31 March 2020

“When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am He”

God’s plan of salvation unfolds over the centuries, with the New Testament fulfilling the prophesies of the Old! The readings today provide one such example of this.

In the first reading, the Israelites were plagued by poisonous serpents. The poison of the serpents was also symbolic of the ungodly religious practices of neighbouring cultures that had spread among the Israelites. The Lord’s instruction to Moses to raise a bronze serpent on a standard, so that the people who look upon it may be saved was also symbolic. The dead serpent was a sign of the victory of good over sin and evil. So when the Israelites looked at it, they were expressing their desire to turn away from evil and renew their relationship with God.

In the Gospel Our Lord invites us to look at him in anticipation while redeeming us from the Cross: «Our High Priest is Christ Jesus, his precious body is our sacrifice that He immolated on the altar of the Cross for the salvation of all people» (Saint John Fisher).

«When you have lifted up the Son of Man» (Jn 8:28). The Crucified Christ, indeed,—“lifted up” Christ!— is the great and definite sign of the Father’s love towards the fallen Humankind. His open arms, stretched out between Heaven and Earth, outline the indelible sign of His friendship with us, men. By seeing Him like this, lifted up before our sinful glance, we shall realize that He is (cf. Jn 8:28), and then, as those Jews that were listening to him, we shall also believe in Him.

Only the friendship of He, who is fully acquainted with the Cross, may provide us with the needed connaturality to get us into the Redemptor’s heart. Pretending the Gospel without the Cross, bare of any Christian sense of mortification, or infected by the pagan and naturalist ambiance which unables us to understand the redeeming suffering values, would place us in the terrible conjuncture of having to hear from Christ’s lips: —After all, why should I go on speaking to you?

That our serene and contemplative look of the Cross, be a question to the Crucified, whereby, wordless and noiseless, we tell him: «Who are you?» (Jn 8:25). And He will answer that He is «the way, the truth, and the life» (Jn 14:6), the Stock, which we, poor vine shoots, if not united to, will not be able to bear any fruit, because only him has words of eternal life. And thus, if we do not believe that He is, we shall die by our sins. However, we shall live, despite everything, and we shall already live in this world a Heavenly life, if we take from Him the joyous certitude that the Father is with us, that He will never leave us alone. Thus, we shall imitate the Son by doing always that which pleases the Father.

30th March 2020

Woman you are set free.

“Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” (John 8: 7).

The sacred texts present us with the story of two women. One is Susanna, beautiful and wife of a very wealthy man. The other is a simple woman caught in the act of adultery. Both women were accused of adultery, a sin punishable by death in those days and still so in Moslem countries.

Susanna was spared because Daniel uses his intelligence in the service of truth and justice. We have a legal system in place that is meant to uphold what is right; yet as is often the case people use their intelligence to subvert the system and find loopholes. If not for the timely intervention of Daniel, Susanna would have been condemned by the elders on the basis of the evidence that was presented. All those who testify may not be testifying to the truth.

There are a number of lessons in the two narratives.

1 Satan is the Father of lies and Revelation calls him the Accuser of the brethren. Do you know anyone who delights in pointing fingers and quick to accuse? Unjust accusations against Jesus and Stephen led to their deaths.

2 Corruption of power. Susanna was accused by two elderly judges whose advances she spurned. The woman caught in adultery were accused by those who caught her and judges who wanted her dead. Judges and lawyers face continuous temptations to bribery and corruption, which are still rampant everywhere.

3 The stories ended well in the marvelous timely Divine Interventions. God used Daniel in the case Susanna and Jesus the Divine Mercy in the case of the woman caught in the act of adultery.

What do we take away from the two stories? “The whole assembly cried aloud, blessing God who saves those who hope in him.” (Daniel 13: 60). The reaction of the people shows that they understood that a miracle happened. They glorified God and their faith became strengthened. This is also the takeaway for us because every Bible narrative is there to build up our faith in a loving and merciful God.

29th March 2020
Fr. Bassols Imo Donald, STB., STL
Fifth Sunday of Lent

Christ pulls down the wall of death

Our God is a God of life; and He desires to help us break free from whatever is keeping us shackled and entombed.

The prophet Ezekiel, in today’s first reading, brings hope to the exiled Israelites, as he explains his vision to them. He assures these chosen people that though were reduced to dried bones in Babylon, God’s life-giving Spirit would restore them to once more enjoy peace and prosperity in their own country. This message finds an echo in the second reading, where Paul reminds us that though our body may be dead, because of sin, God who raised Jesus, will also give life to our mortal bodies through His Spirit. And today’s Gospel is a foreshadowing of this life-giving promise of God, seen in the raising of Lazarus to life.

In the Gospel, we listen to the “voice of faith” from the lips of Martha, Lazarus’ sister. Jesus repeats: “I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live”. This is the true newness which abounds and exceeds every border! Christ pulls down the wall of death and in him dwells all the fullness of God, who is life, eternal life. Therefore death did not have power over him and the raising of Lazarus is a sign of his full dominion over physical death which, before God, resembles sleep.

However there is another death, which cost Christ the hardest struggle, even the price of the Cross: it is spiritual death and sin which threaten to ruin the existence of every human being.

—To overcome this death, Christ died and his Resurrection is not a return to past life, but an opening to a new reality, a “new land” united at last with God’s Heaven.

Jesus continually offers each of us the fullness of life. But if we do not shed the cloak of the sins that bind and tie us down; and roll away the stone that barricades us from coming into the light, we will continue to live in the tomb.

Remain strong, take courage, have faith, trust and in the Lord..Blessings

Saturday 28th March 2020 of the 4th week of Lent.

“No one ever spoke like this man”

Today, the Gospel presents the different reactions which the words of our Lord produced. John’s text does not offer us any word from the Master, but it does mention the consequences of what He said. Some thought He was a prophet; others said «This is the Christ» (Jn 7:41).

Jesus Christ is truly a “sign that will be contradicted” as Simon had told Mary (cf. Lk 2:34). Those who listened to Jesus’ words did not remain indifferent to them, to the point that, on this occasion, as in many others, «the crowd was divided over Him» (Jn 7:43). The reply of the officers who wanted to arrest the Lord centers the question and shows us the power of Christ’s words: «No one ever spoke like this man» (Jn 7:46). It is like saying: His words are different; they are not empty boastful words, full of arrogance and falseness. He is “the Truth” and his way of speaking reflects this reality.

And if this happened amid his audience, his deeds provoked even more amazement and admiration; but also, criticism, gossip, hate… Jesus Christ spoke “the language of charity”: his deeds and his words showed the deep love He felt towards all men, especially those more in need of assistance.

Today as then, we Christians are —must be— “a sign of contradiction”, because we do not speak and behave like others do. By imitating and following Jesus Christ, we likewise must use “the language of charity and love”, a necessary language that, in fact, we can all understand. As the Holy Father, our Pope Benedict XVI, wrote in his encyclical Deus caritas est, «Love —caritas— will always prove necessary, even in the most just society (…). Whoever wants to eliminate love is preparing to eliminate man as such».

Full text from Pope Francis’ homily for the special ‘Urbi et Orbi’ blessing

“Teacher, do you not care if we perish?”

In his homily during the worldwide moment of prayer that Pope Francis led this evening, he reflected on how Coronavirus has united us in our common humanity, as brothers and sisters.

“We have realized that we are on the same boat, all of us fragile and disoriented, but at the same time important and needed, all of us called to row together,” he said.

He used the image of the disciples on the boat, caught by an unexpected storm, and Jesus asleep in the stern. When they call on the Lord, the disciples prove their faith, and yet Jesus rebukes them for their lack of faith.

Let us try to understand. In what does the lack of the disciples’ faith consist, as contrasted with Jesus’ trust? They had not stopped believing in him; in fact, they called on him. But we see how they call on him: “Teacher, do you not care if we perish?” (v. 38). Do you not care: they think that Jesus is not interested in them, does not care about them.
But “he, more than anyone, cares about us,” Pope Francis assured.

The pope said that God is calling us to faith, “which is not so much believing that you exist, but coming to you and trusting in you.”

And he said that this time of trial is a “time of choosing.”

It is not the time of your judgement, but of our judgement: a time to choose what matters and what passes away, a time to separate what is necessary from what is not. It is a time to get our lives back on track with regard to you, Lord, and to others.

Read the whole homily below:

“When evening had come” (Mk 4:35). The Gospel passage we have just heard begins like this. For weeks now it has been evening. Thick darkness has gathered over our squares, our streets and our cities; it has taken over our lives, filling everything with a deafening silence and a distressing void, that stops everything as it passes by; we feel it in the air, we notice in people’s gestures, their glances give them away. We find ourselves afraid and lost.

Like the disciples in the Gospel we were caught off guard by an unexpected, turbulent storm. We have realized that we are on the same boat, all of us fragile and disoriented, but at the same time important and needed, all of us called to row together, each of us in need of comforting the other. On this boat… are all of us. Just like those disciples, who spoke anxiously with one voice, saying “We are perishing” (v. 38), so we too have realized that we cannot go on thinking of ourselves, but only together can we do this.

On this boat… are all of us.
It is easy to recognize ourselves in this story. What is harder to understand is Jesus’ attitude. While his disciples are quite naturally alarmed and desperate, he stands in the stern, in the part of the boat that sinks first. And what does he do? In spite of the tempest, he sleeps on soundly, trusting in the Father; this is the only time in the Gospels we see Jesus sleeping. When he wakes up, after calming the wind and the waters, he turns to the disciples in a reproaching voice: “Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” (v. 40).

Let us try to understand. In what does the lack of the disciples’ faith consist, as contrasted with Jesus’ trust? They had not stopped believing in him; in fact, they called on him. But we see how they call on him: “Teacher, do you not care if we perish?” (v. 38). Do you not care: they think that Jesus is not interested in them, does not care about them. One of the things that hurts us and our families most when we hear it said is: “Do you not care about me?” It is a phrase that wounds and unleashes storms in our hearts. It would have shaken Jesus too. Because he, more than anyone, cares about us. Indeed, once they have called on him, he saves his disciples from their discouragement.

The storm exposes our vulnerability and uncovers those false and superfluous certainties around which we have constructed our daily schedules, our projects, our habits and priorities. It shows us how we have allowed to become dull and feeble the very things that nourish, sustain and strengthen our lives and our communities. The tempest lays bare all our prepackaged ideas and forgetfulness of what nourishes our people’s souls; all those attempts that anesthetize us with ways of thinking and acting that supposedly “save” us, but instead prove incapable of putting us in touch with our roots and keeping alive the memory of those who have gone before us. We deprive ourselves of the antibodies we need to confront adversity.

In this storm, the façade of those stereotypes with which we camouflaged our egos, always worrying about our image, has fallen away, uncovering once more that (blessed) common belonging, of which we cannot be deprived: our belonging as brothers and sisters.

“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” Lord, your word this evening strikes us and regards us, all of us. In this world, that you love more than we do, we have gone ahead at breakneck speed, feeling powerful and able to do anything. Greedy for profit, we let ourselves get caught up in things, and lured away by haste. We did not stop at your reproach to us, we were not shaken awake by wars or injustice across the world, nor did we listen to the cry of the poor or of our ailing planet. We carried on regardless, thinking we would stay healthy in a world that was sick. Now that we are in a stormy sea, we implore you: “Wake up, Lord!”.

Lord, you are calling to us, calling us to faith
“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” Lord, you are calling to us, calling us to faith. Which is not so much believing that you exist, but coming to you and trusting in you. This Lent your call reverberates urgently: “Be converted!”, “Return to me with all your heart” (Joel 2:12). You are calling on us to seize this time of trial as a time of choosing. It is not the time of your judgement, but of our judgement: a time to choose what matters and what passes away, a time to separate what is necessary from what is not. It is a time to get our lives back on track with regard to you, Lord, and to others.

We can look to so many exemplary companions for the journey, who, even though fearful, have reacted by giving their lives. This is the force of the Spirit poured out and fashioned in courageous and generous self-denial. It is the life in the Spirit that can redeem, value and demonstrate how our lives are woven together and sustained by ordinary people – often forgotten people – who do not appear in newspaper and magazine headlines nor on the grand catwalks of the latest show, but who without any doubt are in these very days writing the decisive events of our time: doctors, nurses, supermarket employees, cleaners, caregivers, providers of transport, law and order forces, volunteers, priests, religious men and women and so very many others who have understood that no one reaches salvation by themselves.

In the face of so much suffering, where the authentic development of our peoples is assessed, we experience the priestly prayer of Jesus: “That they may all be one” (Jn 17:21). How many people every day are exercising patience and offering hope, taking care to sow not panic but a shared responsibility. How many fathers, mothers, grandparents and teachers are showing our children, in small everyday gestures, how to face up to and navigate a crisis by adjusting their routines, lifting their gaze and fostering prayer. How many are praying, offering and interceding for the good of all. Prayer and quiet service: these are our victorious weapons.

Prayer and quiet service: these are our victorious weapons.
“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith”? Faith begins when we realise we are in need of salvation. We are not self-sufficient; by ourselves we flounder: we need the Lord, like ancient navigators needed the stars. Let us invite Jesus into the boats of our lives. Let us hand over our fears to him so that he can conquer them. Like the disciples, we will experience that with him on board there will be no shipwreck. Because this is God’s strength: turning to the good everything that happens to us, even the bad things. He brings serenity into our storms, because with God life never dies.

The Lord asks us and, in the midst of our tempest, invites us to reawaken and put into practice that solidarity and hope capable of giving strength, support and meaning to these hours when everything seems to be floundering. The Lord awakens so as to reawaken and revive our Easter faith.

We have an anchor: by his cross we have been saved. We have a rudder: by his cross we have been redeemed. We have a hope: by his cross we have been healed and embraced so that nothing and no one can separate us from his redeeming love. In the midst of isolation when we are suffering from a lack of tenderness and chances to meet up, and we experience the loss of so many things, let us once again listen to the proclamation that saves us: he is risen and is living by our side.

The Lord asks us from his cross to rediscover the life that awaits us, to look towards those who look to us, to strengthen, recognize and foster the grace that lives within us. Let us not quench the wavering flame (cf. Is 42:3) that never falters, and let us allow hope to be rekindled.

We have an anchor… We have a rudder… We have a hope
Embracing his cross means finding the courage to embrace all the hardships of the present time, abandoning for a moment our eagerness for power and possessions in order to make room for the creativity that only the Spirit is capable of inspiring. It means finding the courage to create spaces where everyone can recognize that they are called, and to allow new forms of hospitality, fraternity and solidarity.

By his cross we have been saved in order to embrace hope and let it strengthen and sustain all measures and all possible avenues for helping us protect ourselves and others. Embracing the Lord in order to embrace hope: that is the strength of faith, which frees us from fear and gives us hope.

“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith”? Dear brothers and sisters, from this place that tells of Peter’s rock-solid faith, I would like this evening to entrust all of you to the Lord, through the intercession of Mary, Health of the People and Star of the stormy Sea. From this colonnade that embraces Rome and the whole world, may God’s blessing come down upon you as a consoling embrace.

Lord, may you bless the world, give health to our bodies and comfort our hearts. You ask us not to be afraid. Yet our faith is weak and we are fearful. But you, Lord, will not leave us at the mercy of the storm. Tell us again: “Do not be afraid” (Mt 28:5). And we, together with Peter, “cast all our anxieties onto you, for you care about us” (cf. 1 Pet 5:7).

God is close to our broken hearts

In the midst of a global pandemic, the constant reality is one of noise. In the midst of that noise, one can feel alone in one’s pain and suffering: a world in crisis blocks out many sources of comfort. While we seek social distancing for our collective health, we experience social alienation and isolation as individuals. That, for many, can be heartbreaking. We ask, quite reasonably, where God is as our hearts break. The psalmist understood that feeling well, knowing the troubles that befall the human spirit and the human community. In that knowledge, the psalmist cries out: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.”

As we live through a Lent in which Easter itself seems cancelled by events, how can we rest in the closeness of God in the midst of coronavirus? We must, above all, remember our hope that lies just past the end of Lent: that our God, who loves us into being in every moment, joined us in our infirmities so that we might rise with Jesus to eternal life. God, as the psalmist says, is close to our broken hearts.

26th March 2020

“If I bore witness to myself, my testimony would be worthless”

Today, the Gospel teaches us how Jesus faces the following objection: as Deut 19:15, says, «one witness is not enough to convict a man accused of any crime or offense he may have committed. A matter must be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses». Jesus plaids in his favour John the Baptist’s testimony, the Father’s testimony —manifest through the works He did— and, finally, the testimony of the Scriptures.

Jesus Christ reproaches those who listen to him three impediments they have, to accept him as the Son of God’s Messiah: the lack of love of God; the lack of honest intentions —they only seek the human glory— and, their having their own interests at heart when interpreting the Scriptures.

Our Holy father Pope John Paul II wrote: “You can get to the contemplation of Christ’s face only by listening, in the Spirit, to the Father’s voice, for no one knows the Son except the Father (cf. Mt 11:27). It is, therefore, needed the revelation from the Almighty. But, to receive it, it is indispensable to place oneself in a listening attitude”.

This is why we have to bear in mind that, to declare Jesus Christ as the true Son of God, the proposed external evidence is not enough; will’s rectitude is very important, that is, a good moral disposition.

In this time of Lent, by increasing the deeds of penance that facilitate our interior renovation, we shall improve our disposition to contemplate Christ’s true face.

This is why, Saint Josemaría, says: “That Christ you see, is not Jesus. —It will be, in any case, the sad image your blurred eyes may form… —Purify yourself. Clarify your look with humility and penance. Afterwards… you won’t be lacking the clear lights of Love. And you will have a perfect vision. Your image will really be: Him!”