August 12th 2023. The Nineteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time

GOSPEL: Matthew 14, 22-33

Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini broadcast on Vatican Radio

 

Don Fabio’s homily follows the Gospel

 

GOSPEL: Matthew 14, 22-33

After he had fed the people, Jesus made the disciples get into a boat
and precede him to the other side,
while he dismissed the crowds. 
After doing so, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. 
When it was evening he was there alone. 
Meanwhile the boat, already a few miles offshore,
was being tossed about by the waves, for the wind was against it. 
During the fourth watch of the night,
he came toward them walking on the sea. 
When the disciples saw him walking on the sea they were terrified. 
"It is a ghost," they said, and they cried out in fear. 
At once Jesus spoke to them, "Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid." 
Peter said to him in reply,
"Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water." 
He said, "Come." 
Peter got out of the boat and began to walk on the water toward Jesus. 
But when he saw how strong the wind was he became frightened;
and, beginning to sink, he cried out, "Lord, save me!" 
Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand and caught Peter,
and said to him, "O you of little faith, why did you doubt?" 
After they got into the boat, the wind died down. 
Those who were in the boat did him homage, saying,
"Truly, you are the Son of God."

The Gospel of the Lord: Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ

 

​

On this Nineteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time, we explore an important theme in the Liturgy. We delve into the account of the disciples' journey across the sea, where Jesus joins them by walking on water. We also explore the poignant moment when Peter himself steps onto the water, with his eyes fixed on Jesus.

 

This gospel is thoughtfully complemented by the first reading. As usual, the first reading offers a lens through which we can interpret the Gospel of the day. In this instance, the first reading recounts Elijah's encounter with God on Mount Horeb, synonymous with Mount Sinai. This pivotal moment marks a transition in Elijah's prophetic journey. It signifies his preparation to embark on a new season, one characterised by greater vitality and courage, following a period of trials and even persecution.

 

How do these two texts intertwine? To fully grasp the essence of this Gospel, it's imperative to understand its underlying theme. Jesus urges his disciples to board the boat and set sail ahead of him, destined for the opposite shore. The motif of crossing the sea takes centre stage. This theme holds significant weight throughout scripture as it symbolises traversing boundaries. Crossing the sea mirrors the concept of Passover, the act of departing from a realm of bondage by miraculously navigating through the waters – a tempestuous and untamable element that, in biblical context, often signifies death (as seen in the story of the flood). It's reminiscent of the primordial waters, which withheld the gift of life until they receded, as well as the story of Jacob crossing the Jabbok River, a profound moment that led to a transformative change, reflected in his altered name. 

 

In life, too, we often encounter such pivotal junctures – fords that demand crossing, changes that compel us to journey beyond, new phases we must accept.

 

Indeed, even in the first reading, Elijah undergoes a profound change through his encounter with God. This divine meeting marks the pivotal moment for a new prophetic journey. Life presents us with countless junctures—instances when we must transition from childhood to adulthood, times of embarking on new chapters, like marriage, dedication, surrender, and embracing a mission or calling. These moments push us beyond our comfort zones, urging us into uncharted territory, into the realm of the unfamiliar, change, and metamorphosis. We're well aware that this voyage can be both intimidating and imperative. Change is an intrinsic part of life; failing to adapt could lead us to become a mere shadow of our genuine selves, a superficial representation of the inner beauty within us.

 

Similarly, Jesus compels His disciples to confront change and transition, a challenge they directly experience. Indeed, the term "compel" is used, suggesting an element of urgency. The fishermen are accustomed to the frequent nighttime storms that arise on the Sea of Galilee due to local weather patterns. This remains true today, with currents converging at the lake's centre, presenting such challenges. The disciples squarely face this adversity. 

 

With any big change, a trial inevitably emerges—a loss, the conquering of a mindset, maturity, the acquisition of new habits, a renewed perspective on life, confronting novel circumstances, a fresh living environment, a different phase of existence. As we navigate these waters of change, we realise that the Lord treads upon these trials. We come to comprehend that He is greater than any of our fears; if God is God, no greater power exists. He is fully capable of mastering any situation. The disciples experienced fear while they were in the boat, but Jesus reassured them, saying, "Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid." The crux of dispelling fear lies in this: "It is I." This phrase is more than just a superficial acknowledgment using the verb "to be." No, it is the name of God, the ineffable, His very identity. I am, God is, God is reality, God acts, God saves us. This reality emerges—that God's power is greater than anything we fear. 

 

In life, we often magnify what we serve, elevating it above God—our idols, our fears, our attachments. In a dream of St. Francis, God asked: “What holds more value, serving the servant or the master?” The master should be served, not the servant. Yet, frequently we serve the servant. We should serve the master, and follow the master's lead, not the servant's. Here, we encounter Peter, propelled by his enthusiasm, requesting to partake in this experience. This, truly, is an authentic transformation—the instance when we stride beyond our fears: "Command me to come to you on the water." Essentially, it is God who can incite us to surmount these challenges. Peter steps out of the boat because Jesus beckons him. Jesus awaits us on the waters of our fears and calls to us, saying, "Come." In this Gospel, He reassures us that He is with us, inviting us to advance toward Him, to align ourselves with His divine will, to embark on life as He intends.

 

Peter is weak, as we all are. He becomes fearful and begins to sink, crying out, "Lord, save me." This image embodies both prayer and our human frailty. Peter can't make it on his own. He needs to be saved. If he looks at the wind, the wind is stronger than he is. If he looks at the wind, he isn't looking at Jesus. The wind appears to be the only thing that exists. But Jesus is always there. Jesus reaches out his hand and grasps him. It means that they were close, it means they were even far from the boat, it means that Peter had somehow walked that far. So, why did Peter doubt, even though he had already walked on the water? This also applies to us. How many times has God already worked in our lives? How many times has He shown us His power? Why do we still doubt? How many times have we seen his providence accompany us? Why are we still afraid?

 

In the next trial that you experience, look at how you’ve already been supported by God's Providence and by His fatherhood up to this point. Let's not doubt, let's truly recognize that He is the Son of God. Let God show us His power over the sea, as He steps into our boat, into our lives. What is the boat? Peter has to leave the boat, which represents his way of weathering the storm, of surviving the fears of life, and walk towards Jesus. This is an experience we must all undergo in order to truly live, in order to walk on the water. We must abandon our own solutions and instead we must attempt to walk on the word of Christ. This is what changes everything and makes life truly beautiful.

 

All of us are called to something great and beautiful, but we're in our boat. The Lord's words often fill us with fear, and His calling may sometimes seem like a threat. Thus, we can understand why there are few vocations, why so many people remain on their boats, clinging to their defences against life's challenges and refusing to let go. We need to showcase individuals who walk on water, so that others might have the courage to step out. We need to exhibit many Christians who stride upon the very things that terrify others. That's why life often compels us, just as it did with Jesus and His disciples, to walk amidst storms, to live within tempests. The storm is where we encounter the Lord, who is always mightier than our fear.

“In the Stars the Glory of His Eyes – Tales from an Irish Tour Guide in Rome”

FROM IGNATIUS PRESS

Tales of unexpected blessings, hilarious true stories, unique perspectives on the lives of the saints. An original, entertaining and orthodox presentation of the Catholic faith. You won’t be able to put it down!

"Captivating."

— Elizabeth Lev, Professor of Art History, Rome.

“Entertaining.”

— Cardinal Seán Brady, Ireland.

"I laughed out loud many times, and told the stories to others who laughed just as hard."

— Sally Read, Author.

"Enchanting."

— Bishop Brendan Leahy, Diocese of Limerick.

"Unique and insightful."

— Archbishop Kieran O'Reilly, Cashel and Emly.

July 23th  2023. The Sixteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time

GOSPEL: Matthew 13, 24-30

Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini broadcast on Vatican Radio

 

Don Fabio’s homily follows the Gospel

 

GOSPEL: Matthew 13, 24-30

Jesus proposed another parable to the crowds, saying:
"The kingdom of heaven may be likened to a man
who sowed good seed in his field. 
While everyone was asleep his enemy came
and sowed weeds all through the wheat, and then went off. 
When the crop grew and bore fruit, the weeds appeared as well. 
The slaves of the householder came to him and said,
'Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? 
Where have the weeds come from?'
He answered, 'An enemy has done this.'
His slaves said to him, 'Do you want us to go and pull them up?'
He replied, 'No, if you pull up the weeds
you might uproot the wheat along with them. 
Let them grow together until harvest;
then at harvest time I will say to the harvesters,
"First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles for burning;
but gather the wheat into my barn."'"

​

The Gospel of the Lord: Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ

 

The readings today warmly welcome us with a passage from the Book of Wisdom, which beautifully expounds on God's indulgence. It describes God's patient nature, which allows us to make mistakes, offering us the opportunity to repent and come to our senses. As the Psalm echoes, 'You are good, Lord, and you forgive.'

 

In contemplating the theme of God's Forgiveness and His patience with our imperfections, we encounter the parable of the weeds: the sowing of bad seed among the good, performed by an enemy in the vast field which is our world.

 

Here, we are confronted with the complex nature of reality. Life presents us with a mixture of good and not-so-good aspects. We often face unpleasant or even disturbing circumstances in our everyday lives.

 

It is in this challenge that we must learn to examine and understand the diverse elements of reality. Reality has various origins. We have what is good and comes from God – the wholesome, beautiful, and constructive aspects – and we also have what is destructive and stifles the good. How often contradictory elements coexist within the human heart! How should we navigate this reality? The first reading presents the theme of God's indulgence, and the parable urges us to grapple with the master's strange decision not to uproot the weeds until they unmistakably reveal themselves as such. In this world, both good grain and weeds coexist. The difference lies in the grain, which turns golden when mature, while the weeds remain green and fruitless. This colour distinction allows for differentiation. There is a risk of uprooting the good grain along with the weeds. The master's idea is to refrain from intervening harshly and violently because there is always something good worth protecting. In all of us, in the world, there is something valuable that must be defended. And it is worthwhile to wait for the good to ripen because goodness has its own timing; it will reveal itself as good, meaningful, and salvific.

 

This is how we should nurture the new generations: never passing sharp and definitive judgments on those who are still growing. Adolescents may sometimes be difficult and trying, but there is life and goodness in them, and we must trust them. They need time to mature, and eventually, they will be able to distinguish between the weeds and the fruitful grain – the beautiful and significant elements. We must be cautious not to live according to a logic that prioritises justice and the need to fix everything immediately. A tendency towards uncertain intervention, characteristic of a generation focused solely on justice, may push us to intervene prematurely, without giving things time to develop naturally into what they are meant to be. This is especially crucial from an educational and relational standpoint. We need to be vigilant against the impulse to discard everything when negative elements are present. As mentioned before, this impulse is not compatible with the guidance of the Holy Spirit.

 

The second reading of the liturgy tells us, 'The Spirit comes to the aid of our weakness, for the Spirit Himself intercedes with inexpressible groanings.' We, who are inherently weak, might wonder how we could ever pray adequately or relate to God in a presentable and worthy manner. Yet, the Spirit comes to our aid, supporting us in our weakness. Our vulnerability becomes the very space where the Spirit operates, the pivotal aspect of our relationship with God.

 

Be cautious if you believe that you have everything sorted out, fixed, and adjusted perfectly. That's never the case. It's a trap, a deceptive mindset that can lead us to adopt a harsh attitude, cutting off potentially good things before they have a chance to reveal their true nature. If we were to judge Francis of Assisi based on his youth, we might have dismissed him as immature, pleasure-seeking, disorderly, and focused on trivial pursuits driven by mere desires for quick rewards. Yet, we would have overlooked the fact that he would later become one of the greatest Saints in Church history. Similarly, if we were judged during times of ambiguity and contradiction in our lives, we might have been robbed of the beauty and significance that later emerged. The fruits in our lives, just like in the life of the Church, often take time to mature, and we must have faith in this gradual process.

 

Our focus should be on what truly matters, which is life itself. It's essential to orient everything towards bearing good fruit, allowing the Holy Spirit to work within us. We should never lose hope or hastily discard something. Instead, we must patiently wait for God's work to come to fruition and completion.

“In the Stars the Glory of His Eyes – Tales from an Irish Tour Guide in Rome”

FROM IGNATIUS PRESS

Tales of unexpected blessings, hilarious true stories, unique perspectives on the lives of the saints. An original, entertaining and orthodox presentation of the Catholic faith. You won’t be able to put it down!

"Captivating."

— Elizabeth Lev, Professor of Art History, Rome.

“Entertaining.”

— Cardinal Seán Brady, Ireland.

"I laughed out loud many times, and told the stories to others who laughed just as hard."

— Sally Read, Author.

"Enchanting."

— Bishop Brendan Leahy, Diocese of Limerick.

"Unique and insightful."

— Archbishop Kieran O'Reilly, Cashel and Emly.

July 2nd 2023. Thirteenth Sunday of the Year

GOSPEL: Matthew 10, 37-42

Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini, broadcast on Vatican Radio

Don Fabio’s reflection follows the Gospel reading ...

GOSPEL: Matthew 10, 37-42

Jesus said to his apostles:

“Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me,

and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me;

and whoever does not take up his cross

and follow after me is not worthy of me.

Whoever finds his life will lose it,

and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.

"Whoever receives you receives me,

and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me.

Whoever receives a prophet because he is a prophet

will receive a prophet’s reward,

and whoever receives a righteous man

because he is a righteous man

will receive a righteous man’s reward.

And whoever gives only a cup of cold water

to one of these little ones to drink

because the little one is a disciple—

amen, I say to you, he will surely not lose his reward.”

The Gospel of the Lord: Praise to you Lord Jesus Christ

1. It is not possible to follow Christ and to continue following the urges of our infantile scheme of survival, trying to keep Mum and Dad happy. How many saints have had to go against the absolutes of family life to live the greatness of their vocation.

The Gospel for this thirteenth Sunday of ordinary time is radical, serious, and very adult in nature. It calls us to go beyond a mediocre Christianity that is like an insurance policy that comes to our aid in times of trauma. The theme is prepared by the story in the first reading of a woman who becomes fertile as a result of welcoming a prophet as a prophet. Here we see the lifegiving character of the word of God when it is welcomed openly. In the Gospel, we might be surprised to hear the radical demands of the Lord, but let us never forget that the life of faith is a calling to an extraordinary life. It is not a calling to a comfortable existence, nor to a life of survival and self-protection. The statements of Jesus are disconcerting: “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” To lose one’s life – what is being referred to here? During the 1990s, the era of the “New Age”, Christianity was transformed into a system aimed at wellbeing. The true Gospel, however, is always destabilising and calls us to a life that is not simply the life given to us by our parents. Our parents gave us natural life. Jesus, true God and true man, whose divine person took on human flesh, transforms human life into life as children of God. It is an extraordinary life. The Our Father says, “on earth as it is in heaven”. We are called to live this extraordinary heavenly life, the life of the prophet, to be bearers of a word that bears in itself the very power of God. It is not possible to follow Christ and to continue following the urges of our infantile scheme of survival, trying to keep Mum and Dad happy. How many saints have had to go against the absolutes of family life to live the greatness of their vocation. Just think of Francis of Assisi handing his clothes back to his father and breaking his dependence on him.

2. This is the fecundity that we are called to, to be born into a new life. To pass from the life given to us by our parents to a life that is born from above, as Jesus tells Nicodemus, to live under a different fatherhood.

The first reading speaks of fecundity. This is the fecundity that we are called to, to be born into a new life. To pass from the life given to us by our parents to a life that is born from above, as Jesus tells Nicodemus, to live under a different fatherhood. When Jesus says not to call anyone on earth our father, he is not saying that we neglect our parents. Charity demands respect, care and love for our parents, but we shouldn’t think that the life they gave us is the only true life. There is a greater and more noble life, the life of the Spirit. Again, as Jesus tells Nicodemus, what is born of the flesh is flesh, what is born of the spirit is spirit, and often these two types of life are in opposition. There are many “absolutes” that come from our infancy: habits formed in times of discontent, by virtue of the various roles we had to assume, the compensations that we yearned for, the deficiencies that we experienced, etc.. If we keep obeying the dictates of this infantile structure, we will never arrive at the capacity for love according to God. God’s love resets all of these elements and begins from zero, taking as its starting point the things that the Lord has done for us, from his grace, from his power. We see in the catacombs of Rome that the early Christians measured the days of their life as beginning from the moment of their baptism. They took new names, just as Christ gave new names to some of his disciples to show that they were becoming different people, entering into a new life, a different life, a greater life.

3. Trying to get Christianity to fit within our natural lives is to reduce Christianity to a parody of itself, to something mediocre. Because we have diminished Christianity to something horizontal, to something that suits our material interests, we end up reducing it to a moral message and nothing more.

Trying to get Christianity to fit within our natural lives is to reduce Christianity to a parody of itself, to something mediocre. Because we have diminished Christianity to something horizontal, to something that suits our material interests, we end up reducing it to a moral message and nothing more. But Christianity is not a moral system, it is grace, it is the power of God that is born from on high. It begins from the pardon of sins and mercy, and it becomes the work of mercy, the mercy of God which hopes for everything, believes in everything and excuses everything, which does not measure the evil that is has suffered. This love originates in our heavenly Father. This is the life that we must embrace. This is the life that goes beyond the life given to us by our parents. When Jesus says, “He who loves his parents more than me is not worthy of me”, this notion of worthiness is not something ethical. Rather it has to do with being fit for a purpose. A person who is limited by this earthly adherence to infantile things is simply incapable of loving God. Many with important roles in the Church are attached to these unresolved connections to childhood, to tendencies towards rivalry, mediocre aspirations and needs. They love according to earthly things rather than according to heaven.

“In the Stars the Glory of His Eyes – Tales from an Irish Tour Guide in Rome”

FROM IGNATIUS PRESS

Tales of unexpected blessings, hilarious true stories, unique perspectives on the lives of the saints. An original, entertaining and orthodox presentation of the Catholic faith. You won’t be able to put it down!

"Captivating."

— Elizabeth Lev, Professor of Art History, Rome.

“Entertaining.”

— Cardinal Seán Brady, Ireland.

"I laughed out loud many times, and told the stories to others who laughed just as hard."

— Sally Read, Author.

"Enchanting."

— Bishop Brendan Leahy, Diocese of Limerick.

"Unique and insightful."

— Archbishop Kieran O'Reilly, Cashel and Emly.