March 31^st 2019.  Fourth Sunday of Lent

GOSPEL   Luke 13, 1-9

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

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

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GOSPEL   Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

Tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to listen to Jesus,
but the Pharisees and scribes began to complain, saying,
“This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.”
So to them Jesus addressed this parable:
“A man had two sons, and the younger son said to his father,
‘Father give me the share of your estate that should come to me.’
So the father divided the property between them.
After a few days, the younger son collected all his belongings and set off to a distant country
where he squandered his inheritance on a life of dissipation.
When he had freely spent everything, a severe famine struck that country,
and he found himself in dire need. So he hired himself out to one of the local citizens
who sent him to his farm to tend the swine.
And he longed to eat his fill of the pods on which the swine fed, but nobody gave him any.
Coming to his senses he thought, ‘How many of my father’s hired workers
have more than enough food to eat, but here am I, dying from hunger.
I shall get up and go to my father and I shall say to him,
“Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you.
I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as you would treat one of your hired workers.”’ So he got up and went back to his father.
While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him, and was filled with compassion.
He ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him.
His son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you;
I no longer deserve to be called your son.’
But his father ordered his servants, ‘Quickly bring the finest robe and put it on him;
put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.
Take the fattened calf and slaughter it. Then let us celebrate with a feast,
because this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again;
he was lost, and has been found.’
Then the celebration began.
Now the older son had been out in the field and, on his way back, as he neared the house,
he heard the sound of music and dancing.
He called one of the servants and asked what this might mean.
The servant said to him, ‘Your brother has returned
and your father has slaughtered the fattened calf
because he has him back safe and sound.’
He became angry, and when he refused to enter the house,
his father came out and pleaded with him.
He said to his father in reply, ‘Look, all these years I served you
and not once did I disobey your orders;
yet you never gave me even a young goat to feast on with my friends.
But when your son returns who swallowed up your property with prostitutes,
for him you slaughter the fattened calf.’
He said to him, ‘My son, you are here with me always;
everything I have is yours. But now we must celebrate and rejoice,
because your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.’”

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

Kieran’s summary . . . The Fourth Sunday of Lent is traditionally dedicated to joy. We must keep in mind that the penitence of Lent is not a sterile perfectionism but a path to true joy. The Parable of the Prodigal Son gives us a perfect opportunity to reflect on this theme. The younger son goes in search of joy, taking the same path that is taken by so many in our society, the path of complete autonomy in search of worldly pleasure and fulfilment. But this leads to the abyss of despair, prompting the son to “re-enter into himself”. This “re-entering into himself” involves a return to the truth about himself and a rediscovery of how wonderful his father really is. We know the rest of the story. He is welcomed home by his father and a big celebration begins. Now the older brother enters the scene. He is actually a central figure in this parable for he shows us that a servile, external adherence to the Lord does not lead to joy but to bitterness. He considers himself righteous and is angry that his wayward brother should be “rewarded” for his transgressions. In this, the older brother shows that he believes that real enjoyment comes from these forbidden worldly pleasures. We see, in fact, that this older brother is as far away from his father as the younger brother was when we left home. He is not in right relationship with his father and his life is consequently lacking in real joy.

Christian penitence is not sterile perfectionism but a path to true joy. But what is the source of 

authentic joy?

Traditionally, the fourth Sunday of Lent is dedicated to joy – Laetare Sunday. The idea is to illuminate

 the Lenten journey so that we appreciate better that it is really a path to Easter rejoicing. Christian 

penitence, in fact, is not a sterile perfectionism but a path to true joy. But where does this joy come 

from? And what is it opposed to? The liturgy for Sunday presents us with the parable of the merciful 

father. It starts with a banquet in which Jesus is challenged by the Pharisees and scribes, who complain

 about the dubious moral character of the guests: "He welcomes sinners and eats with them".

 In response Jesus tells them a parable: “A man had two sons . . .” The parable is aimed at the 

scribes and Pharisees, and thus the central figure is really the last character, often 

overlooked in the comments, the only one who does not arrive at the party: the older 

brother. He is not able to enter into joy.

When he is at the point of despair, he “returns to himself”. He rediscovers the truth of who he is 

and the goodness of his father 

Our collective imaginations are usually more captivated by the intriguing story of the younger brother,

 who arrives at the feast by a complicated route, the pathway of failure. His delirium of autonomy 

leads him to look for pleasure and fun as far away as possible from his father. This is not surprising. 

There is a widespread deception in our world that one can only truly live when one is free from all 

authority; when one has become the absolute centre of one’s own existence. The sad discovery of the 

prodigal son is that these carnal pleasures produce no real joy, but only self-destruction. Once he has 

arrived at the abyss of despair, he began his salvation with a wonderful phrase - which alone would 

deserve a lot of reflection -: "Then he came back to himself ..." (translated in the English text as

 “Coming to his senses, he . . .”). To re-enter into oneself, to return to oneself, to rediscover one's 

true heart, to regain contact with one's own wisdom. This man finally starts to understand his father. 

He had gone to look for paradise in distant countries, but he discovered that his father's house was the 

most beautiful place in the world. When he comes home he will discover this even more. But he 

would not have returned home if his vision of himself and reality had not been shattered. Now, 

finally, he can be happy in his own home.

The older brother is actually more distant from his father than the younger one. He treats his

 father as a taskmaster. His obedience is servile and brings him no joy. His comments reveal 

that he really believes that joy and fulfilment come from being completely free to do whatever 

gives us pleasure. But this is the path, not to joy, but to destruction

The elder brother is actually in a much worse situation.  He has allowed himself to look upon his Father as a master, not as a father. He has taken on a servile mindset. With his slave mentality, he can't change his image of his father. "I've been serving you for so many years and I've never disobeyed your command." He thinks negatively of his father, perceiving him as a taskmaster. And because he feels that his behaviour has been right all along, he does not arrive at the moment of crisis; he does not question himself.  His contempt for his brother reveals the extent of his self-deception: the prodigal is celebrated, even though, it appears, he has returned from a life of fun! The older brother actually envies the younger brother for the pleasures that he has had, and is angry that he is then rewarded with a party! For the older brother, his idea of sin is that of forbidden pleasure. He doesn’t realize that it is actually a form of death. And then he refuses to enter the feast for his younger brother because his idea of a party is of a kid goat with a few of his friends – a miserable celebration by comparison! The Lord has much more to give us than that! Above all he has given us a lost brother to be reunited with.

March 24^th 2019.  Third Sunday of Lent

GOSPEL   Luke 13, 1-9

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

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

(Check us out on Facebook – Sunday Gospel Reflection)

GOSPEL   Luke 13, 1-9

Some people arrived and told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with that of their sacrifices. At this he said to them, ‘Do you suppose these Galileans who suffered like that were greater sinners than any other Galileans? They were not, I tell you. No; but unless you repent you will all perish as they did. Or those eighteen on whom the tower at Siloam fell and killed them? Do you suppose that they were more guilty than all the other people living in Jerusalem? They were not, I tell you. No; but unless you repent you will all perish as they did.’

He told this parable: ‘A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard, and he came looking for fruit on it but found none. He said to the man who looked after the vineyard, “Look here, for three years now I have been coming to look for fruit on this fig tree and finding none. Cut it down: why should it be taking up the ground?” “Sir,” the man replied “leave it one more year and give me time to dig round it and manure it: it may bear fruit next year; if not, then you can cut it down.”‘

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

Kieran’s summary . . . Some people approach Jesus and ask him what he thinks of the tragic news story regarding the Galileans who were killed by Pilate. In one fell swoop, Jesus addresses two mistaken attitudes of these people: firstly, it is wrong to conclude that the sinfulness of the Galileans led to their misfortune; and, secondly, it is wrong to look on tragedies such as this in a detached way without our hearts being moved. We must be converted or we will perish the same way! In today’s culture we browse news stories as if we were in a supermarket. We behave as detached observers and use these stories to titillate our curiosity. Jesus is warning us that the painful facts that these stories relate are a call to change our hearts, to remind us that the time for conversion is short. He makes this point with the parable of the fig tree. The tree is given just one more year. It must bear fruit by then or it will be cut down. Jesus is telling us that he wants to see fruit from us. We must cease acting like detached spectators in the world. The tragedies in our news stories are a call to radical conversion. Just like those victims in the news, our time is coming soon and we will be asked to give an account of ourselves. The news is not a commodity for recreation! It is a call to conversion, to truth, to fraternity, to service.

The stories we hear in the news are actually a call to conversion

This Sunday's liturgy associates the story of the burning bush with the Gospel in which Jesus is asked a question about a tragic news story. Where is the link? Moses sees a bush burning without it being consumed and thinks: "I want to see this better: why doesn't the bush burn?" The Lord then addressed to him - literally - a cry: "Do not go any farther! Take off your sandals, for the place on which you stand is holy ground!" Moses wanted to see a spectacle, but it does not work like this: God is not a spectacle and neither is that which he wishes to reveal. The Lord goes on to tell Moses of the pain of his people: "I have observed the misery of my people in Egypt and I have heard their cry of complaint against their slave drivers. I know their sufferings and I have come down to free them from the power of Egypt." God does not look dispassionately at news stories; he is not curious about gossip and news items. Instead he hears the cry of his people and begins to act.

Jesus challenges two attitudes. He tells us not to judge others in their misfortune, and not to take up the position of detached spectators

In the face of the prevailing voyeurism of our culture, where we effectively have “supermarkets” of news stories vying with each other to titillate our curiosity, let us listen to the answer that Jesus gives to those who try to involve him in such street talk. “Some people arrived and told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with that of the sacrifices”. “Well, Jesus,” these people are saying, “What do you think of the latest piece of scandalous news this week?” Jesus answers: "Do you believe that those Galileans were greater sinners for having suffered such a fate? No, I tell you, but if you are not converted, you will all perish the same way”. In one fell swoop, Jesus challenges two attitudes: that of passing judgment on others who have suffered misfortune, and that of behaving like detached spectators. The issue is not to learn news, but to allow ourselves be touched. Superficiality is incompatible with the Holy Spirit. The pain of others is not something that is irrelevant to my own existence. Every negative news story is a call on me to respond from the heart.

The parable of the infertile fig tree

All of the foregoing leads Jesus to tell the parable of the fig tree. A master comes to look for fruits on his fig tree and does not find any, so he decides that this tree is a waste of space. The man who looks after the vineyard asks for another year of patience. The owner concedes that extra year, but at that point he will expect to see fruit. What does this parable mean? The Lord is looking for fruit among our leaves. He comes to see if we are behaving like inert spectators of the world around us, or if, finally, we make that leap of conversion, if we allow our lives to be shaken and set in motion towards the good, towards love. The news is a call, an appeal to conversion, to truth, to fraternity, to service. It is not a commodity for recreation! The time available to each of us is limited. The day will come when a line will be drawn and we will see how we have lived. We must be patient with time, but we have no time to waste.

March 17^th 2019.  Second Sunday of Lent

GOSPEL   Luke 9:28B-36

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

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

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GOSPEL   Luke 9:28B-36

Jesus took Peter, John, and James
and went up the mountain to pray.
While he was praying his face changed in appearance
and his clothing became dazzling white.
And behold, two men were conversing with him, Moses and Elijah,
who appeared in glory and spoke of his exodus
that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem.
Peter and his companions had been overcome by sleep,
but becoming fully awake,
they saw his glory and the two men standing with him.
As they were about to part from him, Peter said to Jesus,
"Master, it is good that we are here;
let us make three tents, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah."
But he did not know what he was saying.
While he was still speaking,
a cloud came and cast a shadow over them,
and they became frightened when they entered the cloud.
Then from the cloud came a voice that said,
"This is my chosen Son; listen to him."
After the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone.
They fell silent and did not at that time
tell anyone what they had seen.

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

Kieran’s summary . . . This Sunday’s Gospel recounts the transfiguration of Jesus. Peter responds with the words, “Lord it is beautiful to be here”. Sometimes we think of God negatively, but when we truly know him then we discover his inexpressible beauty. But this beauty can only be seen when we have undergone a journey, when we have climbed a mountain. What mountain must we climb in order to behold the beauty of God? Ours is a culture of leisure, entertainment and self-obsession. If the disciples fell asleep during the transfiguration, then how much more are we asleep today! We are constantly distracted by our cell phones and other superficial things. Lent is a journey to the root of authentic living. We often start reluctantly, unwilling to fast, pray or abstain from vice. The most superficial part of us wants to numb us against the discomfort of reality! A thousand arguments arise to postpone fasting or - worse - turn it into a diet in preparation for the beach season. And this only leads us into an even worse form of narcissism. This superficiality of ours is an obstacle to authentic beauty. If we are to behold the beauty of God then there is a mountain that must be climbed, a cloud that must be passed through, a sleep that must be resisted, a darkness that must be bravely borne, the same darkness that all men and women of holiness have passed through. We must battle gluttony, pride and greed, because in these things lies our ugliness. The beauty of God - and our own beauty - lies beyond the mountain of fasting, prayer and almsgiving.

The face of God is beautiful, but to see it we must undertake a journey away from distraction, self-deception, laziness

The second Sunday of Lent is traditionally dedicated to the Gospel of the Transfiguration. A striking aspect of this account is Peter's reaction: "Master, it is beautiful for us to be here". Seeing the face of God is beautiful, there is no better word. Man tends to think of God very negatively, but when he really knows him, he discovers that it is wonderful to be with him. The whole of Lent - a blessed time to redirect our lives – should be guided by this illumination. But it is a beauty that is only found at the top of a mountain, and it does not show itself to us immediately: before receiving it one must undertake a journey. Among the various elements of this revelation of the authentic face of Jesus, Luke - more than the other evangelists - emphasizes the theme of the disciples' sleep. Beholding the secret reality of Jesus implies a struggle against unconsciousness, against distraction, against repression. Ours is an age of self-obsession and leisure, of self-deception, of not thinking, of evading the truth. In a recent audience Pope Francis said that man is slipping towards "an existence anesthetized by entertainment that is not genuine rest, but alienation and escape from reality". Thinking is tiresome, so we think that it is better to avoid it.

The disciples fall asleep. We tend to fall asleep too, to distract ourselves, to repress the truth
In fact, the apostles fall into sleep at the very moment that an important event unfolds: "Moses and Elijah appeared in glory, and spoke of his parting, which was about to take place in Jerusalem". The topic is an uncomfortable subject for the disciples: the discussion of what will happen at Easter, that is, of the Passion of Jesus, which He had announced just before going up the mountain, and which he will remind them of again a second time when they back down again. Lent is an austere and serious time, just like the discussion between Jesus, Moses and Elijah. These serious moments make you want not to listen, to chat instead on your cell phone, to yawn, to be distracted. "To be or not to be?…. To sleep, perhaps to dream," said Hamlet.

Lent is a time to go to the root of things. This requires engaging in combat against gluttony, pride and greed. If we are to behold the beauty of God, then we must climb this mountain, pass through this cloud, awaken from this slumber.

Lent is a time to go to the root of things, and sometimes we begin reluctantly, without any inclination to fast, to intensify prayer, to go deeper into combat with vice in the service of love. The most superficial part of us wants to numb us against the discomfort of reality. A thousand arguments arise to postpone fasting or - perhaps worse - turn it into a diet in preparation for the beach season. And this only leads us into an even worse form of narcissism. Here is our obstacle to authentic beauty: our superficiality, our willingness to make do with a lesser form of existence. If we are to behold the beauty of God then there is a cloud that must be passed through, a sleep that must be resisted, a darkness that must be bravely borne, the same darkness that all men and women of holiness have passed through. The beautiful and the difficult are not incompatible, far from it. But how can we claim to be that Church that manifests God's secret to the world if we continue to skate on the surface of life? We must battle gluttony, pride and greed, because in these things lies our ugliness. The beauty of God, and ours, lies beyond the mountain of fasting, prayer and almsgiving.

March 10^th 2019.  First Sunday of Lent

GOSPEL Luke 4:1-13

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

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

(Check us out on Facebook – Sunday Gospel Reflection)

GOSPEL Luke 4:1-13

Filled with the Holy Spirit, Jesus left the Jordan and was led by the Spirit through the wilderness, being tempted there by the devil for forty days. During that time he ate nothing and at the end he was hungry. Then the devil said to him, ‘If you are the Son of God, tell this stone to turn into a loaf.’ But Jesus replied, ‘Scripture says: Man does not live on bread alone.’

Then leading him to a height, the devil showed him in a moment of time all the kingdoms of the world and said to him, ‘I will give you all this power and the glory of these kingdoms, for it has been committed to me and I give it to anyone I choose. Worship me, then, and it shall all be yours.’ But Jesus answered him, ‘Scripture says: You must worship the Lord your God, and serve him alone.’

Then he led him to Jerusalem and made him stand on the parapet of the Temple. ‘If you are the Son of God,’ he said to him ‘throw yourself down from here, for scripture says: “He will put his angels in charge of you to guard you,” and again, “They will hold you up on their hands in case you hurt your foot against a stone.” '

But Jesus answered him, ‘It has been said: You must not put the Lord your God to the test.’ Having exhausted all these ways of tempting him, the devil left him, to return at the appointed time.

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

Kieran’s summary . . . The people of Israel were purified for forty years in the desert before entering the Promised Land. And when they did enter, as the first reading on Sunday states, Moses declared that they must always keep their priorities in order, offering the best of themselves continually to God. Lent too is a journey of purification, a journey out of ourselves, away from our egos. The temptations of Jesus described in the Gospel story are temptations to go in the opposite direction, temptations to use things, people, and even God himself in service of our own ego. The first temptation is to turn stone into bread. How often we try to misuse things so that they satisfy our appetites! We don’t care what the real value or the real identity of a thing is so long as it can be used to satisfy me. The second temptation is to acquire power and authority in earthly terms. We wish to control people and structures so that they serve my wishes. The third temptation is to use God to further my own projects and wishes. I don’t seek to follow the will of God. I “pray” and cajole and make bargains that he will aid me in promoting my interests. All of these temptations are filled with deceit. They promise everything and give us nothing. For if we use things for our own ends and do not appreciate their real value, then we not only lose those things, we also lose ourselves. If I go after power and authority in the service of my own ego, then I am really an abject slave to something else. My power and freedom are completely illusory. My real master is Satan. And if I try to use God to further my own interests, then God will be unable to save me. Salvation involves abandonment to the will of God. A God who obeys me is not a God that can save me.

Like the Israelite’s journey in the desert, Lent is a journey in which we move out of our own egos.

The first Sunday of Lent is always dedicated to the account of the temptations of Jesus in the desert, but the first reading from Deuteronomy gives us an important key by which to interpret the journey of Lent on which we are about to embark. In this first reading, we are told of an act that the Israelites must undertake before they can enjoy the land that has been promised to them. The Israelites have been liberated from Egypt and have undergone a journey in the desert before entering the land of Canaan. Now they are asked to take the best of everything that they possess and offer it up, to place it in the hands of the Lord and say, “It is yours!” Like the journey of the Israelites, we are undertaking an austere journey, the journey of Lent, a beautiful and significant passage out of our own egos. This is the real journey that we are on. Fasting, prayer and almsgiving are all instruments that serve to bring us out of ourselves. In the book of Deuteronomy, the Israelites offer the first-fruits because they see the paternity of God in the fact that they have been led into this land of milk and honey. This is what the Israelites are really saying: “I see you Lord; I see your providence in all things”.

The temptations of Satan are a journey in the opposite direction: a journey away from the true meaning of things and God, and into my own dark ego.

And of course the temptation of humanity is to do exactly the opposite! The temptations of Jesus recounted in the Gospel underscore this point. I want to take the stones and turn them into bread, to instrumentalize things so that they satisfy my appetites; to see the world as something that exists to serve my wish for power and affirmation; to consider God as someone whose job it is to facilitate mywhims - if I throw myself from the pinnacle of the Temple, he ought to save me. These temptations represent a journey in the opposite sense – a journey from things and God towards the ego, instead of vice-versa. This Gospel is filled with unfathomable meaning, but there is no doubt that it speaks of the way that things that are good in themselves can be utterly corrupted.

Satan tempts us to think that objects exist to satisfy my desires, that power should be usurped to give me control over everything, and that God should be used to bring my projects to fruition.

If we have a hunger, according to Satan’s suggestion, then we should order that things change their identity in order to satisfy that hunger. Things ought to exist in function of my appetite. The fact that this thing is a stone is of no interest to me. All I care about is that it should become bread for me. We desire to transform things, to make them into something else so that they can be useful for us. In the second temptation, Satan encourages us to strive so that the kingdoms of the earth become our possession. The powers and authority of this world are to be usurped so that they can be at my service. I must be the master of my destiny so that all things can contribute towards my good. In the third temptation, the pinnacle of the Temple represents religion in its highest form. Satan suggests that God must obey my caprices. If he is really my father, then, like a spoiled child, I should be able to do what I want and he must comply with my initiatives. If I have had this bright idea, or this ambitious project, the Lord must assist me in bringing it to fruition.

What is the problem with all of these temptations? All of their promises are deceptive. Things lose their true value if I use them for my own ends. Power in the service of my ego involves being a slave to something else. Using God to further my own ambitions means losing God completely. A puppet God that obeys me cannot save me!

None of these suggestions or initiatives of Satan lead to anything genuine or worthwhile. Man does not live by bread alone. We are more than our appetites. Even if I were to turn the stones into bread, bread would not be able to bring me true life. What I need is to have an unbroken relationship with God. If things do not have their proper sense and nobility, then it is of little use that they bring me satisfaction. By making things objects of my desire, I not only lose the true value of those things, I also lose myself. In the second temptation, Satan promises great power, but it is interesting that to obtain this power one has to first prostrate oneself before evil. You think you have power but you are really the slave of something else. The authority and the sway that you believe you possess have really been robbed from somewhere else. Satan says, “Go on higher!” but it is a trap in which you really sink down further. Power involves making a lot of compromises. Any power that is exercised in function of one’s ego is in reality a trap. And in the third temptation, the fact of trying to utilize God for my own benefit causes us to lose God himself. When God is placed under me, he is no longer God. A God that obeys me can no longer save me! While I put God to the test, he cannot redeem me. These are the snares of the human condition - things, relationships, ideas. All of them can become our masters. Deceiving us into thinking that they are giving us more, they are really impoverishing us, sending us into the emptiness of our own solitude.

March 3^rd 2019.  Eighth Sunday of Ordinary Time

GOSPEL   Luke 6:39-45

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

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

(Check us out on Facebook – Sunday Gospel Reflection)

GOSPEL   Luke 6:39-45

Jesus told his disciples a parable,
"Can a blind person guide a blind person?
Will not both fall into a pit?
No disciple is superior to the teacher;
but when fully trained,
every disciple will be like his teacher.
Why do you notice the splinter in your brother's eye,
but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own?
How can you say to your brother,
'Brother, let me remove that splinter in your eye,'
when you do not even notice the wooden beam in your own eye?
You hypocrite!  Remove the wooden beam from your eye first;
then you will see clearly
to remove the splinter in your brother's eye.
"A good tree does not bear rotten fruit,
nor does a rotten tree bear good fruit.
For every tree is known by its own fruit.
For people do not pick figs from thorn bushes,
nor do they gather grapes from brambles.
A good person out of the store of goodness in his heart produces good,
but an evil person out of a store of evil produces evil;
for from the fullness of the heart the mouth speaks."

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

Kieran’s summary . . . In the Gospel, Jesus speaks of the blind man who has a beam in his own eye but is fixated with pointing out the splinter in his brother’s eye. The attitude of placing oneself as a disciplinarian over others is one that we all have at various times. Sometimes we think we need to give others a moral lecture in order to straighten up the world. But Jesus saved the world, not by giving lectures, but by giving his life for us! We too ought to be ready to die for a person before we launch into a lecture of a moral sort. Only love in action gives us the right to speak with love. For Christians, love and truth coincide. Truth spoken without love is prone to being contaminated by elements that have no truth in them. This Gospel passage also speaks of the fruits of our works. The question I must ask is what fruit do I produce? The people around me will be able to answer better than I can! When they approach me, do I produce a harvest of love and mercy? Or do I produce moralisms, hardness of heart, relational bureaucracy? If we are honest with ourselves, then we will be aware that we produce much fruit that is rotten. Let us stop pretending to be the teachers of others. Let us place ourselves before life and the Lord as children willing to learn, disciples willing to follow the Lord Jesus.

Jesus speaks of the blind man with a beam in his own eye who places himself above others and points out the splinters in their eyes

In this seventh Sunday of Ordinary Time, the first reading from Sirach speaks of how the truth about a person manifests itself: in times of tribulation and in the way he speaks, a man reveals what is inside of him. The reading ends thus: “Do not praise a man before he speaks, because this is the test of a man”. The last lines of the Gospel passage are similar: “The lips express what flows out of the heart”. What exactly is the point here? Why do the texts underline the relation between what is inside a man and what comes out in his attempts at communication? And how do these phrases tie in with the first line of Sunday’s Gospel: “Can a blind person lead another who is blind? Will they not both fall into the pit?” This example seems almost comical. Who is the blind person that Jesus is referring to? Later on Jesus keeps with the theme of vision when he asks, “Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye but do not perceive the beam in your own?” This image is of course exaggerated, but to have a beam in your eye whilst focusing on the splinter in another’s is to be blind. Here I am trying to correct a small defect in your eye, whilst my eye is completely dysfunctional. This is the attitude of placing oneself as a teacher or disciplinarian over others, an attitude that is very diffuse among Christians, among Catholics. We make ourselves the teachers of those around us, with our fingers raised, telling them how they should live or not live. Such an acidic form of Christianity was widespread in the past and has not gone altogether away. This attitude often involves judgmentalism and a poor knowledge of those whom I am actually lecturing to. It is the attitude of one who believes he has something to teach. It is this attitude that renders him blind.

At times we all think we have the duty to straighten up the world by giving moralising lectures to others. But Jesus saved the world by giving himself for us

We can read this passage in parallel with a completely different passage from chapter 9 of John’s Gospel. The man born blind is healed by Jesus and speaks before the religious leaders in the synagogue. Jesus says, “I have come into the world so that those who are blind may receive their sight”. The religious leaders interrupt him; “Are you saying that we are blind then?” Jesus replies, “If you were blind you would have no fault, but because you claim to see, your sin remains”. Here we are presented with the image of one who pretends to be the great teacher of others, who claims to see clearly, a moraliser who straightens up the world. This is someone that all of us have inside, to some degree or other. At times we all think we have the duty to better the world by straightening up the lives of others. But the Lord Jesus sacrificed his life for the world. And we too, prior to giving moralising lectures to another, ought to be ready to give our lives for that person. Only love gives us the right to speak with love. How is it possible to speak the truth without love? For us Christians, love and truth coincide. A truth without love is a deception. Truth spoken without love is open to destructive tendencies that have nothing of truth in them.

What harvest do I produce? Do people receive love and welcome from me? Or do they receive hardness of hard, relational bureaucracy?

In a manner that is almost repetitive, the Gospel goes on, “Hypocrite, remove the beam from your own eye first, then you will see clearly. In other words, sort out your own weaknesses first before you start measuring with a callipers the weaknesses of others, Jesus then says, “A good tree does not produce bad fruit, and a bad tree does not produce good”. Later, he says, “You cannot produce figs from thorn bushes, nor grapes from brambles”. This mention of figs and grapes is interesting, for it is the typical fruit of the Promised Land, whilst thorns and brambles are mentioned in Genesis 3 as being the fruit of sin. This leads to the question: if someone comes to us, what harvest do they receive? Do they receive mercy? Love? Welcome? Do they find figs and olives? Or do they find thorns, brambles, moralisms, hardness of heart, relational bureaucracy? What harvest do I produce? This is the question that must be asked. I cannot answer the question myself. It must be answered by those around me. If we are honest with ourselves, then we will be aware that we produce much fruit that is rotten. There is a phrase at the start of the Gospel that is very important: “No disciples is superior to his teacher, but when he is well trained he will be like his teacher”. Our life is a life of following Jesus. It is a life of discipleship and involves always learning more. Those who consider that they have something to teach others are generally unpleasant and destructive. A person who is aware that they have much to learn is able to speak in a more constructive, beautiful and useful way. Let us place ourselves before life as someone who has much to learn! Let us be aware of the rotten fruit that we have produced up to now and perhaps are still producing. Let us treat others as people to be welcomed, not corrected. We are disciples, not teachers. Life is a journey of discovery and how much we have yet to learn!