Golden Gate4/30/2024 Tuesday of the 5th Week of Easter
The central image of The Dialogue is Jesus Christ as a bridge between God and human beings. Before sin, God and humanity were united. Sin is the river that divides us from God, but Jesus, fully human and fully divine, made himself a bridge. The bridge is our way back to God. Still, the choice is ours. “But my son’s having made himself a bridge for you could not bring you life unless you make your way along that bridge,” God says to Catherine. It is up to us to climb the steps and make our way along the bridge. Spending a week in San Francisco and living in the Jesuit Community at USF, I can’t help thinking about the “Golden Gate Bridge” which is, of course, an iconic symbol of the city. I was struck yesterday with Catherine of Sienna's image of Christ as bridge and this song came to mind. When you're weary Feeling small When tears are in your eyes I'll dry them all I'm on your side Oh, when times get rough And friends just can't be found Like a bridge over troubled water I will lay me down Like a bridge over troubled water I will lay me down Listening to today’s Gospel where Jesus promises “peace,” but living in such turbulent times, I’m thinking of Jesus himself as the bridge over the troubled waters of our time? Could his gift of peace bring some interior calm when our hearts are troubled or afraid? I have always questioned what the difference is between Christ’s peace and the peace that the world gives. God knows that the world does not give much “peace.” At best it is a “cease-fire” or a “pause in hostilities.” But Jesus promises his disciples himself as a genuine “sign of peace.” This indwelling of the Spirit of Jesus gives us the gift of our true selves that is not dependent on the world’s approval, applause, or affirmation. Christ’s peace is its own sign of approval as precious in God’s eyes. In the midst of a very troubled, fear-inducing, not very peaceful world, it is a very splendid thing, knowing that we carry the peace of Christ within. It is up to us to share that peace of Christ in whatever ways we can. And so, I think of Christ as our “Golden Gate Bridge!” “Your friends make known, O Lord, the glorious splendor of your kingdom.” When I think of all the old friends I have visited this past week and the gift they have been to me over so many years, I can’t help taking the verse of the psalm to heart. And when I return today and people ask me how the trip was, I will simply say, “Splendid!” I’d also like to suggest you take a look at the “Peace Dance” which is one of my favorites https://vimeo.com/60764715#t=2040s
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"Think" So?4/29/2024 Monday of the 5th Week of Easter/ Memorial of St Catherine of Sienna I found myself mimicking the posture of the “Thinker” this morning. As you know, it is one of Rodin’s most famous sculptures. The statue greets the visitors at the Palace of the Legion of Honor in San Francisco. Of course, the “thinker” is too absorbed in his thoughts to acknowledge all those who come to see the works of art at the Museum. The “Thinker” reminds me of how we can sometimes become so intently focused on what’s on our minds that we don’t notice what’s going on around us. I was also thinking of how the posture of the “Thinker” closes him in on himself. Would you ever imagine that the “thinker” was praying? There’s something about the prayer experience that invites an open posture and gestures that reach out. Can you imagine if the “Thinker” came to life and became the “Prayer?” What would he look like? Today is also the memorial of St Catherine of Sienna. A few years back an article appeared in America magazine about her and her theology written by J.D. Long-García. He spoke about the importance of her writings, especially The Dialogue, which is a conversation with God. In the article he speaks of three primary images; trees, a vineyard, and a bridge. You cannot understand The Dialogue apart from its imagery. For example, Catherine describes the human soul as a tree. The tree, which is made for love, should be planted in the soil of humility. The marrow of the tree is patience, and the branches are true discernment. Being grounded in humility and self-knowledge, a key aspect of Catherine’s thought, the soul can discern the will of God. Once we know who we truly are, we will live as children of God. “All of you are trees of love,” God says to Catherine. “You cannot live without love because I made you for love. The soul who lives virtuously sets her tree’s root in the valley of true humility. But those who live wickedly have set their root in the mountain of pride, and because it is badly planted, it produced fruit not of life but of death.” St. Catherine also describes the soul as a vineyard. God is the gardener, but through our actions we can work the vineyard of our soul. We are pruned through suffering and are grafted to Christ through the incarnation. And all human beings are connected to each other “without any dividing lines.” God plants Christ, the true vine, into the vineyard of humanity. “This is why I have put you among your neighbors: so that you can do for them what you cannot do for me,” God says to Catherine. “That is, love them without any concern for thanks and without looking for any profit for yourself.” The central image of The Dialogue is Jesus Christ as a bridge between God and human beings. Before sin, God and humanity were united. Sin is the river that divides us from God, but Jesus, fully human and fully divine, made himself a bridge. The bridge is our way back to God. Still, the choice is ours. “But my son’s having made himself a bridge for you could not bring you life unless you make your way along that bridge,” God says to Catherine. It is up to us to climb the steps and make our way along the bridge. Although I haven’t had a chance to visit any of the California vineyards, I’ve been “wowed” by the trees, especially in the Praesidio and Golden Gate Park. Comparing them with the “Thinker,” these trees by their nature are “Prayers” As Joyce Kilmer so famously wrote: I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree that looks at God all day, And lifts her leafy arms to pray; As is my custom, I share a copy of the fresco, “Good Government” which is in the City Hall of Sienna. The image of the women dancing inspired my choreography for a Medieval Christmas. Here’s a link to the 1988 performance of this dance. Notice how two of the dancers make a bridge with their arms under which the other dancers go.
Elegant Ladies Dance "Remains" of the Day4/28/2024 Fifth Sunday of Easter The photos I’m using today are the “remains” of yesterday. My dear friend, Brad Colby took me to the Russian Orthodox, Holy Virgin Cathedral, here in San Francisco. It is also known as the “Joy of all who sorrow.” It certainly is a joy to see the beauty of the Iconostasis and all the icons that adorn the Church. Brad and I remained there for some time immersed in the beauty and holiness of the place. And with the joy of being reminded of the God who is “greater than the human heart, there was the sorrow thinking about Russia’s war with Ukraine and the devastation that it has caused. In today’s Gospel Jesus uses the image of the “Vine and the branches.” As I reflected on my visit yesterday, I marveled at the beauty of the various branches of Christian faith, not just in the Orthodox tradition, but also, the branches of Protestant and Evangelical churches. Can we see that we are all clinging to the same Vine, who is Jesus Christ, and not judge one or the other as being the “one and only, true Church.” ? I entitled this brief reflection “Remains” of the day, because the word “remain” appears a dozen times in John’s letter, the Alleluia Verse and the Gospel. You could say that “remain” is the “refrain” of the day. The meaning, of course, has to do with belonging to Christ in a way that we are constantly nourished by his life, by our abiding in him. “Remain in me as I in you” is one of those “mystical mantras” that can help to center and focus us. It will certainly be my mantra for the day. Usually when I reflect on this Gospel I’m drawn to the organic connection between the vine and the branches and the experience of pruning and being pruned. Since this Gospel appears again on Wednesday, I’ll have more to say about it then. For what remains of the day, I invite you to gaze upon the icons in the photos above and reflect on the many, many branches of Christianity that cling to the Vine, who is Christ. A Heart(h)ful of Love4/26/2024 Friday of the Fourth Week of Easter
Jesus said to his disciples: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be. Where I am going you know the way.” Thomas said to him, “Master, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” I hear these words of Jesus as an expression of a “heart full of love.” He is encouraging, consoling, getting right to the heart of the disciples’ fears, worries and anxieties. Don’t we all need to hear Jesus speaking these words to us now? They really do come from the heart. They are an invitation to keep our focus clearly on him as the Way, the Truth and the Life. Truth is, it’s difficult these days to keep anything in focus. There are so many crippling anxieties that come from what we know and threatens us and what to expect in the future. How in the midst of this mess do we take his words to heart and trust in his love? To paraphrase Thomas, we might say: Jesus, we do not know where we are going; how can we know the way? He says to us now what he said to those first disciples. “I am the way and the truth and the life.” If we keep our eyes “fixed” on Jesus, if we keep his way, his truth, and his life in “focus,” as challenging as that may be these days we may have a better sense of where we are going, who we believe in and how we are called to live. So why is the title of this reflection a “hearth”, and not a “heart full of love?” It’s because the word “focus” comes from the Latin word for “hearth” or “fireplace.” And this reflection is all about keeping your heart “focused” on Jesus, the Way, the Truth, and the Life. I also could have titled this reflection, “A Heart Full of Love.” Yesterday, I had a very healing conversation with an old friend who really does embody those words. Come to think of it, each of the friends I have been meeting with these days have hearts full of love. I wonder if I can say the same for myself? I think so, but my heart is more often “troubled” than “trusting.” I chose the photo of the hearth at Eastern Point because of the Rublev Icon of the Trinity which hovers over the hearth. Oh for the Spirit's hovering over the world as she did once upon a time. The other photo below is one I took yesterday on a walk through Golden Gate Park. There is something about the beauty of this flower that speaks to my heart. Does it do the same for you? Over Time/ Overtime4/25/2024 Thursday of the 4th Week of Easter/ Feast of St Mark, Evangelist
You may recognize the row of Victorian houses in the photo above. They are the iconic “Painted Ladies” in San Francisco’s Alamo Square. I was there yesterday having lunch with a dear friend who lives in the blue one. (the furthest right.) George and I became friends during his Theology studies in the early 1990's. We have remained friends “overtime” although we have only been together on my rare visits to San Francisco. In addition to George, I will have the opportunity to visit with friends from different stages of my life. A friend from high school (1963) A friend from my “regency/teaching” days (1973) A friend from my theology studies. (1976) A friend from my Pastor days at St Ignatius ( 1999) A friend from my time at St Mary of the Angels in Roxbury (2010) and most recently, a friend from NYC (2018) This experience of being with people who have become friends “over time,” connects with a reflection I did on Thursday of the 4th week of Easter a few years ago. When Paul does speak to the assembly in the Synagogue in Antioch, he tries to make his listeners understand what God has been doing “over time” with the people of Israel. He invites them to remember how God has been working with his covenant people throughout their history and how “in good time” God has given them a Savior, Jesus of Nazareth. Paul’s point is that God has been working “overtime” to bring to fulfillment the promises given to his chosen people. As you may know from personal experience, there are times in our lives when we feel that God is absent. We feel alone and abandoned. It’s only when we see the pattern of God’s love and faithfulness in our lives as we look at our lives “over time,” that we can recognize how God is working “overtime.” We have so much to learn from creation! Especially in this springtime, when we see the time it takes for new buds to form, flowers to blossom and leaves to be full grown. Sometimes it’s consoling to recognize the gifts we have received “over time,” especially those friends who remind us of God’s presence in our lives. At the same time, I realize how difficult it is to see how God is working in our present time. The wars, the chaos, the immense suffering does raise the question, "Where is God these days?" I have no clear answer to that question! Oops! It dawned on me after I had made the “over time” connection, that today is the feast of St Mark. So let me add a few words about my favorite Gospel writer. Today the Church celebrates St Mark, the first evangelist. For a variety of reasons, his is my preferred Gospel when it comes to understanding the humanity of Jesus. I also had the opportunity to immerse myself in Mark’s Gospel when Dr. Michael (Mickey) Corso, when he was an undergraduate at Boston College, asked me to direct him in a theatrical presentation of the Gospel. He memorized the complete King James Version of the text, which was quite a task. A decade later, Mickey was working as a religious educator and decided on a revival of the performance. The second time was an inter-active performance in which the audience were drawn into the action as characters in the Gospel. Working with Mickey over the years gave me the opportunity to come to know the text inside and out. That is probably the reason that I was surprised and disappointed to see that the editors of the lectionary chose a Gospel for today that is not authentically Markan. A later editor decided that Mark’s ending with the women running from the tomb, terrified and amazed, was not sufficient and added additional verses. Had it been up to me, I would have chosen a passage from Mark’s Gospel that is uniquely Mark. I might choose the one where the man who had great wealth comes to Jesus. (Mark 10:17-21) 21 Jesus looked at him and loved him. “One thing you lack,” he said. “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” It’s the “look of love” that is uniquely Marcan. Matthew edits this line in his version. Can you imagine Jesus looking at you and loving you? How does that make you feel? Is there an invitation to prayer today to think about Jesus’ “look of love?” Although we hear about the “look of love” in this passage of they young man, can’t you imagine other times in Mark’s gospel where he looked at someone with love? Jairus’ daughter, for example? The woman who anoints him before the passion? Bartimaeus? The list can go on and on and include each of us. Let there be Light!4/24/2024 Wednesday of the 4th Week of Easter I received word this morning that my friend Suzanne Rowe Palacino whom I had preached about last Sunday passed away last night. As I reflect on her life that was so filled with her love for her family and friends, I think of the light and illumination her person and presence created for all of us who knew her. In today’s Gospel, Jesus says that he is the “light of the world.” I see Suzanne as turning and returning to the one who is this Light. As it turns out, four years ago on this day, still in pandemic mode, I wrote the poem “Ever After” It was inspired by seeing the sudden budding of the trees and the leaves beginning to form. As you can see “turning to the light” or photosynthesis is an important symbol in the poem. Ever After Never before have trees, breaking bud, sprouting shoots, leafing out. left me in tears, tearing away the mask of death and decay, crying out, “Here I am again and again, Let there be light!” When you saw me Autumn last, I was breaking down sporting colors leaving out life’s last hurrah for reds, oranges and yellows no greening or grinning, time’s grim toll taken decidedly leaving behind what was, disbelieving. When you saw me Winter last I was waiting for warmth, wanting for light, something to synthesize the life within, sleeping, dormant. You only saw me naked; not even a fig leaf to cover my barren branches. Now you see me, new buds breaking new life leafing new sprouts showing new hope springing turning to the light seen, thesis and antithesis of your confinement. Let my finery leave you in tears teach you to turn, and turn and turn again to the Light A photosynthesis of faith? Too much to ask for? Too much to hope for? Look and learn from me. Leaves believe. And you? Ever after will trees breaking bud sprouting shoots leafing out leave their imprint on my unbelieving heart, their hope for returning running through my veins, reminding me to turn and turn and turn again to the Light. The photo of the roses below is from my trip to San Francisco. I share them in memory of my friend, Suzanne Rowe Palacino. Infinite Sadness/Infinite Love4/22/2024 Tuesday of the 4th Week in OT
One of the unexpected graces of writing on a daily basis is looking back at reflections over the past five years. Sometimes, I’m amazed at how relevant the prayer and reflection can be for the present time. This is what I wrote a few years ago, quoting from a homily I gave in 2015. “We have a treasure of life and love which cannot deceive, and a message which cannot mislead or disappoint. It penetrates to the depths of our hearts, sustaining and ennobling us. It is a truth which is never out of date because it reaches that part of us which nothing else can reach. Our infinite sadness can only be cured by an infinite love.” Whose voice is this? Do you recognize it? Who is it who speaks words of hope and not despair, of joy and not cynicism, of mercy and not judgment? Whose voice is this that seems to know what we need so desperately to hear? Yes, it is the voice of Pope Francis. The quote I began with comes from the final chapter of his Joy of The Gospel. We just heard the very familiar Gospel passage that speaks of Jesus as the Good shepherd. I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I will lay down my life for the sheep. There is an intimacy between Jesus and us, his sheep. He is the lifeline that connects us to God and to each other. He is the one who knows us at the very depths of our being. He knows our hopes, our dreams, our loves, our hurts. HE knows our brokenness and most of all he knows our need for mercy and healing. He is the one who gathers us into his arms to hold and embrace us especially when we are “infinitely sad”. “Our infinite sadness can only be cured by an infinite love.” Have you ever thought of “infinite sadness”? Something in these words of Pope Francis has transfixed me since I heard them again. This is no fleeting emotion that fluctuates with happiness. This is not a sadness that depends on mood, on how we are feeling because of some disappointment. Infinite sadness describes a state of being where we are completely at a loss as to what to do to make things better. If you can imagine an ocean of sadness, you only begin to feel the “infinite sadness” that Francis refers to. It is what God must feel when God beholds our world and sees the destruction, the violence that human beings perpetrate on each other. In human terms. it is what we may feel with the loss of a loved one, or the loss of a lifetime of human experience. It is the infinite sadness of a voice that says, “Where did the time go? And what remains for me? Infinite sadness can only be cured by an infinite love. What makes Francis such a good shepherd is that he really seems to know us, you, and me. He knows our human condition. He knows how easy it is to be discouraged and even cynical about what life has to offer. That is why he is constantly urging us to go with our emptiness to Jesus who wants to fill us with his love, go to Jesus with our brokenness who only wants to heal us with his love, go to Jesus with our infinite sadness, go to Jesus who only wants to turn our sadness into joy, our mourning into dancing. Pen and Inc.4/21/2024 Monday of the 4th Week of Easter This is my second post for today since I’m sitting in an airport waiting for a flight to San Francisco where I’ll be visiting friends for the week. I do expect to be keeping up with the reflections, but I know with the late-night arrival of the flight and the three hour difference, I won’t be in a frame of mind for posting. So, here’s tomorrow’s reflection a day early. How is it that a single word, “pen” can mean a writing instrument or an enclosure for animals like cattle and sheep? It is also the word for a female swan. It was the word “sheepfold” that led me to the title of this reflection “pen and inc.” “Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever does not enter a sheepfold through the gate but climbs over elsewhere is a thief and a robber. When I searched the definition of “sheepfold,” I found the synonym “pen.” I began to think of the other meaning of the word. “Pen” which is a writing instrument. When you write in pen and ink, you know that you are writing something that is meant to last. Yes, it’s possible to erase what you have written using “white out” but that never looks very good. If you use “indelible” ink, chances are that what you have written will last a very long time. So why “pen and inc.”? What we hear from the lips of Jesus is that we are “incorporated” into his flock, his sheepfold. We belong to him. “I know mine and mine know me.” There is an indelible mark we receive in baptism and confirmation in which Christ claims us for his own. That indelible mark can not be erased. It can’t be “whited out” even if we stray from the fold. The Good Shepherd is always looking for us, lost sheep. In prayer today, you may want to focus on your belonging to Christ. He is there for you, no matter what. His relationship with you is written in “pen and indelible inc.” My best friend, JA, was a pen collector so I get to use some of his beautiful writing instruments. Really a gift he has left me! Since today is Earth Day, I share with you a penitential prayer I wrote in 2018 for this day. It's based on the Act of Contrition.
Oh Mother Earth, we are heartily sorry for having offended you. And we detest all our sins against creation because we dread the loss of this heavenly earth and the pains of a planet that we have misused. But most of all because we have offended you, mother earrh who are all good and deserving of all our love. We firmly resolve with the help of God’s grace to confess our sins against you, to do penance and care for our earth, to change and amend our ways in this world. And to always recognize creation as God’s gift. As "Good" as it gets4/21/2024 Fourth Sunday of Easter/ Good Shepherd Sunday
I love this photo of the shepherd holding this little lamb. He looks like a "good" shepherd to me. Here’s the homily I just delivered for the Jesuit Community here at Campion. Soul of Christ, sanctify me. Body of Christ, save me. Blood of Christ, inebriate me. Water from the side of Christ, wash me. Passion of Christ, strengthen me. O Good Jesus, hear me. Within your wounds hide me. Permit me not to be separated from you. From the evil one, defend me. At the hour of my death, call me and bid me come to you That with your saints I may praise you For ever and ever. Amen., Which one of us does not know the Anima Christi by heart? It is a prayer woven into our Jesuit lives. Placed where it is at the beginning of the Spiritual Exercises, it sets the tone for what’s to come. It’s an invitation into intimacy with Jesus Christ. I think I first learned it formally in a classroom as a freshman at Regis more than 60 years ago. I probably had sung it in Our Lady of Victory church even before, not knowing that the treacly hymn, Soul of my Savior, was based on the prayer. And why begin with this homily with the Anima Christi on Good Shepherd Sunday? In the Gospel Jesus speaks of the intimate relationship the “good shepherd” has with the sheep. “I am the good shepherd. A good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep…. I am the good shepherd and I know mine and mine know me.” Jesus speaks of the intimate connection he has with each of us. My sheep hear my voice.” The “Anima Christi prayer captures this intimacy with it images of Jesus’ gift of his whole self. And as you know, the grace that we ask for in the Exercises, especially in the Second Week is to “know, love, and follow him more, intimately, more closely. Speaking of the Exercises, one of the subtle changes that has occurred in the language that describes the experience of giving them is the use of the word “accompaniment.” As the spiritual directors at Eastern Point would introduce themselves, they would say, “The people that I’m accompanying this week….” They wouldn’t say “directing” but “accompanying.” Essentially, they were saying they weren’t in charge, but that they were there to “listen” and “be with” the person on retreat. The word, “accompaniment” is on my mind this morning. It was the focus of a homily I gave this Good Shepherd Sunday 6 years ago. At the time I was pastor of St Francis Xavier Parish in NY and we were reading Elizabeth Johnson’s book, Creation and the Cross in which she brilliantly dismantles the Atonement/ Satisfaction Theory of St. Anselm. What I said then was this: As an alternative to the Satisfaction theory, Johnson speaks of the “A theory of Accompaniment”. God is the one who accompanies humankind on our life journey. God is the one, so in love with the whole of creation that God desires to give Godself in a way that redeems all of creation. She focuses on the image of God in Second Isaiah, where God is restoring, redeeming God’s people, bringing them out of exile, creating “anew”. She focuses as well on the ministry of Jesus and the Resurrection, not ignoring the Cross but letting it take its place as part of the narrative of Redemption. And what a beautiful image of Accompaniment we have today in the image of the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The Good Shepherd freely gives of himself. “I know mine and mine know me”. Jesus Christ is the Good Shepherd who accompanies us as our Way, who is our Truth, and our Life. Accompaniment makes so much sense. If God is love as we hear in John’s letter and if we all are Children of God, doesn’t it make sense that God would want to accompany us as a loving parent does her children? The other reason “accompaniment” is on my mind is this. Yesterday, I was asked to “be with” a friend, and former parishioner who is very near death. She is still very young and has been struggling with a devastating form of cancer for the past year. I told her that today was Good Shepherd Sunday and asked if we could pray Psalm 23 together. I wanted her to hear the words, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. Near restful waters he leads me…. “ Accompanying her was her husband and closest friend of more than 40 years. And as I anointed her and gave her Eucharist, I felt that I could hear the voice of Jesus say to her, “I am with you.” At this stage of our lives, “accompaniment” may be the best we can do. We are not called to do great works for the glory of God, but simply to be with each other and let the Good Shepherd be there for each of us. Soul of Christ, sanctify us. Body of Christ, save us. Blood of Christ, inebriate us. Water from the side of Christ, wash us. Passion of Christ, strengthen us. O Good Jesus, hear us. Within your wounds hide us. Permit us not to be separated from you. From the evil one, defend us. At the hour of our death, call us and bid us come to you That with your saints we may praise you For ever and ever. Amen., I’m including a link the “Anima Christi” from For the Greater Glory of God. vimeo.com/265442500#t=1260s Glean's Gleem4/20/2024 Saturday of the 3rd Week of Easter
If you read my brief entry for yesterday, you may have “gleaned” that the word that captured my fancy was “glean.” The funny thing was that I was doing a crossword puzzle yesterday morning and the clue was “extract.” I realized the answer was “glean” and that made me smile. “Glean” is a favorite word of mine. It’s really an unusual word and I use it sparingly. I honestly cannot “glean” why the word “glean” is so captivating. A word search made me realize how appropriate the word was for a reflection on the “Bread of Life.” Its original meaning is “to gather grain or other produce left by reapers.” How perfect is that! Years ago, I created a dance which I called the Bread Dance. It uses the gestures of becoming bread, beginning with the scattering of the seed and the gathering of the wheat. You might enjoy seeing it on the final day of the “Bread of Life” discourse. Bread Dance I am very grateful that I waited until today to post this reflection. As I prayed with the Gospel today which comes at the end of the discourse, we hear that many people have given up on Jesus since his words are “too much” for them. Then, in one of the most poignant moments in John’s Gospel, Jesus asks Peter, “Will you too leave me?” Peter, for a change, gets the correct answer. “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” After such this long, controversial “back and forth” between Jesus and his critics, we witness this very human moment where Jesus expresses his anxiety about his closest followers leaving him, we hear the simple profession of faith in him by Peter, of all people! So what may we glean from all of this? However, we rationally understand the “bread and wine” as the “body and blood” of Christ, we are asked to make the same profession of faith that Peter did. “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” AuthorAs an ordained Catholic priest for 45 years and a member of the Jesuits for 57 years, I've had a great deal of "spiritual" experience! This is a place where I can continue to share my thoughts about God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit and what it means to live the "mystery of God." Categories |
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