30th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

 Ex. 22:21-27; 1 Thess. 1:5c-10; Mt. 22:34-40

Oscar Wilde tells a beautiful story called The Happy Prince. High above a city stood the statue of a prince, covered with gold, with sapphires for eyes and a large red ruby on the handle of his sword. When the prince had been alive, he had lived inside a palace where sorrow was carefully kept outside the gates. Everyone called him the Happy Prince because he had never seen suffering. But now, standing high above the city as a statue, he could see everything—the poor seamstress struggling to care for her sick child, the hungry young writer shivering in his room, and children suffering from poverty. A little swallow, preparing to fly away to warmer Egypt, rested at the prince’s feet. The prince asked the swallow to take the ruby from his sword to the poor woman. Then one sapphire eye went to another person in need,

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

 Is. 45:1, 4-6; 1 Thess. 1:1-5ab; Mt. 22:15-21

In Leo Tolstoy’s story What Men Live By, Simon, a poor shoemaker, is walking home one cold evening when he notices a man sitting almost naked beside a roadside chapel. Simon himself is poor. He has hardly enough money for his family, and his first thought is very practical: “If I go near him, he may become my problem.” So he walks past. But after a few steps his conscience troubles him. He turns around, gives the stranger his coat and takes him home. Simon’s wife, Matryona, is not delighted when her husband arrives with an extra mouth to feed. Their cupboard is nearly empty. But gradually her anger gives way to compassion, and she shares what little food they have. Then something remarkable happens: the stranger smiles. Tolstoy’s story reminds us that poverty can hide dignity, rags can hide holiness, and an apparently useless stranger can carry a mystery we fail to recognize. The first page of the Bible tells us why: “God created humankind in his image” (Genesis 1:27).

That truth opens the door to today’s Gospel. The Pharisees and the Herodians come to Jesus with a carefully prepared trap. “Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar, or not?” (Matthew 22:17). If Jesus says no, he can be accused before the Roman authorities; if he says yes,

28th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

 Is. 25:6-10a; Phil. 4:12-14, 19-20; Mt. 22:1-14

In Karen Blixen’s beautiful story Babette’s Feast, a French woman named Babette arrives as a refugee in a small, austere village in Denmark. She becomes the servant of two elderly sisters who live very simply. For fourteen years Babette cooks their plain meals and quietly serves them. Then one day she wins a large sum of money in a French lottery. Everyone assumes that she will now return to France and begin a comfortable life. Instead, Babette asks permission to prepare one magnificent French dinner for the sisters and their little community. She spends her entire fortune on the meal. At first the guests are suspicious. They almost seem afraid of enjoying themselves too much! But as the meal continues, something happens around the table. Old quarrels soften, memories are healed, people begin to smile, and friendship returns. The feast

27th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

 Is. 5:1-7; Phil. 4:6-9; Mt. 21:33-43

In Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s The Little Prince, the little prince discovers a garden filled with roses and is disappointed. Until then, he had believed that the single rose on his tiny planet was unique. Now he sees thousands that look exactly like her. Later the fox teaches him something important: his rose is special not because she is the only rose in the universe, but because he has spent his time caring for her. He watered her, sheltered her, listened to her complaints and protected her. Love had invested itself in that rose. Something similar lies behind Isaiah’s beautiful song of the vineyard. God says, “My beloved had a vineyard on a very fertile hill. He dug it and cleared it of stones and planted it with choice vines” (Isaiah 5:1–2). Nothing was neglected. The soil was prepared, the stones removed, the best vines planted, a watchtower built and a winepress prepared. Naturally the owner expected good grapes. Instead, “it yielded wild grapes” (Isaiah 5:2).

26th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

 Ezek. 18:25-28; Phil. 2:1-11; Mt. 21:28-32

In Shakespeare’s King Lear, the old king decides to divide his kingdom among his three daughters according to how beautifully each can describe her love for him. Goneril and Regan pour out magnificent words. They tell their father that they love him beyond measure. Cordelia, the youngest, cannot compete with such extravagant speeches. She loves her father deeply, but she refuses to decorate that love with flattering words. Lear is furious and disowns her. Yet, as the tragedy unfolds, the daughters who spoke so beautifully abandon their father, while Cordelia, who spoke so little, remains faithful to him. Lear discovers painfully that there can be a great distance between the words of the mouth and the truth of the heart. 

Jesus tells of two sons. The first says, “I will not,” but afterward changes his mind and goes. The second politely says, “I go, sir,” but does not go (Matthew 21:28–30). Jesus asks the wonderfully simple question: “Which of the two did the will of his father?” (Matthew 21:31). There is really no difficulty answering that examination question!

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

 Is 55:6–9, Ps 145, Ph 1:20–24, 27a; Mt 20:1–16a.

There is a beautiful scene in Victor Hugo’s novel Les Misérables. Jean Valjean has spent nineteen years in prison, originally for stealing bread to feed his sister’s starving children. When he is finally released, nobody wants him. Doors are shut in his face because his passport marks him as an ex-convict. Eventually Bishop Myriel welcomes him into his house, gives him food and a bed, and treats him with dignity. During the night, Valjean steals the bishop’s silverware and runs away. The police catch him and bring him back. We expect the bishop to condemn him. Instead, the bishop looks at Valjean and says, in effect, “My friend, you forgot the silver candlesticks I gave you as well.” He gives him even more than he had stolen. The police release Valjean. That undeserved kindness becomes the turning point of his life. Valjean had expected justice; instead, he encountered mercy. He had expected condemnation; instead, he received generosity. From that moment, he begins to become a different man.

24th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

 Sirach 27:30—28:7 (or 28:9); Romans 14:7-9; Matthew 18:21-35

In Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice, there is a tense courtroom scene. Antonio has borrowed money from Shylock and has failed to repay it. According to their agreement, Shylock now demands the terrible penalty written into the bond—a pound of Antonio’s flesh. Friends plead with him to show compassion, but Shylock insists on his legal right. Then Portia, disguised as a lawyer, makes one of the most famous appeals for mercy in English literature. She tells Shylock that mercy cannot be forced: it falls gently like rain from heaven upon the earth. It blesses both the person who gives it and the person who receives it. She goes on to say that earthly power becomes most like the power of God when justice is tempered with mercy. Then comes the sentence that touches the heart of today’s Gospel: if God dealt with every one of us only according to strict justice, none of us could confidently ask for salvation. Therefore, Portia says, since we ourselves pray for mercy, that very prayer should teach us to show mercy to others.

Peter comes to Jesus with what sounds like a very generous question: “Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive? As many as seven times?” (Matthew 18:21). Peter probably expected congratulations. Jewish teaching often spoke of

23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

 Ezekiel 33:7-9, Psalm 95, Romans 13:8-10, and Matthew 18:15-20.

There is an old story about two brothers who lived on neighbouring farms. For forty years they had worked together, shared machinery, helped one another during harvest and eaten at the same table. Then, over a small misunderstanding, they quarrelled. Angry words were exchanged, pride entered, and for several weeks they stopped speaking. One morning a carpenter came looking for work. The older brother pointed to the stream separating the two farms and said, “My brother lives on the other side. Build me a high fence so that I will never have to see him again.” The carpenter worked all day. When the farmer returned in the evening, he was shocked. There was no fence. Instead, the carpenter had built a bridge across the stream. At that moment the younger brother appeared on the other side. Seeing the bridge, he thought his elder brother had built it. He walked across and said, “After everything I said, you

Retreat: Prayer

 Prayer is not merely one activity among many in the Christian life; it is the breathing of the soul. Just as the body cannot live without breathing, the Christian cannot remain spiritually alive without prayer. We may survive for some time without many things, but without God we cannot truly live. Prayer is our conversation with the One who created us, loves us, sustains us and never abandons us.

A woman was at work when she received a phone call that her small daughter was very sick with a fever. She immediately left work and stopped at a pharmacy to get some medication. When she returned to her car, she discovered that she had locked her keys inside. She did not know what to do. She called home and told the babysitter what had happened. The babysitter told her that the child's fever was getting worse and suggested that she might find a coat hanger and use it to open the car.