Reflection for Sunday, January 20, 2019 (2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time) by Joe Gunn

2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time – Jan. 20, 2019

Readings: Is 62:1–5 • 1 Cor 12:4–11 • Jn 2:1–12

Joe Gunn, St. Joe’s Parish, Ottawa

Have you ever been to a wedding feast yourself, or had to organize one? There’s often a lot going on beneath the surface – family interactions, wondering if the weather will mess things up, folks traveling from afar and not making it on time, all kinds of anticipation that several things might just not go as planned…

Maybe you’ve been married yourself. How did that “big day” go?

I was married on a very hot afternoon in a Central American country at war. There wasn’t any wine to be had there. The biggest daily challenge as we lived with all manner of shortages, was getting what we needed to eat and drink. The office messenger would come back from delivering something and report, “There’s eggs at the tienda two streets over,” or “there’s cooking oil nearby…” and we’d all scramble to give him money and bring things back! So finding enough food and drink for the guests invited to our celebration after Mass was a major undertaking. Of course, an upside was that I saved a lot of money – there was no way to buy a ring! Perhaps, like most guys, the only real miracle we experienced that day was the realization that our partner said “yes.”

The Wedding Feast at Cana is the story of Jesus’ first public miracle.

The church calendar presents this story during the season of Epiphany. Epiphany means “revealing” or “manifestation.” I think the story of the Wedding Feast tells us several things about what God wants to reveal about his Son.

So maybe today we’re being asked by the Church to reflect for a moment on who Jesus is (as revealed in this story) and who we might become, as true “followers of Jesus.”

When you think about the Old Testament vision of God, the overwhelming image is of an all-powerful force, often revealed on a mountaintop or in a powerful feat of nature, like a burning bush. This is a God who helps his loyal followers defeat their foes as long as they obey His commands.

Maybe today’s first reading from the prophet Isaiah was a bit different: Isaiah opens the door to a God who says we’ll be called by “a new name.” We’ll no longer be “forsaken” or “desolate” but rather, “a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord,” and we’ll rejoice as we would over the love of a partner in marriage.

And at Cana, this vision of a new God appears – in the middle of a wedding celebration! Here’s Jesus, a God who cares about temporal matters enough to save the groom from embarrassment, exalt his mother, and maintain the reputation of a family whose wedding planning had fallen a bit short.

I think it’s interesting that several spiritual writers suggest that most of us come to a deeper stage of our faith lives when something intriguing happens – they suggest, we go deeper after we perceive God in a new way.

Jesus at Cana invites us to know him in a new way – not through religion based on following laws and constantly worried about purification rites – but in relationship. God’s relationship with us can be as deep as (or perhaps even beyond) anything we can imagine. We’re offered a new relationship with God that is perhaps as different from that previous one as water is from wine…

So, I invite you to think about your own faith journey for a moment. When was a moment when you noticed and felt Jesus deeply in your life?

Do you think we live in miraculous times? Can the presence of Jesus in some way be for you like a loving relationship that makes everything seem “new?”

Or have we that same image of God that we’ve had from our childhood? Or perhaps has reading the Bible, listening to the Word, reflecting with others and celebrating the sacraments (perhaps even for some of us, even the sacrament of marriage) helped us understand God in a new, more profound way?

Do we think of Jesus as always “newly revealed” in our lives, or as the same-old, same-old – never-changing, never-emerging? The most challenging religious book I’ve read in years is Franciscan Sister Ilia Delio’s little book called, “The Emergent Christ.” She helped me question why I could ever conceive of God and Jesus as somehow “finished.”

Ilia Delio is fond of the work of Jesuit scientist and theologian Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. Teilhard de Chardin worried that Christianity made its followers inhuman – by demanding a series of rote doctrines devoid of life, pointing believers to a starry heaven away from this world. If our faith lives amount to mere observances and obligations, Teilhard felt we might fail to realize the soul’s immense power.

Ilia Delio challenges me to understand Christ as the source of divine love, a love that constantly evolves, grows, and continually changes and deepens.

And can we allow changes in our relationship with God to spark the growth of service to our neighbours? Christ’s loving kindness in today’s Gospel seems to be convincing proof that Christians are supposed to engage in our world. On this World Day for Migrants, we can be grateful to the good folks of St. Joe’s Refugee Outreach Committee, which is helping 38 refugees at present (including a Syrian man who just arrived last night) and has a waiting list of 10 more. Perhaps I can’t perform miracles, but like Jesus providing wine for the lives of others, we can all use our gifts to create a better world.

And perhaps this story also allows us to think of Mary and her role. Oblate Fr. Ron Rolheiser writes that “Catholics tend to adore Mary, while Protestants and Evangelicals tend to ignore her. Neither is ideal” he says. But do we turn to Mary as Jesus did? Do we show similar confidence in that love for us? I think of all the Marian shrines I’ve seen across Latin America – Mary never appears to a rich person. Marian devotion there is a mysticism of the poor. Think of Mary’s words in the Magnificat – that longest section of a woman speaking in the entire New Testament. She was the first to hear the word of God, and a model of discipleship. Mary tells the servants at the Wedding Feast, “Do whatever he tells you.”

These were the last words of Mary recorded in the New Testament.

“Do whatever he tells you.”

Aren’t those words meant for us, too?

Reflection for Sunday, January 13, 2019 (Baptism of the Lord) by Eleanor Rabnett

First Reading:  Isaiah 40.1-5, 9-11

Second Reading:  Titus 2.11-14; 3.4-7

Gospel:  Luke 3.15-16, 21-22

So here we are – the end of the Church’s Christmas season – we have all celebrated the birth of Jesus and last weekend we celebrated the Epiphany – the three who followed the light of the star that led them to Jesus. This weekend it is all about the light of Baptism.

In preparing for this reflection I came across articles on how this was the beginning of the public life of Jesus and the significance of that, articles on how with his Baptism Jesus “knew” what his life would be like, how special he was to God, how he would suffer, etc. Wonderful elements to focus on – but –all the while I kept thinking about what it is like here at St. Joe’s – to witness and take part in the Baptism of the newest member of a family.  Joy, light, celebration – that’s what I want to focus on today.

In Isaiah we hear: “…the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” The Psalm speaks of the light of God: “O Lord my God, you are very great. You are clothed with honour and majesty, wrapped in light – in light as with a garment…” Luke in the Gospel writes: “…when a voice came from heaven, “you are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Isaiah with the promise and then the fulfillment of the promise coming after John baptises Jesus.

Who among us would not love to hear that we are the Beloved of God?  Nothing more – just that – it’s like a primal instinct and desire that we were born with. In his reflection on today’s Gospel John Foley states that “when the Father says “you are my beloved Son; in you I am well pleased” – that he is really saying “Receive my love that never runs away, never lets go, even in the desert, even on the cross.” [1]

I think of the number of Baptisms that have been performed and celebrated in this parish – where each of our children have been Baptised and held up, welcomed as new members of our community – celebrated.

Today we celebrate the Baptism of Marcus – the newest light in our parish family.

Most of us do not remember our Baptism – we were too young.  But as we look back at our lives we might recognize how God has let us know of his immense love, how the light of our Baptism comes back to us over and over again throughout our lives.

At some point in our lives there are small moments of awareness – maybe not of light but of how God drenches us with love.  We might hesitate to pursue that thought because it can be almost scary that much love. And then to think that the light of God might be shining from within us.

Perhaps if we listen very closely we might hear God speak our name telling us to share the light of his love with the world. I think this is what our Baptismal Call is all about.

Over the next few days I invite you to think about how you live out your Baptismal Call – how you are a light to the world.

Pope Francis pulls it all together for us: “The star appearing in the sky kindled in their minds and in their hearts a light that moved them to seek the great Light of Christ. Baptism illuminates us from within with the light of Jesus. … In virtue of this gift, the baptised are called to become “light” – the light of the faith they have received for their brothers, especially for those who are in darkness and do not perceive glimmers of light on the horizon of their life. … You must take the grace of Baptism that is a gift, and become light for all!” [2]

Anne Osdieck in speaking of Pope Francis’s weekly General Audiences explained that our Baptism “is the point of departure of a journey of conversion that lasts our whole life.”  Pope Francis’s “glimmers of light” signify the light of Christ that enlightens every person.  Can you receive “the light of faith” for your brothers and sisters?  Can you be a light for someone in the darkness? [3]

Do you hear that Marcus – You are about to shine with a very special light on all of us!

Reflection for Sunday, December 16, 2018 (3rd Sunday of Advent) by Mark McCormick

Today we light the pink candle on our wreath- the candle that symbolizes joy on our journey through Advent. The theme of joy is certainly woven through the readings today-  the psalmist proclaims that we should cry out with joy- “for among us is the great and holy one of Israel.” Paul likewise exhorts his followers to joy- “for the Lord really is near!”

If we listen closely though, we might hear a jarring note in all the readings-joy is not something that these people already possessed- it was rather something the prophets encouraged them towards- “people, you really should be joyful- even though right here and right now you feel anything but… .” John the Baptist, himself speaks to a demoralized crowd, weighed down by the occupation of Roman rule. Zephaniah speaks of the need to move his people out of  discouragement, and  Paul speaks of our need to stop feeling so anxious. It all makes me think, there are echoes in this for us today!

I sometimes wonder if other people are like me -in the way I spend so many of my days- worrying about how things will go, what might happen, who might be in danger, if today is the day when the other shoe will drop…   As with my ancient ancestors, joy is in short supply, even though I am thankful for the many blessings in my life, even though I know that Christmas is coming .

And then something happens, well, actually, it happened-  the shoe really did drop, the bottom really did fall out, one of the worst of my daily fears did come true- and all of my carefully-crafted illusion of control and security vanished- in what seemed like a second or two. I won’t occupy you with my tale of desolation, I know that you will have yours too, or that you may have shared a harsh and dreadful journey in the company of someone that you love very dearly. Heartbreaking, almost literally.

And this, as you may know, and as I have come to know, this is that desolate, lonely  space and time- that unhappy place, where joy can enter in. Joy came as I was strengthened by the community of everyday saints who surrounded me-friends, professionals, co-workers, neighbours and parishioners- each in their unique way, according to their own call, propelling me forward. I realized how helpless I was, how dependent was I on the care and compassion of others to see me through.  This new-found humility allowed me  to find joy in the feeling of gratitude.  As wrenching as the worst times can be, the consolation of others is received as a pure gift.

More profoundly still, we find joy in the silent hand of God who, according to John the Baptist, leads us through this baptism of fire with the Holy Spirit. We know it is not through our efforts that we slowly emerge  on the other side- the grace of God has carried us. The knowledge that God truly resides deep in our soul- always has and always will – is a source of immense consolation. In this we experience what Paul expresses so beautifully -the  peace of God that surpasses all understanding. Did you know that Paul wrote these words from a prison  cell?  Like Paul, may we come to know that this peace and this joy is forever ours to keep, despite what misfortune or unhappiness may come our way…

If brokenness is an invitation to joy, healing is a journey away from self and towards others. The psalmist speaks of our new-found strength and confidence, our courage residing in the Lord. How does God want us to use these qualities? The gospel acclamation says it all- The spirit of the Lord is upon us, we have been anointed to bring good news to the poor.  How will this happen?  The crowds surrounding John the Baptist wondered this too. What should we do?”,  they asked him?  (Do you recall John Rietschlin asking this same question of us last week as he concluded his reflection? “What will you do? “) John the Baptist responds today: We use what we have, he says, and we respond according to our call. To the rich people, John tells them to share their cloaks and their food. To the tax collectors, John encourages them to honour their profession by doing that which is right. To soldiers, John asks them to serve nobly and honestly. To the crowd and to us John says begin from where you are, begin from who you are. John himself had a sure sense both of who he was ( a messenger) and who he was not-(the messiah). He lived according to his talents and in fulfillment of his call. And so does John encourages us. Be who you are in the service of others, in the cause of justice.

Zephaniah says that God literally sings and dances because he loves each one of us so much. Baptized in water, baptized in the fires of life, we discover God’s joy and passion for us. May we make God’s joy and passion uniquely ours- in the service of others, and in the cause of justice.

And if we slip into old patterns of worry and despair, the pink candle of Advent remind us that our burdens can be lightened by others, and they can be transformed through God’s grace. For a new mission will soon arise for us-  in the outstretched arms of a new- born child.

Reflection for Sunday, December 9, 2018 (2nd Sunday of Advent) by John Rietschlin

During the last week of November, my thoughts began to turn towards preparing for this Sunday’s reflection and for the coming Advent Season. , During that week, I received a Face Book posting from a friend, James. The images contained in James’s posting reminded me that Advent is not a time for preparing to celebrate something that happened two thousand years ago. Rather, it is a call to open our minds and our hearts to the presence of Jesus born into our world today.

As I pondered, I felt called to share a modern-day story. A story loosely modeled on our scripture passages, this Second Sunday of Advent. You might want to close your eyes as you listen, but there will be a few pictures on the screen as the story unfolds, so I will let you know when to open them to take a peak.

Of course, like many good stories, we begin with “Once upon a time…

…in the 66th year of the reign of Elizabeth II, when Justin Trudeau was Prime Minister of Canada, and Doug Ford was Premier of Ontario, when Jim Watson was mayor of Ottawa, during the papacy of Francis and in the time of Terrance Prendergast as bishop of Ottawa, the word of God came to the people of Saint Joseph’s Parish in Sandy Hill. And it was as though they saw John the Baptist standing right there before them, speaking and proclaiming the words of the prophet Isaiah:

A voice of one crying out in the desert: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths. Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low. The winding roads shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth, and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

And the people of Saint Joseph’s went out from the Sunday mass on that Second Sunday of Advent, back to their homes throughout the whole region of Ottawa and even beyond to prepare the Lord’s way and to seek the Lord’s face and presence in their midst…

One evening, later that week, a parishioner met a young family walking. Clearly they were poor, and certainly not dressed for the weather. Who are these people she wondered? What are their names? She tried to imagine what they might be thinking. Are they nervous, afraid…hungry? Where are they going? Do they have a home here in the city? Are they looking for a home? It’s a young family…a father, mother and a little boy… for an instant, she thought of another young couple many years ago fleeing from a wicked ruler to save their son’s life… Should I speak to them, she wondered? Do they need my help? She hesitated, because she was already late for dinner with her own family…

What would you do?

The next morning, another Saint Joe’s parishioner was walking to work. Each day as he approached his workplace, he saw a man, sometimes alone, sometimes with another. He’s probably homeless. Says he needs money for food, but will he just use it for drink or drugs or cigarettes? Maybe I should help him find his way to the Saint Joe’s supper table? Or the men’s mission? And just a block before, another young guy comes up asking for money too. He looked a lot better off…why doesn’t he get cleaned up and look for a job? Or get connected to an agency to help him with some training? All these homeless people make me nervous… I’d like to help, but I need to get to work.

What would you do?

That night, a couple was watching a TV program about climate change refugees. The couple had been St. Joe’s parishioners for many years and was recently retired. Just last spring they purchased a time share in Mexico and were looking forward to escaping winter for a few weeks every year. The TV program showed scenes of hundreds of people leaving their homes in regions where it was now too hot and dry to live. What are they thinking, the couple asked. How are they feeling? Where will they go? Should Canada welcome some of them? Is our own carbon footprint making this situation worse? But there are so many contributing factors here…what can we do?

What would you do?

And as the days of the second week of Advent unfolded, the parishioners of Saint Joseph’s realized that it is not always easy to see God in each person and to respond to God’s presence in each situation–to make straight paths, to level the valleys and lower the mountains and hills. But they were encouraged by one another’s faithfulness and the small acts of kindness and compassion and caring of everyone in the community. And so, they were strengthened in their resolution of that second Sunday of Advent to continue their journey. To continue to seek the face of God in all those that they met each day–whether at home, or at work, or on the street, or wherever else they might find themselves.

And in doing so, they knew that it would be a good Christmas–one that would last the whole year through.

And so ends the story…or is just beginning?

You decide.