As a priest and teacher, the first habit I learnt was remembering the names of my students and my parishioners. It’s a difficult art but it evokes a certain feeling in the one whose name is remembered. And we all want to be remembered and called by our name.
When people we know fail to recognize us, usually we are disappointed. We like people to get our name right, if only for the purpose of correct identification. Perhaps few of us would risk asking our friends, “who do people say that I am?” Hearing reports of what people say about us or how they see us, however politely phrased, can dishearten us. What if none of the answers match our own self-understanding?
When Jesus asks his disciples “Who do people say that I am?” the guesses all point to someone else, Elijah or John the Baptist or one of the prophets, figures celebrated for pointing forward to the Messiah. In contrast to what others think, Peter speaks on behalf of the disciples who have shared Jesus’ life intimately: he identifies Jesus as the Christ. Jesus is not numbered among those pointing to the Messiah; he is the Messiah.
In response to Peter’s confession, Jesus swears the disciples to silence, as if he does not wish to be known publicly as the Messiah. The traditional understanding of the title portrayed a spectacular figure who would accomplish victory over Israel’s oppressors by the use of military might, a conqueror who would never be touched by suffering or defeat. This understanding is a world away from Jesus’ understanding of his own role. The secret of his true identity will be revealed in his passion. The cross will uncover the truth of who he really is.
Jesus speaks about himself through the figure of the Son of Man, who must suffer and be rejected and be put to death. Not only must he suffer but experience comfortless suffering in being rejected. That rejection robs the suffering one of his dignity. He has to face forsakenness. He will not die of natural causes but be put to death.
When the passion of Jesus gets underway, Peter will deny his master: “I do not know the man.” Only later will Peter fully understand the depth of meaning in what Jesus says: “If anyone wants to be a follower of mine….” Jesus compels no one, not even his disciples, to follow him on the road of suffering if they do, if we do, denial of self is the first requisite. That is essential if we are to take our cross upon ourselves and share Christ’s passion in the world.
The cross of Jesus was for Jesus alone. No one is expected to carry the burden that lay on him alone. Jesus invites us to take up our own crosses, the weight of suffering which comes our way when we follow in his footsteps.
The Son of Man has gone before us, and in following his way we find our community with God. As Jesus’s true identity was revealed in the story of the Son of Man. In the language of the letter of St. James, that happens when we put our faith to work. Our faith is tested in the real world, and reality comes to us often in the shape of a cross. In taking it up, in accepting its burden, we live up to our true name as followers of Jesus.
God is good, all the time!
Fr Williams Abba
“The only thing that counts is faith working through love” – Galatians 5:6
Life comes with many emotions, ups and downs, highs and lows, exasperation with desperation. Jesus experiences the same. He is angry and sad, takes pity, and has compassion. When he is emotional, his body responds. His stomach churns, he weeps, and he laughs. One response stands out uniquely. We rarely see him behave this way. When he finds people with physical and spiritual deafness, he sighs. When he does, he connects us to the power of prayer in overwhelming situations.
Jesus often uses miracles for people with physical conditions as teaching devices. They illustrate and reveal spiritual problems in the hearts of non-disabled people. In today’s gospel he travels to the region of the Decapolis, where the people bring him a deaf and mute man. Based on how the Greek text depicts his symptoms, he likely developed this condition over time. The Greek word for “muteness” signals a speech impediment, likely stammering or stuttering. He probably could speak and hear as a younger man but, over time, lost this ability. Struggling to communicate, he uses sign language to hear and can’t spit out his words.
His physical condition symbolizes a spiritual problem in Jesus’ day and ours. Religious people can gradually become deaf to the world’s needs. Isaiah the prophet warns this would happen— “they are ever hearing but never understanding.” People who are born into religious, God-fearing families are prone to tune out God’s word and are unable to hear, speak, or live God’s way.
The scripture readings indicate three symptoms: favoritism, lack of listening, and obstructed prayer. One behavior that induces spiritual deafness is favoritism toward the wealthy, influential, and famous. James’s congregation had so focused on treating the rich well that they tuned out the poor. They were more interested in social status and climbing than openness to God’s voice. Another symptom is a lack of listening and understanding one another. Everyone speaks their mind, but no one connects. The third symptom occurs in prayer. The spiritually deaf don’t know what to say. They can’t listen to God or communicate with him.
Have you experienced some of these symptoms? Have you been more focused on networking with the influential? Does your family, office, or team have lots of chatter, but everyone seems to be talking past each other? Are you distracted by all the content you consume and miss the people around you? Do you struggle with prayer? If so, then I have some good news for you. The solution is not a better network, more time with family, or a class on prayer.
Jesus’ answer is to unstop our ears. Notice what he does. He sighs and signs. He sighs not out of judgment, despair, or hopelessness but as an act of prayerful mercy. There are only two times Jesus sighs in Mark, both within a few verses of each other.
This sigh is a groan of grief and dismay over this man's condition. Maybe you have groaned similarly while standing over a hospital bed with a sick child. This is the groaning that Paul describes in Romans. Sometimes, we pray in the spirit, groaning too deep for words.
Then Jesus signs. To communicate with the man, Jesus uses his hands for sign language. Jesus illustrates what God does when we are isolated and shut off. When we feel like we can’t hear God’s voice and have prayed multiple times, God sends us signs of his presence. He unstops our ears by assuring us that he hears us. We look around to see the signs of his work.
Then Jesus invites us to sigh, groan, and grieve with him over the conditions of our world. We mirror him with appropriate responses to our conditions. We sigh to release CO2 from our lungs. We release what we hold onto inside and grieve over the sin in our lives and our world. We groan in our condition, desiring God to intervene. We become dismayed with our attempts to fix things. We learn to trust in Jesus’ intervention.
By sighing, groaning, and praying with Jesus, the spirit opens our eyes and hearts to hear the gospel. We become like this deaf and mute man able to hear and speak what we struggled to say before. We will repeat what Isaiah the prophet predicted…say to those who are faint-hearted, Be strong! Do not be afraid! Here is your God… the ears of the deaf will no longer be sealed.
Healing can begin today. The real miracle is that spiritual deafness is not permanent. You can allow Jesus to place his fingers in your ears and on your tongue and, in a bit of sign language, say to you, “Be opened.”
Hear the gospel again, know the condition of our world, and trust in the one who sighs, grieves, and reopens our ears and mouths. Because one day, we will sigh no more.
Peace & Joy,
Deacon Sal
Monday is Labor Day in the United States, a federal holiday that is traditionally regarded as the end of summer. Never mind that our monsoon season ends September 15, and the autumnal equinox arrives September 22.
Labor Day began with 19th century labor movement parades to honor hard-working people and celebrate unions. The Catholic Church has always proclaimed the dignity of work.
On World Labor Day, May 1, 2013, Pope Francis wrote:
“Work is fundamental to the dignity of a person.”
The Catholic Bishops have written:
If the dignity of work is to be protected, then the basic rights of workers must be respected--the right to productive work, to decent and fair wages, to the organization and joining of unions, to private property, and to economic initiative.”
In the very beginning, God tasked man with tending the Garden of Eden. It has always been our role to work the earth. We are challenged to harness creation for the common good. God has given each of us unique gifts and talents to put to work. Whatever our stage in life, work is an essential part of the meaning of life and a way to give glory to God.
As we enjoy this holiday, let us keep in mind the importance of work and workers in God’s plan for salvation. The Mass for Sanctification of Human Labor begins with this prayer:
“O God, who through human labor never ceases to perfect and govern the best work of creation, listen to the supplications of your people, and grant that all men and women may find work that befits their dignity, joins them more closely to one another, and enables them to serve their neighbor.”
We have the story of a military commander who didn’t have to flaunt his military experience to make a different kind of case. Joshua, in our first reading, had lots of military experience. He was a brave field commander in Jewish history. He was loved and respected. At his Expiration Term of Service (ETS), the elders, judges and scribes are called to listen to the last farewell of their distinguished leader. He does not recall his military victories, nor does he ask the people to cherish what he has done for them. Instead, he asks them to choose whom they wish to serve: the God of their ancestors or the false gods of the land they now inhabit.
It is as if Joshua wants to be remembered not as the great military commander who brought his people to the promised land but as the prophet who brought his people to God again. This inner battle of faith seems to preoccupy him more than his military campaigns ever did. He gives the people the opportunity to close the book on the past or recommit themselves to the God of Israel.
Joshua is tired. He is old. Death stares him in the face. He has seen too much bloodshed to boast of the beauty of battle. He has seen too many ruined cities and disfigured corpses to sing of the glories of war. The old commander is concerned with the geography of the heart. Joshua knows that all choices have to be renewed, that people don’t stay dedicated to a cause just by continuing to exist. Joshua asks his people to choose, and he declares before them his own choice to serve the Lord. Thus, Joshua wins the last and most important battle of his life when he leads his people to a victory of infidelity. They declare: “we will serve the Lord, for he is our God.”
The choice that Joshua offered his people is echoed in our Gospel today. Jesus offers his own followers to choose to stay with him or join the ranks of unbelievers. After hearing Jesus’ teaching on the bread of life, many of the followers express their complete confusion. They find Jesus’ language intolerable. And many of them choose to leave him. Then, like Joshua to the twelve tribes, Jesus turns to the twelve apostles and gives them the choice to close the book on their shared past. But just as the twelve tribes told Joshua that they could not reject the Lord after all he had done for them, so Peter asks Jesus how could they turn to anyone else for the message of eternal life. So, the apostles exercise their freedom of choice by choosing to stay with Jesus.
Do we not find the same scenario being rehashed today? A huge number of Catholics today refuse to believe that the bread and wine in the hands of the priest after consecration are the body and blood of Christ. The statistics are staggering.
Both Joshua and Jesus respect people’s freedom of choice. They know that past choices can become old and exhausted, that they can die from being abandoned on the scrap heap of life. Past choices have to be kept alive by new commitment, because decisions in faith are never settled once and for all. The apostles do what we must do: keep on choosing Jesus, stay with the one who has the message of eternal life. That is something that must always be outstanding on our agenda today, and for the rest of our lives.
God is good, all the time!
Fr Williams Abba
“The only thing that counts is faith working through love” _ Galatians 5:6
Of the four evangelists, John stands out as the one who gives preeminence to the Eucharist. For him, Jesus is the Wisdom of God in the flesh, he embodies it in his person. Jesus is the way who, like Lady Wisdom in our first reading, invites people to come and eat the bread that nourishes them for life. Jesus’ dream is not only to invite people to the banquet of life but to be the banquet of life. Himself! His dream is to give his flesh for the life of the world. Not surprisingly, when he shares this dream with his listeners, they cannot understand how it can be.
How can Jesus’ dream be reality? How can he give his flesh as real food and his blood as real drink? Is this just an empty dream? Jesus’ dream to share himself as food for others is no vanity of the night: he acts his dream with open eyes; he makes it possible on the cross in the total giving of self.
It is helpful to remember that for Jesus, the word ‘body’ meant more than it means to us – it meant the entire person. Also, in Jesus’ day, blood was regarded as the principle of life – when a person lay wounded and bleeding, the loss of blood meant the person often died. When Jesus says, “This is my body, my blood, given for you”, what he is saying is, “This is the totality of my being, all that I am.” This is a great summary of Jesus’ message: a self-giving love that is offered without holding anything back. This is offered as the food of life.
In the sacrament of the Eucharist, we draw life from the body and blood of Jesus. “Do this in memory of me.” The act that we do in this church today and always is the deed of memory: we not only recall Jesus, but we also consume his memory as the food of life. We are nourished by the real food and real drink: in eating and drinking we have new life in him. We eat the Wisdom of God; it becomes part of our very being. It becomes our resource for leaving folly and living a life of wisdom.
“Do this in memory of me.” These words summarize what is expected of us. It has been pointed out that the words of consecration make excellent marriage vows. When husbands and wives struggle to enflesh the words. “My body given for you”, when they struggle to reach out to each other in gentleness, in trust, in love, they are realizing in a special way, “Do this in memory of me.” When we try to leave folly and break out of our selfishness, when we try to be bread broken for others, we realize the words, “Do this in memory of me.” When that is done, the Wisdom of God takes flesh again.
The challenge for us today is to do the work that God wants us to do. That work is believe in the one whom God has sent, listen to him, follow him, deepen our relationship with him, and then revolution will take place within us and each of us will become like Jesus and we will be filled with the food that gives us everlasting life.
\God is good, all the time!
Fr Williams Abba
“The only thing that counts is faith working through love” _ Galatians 5:6
Aromas, especially those associated with great meals and restaurants, connect your mind to your heart. Think about your favorite cake or pie; how it smells fresh from the oven, or the rolls your grandmother made. When you order from this restaurant or enjoy a family feast, you want to take home some of the leftovers to keep sharing them in the coming days.
There’s a reason that aromas and love and leftovers go together. Scents activate the spiritual parts of the brain. They take you back to the person who prepared the meal and a place where you were loved. Aromas can do more than give us warm memories of the past. They can change our behavior toward others.
This week, we come to church for one of those meals in the eucharist. We may not remember the first time we shared it, but we know what it does to us. We know what it smells like to walk into our church. But here’s the mystery of this moment: when we consume the meal, we give off a heavenly fragrance to others.
In the Gospel of John, Jesus confronts a different reality that has consumed his people. They are consumed by the same spirit of grumbling, bitterness, and malice the Israelites had in the desert. And they’re starting to take that out on him and everyone else. So, instead of reprimanding them, he teaches them the truth about his life, which can change their lives forever. He announces that he is an eternal bread source for them. He uses a powerful statement that we call an “I am statement.” Like a parable, this statement symbolically describes earthly and heavenly realities. Jesus shares two powerful truths. He gives heavenly bread from God, and he is the bread itself.
Of course, this idea confuses those outside the Christian community, Jewish leaders in the crowd. They ask questions that most people would ask today, trying to make sense of his statement logically- how can a man be a food?
But Jesus is not explaining this process scientifically. He’s discussing the work he does spiritually. He wants to show them why consuming him makes an eternal difference. Eating with Jesus by consuming this bread is an ongoing part of the believer's life. He feeds us, serves us, and then we eat with him. To eat this bread and drink this wine is to consume Jesus. We continue the life he lived on earth today into everlasting life. Jesus receives his bread from God, and he gives us his bread. We digest this bread because Jesus wants this gift to consume every fiber of our being and for this bread to be dramatically revealed in our relationships with others. This bread can transform our attitudes and behaviors from being self-centered to others-focused. We eat him because he is part of the ongoing work of making us a faith community. Without it, we are doomed to slowly be poisoned by the toxic food of bitterness, grumbling, and resentment.
Go back for a moment to the aroma of that fantastic meal. Our brains are rewired in that scent. When the meal is served, someone tells the story about who first taught them how to serve the cornbread dressing, knead the dough for grandma’s rolls, grill the hamburgers, or bake the casserole. Every time you enjoy the meal, the person’s memory and their teachings come alive in the family. You breathe deeply, remember the person’s life, and share it with others. The only way to learn the recipe is to eat the meal, watch someone make it, practice it yourself, serve it to others, and enjoy the leftovers. That’s what happens with Jesus. When he serves us the meal, we discuss his amazing work. We create a living memory of him that can be relived every day of our lives.
He’s also the secret ingredient to this meal—the bread itself. We “taste and see that the Lord is good” and realize we are consuming the body and blood of our Lord. That’s why this is so good for us. To partake in this meal is to share abundantly in eternal life. This is what it means to believe in Jesus.
When we eat this bread, we replace the old malice and slander toxins with kindness and compassion. We turn our focus away from ourselves and toward others.
Do you know what happens then? Something miraculous happens. We become the secret ingredient. Our actions and habits give off the aroma of Christ to others as if we have been in the same room with him. We end up smelling and acting just like him.
In other words, we need more baking, less bitterness, more service, less shaming, more God, and less grumbling. You will find that right at the table with the one who supplies the bread, serves the meal, and enters your life. Just as he did for the crowds on the hillside, Jesus is as present in the leftovers you share with others. Our Savior Jesus is life for the world. Amen.
In today’s Gospel from John, we hear Jesus say,
"I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst."
This is the second of five weeks where we depart from the gospel of Mark and read from the gospel of John. These readings from John chapter 6 are known as the “Bread of Life Discourses”.
The Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke are quite similar and so are called synoptic gospels. John’s gospel is very different. In it Jesus makes many “I am” statements. In the gospel for this 18th Sunday, Jesus declares himself as the Bread of Life come down from heaven to give life to the world.
In July, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops held their 10th National Eucharistic Congress. At Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis, Indiana, 50,000 people gathered to celebrate the true presence of Jesus, the Bread of Life come down from heaven to give life to the world.
Fr. Abba, in his July 21 bulletin article, talked about this momentous event. If you didn’t read it, go to the parish website (https://www.sescc.org) where you will find an archived copy of the bulletin. It is worth the time to read.
I was not able to attend the Congress, but I watched the televised proceedings. The closing Mass was very moving. Every speaker was inspiring and challenging. Much of the congress is on “YouTube”. If you search “Eucharistic Congress 2024”, you will be able to watch each segment as your time permits.
Jonathan Roumie, who portrays Jesus in the series “The Chosen”, which I highly recommend, gave a moving presentation. Bishop Robert Barron and Father Mike Schmitz, who I watch regularly, challenged me, as only they can.
Instead of watching the depressing news and election coverage, try watching these inspiring talks. I think you will gain a renewed appreciation for the Eucharist, the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus Christ, which is offered to us at every Mass. May God bless you as together we share in this beautiful gift and our shared mission to bring Christ to the world.
Deacon Marty Pogioli