19th Sunday B August 11, 2024

19 th Sunday B

August 11, 2024

Today I find myself thinking about Raymond’s mom.  In the series Everyone Loves Raymond , whenever someone comes into his mom’s house, she says, “Are you hungry dear?”  Even if you answer no, she says, “I’ll make you a plate.”

 

When the prophet Elijah was down God sent him an angel to feed him.  Elijah has good reason to be down.  He just defeated the priests of Baal and now Queen Jezebel wants him dead.

The angel of the Lord knew enough to feed Elijah.  He will do better on a full stomach.  Just like Raymond’s mom.  He needed to be given food.  After Elijah ate, he could get up and go climb a mountain where he heard the voice of God speaking to him in a still small voice.

When I get down. I find myself looking for something to eat or someone to offer me a cup of coffee.  In time I feel better, and I go to face what ever challenge God has placed before me.  The one who feeds me or sits with me as I eat and drink, is like the angel who cared for Elijah.  After a time I feel better and I can get up and face what I need to face.

 

The angels in my life bring me “Powder Milk Biscuits” (the long-time sponsor of A Prairie Home Companion ).  “Powder Milk Biscuits give shy people the courage to do what needs to be done.”

How often do I meet people over lunch or coffee, and we seem to accomplish what we need to accomplish.  When I feel at the end of my rope, that is when I am reminded that I am not in charge, God is in charge.  When God asks me to do one more thing, God provides me the help I need.

 

Elijah is in the desert when God sends him an angel to minster to him.  We have all have desert moments in our lives.  We may consider who are the angels who God sends us to help us out.  We may want to look for the angels; they may not be readily apparent to us.  When we are in the desert it may be hard to see who an angel to us.   We may wait and be frozen.

I am reminded of the play Waiting for Godot.  After waiting in vain for Godot, the two hobos decide to go.  One says to the other, “Let us go."  The stage direction says they do not move.  We can be the same, we can give up and become frozen.  It is good that Elijah didn’t get frozen, for if he was, he would have missed God’s voice in the still small whisper.

When we are in a desert place, we are in danger of losing Hope.  Hope can come in the person who brings us food.  A letter from a friend.  A song that lifts our spirits.  Hope comes when we ask God to be in charge and we step aside to listen for the still small voice.

So often the ministering angel is the one who sits down and shares a drink or a meal with us. 

Today’s Psalm number 34 speaks of the goodness of our God, “Taste and see the goodness of God.”

When life seems hard, we look for and seek the goodness of our God.  We taste and see how good our God is.  We find hope as we taste and see the goodness of our God.

We will all hit bumps in the road, we will all have desert days, but that is not the end of the story.  We pause; we eat and drink and go forward to find hope in the words of our God.  We, like Elijah, listen for the still small voice of our God and we go forward to taste and see the goodness of the Lord.

By Fr. Chris Welch May 12, 2025
The body content of your post goes here. To edit this text, click on it and delete this default text and start typing your own or paste your own from a different source.
By Deacon Paul Cerosaletti April 27, 2025
How many of you recall the following hymn refrain? Misericordes sicut Pater Misericordes sicut Pater… It is the refrain from the hymn of the same title that was composed for the Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy, which Pope Francis opened in the first week of Advent in 2015 and concluded with the feast of Christ the King on November 20, 2016. You may recall that throughout that Jubilee Year, we opened our Masses with that hymn and sang that refrain. Misericordes sicut Pater… …Merciful like the Father …Merciful like the Father. How appropriate that on this Sunday, the second Sunday of Easter, Divine Mercy Sunday, is also the weekend in which we have laid our Holy Father Pope Francis to rest, and entrusted him to the tender, eternal mercy of God the Father. It was no coincidence that Pope Francis declared the Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy. Pope Francis believed Mercy is the primary expression and experience of God’s love for us, and Mercy is the primary expression and experience of the love that God calls us to share with each other. So important was his belief and trust in God’s Mercy, that when he was ordained to the order of Bishop, he took as his episcopal motto “ miserando atque eligendo ” ( which roughly translates from Latin as “having mercy, he chose him”). It is taken from a homily written by St. Bede the Venerable, an eighth-century saint and Doctor of the Church, reflecting on the call of St. Matthew by Christ to become an apostle. St. Bede wrote, “[Jesus] saw the tax collector [Matthew] and, because he saw him through the eyes of mercy and chose him, he said to him: Follow me .” So important was his belief and trust in God’s Mercy, that when Francis was elected as Pope, he kept this episcopal motto as his papal motto. This motto expresses so simply and beautifully truths of our faith: God loves us deeply; God expresses that love to us through His mercy for us in our sinfulness; and that despite our sinfulness, God calls us . God calls us to trust and hope in God’s love for us and calls us to express the same love and mercy for one another. That call is reflected also in the Gospel account of Matthew’s call to discipleship by Jesus, which concludes with Jesus challenging the Pharisees, saying “Go and learn the meaning of the words, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice'” (Mt. 9:13). Jesus challenges us in the same way. He calls the Pharisees – and us – out of ritual acts of worship and piety that are not also accompanied by acts of mercy! Jesus is clear about this. In the Gospel according to Luke, Jesus says, “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful” (Lk. 6:36). In his Papal Bull announcing the Extraordinary Year of Mercy, Pope Francis describes God the Father’s mercy for us as like “that of a father or a mother, moved to the very depths out of love for their child…a “visceral” love…gush[ing] forth from the depths naturally, full of tenderness and compassion, indulgence and mercy” (Misericordiae Vultus, no. 6). He also describes God’s Divine Mercy as a ”wellspring of joy, serenity, and peace.” (MV 2). These words bring to mind the visceral atoning sacrifice of Christ on the cross for our sins, when blood and water sprung forth from Christ’s side as the cleansing waters of baptism. It is that visceral sacrifice which we recall in the Divine Mercy chaplet when we pray, “O Blood and Water which gushed forth from the Heart of Jesus as a fount of mercy for us, I trust in You!” It is that cleansing sacrifice that we recall when we pray in the Anima Christi prayer, “Water from the side of Christ, wash me.” And it is that same merciful cleansing in which we hope and trust, as we place all that burdens us into the waters of God’s grace, as we have done here, symbolically, in placing our Lenten stone-burdens in this fountain of Holy Water from the Easter Vigil Baptismal pool. As we contemplate God’s Divine Mercy, we place our trust and our hope in that Divine Mercy, recalling the words our late Holy Father Pope Francis left us with: “Mercy will always be greater than any sin, and no one can place limits on the love of God who is ever ready to forgive” (MV 3); “Mercy [is] the bridge that connects God and man, opening our hearts to the hope of being loved forever” (MV 2). Misericordes sicut Pater Misericordes sicut Pater…
By Deacon Paul Cerosaletti April 13, 2025
I have long thought that the Church gives us the two Gospel passages we hear today — the account of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem and the account of his Passion and death — for very practical reasons: this is the last Sunday before Easter when we will celebrate Christ’s Resurrection and not everyone is able to attend and celebrate the Triduum liturgies during Holy Week. Therefore, the Church places these two critical Gospel passages together so that we hear and experience them in a regular Sunday Mass setting — literally, to ‘fit them in’ before Easter. But there is another equally, if not more, important reason we are to experience these Gospel passages together. And I honestly don’t know if the Church intends this reason or not, but I believe the Holy Spirit intends it. These two Gospel passages remind us as much as any passage that Jesus Christ, while fully Divine, is also fully human. He is like us in all manner except one, in committing sin. He therefore shares with us the experience of the full range of our humanity. In these two Gospel passages we experience Christ moving from triumph to tragedy, from soaring to suffering: the triumphant, soaring entry into Jerusalem and the suffering and tragedy of His Passion and crucifixion. Christ’s human experience is also our human experience, for do not we all experience triumph and tragedy, soaring and suffering? Therefore, we do not have a God and Savior who cannot sympathize with our human experience, but rather one who shares it with us! And we have a God and Savior who not only soared and suffered for us, but soars and suffers with us. Not just two thousand years ago, but right here, right now, in every minute of our lives. For what did Jesus promise? “I am with you always , until the end of time.” (Mt 28:20) When we soar and triumph, Jesus is with us, by our side. And when we suffer and experience tragedy, especially, Jesus is with us, by our side. We are encouraged to give thanks to God in our triumphs and soaring. And we are invited to unite our suffering with Christ’s suffering and offer it up for whatever or whomever is in need. Christ’s suffering was not pointless, and united to His, neither is ours. We offer it up, trust, and hope. Sisters and brothers, that hope comes from our knowledge of the rest of the Gospel story that we will experience with Christ: that His triumph and tragedy, His soaring and suffering does not end in death, but in the glory of Easter Resurrection.