8th Sunday Ordinary Time

The ICC Men’s Champions Trophy is an international cricket trophy currently being played with the host nation being Pakistan.

Teams from all over the world are competing.

The image attached to this reflection looks, for all the world, like a local cricket match between club sides.

And it is.

The game is being played at a local park in Kooyong, a suburb in Melbourne, Australia.

The rules governing this game and the games being played before tens of thousands in stadia throughout Pakistan are pretty much the same.

Each team has eleven players. Each team has a turn at fielding and at batting.

The game is played on a ready-made surface called a “wicket.”

The pitch is rectangular, 22 yards/20.12 m in length and 10 ft/3.05 m in width. The bowling creases border it at either end.

Each team, in turn, uses a bat and ball.

Two umpires are used to assess dismissals.

However, significant differences exist between the grounds at Kooyong in Melbourne and the National Stadium in Karachi.

The wicket in Karachi has a grass base that is heavily mown and rolled.

The wicket in Kooyong is concrete!

The ball used in Karachi is a regulation cricket ball made from a cork core bound in several layers of nylon or wool. The core is then placed inside a leather exterior with a raised seam of six rows of stitching.

The ball used at Kooyong is made of white plastic with metal washers inside to give the ball an audible sound when bowled or thrown.

You have it – the game being played at Kooyong is “blind cricket”

Invented in Melbourne in 1922 the game of blind cricket is a version of the original game which has been adapted so that it can be played by blind and partially sighted players.

Today’s Gospel has Jesus’s caution about the “blind leading the blind” (Lk. 6: 39).

For ‘sighted’ cricket players to play blind cricket they may well have to “take the plank out of your own eye first.” (Lk.6 : 42)

7th Sunday of Ordinary Time

The name Andrew Lloyd Webber is synonymous with musical sensations such as Evita, The Phantom of the Opera, Jesus Christ Superstar, Cats, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.

One of his lesser-known stage musicals is titled “Aspects of Love”. The musical is based on the 1955 novel by the British author David Garnett.

The musical is not as well known as other “mega” productions of Lloyd Webber, however, there is a notable song from the musical that fits with today’s Gospel theme of love: the song is titled ‘Love Changes Everything’

As I write these words the USA and Russia are meeting Saudi Arabia to consider, as The Guardian newspaper highlights, “to explore mutual opportunities to end the war in Ukraine.”

How genuine these talks are is yet to be determined, however, if these talks begin in a spirit of mutual love then perhaps “love might well change everything/everyone.”

Love, love changes everything
Hands and faces, earth and sky
Love, love changes everything
How you live and how you die

Love can make the summer fly
Or a night seem like a lifetime
Yes, love, love changes everything
How I tremble at your name
Nothing in the world will ever be the same

Love, love changes everything
Days are longer, words mean more
Love, love changes everything
Pain is deeper than before

Love will turn your world around
And that world will last forever
Yes, love, love changes everything
Brings you glory, brings you shame

Nothing in the world will ever be the same

Off into the world we go
Planning futures, shaping years
Love bursts in, and suddenly
All our wisdom disappears

Love makes fools of everyone
All the rules we make are broken
Yes, love, love changes everyone
Live or perish in its flame
Love will never, never let you be the same
Love will never, never let you be the same

6th Sunday of Ordinary Time

My first ministry appointment as priest was to the parish of the Sacred Heart in Hastings, Hawkes Bay.

I was a young and relatively fit young man.

I regularly rode my bike from Hastings to Havelock North (some 5km) and swam in a heated pool.

Swimming up and down the pool on a Tuesday morning was difficult.

Tuesday mornings belonged to young mothers and their preschool children.

Hopeless for an energetic young man and his quest for fitness.

Superb for a young man learning about his God!

The young mothers stood in the pool near the edge. Then, with a clap of the hands and a call of the child’s name, the mother extended her arms and PLOP!

The young child would jump off the edge towards their mother and land in the water!

The child’s initiative to jump came from the reassuring call of the mother, “Come to Mummy!”

The child knew that voice and could trust that voice. The voice was reassuring.

In today’s First Reading from the prophet Jeremiah, we hear,

“Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord,

whose hope is the Lord.

They are like a tree planted beside the waters

that stretches out its roots to the stream:

it fears not the heat when it comes;

its leaves stay green;

in the year of drought, it shows no distress,

but still bears fruit.” (vv 7,8)

5th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Whom shall I send? Here I am, send me!” (Is. 6:8)

Among the many books written by Henri Nouwen (1932-1996), one stands out as an enduring little classic, The Wounded Healer.

For those who knew him, this book is especially powerful because, without expressly intending to, it describes so well the man himself.

It was because of his own wounds that he was able to touch the lives of so many people. “By his wounds we have been healed,” St Peter wrote of Jesus (1 Peter 2:24).

From Nouwen, again, from his book Out of Solitude: “When we honestly ask ourselves which persons in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand.

“The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not-knowing, not-curing, not-healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is the friend who cares….

“By the honest recognition and confession of our human sameness we can participate in the care of God who came, not to the powerful but powerless, not to be different but the same, not to take our pain away but to share it.

“Through this participation we can open our hearts to each other and form a new community.”

In the first reading at today’s Mass, God’s call made Isaiah aware of his own weakness and unworthiness, exactly as Jesus’ call to Peter made Peter blurt out, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!”

If, as Christians, we do not carry the precious knowledge of our own weakness and sinfulness, then all our attempts to help another are nothing but an ego-trip:

    • by ‘helping’ you they are feeding on your strength and making you weak.
    • by ‘loving’ you they are seeking ways to snare you and make you dependent on them.
    • by ‘caring’ for you they are preening their own image.

“Go away from me, Lord, for I am sinful,” – that is how you can be of best use to me, replies my God.