Second Sunday of Lent
February 25, 2024
Mk 9:2-10
Prior to today’s Gospel reading, Jesus had told the disciples straight out that he would have to suffer, be rejected, be killed, and rise. And Peter, being Peter, took Jesus aside and rebuked him. Then Jesus trumped Peter’s rebuke, telling him to get in line, “You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.” Ouch.
Today’s reading begins six days later when Jesus grabbed Peter, James, and John and led them up a mountain by themselves. This little band was specifically chosen for this experience. Peter had just had a hit–professing Jesus as the Messiah–and immediately following, a miss with the rebuke. So, clearly, he and the others were still not fully grasping Jesus’ identity as the Son of God.
So Jesus made it very clear. He was changed in appearance (we don’t know exactly how), and even what he was wearing changed to blinding white. Then Elijah and Moses were there, talking with him. It was private, personal, and profound. And these three were witnesses!
Of course, Peter has to be the first to open his mouth. “Rabbi, it is good that we are here! Let us make three tents…” It probably seemed preferable to Peter for them to stay on the mountain rather than leave and have to face once again Jesus’ prediction of his upcoming suffering and death. To put a final point on it, a voice, THE VOICE, told them exactly who Jesus was and exactly what they were to do: listen to him.
We witness the transfiguration in Lent as a reminder of Jesus’ divine nature as the Son of God. But also, as we grow closer to Our Lord’s passion, it reminds us that there is glorification, but it comes after the suffering. As they say, the fast comes first, then the feast. Imagine what Peter, James, and John were thinking as they went down the mountain.
Monday of the Second Week of Lent
February 26, 2024
Lk 6:36-38
Mercy seems to be in short supply these days. There is a lot of very public unkindness and even malevolence. Mostly, we accept it as just part of the human condition today, but this culture of ill-will can invade and even affect the way we behave. We can find our hearts tightening, and we can become quite stingy with mercy ourselves.
Today’s Gospel message is a call to open up our hearts in mercy, “just as your father is merciful.” God is a just judge, but we are not to judge or condemn. When we show mercy, his mercy is poured out on us. When we forgive, we can taste what God must feel when we ask his forgiveness. When we give, our hearts will overflow with gratitude for what we are given.
I love the rich imagery of how God will measure out our gifts, “a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing, will be poured into your lap.” Such lavish love! It’s a reason to start warming up a cold heart, especially in Lent.
Tuesday of the Second Week of Lent
February 27, 2024
Mt 23:1-12
When I first read today’s Gospel, I shook my head and thought, you tell them, Jesus! Let these religious leaders have it for not practicing what they preach! Call them out for their showy displays of so-called piety! Go after them for demanding, not earning, my respect! Humble them right up!
But there’s something that happens when I think a passage like this is all about “them” and not about “me.” The Holy Spirit shows up and bops me on the back of the head, saying, “Hey, this is for you, too.”
While I am not a scribe or a Pharisee, I can find myself behaving in some of the ways Jesus describes. I can be a finger-wagger if someone doesn’t observe a ritual or devotion the same way I do. I catch myself wanting to get “extra credit” for a pious performance. And I can be guilty of walling myself off emotionally from people different from myself. I can be quite an “un-humble” Catholic.
Lent is a good time to examine these thoughts and behaviors and clean house in our hearts and minds. Time for us to “humble up.”
Wednesday of the Second Week of Lent
February 28, 2024
Mt 20:17-28
Jesus’ ministry turned a lot of long-held beliefs and assumptions on their heads. Love your enemies. The poor are blessed. The last is the first. But somehow, for the disciples, it’s still not sinking in.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus tries to walk them through it again. Their assumption was that if Jesus was the Messiah, it meant triumph, prestige, and power. And the mother of the sons of Zebedee wanted her boys in on that. So she asked Jesus to make them his right-and-left-hand-men. Even after he explained that those positions were not his to give, the other ten were upset–still thinking maybe there were positions they could jockey for.
Jesus wanted something different for his disciples. They were to stand out by NOT throwing their weight around like the Gentile authorities. Following his radical example. Walking with him to the cross. “Just so, the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
Thursday of the Second Week of Lent
February 29, 2024
Lk 16:19-31
What strikes me every time I read this passage of scripture is that the rich man knows Lazarus by name. The rich man, whose name we do not know, knows Lazarus’ name. But knowing Lazarus by name inspired no personal connection and no action on the part of the rich man.
Lazarus lay in the doorway, so we imagine the rich man had to step over him every time he went in or out. He probably averted his eyes to avoid looking at the sores on Lazarus. The rich man ate well but never sent a plate out to Lazarus. Lazarus demanded nothing of the rich man.
Both died. One received comfort who received nothing but torment in life. One received torment whose life had been awash in comfort. The rich man, even beyond the grave, saw Lazarus as someone who should serve him, giving him water to cool his tongue and going to warn his brothers.
It’s a sobering reading early in Lent, reminding us that we will be accountable for how we respond to the poor and marginalized in this life. Jesus reminds us of this often in Scripture. Like the rich man, we have the teachings of Scripture to guide us. He and his brothers chose to ignore them.
Friday of the Second Week of Lent
March 1, 2024
Mt 21:33-43, 45-46
Jesus knew how to speak to his audience. He knew how to work the room. When preaching the sermon on the mount, he used simple language, agricultural imagery, references to weather, seasons, cooking, and the like. He spoke then to the “crowds,” which could be made up of any age or profession but certainly included laborers, craftspeople, and farmers. So he spoke their language.
In today’s Gospel reading, his audience was chief priests, elders, and Pharisees–highly educated in Scripture and the law. So, Jesus used centuries-old references that they would certainly know and understand. And it cut right to the heart.
Jesus couldn’t have been far into the parable before the chief priests and elders would have recognized themselves. He uses the familiar image of the vineyard from Isaiah, which represents the people of Israel. And his point is made: they have disrespected the owner and dishonored what was given to them to tend. Jesus also uses a passage from Psalm 118 to make his other point: these spiritual leaders have rejected him, the stone that would become the cornerstone. Jesus’ authority is very clear when he tells them that “the Kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that will produce its fruit.”
While today’s Gospel may seem to be directed at the religious leaders of Jesus’ day, there are messages here that can also challenge us. Do we hold back from God what is his? Is Jesus the cornerstone of our faith life? Jesus knows how to speak to our hearts, too.
Saturday of the Second Week of Lent
March 2, 2024
Lk 15:1-3, 11-32
Today’s Gospel kicks off with a familiar jab at Jesus: he welcomes sinners and eats with them. What they called “sinners” in Jesus’ time were not people who had minor slip-ups but those who had seriously broken the laws of God. Tax collectors were considered extortioners–really unsavory characters. Their outrage that Jesus would associate with these types of people prompted his telling two parables: The Lost Coin and The Lost Son. Today, the Church invites us to meditate on the parable of the prodigal son.
The prodigal son story is really a story about a father and his two sons and his crazy, wild, passionate, fatherly love for both of them (not just the squanderer).
The younger son demands his share. The father agrees and seems pretty unemotional about it. The son just wanted out. So he left. And we know the rest. The kid spends all his money, a famine hits, and he takes work doing the unthinkable for a Jew: tending to unclean swine. When he was beyond miserable and sinking fast, he came to his senses and decided to go beg for a job from his dad.
While the younger son drafted and rehearsed the speech he planned to give to his father and walked home barefooted, we learn that the father was far from unemotional. When he saw him from a distance, he ran out to meet him. To us, this doesn’t seem unusual, “he ran to his son,” but well-off men of the time did NOT run. It would be considered silly and undignified to run. But he didn’t care. What was in his heart went to his feet, and he ran.
Now, the older son. The stalwart son. The obedient son. He wasn’t watching for his brother’s return; he was busy working in the field as was expected of him. When he saw the rowdy crowd gathering for the celebration, instead of being overjoyed that his brother was home, he got mad and sulked. The father loved his oldest son enough to leave the party and beg him to have compassion for his brother. The father was loving and kind to his son, who was being, for all intents and purposes, a petulant jerk.
The story’s message for Jesus’ critics is the same now as it was then. God loves the prodigals, the sinners, and the tax collectors. God also loves the older sons, the devout Pharisees, and the scribes. When today’s “prodigals” turn to the Father, he runs out to meet them, and the celebration begins. The Father also tenderly invites the older sons of today to the feast.