<![CDATA[St. Mary of Magdala, an Inclusive Catholic Community - Past Homilies/Blog]]>Wed, 17 Apr 2024 00:35:14 -0400Weebly<![CDATA[Continuing the Work of the Christ]]>Sun, 07 Apr 2024 04:00:00 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/continuing-the-work-of-the-christPicture
Continuing the Work of the Christ
 
April 7, 2024, 2nd Sunday of Easter
Helen Weber-McReynolds
Readings:  Acts 1:3-5, 12-14, 15;  Ps.118; 1 John 1:1-4; 3:11, 14, 16; John 20:1, 11-18
 
           Let’s try to picture one hundred-twenty followers of Jesus gathered together in Jerusalem, including Mary, his mother, and his siblings. Our first reading tells us they were gathered “with one heart,” in prayer, waiting for the promise of Jesus, that they would be baptized with the Holy Spirit. I can imagine that they were filled with a huge mixture of emotions. They were probably elated that Jesus’ spirit was still vital and alive in their midst. But they were scared as well. How could they not be? Their leader had just been brutally executed, by an empire that had previously crucified thousands. They no doubt feared they could be next. Yet they were encouraged by the unity they felt. I imagine that they reminisced about all Jesus’ teachings and the beautiful way he had related to people, going out of his way to approach the marginalized. I imagine that together, they felt grief, and amazement, fear, and great joy, uncertainty, and solidarity.

           I assume Mary Magdalene was there too. I can hear her repeating her experience to each of them, how Jesus’ message was loud and clear to her: Don’t cling to the human memory you have of me. Instead, let everyone know that I can live forever through you, through all of you. Remember my example and do as I did.

           We might wonder why Mary Magdalene was the first to whom Jesus appeared alive. It is clearly documented that she was the first in the gospels of both John and Mark. We can also get some hints from reading the non-canonical gospels of Mary Magdalene and Phillip. These documents tells us that she was “first among the apostles” even when they were all alive, for one reason: she best understood Jesus’ message and was best able to actualize it in her own life. Her position of leadership was earned, and Jesus validated this specifically. Mary Magdalene is our namesake because, of all the apostles, she was the first and most capable follower and teacher of Jesus’ Way.

            I think they probably asked themselves and one another the question of what exactly had happened to Jesus? The sense of his presence was strong, and he it certainly felt to them as if he was alive. Yet they had witnessed him on that cross.

           We know the gospels are not historical documents. They often compress time for the sake of conveying their message. When I think of the disciples all gathered, the first beginnings of the early church, I think they probably had to work these ideas out slowly in their minds, not in a few days, but over weeks and months and years. I see them talking all through the night, trying to remember all of what Jesus had said and what they should do to make sure his message also lived on. I picture many of them coming to the conclusion, one after another, that Jesus had chosen them to keep God’s creative mercy and compassion alive. That it was up to them to spread the Good News that love can defeat cruelty, corruption, judgementalism, prejudice, and greed, just as Jesus had said.

           So I’m betting the disciples had to grow into these decisions, some quickly, some little by little. The way I picture it, Mary Magdalene and the other apostles had a big influence on the others, testifying about how strong Jesus’ commitment and single-minded love had affected them.
 
           So I don’t think it is surprising that we continue to grow into our faith in Jesus’ resurrection also. We listen to the Easter Gospel accounts and celebrate joyfully that He is Risen. But then, like the disciples gathered in Jerusalem, we have to figure out what we should do. There is so much wrong in our world. It is easy to get cynical about our ability to effect any important changes. Yet we have all witnessed, at some time or another, impressive unselfishness and courageous witness to justice that actually has made a difference. The bravery of the aid workers trying to help in Ukraine and Gaza right now is an example. So we know that there is strength in numbers, and that if we work together, it is possible to continue building the Reign of God right where we are.
 
           Our second reading reminded us so beautifully: “For this is the message we have heard from the beginning: We should love one another. We know that we, too, have passed from death to life because we love one another. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them.” Let us continue working to grow into how our actions can keep the Christ alive.





 
 
* It is important to note that the verses Act 1: 13-14 are only included in the canonical Catholic lectionary every 3 yrs., and for the 7th Sunday of Easter, the readings for which are usually replaced by those for the Ascension. John 20:11-18 is not included anywhere in the traditional parish lectionary. So most Catholic parishioners never hear the story of Mary Magdala being the first to greet the resurrected Christ, and the person who transmitted the news of his resurrection to the rest of the disciples. Pope Francis named St. Mary of Magdala an Apostle in 2015.

Those disciples had seen how Jesus lived his mission – never focusing on sin, but drawing forth each person's greatest potential. That was now their call. (McGlone)

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<![CDATA[The Dance Continues, Alleluia!]]>Sat, 30 Mar 2024 04:00:00 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/the-dance-continues-alleluiaThe Dance Continues, Alleluia!
 
Easter Vigil, March 30, 2024
Helen Weber-McReynolds

Readings:  Genesis 1: 1-5; Stars Beyond the Stars, Rumi
Psalm Response: Lord of the Dance
Genesis 8: 18-19, 9: 8-16; Remember, by Joyce Harjo
Isaiah 61: 1-7; Broken, Unbroken, by Mary Oliver
Exodus 15: 19-20, 13; I Praise the Dance, by Augustine of Hippo
Romans 1:19-20; Stars Beyond the Stars, by Rumi
Mark 16: 1-8

           This is a long service, so I will keep my share of this collaboration short. To me, the message of Easter is that the dance continues: God created the cosmos, including Jesus and all other beings, human and non-human, out of love and nothing else but love. Jesus came to teach us to love one another as God loves us. This was a threatening idea to those whose love was devoted to power, control, and wealth, so it got him in trouble. In fact, eventually he was executed for promoting the ideas that selflessness, sharing, and defending the defenseless is the only real sustainable human path.

           Jesus died not for our sins, but for love of us. He died to show us the ultimate act of love: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. God’s plan was not to send Jesus to punish him for what we had done, but to show that the death-dealing ways of this world can be overcome. They can be overcome by authentic justice, by waging peace, by valuing all beings equally, as God does, and by putting away our selfishness. Rejecting violence, greed and discrimination frees us. It frees us to join in the dance, God’s dance of love, established before the world began and continuing through life eternal. Resurrection means we can take part forever, that Jesus’ life continues as the Christ forever, and that our lives are one with His and with those of all creatures. It means that the music will never end, that God’s love is for eternity, and that we are called to invite one another to celebrate it and move with it, now and forever.

           To me, the message of Easter is new life! Another chorus, another swing around the dance floor, another chance to invite everybody to join in! Let us rejoice and be glad in it, Alleluia!
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<![CDATA[March 03rd, 2024]]>Sun, 03 Mar 2024 05:00:00 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/march-03rd-2024A Sabbath Life
 
3rd Sunday of Lent, March 3, 2024
Helen Weber-McReynolds
2 Chron 36: 11-12, 14-21; Ps. 137; James 4: 7-10; Mark 11: 12-21
 
           We hear a lot about mindfulness these days, about concentrating on the present moment and appreciating its beauty, of relishing the interaction with the people you are with, and of not trying to multitask or let yourself be distracted by letting your thoughts rush ahead to what is about to happen next. Mindfulness can help us prioritize people over accomplishments and recognizing our blessings over greedy acquisition.

           To me mindfulness has a connection to the idea of Sabbath, which we have inherited from our Jewish ancestors. Sabbath, that 3rd Commandment, made Israel’s ethical code unique from that of other societies. Most other groups at that time in history agreed that murder, lying, and stealing destabilized societies. But the idea of Sabbath brought love into Israel’s way of life. Their agreement to set aside one day each week for worship, rest, and family life meant they valued people over work and profit, and respect for the well-being of everyone in the community over competition and wealth. And the fact that they believed there was a God who loved them enough to ask them to cement this loving tradition into their way of life made them aware that they were uniquely loved and chosen. Eventually, they established a Temple to honor this God, a center of their worship, a place for all to relate directly to God.
  
​         All of which is helpful, I think, to be able to understand Jesus’ surprising behavior in today’s Gospel. In the chapters in Mark’s gospel before this one, Jesus was journeying toward his final visit to Jerusalem. Along the way, he blessed little children and cured blind Bartimaeus. His actual entrance into the city was triumphant, but non-violent and humble. So what explains his disruption in the Temple?
   
        Mark relates that what Jesus found when he entered the Temple that day was not respectful worship, but exploitation of the most vulnerable members of Jerusalem’s Jewish community. Scholars of Temple architecture and tradition tell us that vendors of animals for ritual sacrifice were selling them there to women and lepers, who were obligated by purity laws to buy them, to be ritually cleansed, and able to rejoin full religious community participation. These merchants had turned the Sabbath and the Temple into the opposite of respect and honor. They were preying on the poor and their devotion to religious regulations. So Jesus felt he had no choice but to kick them out.
   
        It seems like Mark included the fig tree story to emphasize the point that Jesus expected much more from the Temple and the people of Jerusalem. Though it was early for figs, this tree had lots of leaves, so he was hoping for the best from it. But it bore no fruit, just as the Temple was barren of spiritual and social fruitfulness.

       Our first reading, from 2 Chronicles, tells of desecration of the Temple by corrupt religious leaders centuries before, who refused to listen to the prophet Jeremiah. Consequently, the terrible King Nebuchadnezzar was able to defeat the people of Jerusalem and cast them into exile in Babylon. The reading ends with reference to 70 years of lost Sabbaths. The people had lost their way, had stopped honoring the life of respect and justice for the earth and all the people on it that they had vowed to follow. They had let their covenant with God become desolate.

      Jesus taught that where two or three are gathered in his name, he is present. His ultimate sacrifice of love and resurrection replaced the Temple as the center of our worship. But our obligation to lead a Sabbath life remains the same. Where does our commitment to taking time for worship, rest, and family life stand? Are we fully mindful of prioritizing people and all the other wonders God has blessed us with over success, wealth, prestige, and other selfish distractions? It seems to me that Lent offers us a special Sabbath time to contemplate these questions.]]>
<![CDATA[Fog, Clouds, and Moments of Transformation]]>Sun, 25 Feb 2024 05:00:00 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/fog-clouds-and-moments-of-transformation2nd Sunday of Lent,, February 25, 2024
Helen Weber-McReynolds
Exodus 33: 9-20, 34:4-6, 27-32; Ps. 15; 2 Peter 1: 16-18; Mark 9: 2-10.
 
           You may have had the experience of driving through thick fog. You cannot see where you are going. The mist swirls around you, blocking your vision of the road ahead. You have to slow way down to be able to avoid hitting other cars or even be able to follow where the road leads. Sometimes, if you are walking in fog, it is so thick you cannot even see your hand in front of your face. It is disorienting. It is frightening. You have to watch and listen very carefully to be able to navigate your way safely. You may even have flown through thick clouds. Every few moments, there may be a brief break, and you can see light, but then you may enter another cloud and be blinded again. Finally, the pilot manages to guide your plane above or below the clouds and you can see the way ahead. The sky is clear. You know where you are going once again.

           All three of our readings today culminate in amazing brightness, clarity, vision, and radiance. But where in these stories does God’s voice come from? God’s voice comes from the cloud, the uncertainty, the foggy shadow, the area of unknowing and searching and blindness. Maybe transformation is found through dwelling in the cloud a while.

           Our Gospel tells us that when Peter, James, and John went up the mountain with Jesus, and saw Jesus transfigured with radiant, dazzling brightness, they were terrified. Peter started babbling, talking crazy. We are told he did not know what he was saying. Then a cloud appeared, casting its shadow over them. And from out of the cloud there came the voice of God, explaining the truth, clearing up the situation, confirming what they already suspected about Jesus- that he was one with God, beloved and sent to speak the truth. Our second reading uses similar language—stating that, when the disciples were on the mountain with Jesus, the voice of the Sublime Presence came from the cloud, honoring and glorifying Jesus, saying, “This is my Beloved, my own, on whom my favor rests.” And our first reading tells us that God appeared in a cloud to Moses, identifying Godself by name, and proclaiming, “I am your God, compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abundant in kindness and faithfulness.” After forty days, Moses descended from the mountain, radiantly transformed, and with God’s gift of a clear covenant and way of life for the people Israel, written in stone.  We know that God appeared to Elijah from a cloud on Mount Carmel, as related in the first book of Kings, chapter 18. And there are other examples in scripture of God “coming upon” people to speak to them, as from a cloud, like when the Holy Spirit is said to have “come upon” Mary, after she consented to become the mother of Jesus.

            We all have times of fog and darkness in our lives, when the way is obscured, when we don’t know where we are going. We are forced to slow down and look and listen to discern the right path. To me, this is the meaning of Lent. It is a season to listen for God’s voice, to take more time for prayer and study, to try to be more aware of how God may be calling us. God calls us all to transfiguration, not usually in a sudden blaze of glory, but step by step, with growth in stages. We work and pray for transformation one day at a time, one Lent at a time, one season of clouded, confused vision at a time. But often we are blessed by moments of clarity, of transformation, of resurrection. We can see a way to help our human family members, and we step up and do the hard work to accomplish it. We identify an injustice and we do all we can to work together to change laws or raise money or educate people to make sure things are put right.

           In Matthew’s version of the Transfiguration, God’s words are said to be, “This is my beloved Son, in whom is all my delight.” At the Transfiguration, then, we are in the presence of delight. The brightness with which Jesus is described can seem intimidating. Who can be perfect? Who sees things completely clearly? But that’s not what is going on here. God’s love is tender and delighted, not only for Jesus, but for us, though sometimes we have a hard time believing it. And God asks us to participate in that tender, delighted love, by listening for God’s presence, and then passing that holy tenderness on.
 
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<![CDATA[Healing and restoration to the community]]>Mon, 05 Feb 2024 00:07:55 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/healing-and-restoration-to-the-communityHealing and restoration to the community
 
5th Sunday in Ordinary Time, February 4, 2024
Helen Weber-McReynolds
Job 5:9-11,16,18,27; Ps. 147; 1 Cor 9:1-6; Mark 1:29-31
 
Over the course of forty-two years working as a physician assistant, I have done a lot of thinking about the process of healing. Mostly I have thought about what a blessing it is to be involved in such a holy process, because, in the final analysis, it is God who is the ultimate healer. We who participate in the art and science of medicine can make a diagnosis and prescribe a therapy, but we know that God does the actual healing. Humans can’t actually make tissues heal or force the immune system to kill an infection. God controls those processes.
 
On the other hand, there are many ways I think God calls us to heal one another. For example, when we have conflicts in relationships, we have a responsibility to talk to one another and work those conflicts out. We also have a responsibility, I think, to participate in increasing scientific knowledge, if we can, or at least to use the knowledge we have. We are even called to heal ourselves, I think, by using what we know about diet and exercise and proper rest, for another example.
 
Our Gospel today is short but can teach us a lot about God’s healing. The verses from Mark’s gospel that we read today follow directly the ones we read last week. That gospel reading said that Jesus went to the synagogue on the Sabbath and taught (“with new authority.”) Today’s gospel described what happened later on that same Sabbath. It told us that after being at the synagogue, Jesus went to Simon and Andrew’s house. There Jesus found that Simon’s mother-in-law (Mark does not tell us her name) was ill with some kind of fever. Jesus went directly to her. He took her hand, and helped to raise her up from her bed. We are told “then the fever left her, and she began to serve, to deacon, to them.” In other words, Simon’s mother-in-law was restored to active participation in her community. Jesus helped her get beyond the isolation and indignity of illness, and back to the freedom to serve the people around her, to what she felt called by God to do.
 
In other stories of Jesus healing people in the gospels, we can see this restoration to the community is a common thread. Scientific understanding of disease was primitive in Jesus’ time, and it was often attributed to sin. So sick people tended be isolated from the community, and even disallowed from religious inclusion. Jesus’ healing may not have necessarily included biological cure, but we know from these stories that they definitely included social and collective healing of illness. In many of them, Jesus even called the community to participate in the social restoration of the healed person. For example, he asked the people around Lazarus to unbind him from the funeral cloths after he was raised. When he cured a person with leprosy, he told the person to go and show and show evidence of the healing to the priest, in other words, to ask for re-entry to the religious community. When he cured Jairus’ daughter, he told them to feed her, to help her get back to the family circle around the dinner table. We can think of the woman with the hemorrhage as taking responsibility for returning herself to the community, by seeking to touch Jesus’ clothing, to end the isolation the religious impurity laws had imposed on her.
 
So for Jesus, restoration to love and inclusion in the community, and the ability to serve within the community, seems to have been integral to healing. It seems he, like Job, sought to reverse the idea that illness and accident were due to sin and therefore sick and injured people should be excluded. Not in the Job passage we read today, but in chapter 7, verse 1, Job asked, “Is not human life on earth a drudgery?” In other words, he recognized suffering as part of the human condition, and not necessarily a punishment from God. So the priority for Jesus, and Job, was not to blame people for their sins, but to bring them back to love and service.
 
This should be our priority, as well, I think: to do what we can to help heal the inability of people to be included in participation and service in their communities. This might mean healing from racism, or from addiction, or from poverty, or from exclusion due to gender or sexuality, or immigration status. It seems we have a lot of reasons for excluding people these days. What can we do to help break down maybe one of these barriers to inclusion, even in a small way? I think that is what God is calling us to today.

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<![CDATA[Epiphany and Epiphanies]]>Sun, 07 Jan 2024 05:00:00 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/epiphany-and-epiphaniesEpiphany and Epiphanies

Feast of Epiphany, January 7, 2024
Lauren Basile and Helen Weber-McReynolds
Sirach 24: 1-5, 12-20; Ps. 96 (Gather #93); Eph 3: 2-11; Matt 2: 1-12

Lauren-
 
          A few nights ago, my son's, both self proclaimed atheists, were at our dinner table. The partner of my oldest son, herself raised Catholic, commented on my Christmas t-shirt, which read, "Rejoice in the birth of a dark-skinned, undocumented immigrant", and has a colorful graphic of the three Wisemen leading their camels to the manger with Mary, Joseph and Jesus. I thanked her, then started to share an epiphany of my own, directly related to the message on the t-shirt, and to the census, purportedly ordered by Herod; what the reason for that story might actually have been. As soon as I said that the census might not have actually happened, and that the three Wisemen might not have actually existed, both son burst into conversation, vehemently defending the story. I was stunned into silence. 
 
          Neither of these two young men believe in the existence of God. They scoff at the idea of a virgin birth.  But try to deny the existence of the three Wisemen, and they weren't having any of it! Wow! I watched both of their faces as they checked out their facts with each other, both looking at his brother for confirmation. When the discussion between my sons stopped, I merely said, "And that could be true too." After all, what is truth anyway? 
 
          But I haven't been able to get the whole thing out of my mind. Why were the three Wiseman so important to them? Why are they so important to me? Why and how do I honor their story? Were their reactions somehow related to the Epiphany rituals we'd kept as a family? How do those, and any other rituals we celebrate really connect us and create our truths? For me, those rituals often focus on food. I love the creative outlet that baking affords me. The way it can bring me into the present moment, blocking out everything else. When I combine it with ritual, as odd as it might sound, it can bring me into communion with the lives of those we're celebrating. As I explored that thought, I realized how basic eating, baking and sharing food is, and how sometimes it really is that simple.
 
          I woke still thinking of why I love the tradition of celebrating Epiphany. One of the things a tradition like this does for me is to remind me of the incarnate life of Jesus...the fact that God became human in Jesus. Celebrating a physical event that impacted Jesus (and all of us) connects me in a more tangible way to his earthly humanity and all that goes with it. Epiphany also makes me think about the times in my own life that I had specific plans (habits, ways of doing things  etc.,) and heard the Holy Spirit urging me in a different direction (like the three 'wise men'). The older I get, the easier it is for me to stop, listen and trust that voice. (It's never been wrong.) Change can be hard, but when I listen, the change, not only in outward manifestation, but inner, has reset my path. toward love, faith and hope. I give thanks for this beautiful gift

 Helen:
 
          Epiphany invites us to cultivate insight, to set ourselves up for revelation from God. There have probably been times in history when people have had sudden jolting messages from God when they least expected them. But I think we’re much more likely to understand new truths if we regularly assume a listening stance, if we take the time frequently to quiet our minds and pray and open ourselves to God’s loving guidance. Historians tell us the Magi studied the stars and sky charts regularly, to try to discern the truths they conveyed, and what changes were taking place. If they hadn’t, they would not have noticed the appearance of the new star they decided to follow. They probably did not just look up one night and say, “Oh, I don’t remember seeing that one before.” No, they regularly searched the skies for cosmic guidance, for clues to the meaning of the earth’s turning. And when they noticed a change, they decided to pursue it.
 
          Matthew’s is the only gospel that includes the account of the Magi. What were his reasons for telling this story? Certainly, to emphasize the reality of the Incarnation, I think. To make his own statement of the wonderful mystery of the presence of God among us in human form. But also I think Matthew wanted to wake us up to the idea that all kinds of people-- even outsiders, non-Jews from Persia, were longing for spiritual insight and were willing to travel around the world to find it. These astronomers wanted to meet the young child they had heard would lead all peoples, not by force, but by peace, unity, and goodwill. Still today, we are searching, we are longing, for the guiding star that will tell us how to end war, how to settle differences, how to live in peace, how to make sure resources are distributed fairly—in other words, for the wisdom of how to learn to love one another.
 
          Our first reading, from the book called the Wisdom of Sirach, conveyed that Wisdom is God’s gift of self to us, and that God’s mandate to us is to make the presence of God/Wisdom known in the world. Beautifully portrayed as a feminine presence, she claims growth like tall trees and fragrant plants, having been welcomed by God’s people. Wisdom grows in receptive environments, Sirach tells us.
 
          The writer of Ephesians advanced this idea of wisdom growing in those who welcome her, by joyfully relating the way non-Jewish people welcomed the teachings of Jesus. He claims as his mission bringing the Word to as many Gentile searchers as possible, acknowledging that people of all faiths were seeking spiritual wisdom, not just Jewish people. They were all receptive to Jesus’ unique teachings of building up love, of a new kind of society based on peaceful cooperation and radical inclusion of everyone.
 
          So I think we are called to welcome some silence and listen for God’s movement in our lives. But then I think we are also called to be God’s epiphany to the world. Let us be living examples of insight, of new and contagious wisdom. Let us bear the knowledge of the value of peace and non-violence as the source of true power in the world. Let us preach true empathy, with words only if necessary. Let us be the stars that light the way to self-understanding, sharing of our gifts, and kindness in all things.
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<![CDATA[Peace and Love are not passive.]]>Sun, 31 Dec 2023 05:00:00 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/peace-and-love-are-not-passivePeace and love are not passive.

Feast of the Presentation, December 31, 2023
Helen Weber-McReynolds, RWCP
Numbers 6: 22-27; Ps. 98; Ephesians 2: 11-19, 22; Luke 2: 25-38

           I recently learned a song called Crowded Table, by the Highwomen. It depicts a big house where everyone is welcome, where everyone works together to make the world better and more inclusive and fair for everyone. It says that creating this home will be hard work, but if we band together we can create it. It also says that everyone is a little broken, but everyone belongs, no matter who they are.
           Taken together, I think the ideas in our readings today add up very similarly. The idea that God joined humanity in the human form of Christ, to help teach all people how to build a world of love is a simplistic but true encapsulation, I think. The beauty of these readings is that they display many of the subtle facets of this story. And they also point out that building peace and community is not easy, and that the Christ’s victory will exact a high price.
           In the first reading, from Numbers, God instructs Moses on how Israel’s leaders are to invoke God’s blessing on their people. God conveys that God loves the people and wishes always for their well-being and wholeness, their shalom. They are invited to pray frequently to God for God’s love to be with the people. This is listed as a duty of the priests of Israel.
           The second reading emphasizes the wider scope of God’s love. Not only are the community of Israel included, but non-Judeans as well. The idea that God’s love included all the nations was previously heard in Genesis, Isaiah, and other parts of the Old Testament. But this follower of Paul, writing to the church at Ephesus, confirmed that the new Christian community welcomed both Jews and Gentiles. The letter reminds its readers that Jesus preached peace to all- belonging, community, friendship, and inclusion. He preached blessing from a God who loved all.
           In the Gospel, Luke depicted a beautiful blessing in the Temple in Jerusalem, on Jesus, whom Mary and Joseph had brought for the customary rituals for new babies and parents. The elder Simeon and the prophet Anna, holy people who fasted and prayed daily and worked in the Temple, are described as recognizing Jesus as destined to save his people. Luke’s composition included Simeon’s prescient statement that Jesus will be a provocative, contentious sign, and that the family’s life will be touched by sorrow. Simeon quoted Isaiah’s statement that salvation will be for Gentiles as well as Jews. It all adds up to another picture of incarnation for us, of God come to earth to be part of all of us, to a promise of love and inclusion in the form of a vulnerable child. Added to the Christmas passages of angels and shepherds, it is once again the birth of Hope in the infant Jesus.
           The life of a child carries with it the hope of a world transformed, and the life of Jesus obviously held extraordinary hope. Over the course of his life, death, and resurrection, Jesus showed us the ultimate example of love, and the way to achieve peace and inclusion for everyone, if we are brave enough to follow it. Unfortunately, over 2000 years later, we still have not completed the project, and probably never will, though many have made progress. Juxtaposed with the Christmas manger images in our minds are those of children and families starving, dying, and fleeing their homes, in wars, climate crises, and efforts to escape extortion. Even in the very land where Jesus was born, bombing which seems indiscriminate or even targeted at civilians, has killed, injured, or displaced hundreds of thousands of people. Shalom for all seems very far away.
           Our love is our hope. Jesus, love incarnate, is our example. The solstice has passed, and we know the darkest part of this winter is over. Incorporating the non-violent, revolutionary love of Jesus in all our human encounters is the way we will make the world less violent and more loving. Refusing to give in to bitterness and despair is a big part of the effort. Peace is not passive. We will all have to work at creating it every day. But if we all work together, we can inch our way toward a world of love. One relationship at a time, one kindness, one protest, one outreach project, each crowded table dinner— these are the basis of our Christmas hope. ​]]>
<![CDATA[Honoring our baptism:  How are we called?]]>Sun, 03 Dec 2023 05:00:00 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/honoring-our-baptism-how-are-we-called
Honoring our baptism:  How are we called?


First Sunday of Advent, December 3, 2023
Helen Weber-McReynolds, RWCP
Isaiah 12: 1-5; Romans 1: 7-8, 14-17; Mark 1: 1-13
 Psalm- Isaiah 12- With Joy You Shall Draw Water (hymnal #148)
 
           Baptism in the early church was not to be taken lightly. Historians tell us that baptism preparation in those days involved about three years of study, spiritual instruction by a mentor, and scrutinizing one’s past life, while resolving to change to a life following the example of Jesus. It required candidates to declare specifically what they would do to help build up the Christian community. In that time of persecution, being baptized could be dangerous, and certainly required bravery. But for those with eyes of faith, choosing baptism was choosing spiritual life, and membership in the community of the God who brought salvation, as it is today.

          Our readings today also center on new beginnings and redemption. In the Isaiah passage, we heard how the people of Israel anticipated their new beginning after their exile from their land and their Temple ended. They did not know when that would be, but they were strengthened by the audacious, resilient, defiant Jewish hope that God stands with those the world rejects. The reading tells how, still in the midst of their suffering, they composed the song with which they would celebrate their salvation. We sang it today—“With joy you shall draw water….”

           In the epistle, we heard about the young Christian community at Rome, just starting out. Paul praised them for their strong faith, which he said was rooted in belief in the Gospel and which caused justice to arise for all. Paul seemed surprised that God’s word attracted both Jewish and Gentile believers. It makes me wonder—do I sometimes assume incorrectly that people are not interested in learning more about God? Is my focus too narrow?

           And we heard about of the beginning of the ministry of Jesus, as depicted in the first chapter of the gospel attributed to Mark. We heard about the repentance and faith of the followers of John the Baptist, who were starting new lives of seeking justice and love for all. Jesus and all the others went into the Jordan River intentionally to pledge to love God more, to promise to help the people around them more, to become more aware of why injustice was happening and to protest it and try to implement better, more just systems.

          All these people saw God as their deliverer, as the one calling them away from lives of self-centeredness to lives of living for others. In other words, to lives of meaning, of passing along to others the love God offers us.

           During Advent, we are called to see God as our deliverer also. God can deliver us from hopelessness. It’s easy to slip in that direction, when we see the war footage from around the world on the news every day, and hear the speeches of politicians who are making ending democracy their express purpose. But we are called to that same audacious hope that Isaiah’s community held onto. We are called to see God in all the threatened, sick, poor, and cold people around us. We are called to solidarity, in this season of hedonism, with all those who suffer. We are called to help in any way we can, be it locally, or around the world. As Fr. Daniel Horan said in the National Catholic Reporter this week,

           “Advent is a time to remember that God entered this world uncoerced and willingly, and that Christ's arrival as a vulnerable child is an act of solidarity with all people, but especially with those who are in the most precarious positions in society… (Our) hope is tied to the sober awareness that God does not call us to flee from this imperfect and hurting world but to enter more deeply into it as we strive to work for social justice and peace after the example of Jesus Christ.”

           I don’t think God expects any of us to solve all the problems we see, but she does want us to do something, to at least pray for people, maybe to contribute financially, maybe to write our legislators, at least to speak up in protest, and to do even more if we can. I always believe that grounding ourselves in prayer is the best way to discern what God’s call entails. This season of cold and dark and quiet is a good time for prayer. The prerequisites for our baptisms were certainly not as strenuous as for those of the early Christians. But that does not mean that we should not, this Advent, commit to honoring our baptism by studying the injustice in our world and playing some part in ending it.]]>
<![CDATA[A call to recognize each person as part of the flock to be served]]>Sun, 26 Nov 2023 23:52:02 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/a-call-to-recognize-each-person-as-part-of-the-flock-to-be-servedA call to recognize each person as part of the flock to be served

Feast of Christ the Servant, November 26, 2023
Helen Weber-McReynolds, RWCP
Ezekiel 34: 11-12, 15-17; Responsorial Psalm: Like a Shepherd; Romans 15: 25-29; Matthew 25: 31-40
 
           When we think of servant leaders, of shepherds in the example of Jesus, there are many famous historic examples, Rosalyn Carter among them, may she rise in glory. But this morning, I am not going to talk about any of them. The person who comes to my mind is my friend Mary Ellen, may she also rest in peace. Mary Ellen led our food co-op, which was how I met her. She believed in helping families buy healthy, fresh food at reasonable prices. Better yet, she believed in helping people grow their own food. She tilled gardens for people every spring, and dispensed lots of free gardening and canning advice in the process. Having grown up on a farm in Iowa, she was a rich storehouse of knowledge. She made her living cleaning houses, splitting firewood, and doing other odd jobs. She was single and never had any children, but for years, she took care of our four children every Wednesday evening, when I had late clinic hours. Our kids have sweet memories of the stories she told and the funny things she did. She traveled to Kenya several times, where she sponsored a hospital. She was always giving people fabric and patterns so they could help her make hospital gowns. She would sell beautiful fabric made by local Kenyan artisans as well. Our dining rooms curtains were made from some. She was Mennonite, an example of a peaceful, loving, charitable person if ever there was one.

           We join the Comprehensive Catholic Lectionary again this year in a different take on the Feast of Christ the King, recognizing not only that God’s greatness transcends gender, but also that Jesus’ example was that of a servant leader, one who lead by guiding, teaching, and healing, rather than by control or power over. We know that sometimes marginalized people can feel empowered by defiance of the hierarchies that force them down, by crowning their own hero, by saying, “OK, we declare that one of us is the king of the world now.” But we choose to move beyond that defiant impulse, to recognition of an image more authentic to Jesus’ words and actions, to a model of leadership with which we can more directly start to mend the world. Pope Francis has advised ministers to take on the smell of the sheep, to go out of themselves to experience the best of their people, which can stir the depths of their hearts. This is more consistent with Jesus’ words in Matthew’s gospel today, with feeding the hungry, giving water to the thirsty, welcoming the stranger, clothing the naked, helping the sick, and visiting the prisoner. Leading with charity, with compassion, with an eye toward uprooting and replacing unjust systems, this is the kind of leadership style we need to stretch toward if we want to be Christlike, as we are called to be.

           Our first reading referred to God as a shepherd as well, one who searched tirelessly for any lost sheep, from among the scattered, rescuing them when they had gone astray “when the clouds were low and the darkness thick.” We can all think of sad, disorienting times in our lives like that, I am sure, when we may have found ourselves far from God’s loving guidance. But if we choose, we are always welcomed back, bound up if we are injured, strengthened if we are weak. And we are called to be the same kind of shepherds. I think we are especially called to recognize one another as part of the flock, even if scattered far and wide. We are called to look carefully at everyone, even if we don’t usually hang out in the same pastures or follow the same trails. Still we are all God’s lambs, and we are responsible for their love and care and help, whether in Carmel or the east side of Indy or Ukraine or Gaza.

           In our second reading, Paul describes a Gentile Christian community sending financial help to a Jewish Christian community, because they had fallen on hard times. We are all blessed by God, Paul told a third community, and are called to bless one another any way we can. We owe this to one another and, if we understand the generous love of God, will do this with pleasure, with gusto, having realized the deep beauty of God’s generosity in our own lives.

           So this Thanksgiving weekend, on this Feast of Christ the Servant, contemplating the shepherd-like leadership of Jesus, and anticipating the season of the Advent of the Christ, let us love one another in a new, less guarded, more reflexive, freer, more expansive way. Let us expand our hearts to work to recognize everyone we meet as another member of the flock, and those we have never met as well.

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<![CDATA[If we “get” the message of service vs. power, how can we help matters during conflicts?]]>Mon, 23 Oct 2023 00:25:54 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/if-we-get-the-message-of-service-vs-power-how-can-we-help-matters-during-conflictsIf we “get” the message of service vs. power, how can we help matters during conflicts?

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 22, 2023
Helen Weber-McReynolds, RWCP
Isaiah 45:1, 4-8; 1 Thess 1: 1-5; Matthew 20: 17-28
 
           Have you ever had a conversation with someone and concluded later that they did not really understand or believe what you said? Sometimes it’s probably because they did not want what you said to be true. For example, when you tell a child that a planned trip to the zoo will not be possible because of bad weather on the scheduled day, but they still keep asking you when it will be time to leave for the zoo. They just don’t get it. They want to go to the zoo, so they choose to ignore you or disbelieve you or think wishfully that the trip will not be cancelled.
 
           It seems that is what happened with the apostles and Jesus in today’s gospel. The reading begins with Jesus graphically spelling out to his followers that he believed he would probably be cruelly executed by religious officials and government lawyers when they got to Jerusalem. This was the third such Passion Proclamation by Jesus in Matthew’s gospel. But the apostles were too preoccupied with power and privilege to take him seriously. They just don’t get it. Two of them, through their mother, asked if they could sit in the places of honor on Jesus’ right and left when his kingdom began. Jesus had by this time repeated over and over that his reign would not be like that of earthly kings. Finally he spelled it out for them once again. His reign was one of service, of leading by offering one’s life for others, even if it meant giving “life for life.” He had been teaching all along that happiness and meaning in life comes from loving and helping other people, which is passing on the love God has for us. But they just don’t get it.
 
           The terrorist attack on Israel and the consequences in Gaza and the surrounding areas remind us that we as a human family still just don’t get it. We have had war after agonizing war, and yet some still seem to want more. History has proven that violence causes only death and grief, yet the world keeps turning back to it. Jesus’ call to service and love still has not become a reality for everyone. The bombs are still flying. Antisemitic and anti-Islamic slurs and threats still cause our siblings in the human family to live in fear. Governments continue to spend their money on weapons, instead of food and services for their people.
 
           Why don’t we get it? Power and force are quick and tempting, while service and love are hard work. Diplomatic negotiations can take forever, but have proven to be only way to achieve authentic peace. Often they have to be repeated, as new conflicts come up.
 
           None of us are government diplomats, so we can’t directly control the situation in the Middle East, or Ukraine, or any of the other battleground areas of the world. But we can control our own lives. We can treat the people we encounter with respect. We can serve one another with humility. We can pray and work every day to control the violent tendencies in ourselves. And we can lobby our leaders to act to prevent more innocent lives being lost, and to provide aid to those in need.
 
           Those are the ways to show that we are finally starting to get it. We can control ourselves, and if we devote ourselves to serving others, as Jesus called us to do, then collectively, we can start to make the Reign of God a reality.]]>
<![CDATA[The Rivers Themselves Cry Out for Justice]]>Sun, 01 Oct 2023 04:00:00 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/the-rivers-themselves-cry-out-for-justiceThe Rivers Themselves Cry Out for Justice.

October 1, 2023, Season of Creation
Helen Weber-McReynolds, RWCP
Amos 5:21-24; Isaiah 43:19;  Ps. 85; Rev 22:1-7; John 7: 37-39
 
           Rivers form from tiny tributaries. Groundwater bubbles up, or snowmelt flows down a hill, and forms a small stream. Several small streams may happen to come together to form a larger stream. And when enough of these larger streams join together, a river forms.

           Justice movements often form in a similar way. A few people band together to protest discrimination or abuse, and others in sympathy or similar circumstances join in, and eventually a coalition forms. Sometimes strength in numbers helps them stage a strike, a boycott, or a legislative campaign, which can accomplish meaningful change.

           Nothing can live without water. And people cannot live without justice. People need basic rights to survive- ways to sustain themselves, and fair treatment so they can participate in their communities without discrimination. This has been true since the earliest of societies formed.

           Making sure everyone is allowed to earn or grow what they need to survive is not only the best way to avoid conflict in a society, but our readings today tell us that justice is what God demands for everyone. God has created the beautiful waters of our world, for our survival and our enjoyment, from unbounded, limitless love for us. And in return, God expects us to share that love, to make sure the members of our human family can meet their basic needs and have a chance to thrive. Just as everyone deserves access to clean water, so do they deserve fairness and equality. The message in each reading flows on the rivers.

           For the prophets Amos and Isaiah, saying that God created rivers in the wilderness, and demanded that justice flow like a river were ways of telling their listeners that God expected them to work for justice in their communities. Water was precious in their desert climate, so it must have been easy for the people to whom Amos and Isaiah were preaching to recognize how high a priority justice for all creatures was for God.

           In the Revelations passage, justice and oneness with God was portrayed as the most pristine of rivers, one that helped water trees which produced food and medicine for everyone. This river carried light and hope, and the promise of oneness with God forever.

           In our gospel passage, John portrayed Jesus as a source of living water, which he said symbolized the Holy Spirit. Jesus was quoted as saying that those who believed in him would be sources of the Holy Spirit, flowing like a river of living water. In other words, those who followed Jesus’ way of justice and inclusion would live lives of light and hope.

           In our world today, it is the rivers themselves who cry for justice. The excessive burning of fossil fuels has resulted in changes to our climate, causing more extreme storms, droughts and floods than ever before in history. The dumping of trash and poisonous chemicals into our waterways has polluted them to the point that their waters in some areas sicken, rather than nourish. The downstream effects on plants, animals, and humans are compounded with every passing year. As usual, the poor are those most affected. Rising sea levels, floods, drought, and hurricanes kill and wipe out the homes of those most vulnerable first in all areas of the world.
 
           God demands justice flow like a river for the rivers, and lakes and oceans, and air, and wildlife, and human beings, and all of Creation. We hold the key to our own survival. But it will take difficult negotiation and cooperation within communities and between nations, across neighborhoods and around the world. We have made progress toward the goal, but much work remains to be done. It will take all of us to accomplish. What more can we each do today?
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<![CDATA[How Do Glimpses of God’s Loving Works Inspire Us?]]>Sun, 24 Sep 2023 04:00:00 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/how-do-glimpses-of-gods-loving-works-inspire-usHow Do Glimpses of God’s Loving Works Inspire Us?

September 24, 2023, 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Helen Weber-McReynolds, RWCP
Job 38: 1-9, 12-14, 16-18; Phil 3: 20-4:1; Matthew 21: 23-27
 
           In a different part of the Gospel of Matthew than we read from today, in Ch 7, verse 16, it says, “You will know them by their works.” And I think we can conclude, from our readings today, taken together, that the answer to how we begin to understand God is that we know God by God’s works. Never fully, of course, until, by mercy, we see God face to face. But through prayer and silent openness, day by day and year by year, we can get glimpses of God’s wisdom and God’s plan for our lives.
 
           In the reading from Job, the author portrays God as telling Job that God will now ask the questions and that Job is to attempt to supply answers. God then goes on to describe how all the stars of the universe, the Earth itself, the seas, the light, and the darkness all were created. Job and everyone who has read this story since, and indeed all of us can know from this account how magnificent, how profound, and how unlimited is the love of God for us to have created this world for us in all its complexity and beauty. We can know God’s unending wisdom and God’s love for everyone, by studying the stars, the flowers, the mountains, and the animals. In fact, just a few minutes of peaceful encounter with an animal, or better yet, a child, is usually enough to give us a beautiful taste of what God’s love is like.
 
           In our second reading, from Philippians, Paul seems to be inspired by the friendship he has experienced with the community members there and the communion in Christ he has shared with them. He calls them “my joy and my crown.” He had come to understand God better through his encounter with the Philippians, as he testified in other chapters that he had with other communities. He learned about God by the Philippians’ love for him and for one another, by their faith, by their work to help the poor and sick in their community, and by their initiative in spreading the Word to others.
 
            And in the Gospel, Jesus turns the tables on the Temple officials by answering their question with a question, just as God did with Job in the first reading. When asked by what authority he preached and worked miracles, he asked by what authority the officials believed John the Baptist had taught. Note that the officials did not question Jesus’ teaching and miracles, but by whose authority he performed them. And since the officials evaded his question, he did the same with theirs. He lets the officials learn about him and his authority by his works. Since he heals the suffering, since he educates all, since he eats with and visits the houses of the marginalized, it seems obvious that he is authorized by a powerful and indiscriminate love. He is energized by mercy beyond the usual human capacity. His healing is powered by extraordinary care.
 
           We can know God by the works of God as well. Which leads us to the questions, of course of how we use these glimpses of divine wisdom to end the horrific wars taking place on our planet. How do we end gun violence? How do we learn to fairly distribute the world’s wealth? These answers will not come in a flash of magic. But day by day and year by year, in prayer and meditation, we can begin to learn the solutions to the earth’s problem by the benevolence of our Creator. I have faith that they will gradually be open to us, if we are open to see them. May we be inspired, as Paul was, and many other members of God’s people, to begin to chip away at these problems, one relationship and one community and one question at a time. And may we always be thankful for God’s limitless love. 
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<![CDATA[Forgiveness, Mercy, and Creative, Restorative Justice]]>Sun, 17 Sep 2023 04:00:00 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/forgiveness-mercy-and-creative-restorative-justiceForgiveness, Mercy, and Creative, Restorative Justice

September 17, 2023, 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Helen Weber-McReynolds, RWCP
Wisdom 27:30-28:7; Ps. 103; Romans 14:7-12; Matthew 18:15-17,21-35

        I’d like to start by quoting a recent Facebook post from our wise friend, Tom Nash. Tom said: “We don’t get what we deserve from God. We get so much more.” It was the caption for a photo of Tom holding one of his grandchildren, while sitting beside his daughter. A picture of how we get so much more than we deserve.
        I think Tom’s statement really encapsulates the message of these readings: that we are called by God to be merciful and forgiving, just as God is merciful and forgiving to us. Have you ever been humbled by pardon when you’ve made a mistake? Wary of punishment, but then taken aback by receiving blessing instead? That’s how the first servant in the Gospel must have felt. But then unfortunately, he couldn’t find it in himself to pass the mercy on to the next servant. He tried to clutch the forgiveness to himself, and get revenge on the servant who owed him. But mercy cannot be hoarded. It is meaningless unless it is transmitted from one forgiven to the next who needs forgiveness. Mercy is destroyed when withheld.
        We know that law and order is the basis of democracy, and that breaking the law must have consequences. But we also know that mercy is essential to constructive judgement. I’m no lawyer, but I’ve been able to observe, as I’m sure you have, that vengeful, abusive judgement is destructive to democracy. While creative, restorative judgment builds people and communities up.
        Did you happen to see the front page of this week’s Criterion? There were seven women from the Indiana Women’s Prison pictured in caps and gowns, having earned degrees thru a cooperative program between the Dept of Corrections, Marian Univ., and Notre Dame. The story said that there are 45 more women still pursuing degrees thru this program. Hopefully there will be more graduates next year. To me, this is an example of constructive rehabilitation in the correctional system. This is restorative justice.
        This is what we are called to- to stretch ourselves in way that restores people to dignity, including ourselves. When a mistake is made, not to revert to punishment, but to creatively figure out restoration to wholeness. As Paul said in the second reading, not to look down on one another, but to stand up as one with Christ. Not to keep a record of wrongs, as the Sirach reading said, but to remember that our covenant is with the God who does not give us what we deserve, but instead, gives us so much more. Even when Jesus, in the Gospel, said to treat sinners who would not repent as one would treat a pagan or a tax collector, he is not telling us to ostracize those people. All we have to do is remember how Jesus treated pagans and tax collectors. He sat down and talked to them, broke bread with them, included them as followers. The answer is always mercy. Expanding ourselves to love as God loves, to forgive as God forgives us.
        So let us reflect on what seventy times seven means in our lives. Where can we be less judgmental, more charitable; less transactional, more restorative? What do you think?

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<![CDATA[Multiplication of Love]]>Sun, 06 Aug 2023 17:01:49 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/multiplication-of-loveMultiplication of Love

August 6, 2023, 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Helen Weber-McReynolds, RWCP
Isaiah 55:1-3, Sirach 24:12-17,19-21; 2 Corinthians 9:10-15; Matthew 14:13-21
 
           I can never read this Gospel about the multiplication of the loaves and fishes without thinking of a story our friend Joe Zelenka used to tell. I know I have told it before, so I ask your indulgence here. Joe had set up the parish twinning relationship between St. Thomas Aquinas and St. John Vianney parish in Belle Riviere, Haiti. It was on one of his many trips to Haiti that he was in a neighborhood suffering great poverty. A group of young children gathered around him asking for food. All he had was a packet of peanut butter crackers given to him by the airline on his flight earlier that day. He hesitated to give it to the kids, fearing they would fight over it. But no. What happened was that the oldest child proceeded to break the crackers up and hand them out so that every kid got a little bite. Everyone was fed. They all shared equally.
           We don’t know exactly what happened when Jesus distributed two loaves and five fish and managed to feed more than 5000 people. We do know from the reading that he blessed, broke, and gave the food to his disciples in the traditional manner of a Jewish head of household at a Sabbath meal. We can see in this scene a preview of his blessing, breaking, and giving of his very self at the Last Supper. The loaf and cup he blessed there has fed millions of people over more than 2000 years. Besides bread and wine, what he gave that evening was a way for us to always have his presence with us, whenever we gather to celebrate God’s love, and God’s sustaining Word.
           Our first reading from the prophet Isaiah continued the Wisdom theme introduced in last Sunday’s readings. It presented God’s feminine Spirit of Wisdom as rich, sustaining food, like milk and wine, but given to all for free, a rich banquet available for the taking, available to everyone. It said that listening to the wise Word of God will be like fortifying bread for us, helping us to know how to live forever, in God’s “steadfast, sure, and enduring love.” And we know that God’s Wisdom is visible everywhere if we look with eyes of faith. We see it in nature, in the stars and animals and plants, in the Bible and other sacred literature, and in one another, when we act with love.     
           Our second reading connected these ideas. It told how Paul commended the young Christian community at Corinth for sending financial assistance to the community in Jerusalem, who were experiencing hard times. This is an example of how we carry out God’s wisdom, how we thank God for the love God lavishes on us. We pass it on to those who need help. The Corinthian Christians showed their gratitude for God’s blessings by passing them on to their Jerusalem friends in Christ, feeding them as they had been fed. They had heard God’s message and put it into action, thanking God by showing love to those in need.
           This is the Wisdom God offers us, the central teaching of Jesus, and, in reality, the main idea of all human spiritual teaching: we love and thank God, the source of all our being, by loving those around us. We love all the people, all the plants, all the ​animals, all the air, water, rocks, fungi, and grains of sand. We return love onto love. 
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<![CDATA[Feast of St. Mary of Magdala:  Jesus’ commission to her is her commission to us.]]>Sun, 23 Jul 2023 04:00:00 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/feast-of-st-mary-of-magdala-jesus-commission-to-her-is-her-commission-to-usFeast of St. Mary of Magdala
Jesus’ commission to her is her commission to us.


July 23, 2023
Helen Weber-McReynolds, RWCP
Judith 8: 2-17; Ps. 41-42; Proverbs 1:20-23, 33; John 20:11-18

           Mary of Magdala is mentioned in the New Testament more times than any other woman, except Mary, the mother of Jesus. So we have significant information about her. Yet she remains mysterious to us as well. We can gather that she understood what it was like to be in pain, and to be healed. Luke 8:1-3 tell us that she had been relieved of seven afflictions of some kind. We don’t know what those afflictions were. But we can see that Jesus’ healing obviously had a profound effect on Mary Magdalene’s life.
           The word Magdalene means watchtower or fortress. We don’t know if this referred to Mary’s hometown of Magdala, on the western shore of Lake Gennesaret, or if this was a reference to her stature within the early Christian community, or both. We do observe that she was not referred to ‘the wife of _____,’ or ‘the daughter of ______,’ as were most women in the early Christian era. She was evidently recognized as being more independent than most women.
           We know that Mary Magdalene was one of the women who travelled with Jesus and contributed financially and by other work to Jesus’ mission of teaching and healing. She was never a prostitute. This image was mistakenly projected onto her by Pope Gregory I in a sermon in the sixth century, conflating Mary Magdalene to be the woman with the alabaster jar, described in all four gospels. We do know that Mary Magdalene was there, according to the gospels, along with other women, when Jesus was crucified and after his burial. One theologian argues that Mary Magdalene’s request to the gardener that she be able to “take Jesus’ body” after his death and presumed removal from the tomb suggests that she and Jesus were married. Other early Christian texts, outside the Bible, note that Jesus loved her more than any of the other disciples and taught her things he did not teach the others. The Gospel of Phillip notes that Jesus kissed Mary Magdalene on the mouth. Whatever their relationship, these later texts describe Mary Magdalene’s status as an apostle, in the years after Jesus’ death, as rivalling even that of Peter. She was Jesus’ witness, disciple, financial supporter, companion, and friend.
           This is all review for most of you, I know. The value of Mary Magdalene’s role in the history of the Christian movement, for me, is that she is identified singularly as the one whom Jesus commissioned to spread the good news of his resurrection. Evidently, she recognized that Jesus’ execution could not be the end of God’s plan for his work of establishing the Reign of God on earth. She understood that all those parables Jesus told, about planting seed that would grow and bear fruit, about yeast that would cause bread to rise, about lantern fuel that would be kept burning all night, and all the rest, were Jesus’ instructions to her and the other apostles to continue the teaching, continue the healing, continue the care and the support, especially to those on the margins of the community. She understood that her job was to deliver the message, that Jesus’ love lived on, that the divine compassion he had transmitted so miraculously was alive and was meant to be passed on, by her and all the other disciples, by their words and by their lives. The specific words she spoke have been largely lost to us, thru suppression or by the accidents of history, but we can gather that her witness was strong.
           To me, Mary Magdalene’s message is that Jesus’ work must go on, that he was the Christ who lives forever as the personification of God’s unending love for us and for all. Jesus’ commission to her is her commission to us. And that is enough for us to go on. That we don’t have many other specific words of hers to read does not diminish her impact as a role model. Her life is her gospel. She was there with Jesus, she did not leave when he was persecuted, and she kept his message alive after he was gone. That witness tells us exactly what we need to do. I believe her gospel continues to be written with our lives. Our collaboration in these homilies, the compassionate works we each do every day, the stands we take for justice, the care we give to the sick and the poor—these are the good news of Mary Magdalene. These are the message inspired by the Holy Spirit, who is one and lives forever, with God, and with Mary Magdalene’s good, loving friend, Jesus the Christ.]]>
<![CDATA[Desperation, Faith and Love]]>Sun, 02 Jul 2023 04:00:00 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/desperation-faith-and-loveDesperation, Faith and Love
13th Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 2, 2023
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Helen Weber-McReynolds, RWCP
2 Kings 4: 8-37; Ps. 89; Romans 8: 35-39; Matt 9: 18-26
  
           Sometimes it’s hard to tell where desperation ends and faith starts. I’ve seen this with many patients over the years. They sense all is not well with their health, but they ignore the problem and hope it will go away. Until they can’t ignore it any more. The pain, or the involuntary weight loss, or the intrusive, self-destructive thoughts are so alarming they can no longer ignore them. And they come in asking for help. They realize the situation is out of their control. They are desperate for a solution. At that moment they are often willing to accept changes or solutions they wouldn’t have found acceptable before. They are willing to take the medicine or undergo the surgery in order to heal. It’s as if they have found faith in themselves and the medical system to heal them, if they are willing to change.
           Let’s consider the desperation of the woman healed by Jesus in today’s gospel. She had uncontrollable bleeding for at least a decade. She must have been so anemic, so tired, so weak. It must have been hard for her to do even the simplest tasks without getting out of breath. She decided to go to one more healer, Jesus. She saw God’s love reflected in Jesus, and she believed he could effect God’s healing. She was so desperate and believed so much in Jesus, she thought if she even touched his garment she would be well. Even the tassel at the edge of his garment. Even one thread of the tassel. And Jesus said her faith healed her.
           It seems to me that sometimes when our ego is defeated and all our defenses break down, it is easier for faith to break in. When we are forced to relinquish control, we finally are willing to ask for any help available. In today’s gospel the Temple official’s influence and political power could not keep his daughter alive. He knelt down before Jesus asking for help in his desperation. The Shunamite woman dropped everything to travel up a mountain to find Elisha to ask him to restore her son’s life.
In desperate situations like this we understand that truly, nothing can separate us from the love of God. Paul told us in our second reading—not hardsip or distress, persecution or famine, nakedness, peril, or famine, not death nor life, angels nor rulers, things present not things to come, powers nor height, nor depth nor anything else in all creation—can keep God from loving us, nor us from loving God, if we choose to. Not infertility, as the Shunamite woman and her husband suffered. Not the death of a child. Not illness for 10 years, and separation from family and community, because of ritual purity laws.
For our God understands loss. God made every being on earth, and must feel pain whenever any part of creation is hurt or lost. God lost his own son to execution. God is close to those who mourn. Those who know the grief of a child’s death can identify with God’s grief at Jesus’ death. Imagine the grief God must feel when poisonous chemicals are released into the waters, air, and soil of the Creation gifted to us out of love.
           I think the healings Jesus performs in the gospels are emblematic of the healing God wills for each of us. God loves us and wishes no one to suffer. God doesn’t cause suffering. God creates, brings to birth, challenges us to grow, waters, feeds, blesses, loves. God worked through Jesus and Elisha and others, and today works through us. God calls us to heal one another and sometimes, ourselves. To ask one another for help. To look out for one another and offer help when we recognize suffering. To work to end the unjust and destructive systems that cause suffering for people and for the earth. God continues the healing of the world now through us, when we are willing to cooperate.
           Sick people are desperate for help. We must be desperate to heal. We must have urgency to bring our faith in God’s love to remedy the pain we see around us. We may not be able to raise people from the dead. But we can fight for gun control so not so many get killed. We may not be able to promise someone a healthy baby one year from now, but we can work for better prenatal care for everyone. We may not be able to make the blind see, but we can sometimes love people to the point where they are willing to open their own eyes.
Let us not separate ourselves from the love of God. Let us open ourselves, lower our defenses, allow ourselves to feel some of the pain in the world, and do all we can to bring God’s love to those who need it.]]>
<![CDATA[Transmitting God’s Love to One Another]]>Sun, 18 Jun 2023 04:00:00 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/transmitting-gods-love-to-one-anotherTransmitting God’s Love to One Another
11th Sunday Ordinary Time and Father’s Day, June 18, 2023
 
Helen Weber-McReynolds, RWCP
Gen 21: 7-21; Ps. 100; 2 Cor 1: 3-4; Mt 9: 35-38
 
          Imagine being an enslaved young woman with a little son, and being cast out into the desert alone with only enough food and water for a day, and for a totally unjust reason.
         Imagine being an early Christian evangelist, unable to return to visit dear friends and fellow Christians, due to the threat of religious persecution.
           Imagine being the apostles Jesus sent out to cure and heal the sick and raise the dead, and expected to count on the hospitality of strangers for your living, as happened in the chapter following the passage from Matthew we read today.
             Hagar, Ishmael, Paul, and the apostles no doubt felt lost, harassed, troubled, and abandoned, as did the people the apostles were sent to help.
              Now imagine being a transgender teenager in Indiana, unsure if you will be able the receive the medical treatment you need to live the life you know is right for you.
Imagine being an LGBTQIA person in one of the many states in the US that have passed laws restricting your rights strictly on the basis of your sexuality.
            Imagine experiencing a miscarriage and hemorrhage and being told by your doctor that it was against the laws of your state to give you the medicine needed to help you.
Imagine being a Southern Baptist woman pastor, and being told you could no longer minister to your congregation.
Imagine being a woman called to priesthood in the Catholic church.
             Lost, harassed, troubled.
            Our readings today tell us how God saved and protected Hagar and Ishmael, Paul, the apostles sent out by Jesus, and the people they cured and raised up. God saved them because of God’s love. But these people also went on to accomplish very important work in helping to establish justice and pass on God’s love on earth. Hagar helped Ishmael produce a great nation, by introducing him to his Egyptian wife. Paul spread the word of God’s extravagant love for all throughout the eastern Mediterranean region, helping many people understand their inherent worth in God’s eyes. And the apostles cured the sick, raised the dead, and told of the Good News of Jesus’ love.
As Sr. Mary McGlone pointed out in the National Catholic Reporter this week, when we bring God’s love to others, we experience it most intensely ourselves. We begin to understand what it is like to love as God loves. We only really understand God’s love when we give it to others. And that is really the sum of what God asks of us—to love God and to love one another. To love God BY loving one another.
            Fatherhood is certainly a vocation of loving God by loving others. Fathers are called every day to model God’s love to their children. Both the fathers and their children learn the depth of God’s love for us by experiencing the way fathers care, provide, teach, and protect.
            To be an apostle is to be one sent out by another. We are all apostles, then. Jesus sends us all as laborers into the field. There are so many who are terrified, harassed, and abandoned. Sometimes we feel that way ourselves. The only solution is to parent, shepherd, heal, and teach one another. God loves us infinitely. Let us transmit that love to one another, day by day, any way we can.
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<![CDATA["Profound Mutuality"]]>Sun, 04 Jun 2023 04:00:00 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/profound-mutuality“Profound Mutuality”
Trinity Sunday, June 4, 2023
 
Helen Weber-McReynolds, RWCP
Ex 34: 4-6, 8-9; Ps. 104; 2 Cor 13: 11-13; John: 3: 16-17; Mt 27: 50-56
 
           The other day I saw a little humorous post on the internet that observed that God was the original user of They/Them pronouns. Which is kind of a cool way to say that this person’s opinion was that God understands people for whom gender is not binary, that there are more than just he and she to human existence. But it’s also a fresh take on the concept of the Trinity. It’s a new way of thinking about our God, who shares everything, even existence. God’s essence is to be in relationship—relationship to the other members of Godself, and to us, and all creatures. Communion with Godself and with us is the way of being for God.
           The concept of God is beyond the capacity of any human to completely understand. But there are many comparisons in the Bible, among other literature, to help us understand what God is like. In the Psalms, for example, God is described as a protector who keeps her children safe as they travel; also as a shepherd who guides his sheep; even as water that relieves thirst, or forms a powerful, cooling waterfall. To Elijah, waiting in the cave for the voice of God, it was not in the fire, or the storm, or the earthquake, but it was in a tiny, whispering wind. In Jesus’ parables, God is compared to a forgiving parent, a woman adding yeast to bread dough, an investor seeking good returns, and a farmer planting seeds. Always images of relating, of care, of love for us, of helping, of support.
           The idea of the Trinity can be very confusing—how can 3 persons be in one person?—but it can also be very revealing. Three persons existing as one Person. God the Creator, the Human Incarnation of God, and the Spirit of God that resides in each of us and all the world. Over the centuries, there have been some very destructive interpretations of the Trinity, such as the monarchal image, in which God is a king, from which the other members of the Trinity proceed. Or the patriarchal interpretation, in which God is a father, and the other members are all male too. But we can move beyond these negative interpretations to the essence of the Trinity idea—that God is loving and seeks at all times to relate to us and all beings in love. In the Trinity, God exists as three equal persons related in profound mutuality. This is a very feminist concept, when you think about it. All three components of Godself are equal—none existed before the others, none proceeds one from another.
          As Elizabeth Johnson expresses it, in her book Quest for the Living God, “The living God is an overflowing communion of self-giving love.” Which tells us that if we wish to answer Jesus’ call to love as God loves, we also must relate to others as equals, in self-giving love, which builds communion with other people and with God as well. It also gives us guidance in our task of helping to recreate and reform the church. Of the church, Johnson says, “Only a community of equal persons related in profound mutuality, pouring out praise of God and care for the world in need, only such a church corresponds to the triune God it purports to serve.”
          During this Pride month, maybe we can make a point of being sensitive to the personal pronouns people prefer to use, and to learning more about the beautiful spectrum which is human gender. Maybe we can also take time to reflect on God’s unselfishness, even to the point of very existence, and the example that provides for us.
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<![CDATA[Gifts of the Spirit]]>Sun, 28 May 2023 19:22:10 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/gifts-of-the-spiritGifts of the Spirit
Pentecost, May 28, 2023
 
Helen Weber-McReynolds, RWCP
Acts 2: 1-21; Ps. 104, Lord Send Out Your Spirit; 1 Cor 12: 4-13; John 20: 19-22
 
           I recently learned a Gospel song, and the lyrics go like this: This joy that I have, the world didn’t give it to me. The other verses change to this strength that I have, this pride, this love, this peace. Then they all end in: The world didn’t give it, the world can’t take it away. This song helped me understand the gift Jesus’ disciples received the day of Pentecost, and the gifts we receive from the Holy Spirit as well. These gifts, of joy, strength, love, pride, and peace, for example, are not gifts we can earn by following the right rules, or going to the right church. There is nothing we can do to deserve these gifts, other than exist as beloved creatures of God. God gives these gifts from pure unmerited love. We have them because of God’s generosity; it is not transactional.
 
           And it is the Holy Spirit who is with us in the world and communicates these gifts to us. Jesus promised Wisdom Sophia as an advocate before his death, and so now we know she is the Spirit of God alive and inspiring God’s love in us, and in every other creature. As we heard in our second reading today, everyone is gifted a little differently, and it takes all those diverse gifts to make up the Body of Christ. Alive with our many and varied blessings, we bring Christ’s love to the world. We are charged with helping to care for the sick, help the blind see, help the lame walk, and help the oppressed find justice.
 
The Spirit joins Jesus the Christ and the Creator in the flow of love that is God. We don’t know exactly what happened when the Spirit came to the disciples on the first Pentecost 2000 years ago. We heard two different descriptions in our first reading and Gospel today. But we know the Spirit must have inspired dramatic change. Our first reading today expressed this change as moving the disciples from fear, locked away together in the upper room, afraid they might be the next victims of execution, to moving out into Jerusalem to spread Jesus’ teachings, using whatever language it took to help their listeners understand. The writer of Acts used the symbolism of a driving wind and burning flames to emphasize the drama of the in-Spir-ation the disciples felt. Evidently reflecting together on all Jesus’ words to them, on Jesus’ death, and now the signs they had seen that he was still alive with them, moved them so strongly that they lost their fear and felt that all they wanted to do was to take the love of Christ, and the Spirit of God, out to the city to share it with everyone there.
 
As Jesus’ disciples in 2023 in Indianapolis, Rochester, Huntington, Chapel Hill, and all our homes, how are we called to share the love of Jesus? How can the Spirit of God in all things and all people in-Spire us to help bring health, strength, peace, pride, and justice? Not only to all people, but to our endangered planet? The Spirit flows to us through all other beings. She is present in God’s trees, rocks, animals, flowers, soil, water, and air. We are all members of our Creator’s family, brought together by wisdom Sophia. What am I called to do to keep our family thriving and loving? What are you called to do?
 
I learned another song recently, as well. Its lyrics are I breath for the trees, and they breathe for me, I breathe for the trees, and they breathe for me. The Spirit’s breath, that driving wind, is in us all. What are we called to do to keep it flowing?]]>
<![CDATA[Prophetic Mothers of the Church]]>Mon, 15 May 2023 03:27:56 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/prophetic-mothers-of-the-churchProphetic Mothers of the Church
5th Sunday of Easter and Mother’s Day, 5/14/23
 `
Helen Weber-McReynolds, RWCP
Acts 16: 16-19, 23, 40; 21: 7-9; Ps. 78:1-7 (feminist interpretation by Marchiene Vroon Rienstra); John 14: 18-21, 25-26
 
           A few years ago, a friend invited me to an exciting event. She said some progressive Catholics were hosting a prayer service at Cathedral High School. It was to celebrate the feast day of St. Mary of Magdala. When I got to the Cathedral chapel the day of the event, I found that the leader of the prayer service was a petite, light-haired lady named Maria McClain. She said the group there intended to form a new prayer community in support of women’s ordination. She used inclusive language, addressed God as female, and preached about how Mary Magdalene was the Apostle to the Apostles. I wanted to know more about this new group! I was excited to talk to people who thought ordination for women could be a reality. At that time I had just about given up on the hierarchical church, and Maria and her group felt like prophesy to me that day. What they were saying was what I understood to be right and just, and consistent with the love of the God who made us all in her own image. It seemed Maria and her group were speaking God’s truth, and protesting the injustice of exclusion of women from church leadership.
          That’s what prophecy is, after all. It is listening to and reflecting on the word of God, and then proclaiming it to other people. Scripturally, it was especially called for when one perceived injustice, and urgently felt the need to help people turn toward justice and mercy instead. Prophets such as Isaiah, Jonah, and Zechariah urgently demanded returning to adherence to God’s word, and conversion away from abuses of the law that had arisen. Prophecy is reminding people of the justice and unconditional love of God, and working to actualize it in your community.
           Part of the mission of the Roman Catholic Womanpriest movement is prophetic disobedience—choosing to defy the proclamations of the church forbidding women’s ordination, and instead following the example of Jesus. Scripture tells us Jesus always fought for the rights of those dispossessed, disenfranchised, and discriminated against. The early church followed his example, welcoming women and other marginalized people as prophets, community leaders, preachers, and benefactors. The women’s ordination movement seeks to restore the openness and inclusivity of the early church. It seeks to prophesy that God calls people of all genders and sexualities to ministry. It seeks to proclaim to the world that exclusion of women from ministry is unjust and that limiting ordination to men is depriving the church of gifted leaders.
           In our first reading today, five women prophets were mentioned. Our second reading invites us all to to tell of the wonders of God’s strong and marvelous love, and to pass it on to our children. And then in the Gospel, Jesus spoke as the voice of God to the world, saying I am in God, you are in me, and I am in you. He was the Truth personified.
           Maria went to become the prophetic mother of this church, St. Mary of Magdala. She helped firmly established us as a community, passing on the responsibility of proclaiming our truth. St. Mary of Magdala community can prophesy by continuing to serve as an example of a new way of being church, of the potential for inclusive, creative catholic communities. We can spread the word that inclusion and Catholicism are not mutually exclusive. We can invite people to join us, especially those many people concerned about the rigidity of the hierarchical Catholic church. Most of all, we can live lives of acceptance, love, and inclusion, in imitation of Jesus, our brother, our teacher, and our example. ]]>
<![CDATA[Encountering the Living God]]>Sun, 23 Apr 2023 04:00:00 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/encountering-the-living-godEncountering the Living God
3rd Sunday of Easter, 4/23/23
 
Helen Weber-McReynolds, RWCP
Acts 7: 54-8:3; Ute Prayer; 1 Peter 1: 17-21, 22-23, 25; Luke 24: 13-35
  
           One summer when our kids were still grade-school aged, we went camping with several other families from church at one of the state parks. After dark one evening, one of our friends invited the whole group to come lie on the ground in an open field on some blankets. It was August, during the time when meteor showers are common. We all looked up, and were astounded at the huge number of stars we could see in the sky. Away from the city lights, on a nice clear summer night, it seemed like there were millions of stars, in all kinds of formations. We could see shooting stars, the Milky Way, and lots of constellations—it was much better stargazing than most of us had ever experienced. The kids were especially impressed. Reflecting on it afterward, we had all found the sky full of stars awe-inspiring. Many of us expressed having felt like we were encountering God in a new way. It seemed like God’s limitless creativity and power and love for us were shining down on us from the sky through the stars.
           You may have had similar experiences, encountering God in a new way through the beauty or power of nature. These kinds of encounters can be both humbling and gratifying. They demonstrate how small we are in relation to God’s greatness, but at the same time, how much God values and treasures us, to bestow on us the beauty of these natural wonders. Pope Francis, in his encyclical Laudato Si, On Care for Our Common Home, regarding care for our environment, said that Creation is, “… a magnificent book in which God speaks to us and grants us a glimpse of (God’s) infinite beauty and goodness.” If we combine this kind of powerful encounter with reflection on how interrelated everything and everyone is in the natural world, we begin to understand how each and every one of us can impact and must take responsibility to protect the Earth and all its creatures.
           Our readings also describe some powerful encounters with God, both humbling and gratifying. Our first reading recounted Stephen’s vision of the resurrected Christ, as his life was ebbing away at the hands of an angry mob of religious leaders who were unwilling to acknowledge their own hypocrisy. Only Stephen was able to open his mind to perceive the reality of Christ’s resurrection, and the promise of our own.
           In the gospel, the Emmaus travelers encountered the resurrected Christ just as powerfully, when they recognized him in the Eucharistic action Jesus had initiated, repeated right before their eyes. They began to understand that Jesus the Christ died, but lives, and calls all of us to resurrection with him.
           Like Stephen, and like Cleopas and his companion on the Emmaus road, we are invited to encounter God everywhere and always: in nature, in the Eucharist, and in one another. As the author of the reading from the first letter of Peter advised us, “Your life is a journey you must travel with a deep consciousness of God… The mystery of the fullness of life is in the death and resurrection of… the Christ…” Let us continue on this journey together, endeavoring to always be open to encounter the living God, the power of love present all around us.
 
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<![CDATA[Six interwoven ideas: Silence, prayer, faith, love, service, peace.]]>Thu, 06 Apr 2023 04:00:00 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/six-interwoven-ideas-silence-prayer-faith-love-service-peaceSix interwoven ideas: Silence, prayer, faith, love, service, peace.

Helen Weber-McReynolds
April 6, 2023
Holy Thursday

Ex 12: 1-8, 11-14; Ps 116; 1 Cor 11: 23-26; John 13: 1-17, 31-35
 
           I would like to briefly share a quotation from Mother Teresa, which I think encapsulates pretty well the interwoven ideas in our readings for this Holy Thursday. Mother Teresa said, “The fruit of silence is prayer. The fruit of prayer is faith. The fruit of faith is love. The fruit of love is service. The fruit of service is peace.” Silence, prayer, faith, love, service, and peace-- it could be that she gleaned this progression from meditation on Jesus’ life. If we think about the events recorded in the Gospels, we can certainly see how vital these six ideas were to Jesus. We can recall how important silence was to Jesus, and that silence was conducive to prayer for him. Jesus knew the wisdom of silencing himself, going away to a quiet place, so that he could hear God’s word for his life. We see in tonight’s second reading how Paul recounted an example of the importance of prayer to Jesus, to gathering with community in prayer, and in communing with God and one another through prayer, and indeed, through Eucharist, the source and summit of all our prayer. Jesus knew our first reading tonight, testifying to the faith of his Jewish ancestors, and how God liberated them through their faithful participation in God’s plan. The majority of Jesus’ preaching seems focused on love based on faith in God, and in fact, tonight’s gospel concludes with Jesus’ new commandment to us: to love one another, as he has loved us. To me, the strongest of all these elements, however, is demonstrated by Jesus’ example of service in tonight’s gospel. “I have given you an example,” he said. “If I, your teacher and leader, have washed your feet, you must wash one another’s feet.” The way to bring God’s love to life in our lives, Jesus was saying, to create lasting peace amongst ourselves, is to learn to unselfishly offer our service to one another. We must open ourselves to one another’s needs and learn to meet those needs. We must be sensitive to the injustices our human family members are suffering and figure out how to correct those injustices. We must become the least servants to one another, in order to create the shared peace for which God created the earth and everyone in it.

          So, as we prepare to enter into the next three days, and Jesus’ death and resurrection, let us keep working on following Jesus, as echoed by Teresa, by listening to God in silence, by gathering ourselves in prayer, and growing in faith, in order to love more deeply. Most of all, let us serve one another with humility, so that we may rise with Jesus in the peace God has envisioned for us all.]]>
<![CDATA[Radiance]]>Sun, 05 Mar 2023 05:00:00 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/radianceRadiance
Nancy Chism
March 5th, 2013
2nd Sunday of Lent

Ex 2 24:1a, 9a, 10-12, 15-18a; 34:28-29; Ps 83 (from Stanza 2, Merrill); Tim 1:2a, 7-10;
Mt 17: 1-9

Good Morning. I appreciate being invited to contribute in this way and hope that my words may touch you.

There are several themes that these readings present: the importance of law in the story of the Ten Commandments, the counsel to avoid being timid in the reading from St. Paul, the idea of persistence in the Psalms, and several others. But for me, the overpowering theme is the idea of radiance and that’s what I’d like to talk about. I hope that in your part of the homily, you’ll focus on any of the themes that meant the most to you.

The images of Moses’s face when he descended the mountain and of Jesus’s face and clothing during what we now call the transfiguration leap out at me. And image is the power for me. So, I’d like to show you some images of radiance.

[Here Nancy showed a whole set of slides, illustrating many aspects of radiance.]

One thing that these all have in common is light. Can you imagine being on the mountain with Moses or with Jesus? The light is blinding, too powerful for your eyes. You shield them, but as I do when viewing the sunset over the Gulf of Mexico, you can’t help peeking, just like the three apostles with Jesus and the elders with Moses. And the light bounces off your face, too, making you radiant. Think of the times when you were radiant—maybe at the birth of your child, perhaps when you won a race, when you were recognized for an accomplishment, when you were proud of the success of a loved one. We say that you were “beaming.” I visualize the shining face of Martin Luther King as he spoke the passionate lines at the end of his speech on the night before he died, “I have been to the mountaintop. . . . And I’ve seen the Promised Land.”

Both Jesus and Moses become radiant through being in the presence of the divine. They have gone to the mountaintop, a symbol of the meeting point between earth and heaven. For both, this is a moment of epiphany, a time when there is a great change in their own future lives. Jesus’s humanity has been proclaimed in his baptism, when he descends into the waters like others who approach John the Baptist, and his divinity is proclaimed here as he ascends the mountain. It is a pivotal point foreshadowing his death as a man and resurrection as divine. Moses reaches the height of his prophetic powers in receiving and transmitting the law.
 
And when we manifest the divine in us, we show our radiance. We say every week in the Creed that “We believe that we are radiant images of God who calls us to live fully, to love tenderly, and to serve generously.”  In the popular song, “On Eagles Wings,” we are told that we can be made to “shine like the sun.” But I don’t think we carry this thought with us routinely.

So, I would like to turn to the Eastern Church, where the transfiguration and the concept of light are of utmost importance, leading to an emphasis on light and mysticism and meditation to a higher degree than the Western Church. I’d like to take just a minute to honor that tradition and prompt you to feel your radiance with a little exercise that we often do at the Indianapolis Hermitage: “Take a deep breath, close your eyes, and relax your body. Breathe again and feel peace flowing through your head, your torso, and limbs. Now, visualize the divine as a blue-white light in the center of your heart. Feel it starting to energize your whole being, moving outward to the surface of your body. Feel the divine in you manifesting itself. Now you can bring that light to others. Bring it to others around you, to your city, your nation, the earth, the whole universe. Illuminate everything with peace and love. You are a powerful spiritual being and your light, the light of love, makes the difference. Now, slowly open your eyes and enjoy how radiant you feel.”

I invite you to comment on these ideas or any others that were prompted by the readings.
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<![CDATA[Decisions]]>Mon, 27 Feb 2023 02:51:39 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/decisionsDecisions
Helen Weber-McReynolds, RCWP
February 26, 2023
First Sunday of  Lent
 Gen 2: 4, 7-9, 15-18, 21, 25; 3: 1-7;  Ps. 51; 1 Thess 3: 4-9, 12; Mt 4: 1-11
 
            Most of us have been confronted with a choice, sometime in our lives. A big decision, an important change in our lives. One alternative represented the easy way out, the path of least resistance, maybe the selfish choice. The other was more challenging, more helpful to others, potentially a bigger contribution to the community at large, and, ultimately, more authentic to the person you believe God has asked you to become.
           The people in each of our readings today faced decisions like those. They were tempted to take the easy way out, but ultimately decided to do what they knew was right. They all provide us strong role models in following the way of the God of unconditional love.
           Our first reading, from Genesis, the second creation myth featured there, is a story that has been interpreted in troubling ways over the centuries. Let us remember two things about Biblical interpretation. First, there was no video camera in Eden. This is a story, featuring a talking snake, written by a person hundreds of years before Jesus was born, meant to react to events that were happening at the time of its writing. Some biblical historians believe the Adam and Eve story was a polemic against goddess worship cults that were popular at the time. Second, traditional interpretation does not equal Biblical truth. Certainly, we know the concept of Original Sin and the idea that Eve was responsible for it were not a part of Jesus’ theology, or that of the early church. It was not widespread until Augustine of Hippo popularized it in the 4th century. As our friend, Angela, has previously preached about, and studied for her Masters thesis on Eve, we can ask other questions and learn other valuable truths from this story.
          Snakes, for example, in many ancient cultures, and some contemporary ones, were seen, not as evil and lethal, but as wise, healthy, and immortal. Their intimate knowledge of the roots and growth of plants, and their periodic shedding of skin and appearance of new life lead to symbols such as the Staff of Aesculapius, the symbol of medicine. And there is Hebrew wordplay in this story. The word arom means both wise and naked, which can lead us to think of the snake’s wisdom, transmitted to the two earthlings, as being shed of ignorance, exposure to truth, or naked intelligence.
           If we open our minds to these new possible ideas about this story, maybe we can see this as a story about a choice of wisdom, about discernment and how it first evolved. I’ve asked Angela to share a little more about this in a few minutes. But first, let us briefly consider the other two readings.
           The passage from Thessalonians was a sigh of relief for Paul, who had had to retreat from Thessalonia after founding a church there, but then encountering intense opposition from the Jewish community. Timothy had reported back that the Thessalonian church had made the choice to remain faithful, but longed for Paul to return. Paul encourages them to continue to avoid the temptation to stray from the faith, and to strengthen one another by their mutual love and love of God.
           And then we see the choices Jesus made during his trial in the desert, to turn away from wealth, abuse of power, control, and domination, toward the uncertainty of following the unknown path of preaching the establishment of God’s Reign on earth. Again, there was no video camera in the desert capturing Jesus and the devil duking it out. Maybe Matthew, and the other evangelists, were recounting a story Jesus may have told, comparing his misgivings about his vocation to fighting with a tempter, we don’t know. It resembles a legend about the testing of the people of Israel in their forty years in the desert, and features the quotes from the Old Testament. The point is that Jesus shared our human temptations, as well as our human ability to choose love and life, if we wish, and that he calls us to follow his example of peace, sharing, and working for justice.
           And now, please, I ask Angela, and then all the rest of you, to share your thoughts.
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<![CDATA[A loving mindset and the spirit of the law]]>Sun, 05 Feb 2023 05:00:00 GMThttp://smmccindy.org/past-homiliesblog/marys-ponderingA loving mindset and the spirit of the law
Helen Weber-McReynolds, RCWP
February 5, 2023
Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Lev 19: 1-2, 11-18, 33-34; Ps 119; 1 Cor 2: 1-5; Mt 5: 21-30
 
           You may remember the famous baseball announcer, Red Barber, who called games over radio and television from 1934-1966, and was later featured weekly on National Public Radio on the Friday Morning Edition shows. He was born in Mississippi and was famous for bursting forth with homey Southern turns of phrase when there was an outstanding play or a tricky situation. He would say things like, “With 3 balls and no strikes on him, this batter is really sitting in the catbird seat.” Once he responded to an outstanding catch with, “Well, I’ll be a suck-egg mule.” In an interview, he once said that even he was amazed at some of the expressions that came out of his mouth, and found the prospect of saying something unplanned almost frightening at times. For that reason, he forbade himself from swearing, or using any kind of profanity, even silently, to himself.
He was a devout Episcopalian and explained that he was always careful to discipline himself to avoid foul language, even in his thoughts, because he did not want to have cursing pop out of his mouth unexpectedly. So he avoided even thinking about cursing.
           I think this is what Jesus is getting at in today’s Gospel. Of course we need to obey the letter of the law not to kill or steal, but we also need to follow the spirit of God’s law. We need to maintain a loving mindset to avoid responding with violence unexpectedly in anger. Imitating Jesus’ non-violent example requires the cultivation of understanding in our thoughts. It means training ourselves not to judge other people, but to put ourselves in the other person’s situation and think about their circumstances and motivations.
           In this Gospel, Jesus is expanding on the law of God as interpreted by his contemporaries, especially those in the employ of the local Roman government and in the Temple hierarchy. He was trying to re-emphasize that God’s law is to help and guide us in leading an ethical life. The word torah is the Hebrew word for teaching and direction for life and the one mostly used for the laws/principles which God has given us. So God’s law is to help teach us how to love one another better. The way the law is stated in today’s reading from Leviticus conveys this compassionate, instructive tone. Right at the beginning, we hear that God is giving us these laws so that we can be holy, as God is holy. The law is so that we can live in God’s circle of love and learn to expand it to include even the wayfarer and the  stranger, and even those with whom we have differences. Paul said the same thing, basically, in the second reading, when he said that wanted to teach his followers of God’s unlimited love, as exemplified by Jesus’ laying down his life, so that their faith may rest on the power of God, and not just on human wisdom. He wanted his followers to internalize the love of Jesus, and not worry about philosophical arguments or other parsing of law.
           Civil law is supposed to be similar, guidelines to help us all live peacefully together. But human selfishness has tended to corrupt the law over time, to pervert it into a “power over” structure of some groups controlling others. And instead of maintaining peace, the law tends to be enforced by violence. We saw another terrible example of that this week, with the brutal killing of Tyre Nichols in Memphis. It is difficult to know what motivated the men who beat Tyre. Were they carried away with the power they had been given to enforce the law and intent on maintaining that power for its own sake? Hopefully careful investigation will uncover the truth about what happened.
           For now, let us work at bringing God’s Realm of Love to reality here on earth, little by little, in our own relationships and situations. Father John Dear, who has written and worked so extensively on non-violence, gives us this advice:
      “We must carry on Jesus’ campaign of non-violence…. We do this through daily prayer and meditation, daily Gospel reading and regular communal worship. As servants and friends of Jesus, we live like him, speak like him, resist systemic injustice like him, and love humanity and Mother Earth like him. We stay centered in the God of peace, and live in the Spirit of God, and so walk the earth in universal love, compassion, and peace.”
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