Reflection for Sunday – September 22, 2024
Readings: Wisdom 2: 12, 17-20; James 3: 16-4:3; Mark 9: 30-37
Preacher: Gloria Ulterino
Today we’re on a journey, with Jesus. Learning, along with other disciples, what it means to follow him. In particular, learning about the courage it takes to follow him.
So, how do we learn the ways of Jesus? I’m reminded of the time when our oldest child, Stacey, was about 3 years old. We had just purchased our first house; and the center entrance hallway—which ran the entire length of the house—was dark brown in color. We couldn’t stand the color! So, my husband and I spent hours applying multiple coats of cream color paint to cover the brown. Coat after coat after coat of cream color paint!
When we were all done, on the very next day, our daughter picked up a green crayon and started to “paint” the newly painted white hallway. Looking so proud of herself, she was certain that we would appreciate her efforts. Somehow, by the grace of God, I could see her point of view. And somehow convince her of our gratitude, while still urging her to put down her green crayon!
It occurs to me that Stacey was not unlike our first disciples, trying so hard to follow in the footsteps of the ones she loved. She didn’t yet know about wicked people, deliberately testing God. Deliberately testing those who are good. Deliberately trying their patience. She didn’t yet know about sneering and torture. She didn’t yet know about jealousy and selfish ambition. No, she was simply being helpful.
By now, of course, she’s grown up. And we are older as well. We all know the ways of Jesus. And the ways contrary to Jesus. We all know the challenge of being the servant of all, especially when we don’t feel like it. We all know the desire to be first of all, rather than last of all. Who, and what, can help us out here? Who can show us what does not come easily?
I remember the story of four American women, who came together in August 1980 in order to serve the people of El Salvador with joy: Maryknoll Sr. Maura Clark, Ursuline Sr. Dorothy Kazel, Maryknoll Sr. Ita Ford, and Jean Donovan. From New York City; Cleveland, Ohio; and Brooklyn, N.Y. Jean put it this way: “Several times I have decided to leave—I almost could except for the children, the poor bruised victims of adult lunacy. Who would care for them? Whose heart would be so staunch as to favor the reasonable thing in a sea of their tears and loneliness? Not mine, dear friend, not mine.”
Dorothy even wrote to President Carter: “I have been here for six years and I have seen the oppression of the people grow worse each year…. Do you have any idea how many innocent people are being killed with American equipment?” At a party on December 1, 1980, they prayed: “Christ invites us not to fear persecution because, believe me, brothers and sisters, one who is committed to the poor must face the same fate as the poor. And in El Salvador we know what the fate of the poor signifies: to disappear, to be tortured, to be captive and to be found dead.” Indeed, on December 2, all four of them were watched by National Guardsmen … followed… stopped… brutally raped… killed… and left in a shallow grave by the side of the road.
Afterwards, Fr. John Sobrino proclaimed: “Salvation comes to us through all women and men who love truth more than lies, who are more eager to give than to receive, and whose love is that supreme love that gives life rather than keeping it for oneself.”
That was then, and this is now. In every corner of our world, in every corner of our nation. None of us is ever likely to serve the people of El Salvador, but we do serve the people we love… and the people we are challenged to love. Just as Jesus did. Just as Maura, Dorothy, Ita, and Jean did. For we each have God-given gifts. We each have a passion that moves us in certain directions. We each have a very significant—even if very tiny—role to play in healing our hurting world. We’re each on a journey with Jesus. Where will you serve? Where will I serve? What do you say?
Why does preaching matter to me?
Can you remember a homily you heard many years ago? I can. It changed my life. In July, 1983, I participated in my first preaching workshop, given by Dominican Sister Joan Delaplane. A powerful preacher and expert professor of preaching, she “became” the man at the pool of Bethsaida, by the Sheep Gate. Ill for 38 years, Jesus confronted him with this question, “Do you want to be healed?” He replied (to us), “you may think that’s easy to answer, but it’s not.” As she listed all the reasons why she simply was not sure whether or not she wanted to be healed, I could literally feel a fire in my belly. Wow! I must learn how to do this!
Preaching is a sacred responsibility for me. I have worked long and hard to give my best: to pray with the Scripture, to meet with a homily team for an hour of conversation on the readings, to search out commentaries, and always to wait on the Spirit of God for a spark of truth, on which to build the reflection. Preaching is a joy, a challenge, and a calling.
- Reflection for Sunday – September 22, 2024 - September 18, 2024
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