A Prayer for the World and More!

 

A Prayer by Rabbi Harold Kushner – 2003

 

Let the rain come and wash away
the ancient grudges, the bitter hatreds
held and nurtured over generations.

Let the rain wash away the memory
of the hurt, the neglect.
Then let the sun come out and
fill the sky with rainbows.

Let the warmth of the sun heal us
wherever we are broken.
Let it burn away the fog so that
we can see each other clearly.
So that we can see beyond labels,
beyond accents, gender or skin color.

Let the warmth and brightness
of the sun melt our selfishness.
So that we can share the joys and
feel the sorrows of our neighbors.

And let the light of the sun
be so strong that we will see all
people as our neighbors.

Let the earth, nourished by rain,
bring forth flowers
to surround us with beauty.

And let the mountains teach our hearts
to reach upward to heaven.
Amen.
 

The door . . .

 

You came down from your throne and stood at my cottage door.
I was singing all alone in a corner, and the melody caught your ear.
You came down and stood at my cottage door.

Masters are many in your hall and songs are sung there at all hours.
But the simple carol of this novice struck at your love. One plaintive
little strain mingled with the great music of the world, and with a
flower for a prize you came down and stopped at my cottage door.
Tagore
Song Offerings

Leaf mutterings. . .

 

 

A blade of grass  . . .

Said a blade of grass to an autumn leaf, “You make such a noise falling! You scatter all my winter dreams.”

Said the leaf indignant, “Low-born and low-dwelling! Songless, peevish thing! You live not in the upper air and you cannot tell the sound of singing.”

Then the autumn leaf lay down upon the earth and slept. And when spring came she waked again — and she was a blade of grass.

And when it was autumn and her winter sleep was upon her, and above her through all the air the leaves were falling, she muttered to herself, “O these autumn leaves! They make such a noise! They scatter all my winter dreams.”

K.Gibran – The Madman Chapter 30

Feast of Pope John XXIII - Saint and Prophet!

 

October 11 . . .

Feast of Pope John 

XXIII - Saint and Prophet!

Not long after being elected to the papacy, Pope John took up residence in the papal apartments. These private apartments are hidden well inside Vatican City. John felt a little like a prisoner there, unable to come and go as he pleased and, more important to him, unable to invite friends to daily meals. It had become a custom for the pope to dine alone.

Pope John confided to his secretary, Monsignor Loris Capovilla, that he was unable to sleep through the night anymore. He felt lonely, and this kept him awake. He needed more conversation and more social stimulation to help him lose this feeling of being deserted . . .

Pope John simply could not accustom himself to the habit of eating all by himself, a practice which Pius XII had always maintained. In a very short time Capovilla was invited to join him at the table. The Pope’s appetite improved immediately. Shortly afterward he invited the cardinals of the Curia to be his table companions, one after the other. Little by little, bishops from all over the world, when they made their ad limina visits to Rome, were invited to join him for lunch or dinner. (Klinger, p. 29)

+  +  +

Once a distinguished luncheon companion ventured to remind John of the solitary eating habits of Pius XII. “Well and good,” John replied. “I value tradition and I grant that my predecessors did, too.  I must confess, however, that I have never found any place in the Bible which suggests that the Pope should eat alone." (Klinger, p. 29)

(Above selections from: Praying with Pope John XXIII by Bill Huebsch)

Quotes from John XXIII

• “It often happens that I wake up at night and begin to think about a serious problem and decide I must tell the Pope about it. Then I wake up completely and remember that I am the Pope.”

• “Anybody can be Pope; the proof of this is that I have become one.”

• “The feelings of my smallness and my nothingness always kept me good company.”

• “To have accepted with simplicity the honour and the burden of the pontificate, with the joy of being able to say that I did nothing to obtain it, absolutely nothing; indeed I was most careful and conscientious to avoid anything that might direct attention to myself. As the voting in Conclave wavered to and fro, I rejoiced when I saw the chances of my being elected diminishing and the likelihood of others, in my opinion truly most worthy and venerable persons, being chosen.”

• "See everything, overlook a great deal, correct a little.”

• “Here I am at the end of the road and at the top of the heap.”

• ”Prayer is the raising of the mind to God.
We must always remember this.
The actual words matter less.”

• “Consult not your fears but your hopes and your dreams. Think not about your frustrations, but about your unfulfilled potential. Concern yourself not with what you tried and failed in, but with what it is still possible for you to do.”

Indifference – The Enemy of Faith:

 

Indifference – The Enemy of Faith: 

                                 

The Twenty-Eighth Sunday of Ordinary Time 2026 

October 11, 2026

www.johnpredmoresj.com | predmore.blogspot.com

Isaiah 25:6-10; Psalm 23; Philippians 4:12-20; Matthew 22:1-14

  

Scripture today begins with this enticing invitation to engage in God’s banquet of rich foods and tasty drinks and to gather with loved ones free from harm of death, fear, and suffering. The message is that God is going to abundantly care for you and make sure all your needs are met. Saint Paul and the Psalmist remind us that God will supply whatever we need. In the Gospel, God invites us, through a parable, to a banquet, and we are told how people respond. We are invited to respond personally now. We hear the responses from people in the parable, and they are responses that we also hear now.

 

The first responses show us that the invited guests do not care enough to accept the offer. They have other things to do. Their farms, businesses, and family life are more compelling to them than an invitation to the wedding feast. They do not think they are rejecting the king with hostility. They say, “I have other things to do,” or “I’m too busy.” We, too, become preoccupied with work, possessions, entertainment, ambitions, and responsibilities, and a consequence is that God can gradually become less important. The danger is that good things can become substitutes for God. We become indifferent, as though God’s presence makes little difference to the way I live. God is no longer important enough to interrupt my life. We cannot see what is being offered: joy, celebration, and communion. 

 

Indifference is a progression that can become resistance, and this resistance can become hostility. Our hearts gradually become accustomed to not listening and to being closed. When we repeatedly say “no,” we stop noticing, then we stop valuing, and then we reject. When we do this in our relationship with God, we become less receptive to God’s presence and less prone to even hear the invitation. Indifference becomes the enemy of the faith.

 

So how do we make certain we do not become indifferent? We develop a habit of attentiveness. We might not hear God’s explicit voice, but it is present when we ask ourselves these questions? What is God doing in my life today? What is God asking of me now? Who did God place before me and why? Where do I need to be open to change? We may not realize we are being invited to a banquet or that God is trying to tend to one of our needs because these invitations may not be explicit and they may not come dramatically. They may come through an encounter, an insight while reading a Scripture passage, a chance conversation, a moment of discomfort, a sudden awakening, a request by someone in need. The question is whether we are woke enough, aware enough, to recognize the invitation. 

 

Notice that God’s invitation is wider than we think. The king tells his servants to “invite to the feast whomever you find.” The good and the bad alike are invited. So, this is not about worthiness to accept the invitation because someone unworthy might see it for what it is worth. This is not about goodness or badness. A good person may miss the invitation while a bad person accepts it. A person can be imperfect and still be deeply open to God, while an outwardly religious person may be inwardly closed. God’s generosity is extraordinary. It is about a proper disposition before God. The disposition is willingness to say “yes.” There are already people at the feast, not because they have achieved perfection, but because they have said “yes.” 

 

          God only asks for a receptive heart. We must be woke. We must be open to listen to receive, to change, and to respond. Missing the invitation to this feast would be a tragedy. Am I willing to recognize the invitation or am I too busy with other things that my heart and mind have become closed? What would it take for me to recognize that I am invited here and now? Remember the king’s words: Everything is ready; come to the feast.

 

Come clothed in garments of grace!

October 11, 2026

Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Katie

Glenn Brown

I grew up in the South, where there were lots of rules around what we could wear to Sunday Mass. No drawstrings, no jeans; any shorts, dresses, and skirts had to be longer than your fingertips; shoulders must be covered, etc.

I remember constantly complaining, especially as my 10-year-old tomboy self was forced into another frilly dress. I would say that the God we learned about in school didn’t seem like someone who would care what we wear. God is endlessly loving and merciful, right? Jesus prioritizes the poor, flips tables, tells off the Pharisees … I don’t think he would care whether my shoulders were covered or not. I still think I had some valid points for a 10 year old theologian.

That’s part of why this week’s gospel is so troubling for many of us. Jesus tells us a parable of a King - representing God - who seems to be more angry and vengeful than loving and merciful.

In the parable, the King is throwing a wedding feast for his son, so he sends his servants out to hand deliver the invitations. At first, the guests refuse to come. So the king sends out his servants again, reminding the guests that everything is prepared and ready, they just need to show up. Some of them ignore the invitation and choose to go to work instead. Others decide to just go ahead and kill the servants who brought the invitations. In response, the king sends his troops to kill the murderers and burn their entire cities.

Then, the King sends his servants to invite anyone out on the roads to the wedding feast. The good, the bad, the poor, the rich. All are welcome. This is behavior we can get on board with, right? Sounds a little more like our God.

But then the King finds a man at the feast not dressed in proper wedding attire. The man has no answer for why he is dressed this way, so the King tells his servants to bind the man and cast him out into the darkness, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth. Just a tad harsh towards someone who didn’t abide by the dress code. Needless to say, this parable can be quite confusing if taken literally. But let’s take a step back.

In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus is telling this story to the chief priests and elders at the Temple in Jerusalem. Just before this, he was flipping tables of money lenders, healing the blind, and cursing fig trees. The chief priests were not thrilled about the stir Jesus was causing and began to publicly question him and his authority. He responds with parables about the Kingdom and final judgement, calling out the religious leaders’ hypocrisy and their tendency to cast judgement on the marginalized. They apparently weren’t really getting it, because this is the third parable Jesus tells in a row, which may be why he felt like he needed to tell a story that was a bit more shocking, that really got these guys to listen.

Keeping in mind that Jesus was perhaps trying to add some dramatic flare, and that parables shouldn’t necessarily be interpreted literally, helps us better understand what’s going on here. Within the parable, it’s also helpful to remember what a big deal this feast would have been. It’s the wedding of the king’s son. Can you imagine getting a hand delivered invitation to the royal wedding, and ignoring it or saying “No, I’m good, I have some work to catch up on?” Then you get a second invite, and you murder the mailman?

Throughout the Old Testament, the wedding feast is a common symbol of the Kingdom of God - the chief priests would have certainly recognized this as a parable about the Kingdom and final judgment. Jesus is reminding them, and all of us, just how irrational it is to reject God’s free invitation to participate in God’s Kingdom. And that when we do reject this invitation, and turn instead towards worldly desires, preoccupations, and systems of violence, there are repercussions. I don’t think Jesus is saying that God is going to burn down our houses and cities (in fact, the burning of the cities is likely a reference to the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem by the Romans in 70 AD).  But rather, he is reminding us that when we live not as participants in God’s Kingdom but instead as participants in the structures of sin, poverty, violence, and oppression which actively oppose the coming of God’s Kingdom here on earth, we shouldn’t be surprised when we are met with death and destruction.

The ecumenical church is in the middle of celebrating the Season of Creation, remembering our calling to be stewards of God’s earth. Just think about the structures and systems that the wealthiest nations have invested in … should we really be surprised that forests are burning, that clean water is disappearing, and that extreme weather is worsening, given our systemic reliance on fossil fuels, endless cycles of consumption and waste, and disregard for the most vulnerable? This isn’t a wrathful punishment from God, it’s a consequence of our actions. It’s no wonder that the Kingdom of God described in both our first reading and in the Gospel feels so far away.

However, this parable also reminds us that what our systems of power reject and oppose, we can still embrace and build up. We can participate in God’s abundant feast here and now. Remember, the king wasn’t sending a save the date for some party years in the future - it’s a feast going on right now. Come join, he says! There is more than enough to go around, and all are welcome.

There’s only one catch - and I don’t think it’s really about dress code. Jesus is very clear throughout the gospels that you don’t need to be rich or have a black-tie appropriate outfit to attend this feast of the Kingdom, far from it. It doesn’t matter what you show up in, but it does matter how you show up. We are asked to show up with arms open to God’s grace and love, open to one another, ready to be active participants in the Kingdom. I imagine this man without a wedding garment wasn’t really present at the wedding, if you know what I mean. Maybe he was sneering and judging people’s dancing from the corner or doing the first century version of scrolling on his phone the whole time. Maybe he was in the right place, with the right people, even saying the right things, much like some of the chief priests and elders. But spiritually? He was just like those who rejected the invitation in the first place, refusing to truly participate in the Kingdom.

So, no, I still don’t think that God cares if we wear jeans to church, but if dressing a little nicer is a way to prepare ourselves for entering a space where we are going to receive God and celebrate with our brother and sisters in Christ, then I sure do get where my mom was coming from when she made me put on those dresses. But let us remember that we are invited to be active participants in God’s Kingdom not just inside the walls of the church, but everywhere we go. Let us accept, every day, God’s invitation to this feast of abundance, and reject the temptation to participate in systems of death, destruction, and oppression. Let us dare to show up, not perfectly dressed or without flaws, but with openness, with willingness, clothed in garments of grace and love, and ready to dance.

Being Peacemakers. . .

 https://www.catholicwomenpreach.org/preaching/10042026#w-tabs-0-data-w-pane-1

October 4, 2026

Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

Margaret Eletta

Guider, OSF

This weekend, in Franciscan places throughout the world, the 800th Anniversary of the Transitus of St. Francis - the remembrance of his passing from his earthly life to eternal life - is being commemorated. For the Franciscan family, this is an annual event where we remember Francis’s parting words: “I have done what I was to do, may God teach you what you are to do.” However, what makes this year different from all others is that Pope Leo has designated 2026 as a special year of remembrance. In doing so, he also has invited the entire people of God to join in remembering the Poverello of Assisi, the troubadour of God, the unrelenting ambassador for peace, the pilgrim of hope, and the missionary disciple of God’s incarnate love, who lived the evangelical life - disarmed and disarming, always conscious of God’s holy manner of working in all of Creation.

On this Twenty-seventh Sunday of Ordinary Time, our readings provide us with powerful images - some are disturbing and unsettling, some are inspiring and engaging, and others are catalysts for action and commitment.  

Let us begin with the Prophet Isaiah and his song about his Friend and his Friend’s Vineyard (Is 5:1-7). As I reflected on this passage, I could not help but think of the California vineyards that were destroyed by fire and smoke, the vineyards in France that succumbed to drought and unrelenting scorching temperatures, and the vineyards across several major wine regions of the world that were devastated by severe flooding in recent months. For me, these harrowing images brought Isaiah’s words to life - and begged the theodicy question: Has our world become the vineyard in the hands of an angry God?  

Beyond these actual vineyards, I believe we are being invited to consider not only how the metaphorical vineyard of our world – as depicted on the nightly news - is being de-created by so-called acts of God, but to ask ourselves in what ways our human hands, driven by vengeance, greed, impunity and insolence, are destroying the vineyard of Creation entrusted to our care?  This question brings us directly to Chapter 21 of the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, where Isaiah’s Song of the Vineyard is transposed into the ballad of the Parable of the Tenants (Matt 21:33-43).

This passage begins with the landowner who leases his fruitful vineyard to tenants. When vintage time comes, he sends three servants to obtain the produce. They are beaten, stoned and killed by the tenants. The landowner sends more servants who meet with the same fate. He then sends his son believing the tenants will treat him differently, but they do not. They throw the son out of the vineyard and they kill him.  The allegory does not require much explanation.  The landowner is God. The servants are the prophets. The son and heir is Jesus Christ. The vineyard is the people of the covenant. As for the wicked tenants? In today’s world, let us look around, and face the haunting question: Is it I, Lord?  Is it us, Lord? Indeed, to what degree might we be judged and found guilty by our landowner God as wicked tenants, not only for what we have done, but even more tragically for what we have failed to do?

But … the parable does not end there.  It offers us another horizon for reflection. The landowner does not destroy the vineyard, along with punishing the evil tenants. No, the vineyard remains and is leased to new tenants who will produce for the landowner an abundant vintage of good fruits.  Could it be that today our God is calling us to be those new tenants to whom God is entrusting God’s vineyard?  

Perhaps, our second reading from the fourth chapter of the Letter to the Philippians (4:6-9) provides us with answer as to how as “new tenants” we are called to proceed.

Let us be attentive to the message that Paul and Timothy are sending to us today: “Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me or seen in me—put it into practice.” Don’t be anxious. Be steadfast in prayer. Ask God for what you need. Be thankful. Let your hearts and minds be united Christ, that you may know what is true in a world of lies and deception, that you may know what is noble in a world of hubris and pomp, that you may know what is right in a world that lacks a moral compass, that you may discover what is pure, lovely, and admirable, and often hidden from sight, in a world of corruption, horror and infamy. Put into practice what you have learned, received and heard and know that the God of peace will be with you.

In the world of the Thirteenth Century, Francis of Assisi took these words to heart. Today, in 2026, let us do the same, remembering that we, too, have been chosen from the world to go and produce good fruit, fruit that will remain (Jn 15:16).

Viewed from a Franciscan perspective, one of the most important fruits is sharing the blessing “May the Lord give you peace” (The Testament of St. Francis, 23) with human beings and all of creation.  On the occasion of this feast, I would like to conclude with the prayer of Pope Leo:

Saint Francis, our brother, you who eight hundred years ago
went to meet Sister Death as a man at peace,
intercede for us before the Lord.

You recognized true peace in the Crucifix of San Damiano,
teach us to seek in Him the source of all reconciliation
that breaks down every wall.

You who, unarmed, crossed the lines of war
and misunderstanding,
give us the courage to build bridges
where the world raises up boundaries.

In this time afflicted by conflict and division,
intercede for us so that we may become peacemakers:
unarmed and disarming witnesses of the peace that comes from Christ.

Amen

LETTER OF THE HOLY FATHER LEO XIV TO THE MINISTERS GENERAL OF THE CONFERENCE OF THE FRANCISCAN FAMILY ON THE OCCASION OF THE OPENING OF THE EIGHTH CENTENARY OF THE DEATH OF ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI

[Assisi, 10 January 2026]

 Margaret Eletta Guider, OSF

Margaret Eletta Guider, OSF, is Associate Professor of Missiology at the Boston College Clough School of Theology and Ministry and Professora Ordinaria of the Ecclesiastical Faculty.

Born and raised in Chicago, Illinois, she completed undergraduate and graduate degrees in education at the University of Illinois and taught in both public and parochial schools in the inner city. In 1975, she became a lay missioner and ministered in the rural interior of Goiás, Brazil, with the Sisters of St. Francis of Mary Immaculate. Upon her return to the United States, she entered the congregation, and after a period of formation, she returned to Chicago and served as director of Mission Education for the Archdiocese and as chaplain for the Cook County Juvenile Detention Center. These experiences informed and influenced her ongoing commitment to Franciscan life, her interest in mission and the world church, and her passion for theology and ministerial formation.

Sr. Guider holds theological degrees from Catholic Theological Union, the Weston Jesuit School of Theology and the Divinity School of Harvard University. Currently, she is working on a manuscript entitled With Hearts Broken Open: U.S. Franciscan Missionaries in Latin America, the Caribbean and Africa (1879-2019). She is past president of the American Society of Missiology as well as the Association of Professors of Mission. She has served as an advisor and consultant for religious institutes and missionary societies as well as a board member for a variety of Catholic institutions and faith-based organizations. Her publications focus on the Church in Latin America, Vatican II Studies, Mission Studies, Franciscan Studies, and Ministerial Formation.