Thursday, August 13, 2026

A Voice of Great Faith . . .


August 16, 2026

 

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/081626.cfm

 https://www.catholicwomenpreach.org/preaching/08162026

Tanya

Rybarczyk

Oh woman, great is your faith!

I wonder… what is Jesus speaking to when he says this? What is he responding to in this woman, in this moment, when he acknowledges her “great faith”?

As Easter people in our time and place, with 2000 years of theology behind us, it’s easy to default to an understanding of faith as belief in Jesus: belief in him as the incarnate one, as the son of God, the Word of God, believing in him as the Christ.  As such, faith becomes an internal stance, a directional focus, keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus. But this clearly isn’t what Jesus is focused on, at least not this story. If it was, he would have granted the Canaanite woman’s request as soon as she addressed him: “Lord, son of David, have mercy on me.” But in fact he doesn’t; he first ignores her, and then, after the disciples call on him to send her away, he dismisses her as not being part of his flock. Despite her calling him Lord, Jesus claims he is not hershepherd.

Whether Jesus really believes this and needs to grow his own understanding, or is purposely inviting the conversation that follows, or is a momentarily tired and grumpy human being not wanting to be bothered, this woman is clearly prepared to counter any obstacle for the sake of her daughter. So when Jesus calls her a dog, a common slur referring to gentiles, she is ready with a response, even as she pays him homage. If you look at the Greek, what she says to him is in effect: “even the little dogs – the pets -- make a meal of the crumbs that the children give them.”

This brings me immediately back to when my youngest niece was six, and we were visiting our in-laws in their home. Their black lab puppy Lucy was begging at the table, and my sister-in-law, who is as formidable as they come, told us that their family “NEVER, EVER feeds the dog anything from the table.” Not 3 minutes later I saw my 6-year-old niece, fast as lightning flip some food to Lucy. When she realized I saw, she looked at me wide eyed, finger over her mouth, silently begging me not to tell.  

When this woman answers Jesus, she is pointing to the natural compassion of children. She is begging Jesus (who elsewhere asks us to come to him as a little child!), to have the compassion that a child has for their little dog…to give her the crumb, believing that the crumb will be enough, and arguing for the truth that all are sustained by God, that all are meant to fall under Christ’s care. THIS is when Jesus praises her great faith! This woman speaks forth compassion – fights for it on behalf of her daughter -- and her daughter is healed!

Friends, we know this woman, don’t we? We’ve seen her: in our friends, our mothers, our daughters, our sisters. We’ve been her! She is the mother who will walk barefoot over broken glass to get her daughter the care she needs; someone who fights for years for the life of her son or brother lost to addiction; that mama bear that goes up against school systems, and justice institutions and political machines so that her child and all who follow after might be raised in a more equitable, compassionate community. I think of immigrant and refugee moms, shepherding their children literally across countries to begin life in a foreign land in relative safety. We know her. We know the late nights, and the exhaustion, the willingness to grovel, the hidden tears, the worry and the struggle. We know the prayers whispered in the middle of the night and also at noon, and what it is like to be consumed by a compassion that fuels persistence and resourcefulness and fierceness and strength.

Pope Francis famously said, compassion is the language of God. And he was careful to note that compassion is not the same as pity, but a force that, when it takes hold of us, propels us, he says, “to get involved in the problems of others.”  He said “compassion takes us along the path to true justice… and this always saves us from selfishness, from indifference, from our own closure.” (Homily at Sept 17, 2019 Mass) This woman, out of compassion for her daughter, speaks the language of God’s heart to God’s son, and he esteems it as FAITH!  

Friends, imagine what might happen if we fully embraced and embodied this concept of faith! Imagine first how we would feel if credited ourselves with “great faith” on those days when getting out of bed is hard, but knowing Christ is with us, we rise and try to be love in the world for another day, even during those messy times, or those times when things look dark. Sometimes, this looks and feels like exhaustion, and it might feel our faith is the size of a mustard seed…but we know what Christ says about that!

And then imagine what healing we might bring forth into the world if, like our Canaanite woman, we manifest a compassion that propels us to fight for justice on behalf of those we are called to love, which, according to our gospel is EVERYONE, but  particularly, according to our Church’s teaching, those who are tormented by demons of their own, lost, hurting, disempowered, silenced, and especially those we may not immediately “see” or recognize as part of our neighborhood, our Church, our “flock.”

Friends, to keep our eyes fixed on the least of these IS to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus. In them is where he is found. To show compassion, to get “involved in their lives,” to have them in mind when decisions are being made or votes are being cast, is to get involved in the life of God. It is to speak God’s language. And this, my friends, is what Christ himself credits as great faith.

 

 


Tanya Rybarczyk is a preacher, writer, minister and retreat leader who specializes in adult faith formation, Catholic contemplative prayer practices and spiritual caregiving. Tanya ministered as a Pastoral Associate at Saint Cecilia Parish, Boston, as the Director of Spiritual Care at Elizabeth Seton Residence in Wellesley, MA, and as a Program Assistant for Ignatian Volunteer Corps, New England. Tanya was an adjunct retreat team member at Holy Family Passionist Retreat Center in West Hartford, CT, and continues to speak and offer guided retreats and workshops at Parishes and Spirituality Centers in New England and throughout the Pacific Northwest. She is currently part of the inaugural cohort of PROCLAIM, a preaching formation program that equips and supports women as ministers of the Word and preachers.  

Tanya’s has written and preached for America Magazine, US Catholic, and LTP. She holds Masters Degrees in Pastoral Ministry as well as in English. Tanya currently lives in the Pacific Northwest outside of Portland, Oregon with her family, and enjoys hiking, paddle-boarding, exploring coffee shops with her daughter, and working to help create a Church that fully embraces women’s spiritual gifts and callings.

 

Tuesday, August 11, 2026

There is enough . . .

 


All Are Hungry

Who am I to deem who is worthy or not?

I welcome the finches, the chickadees,

Cardinals and grosbeaks to the feeder


I shoo away the bluejays who are feisty and aggressive

The grackles who are black and ugly

The crows who are too big and too raucous


There may not be enough even though all are hungry


Who are we to deem who is worthy or not

Of refuge, housing, healthcare,

Respect, dignity and even life itself?


We welcome the white-skinned ones

The ones who declare themselves Christian

The pretty, the wealthy and powerful


We shoo away the colored-skinned ones,

The ones who worship God by a different name,

The dirty, the immigrants and helpless


There is enough, and all are hungry 


Sallie Bachar


(Used with Permission)

Friday, August 7, 2026

Feast of St. Clare . . .August 11 . . .

 


 

Gaze upon Him,

Consider Him,

Contemplate Him,

Imitate Him . . .

Words of Clare to Agnes of Prague

Feast of St. Clare, August 11

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clare_of_Assisi#:~:text=

Following%20her%20death%2C%20the%20order,day%20is%20on%2011%20August.



Image from site of Franciscans Conventual

Artist Unknown . . .



Thursday, August 6, 2026

Feast of Edith Stein - August 9 . . .

  

August 9: Teresa Benedicta of the Cross (Edith Stein), martyr (1891-1942), became a Catholic convert from Judaism after reading the autobiography of Teresa of Avila. She earned a doctorate in philosophy but was unemployable because she was a woman. She taught at a high school for eight years before entering the Carmelites in 1933 where she made final vows in 1938. She moved to Holland to escape persecution by the Nazis, but was arrested when the bishops spoke out against the persecution of the Jews.


 


 

G

od is there in these moments of rest and can give us in a single instant exactly what we need.  Then the rest of the day can take its course, under the same effort and strain, perhaps, but in peace.  And when night comes, and you look back over the day and see how fragmentary everything has been, and how much you planned that has gone undone. . . just take everything exactly as it is, put it in God’s hands and leave it with God.  Then you will be able to rest in God ~ really rest ~ and start the next day as a new life.

St. Teresa Benedict of the Cross (Edith Stein)

The God of Calmness: The Nineteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time 2026

 


"Hand of God" 

Artist: Yongsung Kim

                                               The God of Calmness:

The Nineteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time 2026 

August 9, 2026

www.johnpredmoresj.com | predmore.blogspot.com


1 Kings 19:11-13; Psalm 85; Romans 9:1-5; Matthew 14:22-33

 

 

Where do we look for God versus where do we find God? In the story about Elijah, we find the prophet in the cave expecting to see God pass by. It is not in the big, clamorous events. It was not in God speaking clearly and directly. It was not the appearance of a powerfully strong God who acts mightily. God appeared in the stillness that followed the silence. In the Gospel, we also see that the presence of God is one of stillness and silence. It is not in the swirling winds or thunder or lightning. God’s presence in the person of Jesus provides calm. 

 

Why is this important? Many times, a person will speak with me because they are uncertain that God hears them. They have been good, obedient, and respectful to God, but God does not seem to be answering them. There are many possible directions for the person to go, and they want to be kind and dutiful. They say something like, “I wish God would simply tell me plainly and directly what I should do. I want to know God’s will. Why cannot God be clear with me?” Well, my friends, this is not how God works with most of us.

 

God voice can be heard clearly and distinctly, and it is often found in the quiet silence or the stillness. God may be very active in your consciousness, and perhaps you have to listen in a different manner. Jesus shows us that he offers calm and a steady hand in the midst of severely swirling storms, and he still says, “Come. I want you to be with me. Take my hand. You’ll find what you need with me.” In the storms of our lives, we can be beset by so many competing, discordant voices and we do not know to which voice we should listen, but we can train ourselves to detect the quiet movements of the voice of Jesus. 

 

He often works through gentle invitations given by our friends or associates. It can be a quality of welcome, a tone of voice, an assurance offered by a stranger, but it is unmistakably from Jesus. He is the one who extends the hands of calmness and stillness. So, when we are confused or bombarded by thoughts or in distress, that is not the time to pray. It is the time to sit down and breathe. It is the time to get ourselves centered so we find ourselves at the edge of the cave like Elijah or like Peter clutching the hand of Jesus. We have to center ourselves with the breath before entering prayer. When we are distressed, anxious, or angry, we are not free. We cannot pray. When we settle ourselves and let the breath calm our unruly thoughts, then we touch our freedom and we can pray. We have to get into the practice of breathing daily when we are not in distress so we build a routine of centering ourselves. 

 

We learn to see with our eyes and our other senses, and we begin to detect when and where the Risen Jesus is present to us. This voice becomes clear and distinct and trustworthy, and we can hear it no matter how ferocious those winds are. This voice is always calm, welcoming, and supportive. His voice guides us to make the right choices in confidence. If we breathe, and allow us to be seen by Jesus, we can do anything, and we can find that calmness. He says, “Experience and use your courage. Do not be afraid. I want you to know me. I want you to come. I offer you invitations. Come. I want your partnership and your friendship. I am your God.”

Feast of St. Dominic . . .

 

 




·       May God the Father who made us bless us. 

May God the Son send his healing among us.

May God the Holy Spirit move within us and give us

eyes to see with, 

ears to hear with,

and hands that God’s work might be done. 

May we walk with God and preach the Word of God to all. 

 May the angel of peace watch over us and lead us at

last by God’s grace to the kingdom.  Amen.

Seeing is Believing!

 


Dazzling


Believe me, I know
how tempting it is
to remain inside this blessing,
to linger where everything
is dazzling
and clear.

We could build walls
around this blessing,
put a roof over it.
We could bring in
a table, chairs,
have the most amazing meals.
We could make a home.
We could stay.

But this blessing
is built for leaving.
This blessing
is made for coming down
the mountain.
This blessing
wants to be in motion,
to travel with you
as you return
to level ground.

It will seem strange
how quiet this blessing becomes
when it returns to earth.
It is not shy.
It is not afraid.

It simply knows
how to bide its time,
to watch and wait,
to discern and pray

until the moment comes
when it will reveal
everything it knows,
when it will shine forth
with all that it has seen,
when it will dazzle
with the unforgettable light
you have carried
all this way.

~ written by Jan L. Richardson, and posted on The Painted Prayerbook. http://paintedprayerbook.com/
(inspired by Matthew 17:1-8, Mark 9:2-8, Luke 9:28-36)