we are not reconciled? Is there something special we can do, inspired by Fr. Flanagan’s ideals, for our children or grandchildren in order to show them our love and care?

A spiritual exercise that leads us well into Lent’s second part could be to sit in front of a crucifix today or this week in our room, in our house, or in church and to look at it with great trust and with hope. What the apostle Paul says is true: Because of his great love for us [God] brought us to life with Christ when we were dead in sin. By his grace we have been saved.

~Fr. Thomas Leitner, OSB


sign up for st. benedict center newsletter
Sign up for Mission House Newsletter

© 2025 Christ the King Priory   •   1123 Road I, Schuyler, NE 68661    •   402.352.2177
Privacy Policy