2 Corinthians 9:6 – Brothers and sisters: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully.
God says: I know that there are days when you feel as though I ask too much of you. I understand that there are times when you are too exhausted to take another step in your journey. This is why I have asked you to cast your troubles on my shoulders – for my burden is light and I am ready to carry your worries for you. I see how the world draws you in and I am here to accompany you each day. You have only to call on me.
At times it seems as if the only harvest we reap is anxiety and sadness and we find it difficult to believe the promise of the resurrection. Yet God abides with us in our apprehension. This is the message he wishes to give us – that despite our fears, we are saved. Despite our dread we are redeemed. And despite our wretchedness we are loved. This is the miracle of God’s love. Let us sow the love God gives to us . . . that we might in turn reap God’s love with the harvest.
Enter the word promise in the blog search box and continue to reflect on the promises God intends to keep.
Joy on stone . . .We have never been told that apostleship is easy. It has never been said that discipleship is easily lived. What we have been told, and what has been said is this: your mourning will turn into joy, your reward will be great.
In this chapter Jesus speaks frankly, honestly and openly with his friends. He assures them that once he goes their life will become difficult. He reminds them that this is God’s plan and that once he, Jesus, has made his Exodus, the Holy Spirit will come to live with them – to continue to guide, protect and encourage them.
The apostles – and we – stumble through his meaning. What is this little while of which Jesus speaks? Jesus tells them that they must begin to petition the Father in Jesus’ name. And suddenly these followers of the Christ begin to focus on the coming event: The Resurrection which Jesus predicts. Suddenly, because they are familiar with all of the predictions made in their Testament of Torah, Wisdom and Prophets, they begin to understand that persecution must follow because Jesus is God.
In the world you will have trouble, but take courage, I have conquered the world.
If we are sailing easily through life’s storms, we must be ignoring some of our assignments. If we are never challenged by the headlines, by our friends, by our dear ones, we must not be living in the now. When we hear our thinking going toward “making nice”, “not wanting to upset anyone”, “ignoring something until it goes away or someone else takes care of it”, then we know that we are still stumbling through the meaning of the Christ’s words which he speaks to us today in Chapter 16 of John.
We must not be disheartened when we meet stiff necks, hard hearts, personal agendas. We must call upon Christ to bring us hope, call upon the Holy Spirit to bring us comfort, call upon the Father to bolster our faith that all harm will be turned to good . . . and we must step fully into the arena of life.
And so we pray . . .
Jesus, God, Holy Comforter, we know that you will never lead us falsely, yet we fear the coming storm. We doubt our own ability to follow you. We know that you are always with us, yet your presence is sometimes difficult to feel. We doubt our own steadfastness. We know that your words are true, because you are Truth. We know that your words are loving, because you are Love. We know that the darkness is shattered by your presence, because you are Light. Bolster us with confidence, send us courage, because we know of the persecution of this world . . . and we also know that you have already conquered this world. We ought not to fear, but we are human. Send us your strength. Teach us how to find joy in the stony path of life. Remind us that joy will come of our mourning. Amen.
First written on June 11, 2008. Re-written and posted today as a Favorite.
Tower of David Ruins: JerusalemAt the time that the Jews were returning from their exile, Ezra condemns certain priests who intermarried with the Gentiles strayed from Yahweh. Their solution? To sever relationships with wives and children and make a guilt offering. This is a course of action appropriate for their time but it is not the action that New Testament people will take. If we are People of the Restoration, People of Resurrection and healing, we will build bridges where there is dissent and conflict. We will look for compassionate yet just ways to maintain contact and to heal breaches in relationships.
Let us welcome the guilty . . . for we are among them.
Let us forgive . . . for we are forgiven
From the MAGNIFICAT morning intercessions.
You made all human beings in your image: fill us with reverence for one another. Hear your children’s plea!
You restored us in your image through the work of the cross: teach us to work to restore the dignity of all those degraded by the works of evil. Hear your children’s plea!
You raise us to newness of life in Jesus Christ: fill us always with Easter joy. Hear your children’s plea!
Written on April 16, 2008 and posted today as a Favorite.
We have looked at Job frequently during our Noontimes, and this is good . . . because this book holds so much wisdom. Today we reflect on the opportunity we have each day to rise like a mythical phoenix from the ashes of yesterday.
During this time when we anticipate the celebration of Resurrection, New Hope, and New Life, it is also a time to celebrate the quality of mercy which creates new life from old. We learn so much more deeply when we are strained to a limit. We remember the lesson so much better when we have felt the panic of knowing that we have skated too close to the edge of the ice. We know, feel and can give compassion with so much more integrity when we have received it from someone. When we have been at the end of a rope or at the bottom of a pit and we have received a healing and helping hand. This is when our character is forged. This is how we draw close to who we can be. This is how we become genuine.
The goal of suffering well is to allow the conversion of our pain to a healing, compassionate response, and to offer this new-found empathy to those who follow. We become the experienced ear, the honest voice, the curing hand. And when we think about it, we realize that this is the only way that suffering can make any sense.
So today and all days, let us remember that each morning we are given an awesome gift as we open our eyes and rise to greet the new day. We are given again the opportunity to rise from our own ashes.
We usually spend time with this portion of Mark’s Gospel in the spring as we near Easter; but it is also fitting to spend time with this quickly paced, action-packed Gospel as we approach the last, brief week of Advent that 2012 offers to us. In Mark’s portrayal of Jesus we see a leader who warns his follows of the coming destruction that will look like the end. We might need to hear these words today as we look at local and world events.
So often we see that life is dangerous and destructive. It seems that the promise of goodness is overshadowed by the power of darkness. Frequently we witness the victimization of the innocent who suffer at the hands of the wicked. It appears to us that those who practice corruption and betrayal with such swift precision escape any negative consequences of their actions. They squirm away from justice and delight in the evil they have wrought. Sometimes bad news arrives with a loud chorus of alarm; at other times it whispers into our lives on cat-like feet of murmuring insinuation. It announces itself with pride or glides into our lives almost unnoticed and before we know what to say or how to act we are overtaken; and yet . . . this malevolence is repeatedly drowned out by the Good News of revivification. This is what we witness as we read these final chapters of Mark. We are assured that despite gloomy forebodings and dire predictions we do constantly experience renaissance and restoration in the promise of Christ . . . the promise of the Nativity of the Prince of Peace and Light.
Today we might be swept away by the treachery of those close to Jesus; we read about the coming ruin of the Temple; we struggle with the Lesson of the Fig Tree. But we must see that we are also anointed with Christ; we prepare for the Passover with Christ; and we shudder with the miracle of the risen Christ. If we might place ourselves in Christ when evil approaches, we will marvel at the transforming power of the empty tomb. We will climb from the pit of despair to the height of salvation. When we read Mark’s rapid, sweeping, final description of the torture, the death and the annihilation of Christ . . . we are also shown the healing . . . the renewal . . . and the guarantee of God’s promised love for us.
As the earth transits its orbit around the sun and moves through times of darkness and cold to return to the warmth and light, so do we journey through shadow and bitterness to come back to God’s mercy and security. With Christ, let us travel through our agony to arrive at our own restoration. Let us stand boldly against conspiracy to secure unity with all. And let us not fear the threat of death and division for hidden in all of this suffering . . . is Christ who leads us to life everlasting.
This is the Promise of Advent. This is the Promise of Death. This is the Promise of Resurrection.
The Third Sunday of Advent – Gaudete Sunday – December 16, 2012
John 21
Knowing Joy
Servais Pinckaers, O.P. (1925-2008)I few years ago I came across this final chapter of John on the Third Sunday in Advent which in the traditional church calendar is called Gaudete Sunday, or Rejoice Sunday. It may seem odd to spend time on Christ’s resurrection just as we make our last preparations for the coming of the Christ Child but when we understand the overwhelming joy of the apostles as they interact with the Risen Christ . . . we begin to understand more fully what it is we anticipate in the Nativity.
Now that I have re-read the Noontime reflection from this day some years ago, I look back and realize that although I have taken a road less traveled it has been the better road. I have taken the way with bumps and disappointments but one on which I have learned about balance and moderation, one on which I have fully given myself over to God’s hands rather than trusting myself to my own. The less journeyed path has led through dark days and troubled nights but it has resulted in a much fuller life in the Spirit. The less popular route has provided me with lessons and tools with which to handle grief in a transformative way. It has taught me that there is a clear difference between pleasure and joy . . . and it has shown me that God always calls us to know the joy he has in store for us.
From my present place I can look back to see that what I yearned for that day I now have in abundance: peace despite betrayal, calm despite deceit, joy despite trial. The road less traveled had at first seemed like a dark, forbidding walkway that wended its way over frightening depths and twisted through dense forests. Yet with new tools and better perspective I see that despite its hazards this path curls through open leas and provides bridges for the yawning abysses along the way. This frightening, least-traveled way has become a place of constant familiarity, a place where terror and anxiety melt as trust in God grows, a place where outrageous hope replaces despair.
On this day several years ago as I struggled with my fear of the less-traveled road, I came upon an excerpt from the work of Servais Pinckaers, O.P., a professor emeritus of moral theology at the University of Fribourg, Switzerland in which he made a distinction between pleasure and joy. He wrote: Pleasure is only a contrivance devised by nature to obtain for the creature the preservation of its life; it does not indicate the direction in which life is thrusting. But joy always announces that life has succeeded, gained ground, conquered. All great joy has a triumphant note. . . Joy is perfectly compatible with moral excellence; it is a sign of this excellence and contributes to its perfection. The fount of joy lies in the inner depths of our being, at the roots of our freedom, when this freedom is open to the outpourings of goodness and love. Yet, in order for the waters of this fount to pour forth within us, we have to make a personal choice of great price: When we receive the call to a greater good, a good that will reveal to us the true joy at the core of our lives, will we know how to break free from the charms of pleasure through a liberating renunciation? The discovery of joy beyond our trials is a decisive step on the way to moral maturity. One even comes to perceive, [that joy,] upon fulfilling its requirements . . . does not destroy, but rather refines and rightly orders, pleasure.
And so we pray . . .
When we receive the call to a greater good, a good that will reveal to us the true joy at the core of our lives, will we know how to break free from the charms of pleasure through a liberating renunciation? Good and gentle God, grant us your outrageous hope so that despite turmoil and chaos and grief we will always abandon our search for mere pleasure . . . so that we might know your full and indescribable joy. Amen.
Cameron, Peter John. “Day by Day.” MAGNIFICAT. 17.12 (2006): 226-227. Print.
![Pinckaers_4[1]](https://thenoontimes.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/pinckaers_41.jpg?w=256&h=229)
The Noontimes 