21st Sunday Ordinary Time

The Vatican Museums in Rome feature extraordinary art and historical treasures.

Visitors can explore a vast collection amassed by the Catholic Church and the papacy over centuries. Highlights include iconic Roman sculptures and some of the world’s most significant Renaissance masterpieces.

The museums contain roughly 70,000 works, of which 20,000 are on display, including the Sistine Chapel with its ceiling decorated by Michelangelo.

They rank second in the list of most-visited art museums in the world after the Louvre.

One of the items on display is a bust of the Roman god, Janus.

This bust is of two heads looking in opposite directions.

I am reminded immediately of this statue as I read today’s Gospel (Jn 6:60 -69).

“So Jesus asked the twelve, “Do you also wish to go away?” Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.” (vv. 67ff)

“Lord to whom can we go?” – such a declaration of faith.

However, from the mouth of this same man we hear, “Now Simon Peter was standing and warming himself. They asked him, “You are not also one of his disciples, are you?” He denied it and said, “I am not.”  One of the slaves of the high priest, a relative of the man whose ear Peter had cut off, asked, “Did I not see you in the garden with him?” Again, Peter denied it, and at that moment the cock crowed.” (Jn. 18:25 – 27)

Can it possibly be the same man?

“Who can we go to?”

“I am not!”

Nicholas of Cusa [1401–1464]) was a German Catholic theologian who coined the phrase  the coincidentia oppositorum – or “coincidence of opposites” .

Such a phrase sums up the life of St. Peter.

And mine/ours!

The “coincidence of opposites.” – This is what we all resist and oppose much of our life.

How do you live with your own contradictions and inconsistencies?

There has been a theology which maintains we “eliminate” one of the opposites.

Maybe it is not about ‘eliminating’ rather, holding the opposites, as Jesus did on the cross. To live inside this space of creative tension is the very character of faith, hope, and love.

An example from my own life.

I am an ordained priest in the Roman Catholic Church. As such I am called to live a life of celibacy (that is to remain single)

I am also a professed member of a religious congregation, (The Society of Mary). Part of that profession is a vow of chastity.

I am also a male, with all the sexual energy and potential that is inherent in being male.

There is the possibility for conflict between the ordained, professed state and the primary energy inherent in being male.

In my early years I presumed fidelity meant eliminating. However, eliminating meant denial of an essential part of my constituent being.

I now believe, and I need acknowledge the belief is mine, that I am now invited to live within the “tension of opposites!”

And, don’t we all? Frequently, as an ordained priest I sit in the confessional and hear the same penitent week in and week out confessing the same fault. It says little for the efficacy of the Sacrament. Or does it?

Might it be that living within the “tension of opposites” is where we are called to live and the Sacrament of Reconciliation ceases to be an exercise of expulsion and elimination but rather an expression of the “coincidence of opposites.”

Remember, Jesus was crucified between two thieves, a Good Thief and a Bad Thief, and he spoke with both! “There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, with Jesus between them.” (Jn 19: 18)

 

20th Sunday Ordinary Time

The illustration is titled “A Woman Baking Bread”, painted in 1854 by Jean François Millet, (i814 – 1875). The painting is in Kröller-Müller Museum, Netherlands.

During the Communion ritual the Eucharistic minister holds up in front of each communicant a small, round, white host and declares boldly, “The Body of Christ” to which each declares equally boldly, “Amen”

Really?

Equally, a Eucharistic minister holds in front of the communicant a cup made either of a precious metal, or glass, or a ceramic substance and declares, “The Blood of Christ” and again the reply, “Amen”

Really?

Body and Blood! And we willingly consume each!

Few things speak as wonderfully about life as does the smell of fresh bread.

The smell of fresh bread makes you hungry.

And yet bread begins its life ground!

Kernels of wheat that had to be ground in their individuality to become something communal, flour, which then had to endure fire to be baked into the substance that gives off the smell of life.

Bread begins life brutally!

As St Augustine once said in a homily:

“For surely this loaf was not made from one grain of wheat. The grains were separate before they came together to became one loaf. They were joined together by water, after first having been ground.  For if the many kernels are not ground and are not moistened by water, they could not come to this form, that we call a loaf. … And then without fire, there is still not a loaf of bread. (Sermon 272)

Bread must be baked in a fierce heat. Bread then speaks of both joy and pain.

Wine too speaks in this double way: On the one hand, it is a festive drink, the more solemn the occasion the more expensive the wine chosen.

In some cultures, it is a sign of festivity; in others it is common and communal.

Wine speaks of family, of gathering, of friendship, community, of love, of remembering.

We celebrate, with wine.

However, like bread, wine has another side: It begins its life, crushed!

Individual grapes are crushed and, in their being crushed they are bonded.

Bread – calling to be eaten after having been ground and fired.

Wine – calling to be drunk after having been crushed and been brought together.

Eucharist is more than a small round white host.

Eucharist is more than a gleaming chalice.

Eucharist is about being ground. Eucharist is about being crushed.

Eucharist is about being fired; Eucharist is about being bonded.

Let us consider this before we say boldly, “Amen”.

18th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Have you noticed, for many of us, throwing away a pair of old shoes is not the easiest?

We have bought the new replacement shoes, but!

Shoes tell stories. They are a treasure trove of memories.

The older the shoes, the deeper the memories.

Places I have walked.

People I have walked with.

I have a pair of trainers that are well past their use-by date. However, wearing these trainers, I walked in the Footsteps of St Paul through Tarsus, Corinth, Philippi, Cappadocia, Ephesus, and other towns and cities.

Each Saturday morning, I slip my feet into these shoes, and as I tie the laces, I remember the people I walked with, the places we went, and the events we shared—like a hot-air balloon ride over the terrain of Cappadocia.

The shoe details tell their story.

Perhaps it is the little scuff mark on the toe of the left shoe that happened the very first day it was worn.

The little flecks of blue paint that remind me of the front fence painted.

That persistent patch of gum that remains stuck to the bottom of the shoe.

That shadow of a mark where I desperately attempted to erase a small stain.

And of course, the more I rubbed in desperation the more the marked showed.

Most of all, shoes speak of comfort.

My feet slip into them, and I am immediately relaxed. The shoe and my foot are one.

When we go on a morning or evening walk, we always tend to put on an old pair of shoes that are familiar to our feet and comfortable to no end. I feel pampered in a good, reliable old pair of shoes.

When you buy a new pair of shoes, free of dirt, stains, and marks, you are starting a new story.

The only way that story grows is by wearing the new shoes.

At first, they pinch a little, feel rigid, unpliable and may even have a “new shoe squeak”.

Of course, the only way the new shoe will become less rigid and more pliable is through constant wear.

Dirt and debris accumulate on them over time—things you can’t erase, no matter which wipes or soap you use.

Eventually, they become comfortable.

St. Paul to the fledgling Christian community in the city of Ephesus writes, “ put away your old self, and clothe yourselves with the new self, created according to the likeness of God.” (Eph.4:22 -24)

The only way the “new self” becomes comfortable is if I dare leave the “old self” on the wardrobe floor!

This “new self” will initially feel uncomfortable, a little pinched, perhaps rigid and unpliable.

Allow this “new self” to acquire dirt and debris; walk through a muddy puddle! Best of all, let this “new self” accumulate some stains – comfort is assured!

17th Sunday of Ordinary Time

New Zealand’s free school lunch programme Ka Ora, Ka Ako – Healthy School Lunches, was launched by the Labour government in 2019 with the aim of reducing food insecurity, and “putting students in a good place to learn”.

Initially a two-year initiative for primary and intermediate students, it was expanded to secondary schools in February 2020.

Currently almost 230,000 students from over a thousand schools and kura get a free lunch every school day through the programme. That’s around a million lunches every week.

The name Ka Ora, Ka Ako is about being healthy and well to be in a good place to learn.

(The Māori word, ora means life, or to be alive, and the word ako means to both teach and learn.)

While in opposition, the Act Party campaigned on abolishing the programme, with leader David Seymour calling Ka Ora, Ka Ako “wasteful”, “unaffordable”, and a “marketing stunt”.

Now we have a National-Act-NZ First coalition government and David Seymour, as associate minister of education, has been put in charge of the free school lunch programme, which is under review. “I’ve said as Act it’s a huge waste of money and it should be gone,” he said on radio recently.

How can feeding children be a “huge waste of money”?

I have lived and worked in an area where such a free school lunch programme is in effect. Seeing young children with smiles on their face and a twinkle in their eye does not accord for me as being “wasteful”, “unaffordable”, and a “marketing stunt”. And those words spoken by a member of Parliament on a Cabinet salary and travel perks galore.

‘Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?’ (Jn 6:5)

Kids learn better with a full stomach. Parents, teachers and principals all agree on that.

Fortunately, with allocation of some $478 million in the current Budget the school lunch programme has been spared from the chopping block and will continue in its current form for the rest of the year.

It may be as equally true of adults as of children when being taught – they learn better with a full stomach.

In this Sunday’s Gospel is about being taught and being fed.

“When he looked up and saw a large crowd coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?”

It is also about someone/something having to give away in order that others may be fed.

 “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?” Jesus said, “Make the people sit down.” Now there was a great deal of grass in the place; so they sat down, about five thousand in all. Then Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, as much as they wanted.