A minister told his
congregation, "Next week I plan to preach about the sin of lying. To
help you understand my sermon, I want you all to read Mark 17.
The following Sunday, as he prepared to deliver his sermon, the minister asked
for a show of hands.
He wanted to know how
many had read Mark 17. Every hand went up. The minister smiled and said,
"Mark has only 16 chapters.
I will now proceed with
my sermon on the sin of lying."
Once a three year old girl went to the store with her mother who told her, "I can't afford to spend money on chocolate chip cookies, so don't even ask."
She put her
daughter in the child's seat of the cart and picked up her groceries. Passing
the cookie shelves the child asked, "Mom, may I have some chocolate
chip cookies?" She said, "Don't ask." Heading toward
the checkout counter she said again, "Please, Mom, just a few?"
"No," she replied. Waiting in the checkout line she knew that
this was her last chance. She stood up in the cart and called out in her
loudest voice, "Please, please, in the name of Jesus, could I have some
chocolate chip cookies?" Everyone around laughed, but the mother and
child left the store with several gift boxes of chocolate chip cookies.
So, keep on
asking and you will receive; keep on seeking and you will find; keep on
knocking and the door will be opened. (Author unknown)
Once upon a
time, a pilgrim set out on the long journey in search of peace, joy and love.
The pilgrim walked for many weary miles, and time passed.
Gradually,
the young, lively steps became slower and more labored. The pilgrim’s journey
passed through landscapes that were not always happy ones. Through war. Through
sickness. Through quarrels and rejections and separations. A land where, it is
seemed, the more people possessed, the more warlike they became – the more they
had to defend, the more they needed to attack each other. Longing for peace,
they prepared for war. Longing for love, they surrounded themselves with walls
of distrust and barriers of fear. Longing for life, they were walking deeper
into death.
But one
morning, the pilgrim came to a little cottage at the wayside. Something about
this little cottage attracted the pilgrim. It was as though it was lit up from
the inside. Full of curiosity, the pilgrim went inside. And inside the cottage
was a little shop, and behind the counter stood a shopkeeper. It was hard to
judge the age – hard even to say for sure whether it was a man or a woman.
There was an air of timelessness about the place.
‘What would
you like?’ asked the shopkeeper in a kindly voice.
‘What do you
stock here?’ asked the pilgrim.
‘Oh, we have
all the things here that you most long for,’ replied the shopkeeper. ‘Just tell
me what you desire.’ The pilgrim hardly knew where to begin. So many desires
came rushing to mind. ‘I want peace – in my own family, in my native land and
in the whole world.
I want to
make something good of my life.
I want those
who are sick to be well again and those who are lonely to have friends.
I want those
who are hungry to have enough to eat.
I want every
child born on this planet today to have a chance to be educated.
I want everyone on earth to live in freedom.
I want the
world to be a kingdom of love.’
There was a
pause, while the pilgrim reviewed this shopping list.
Gently, the
shopkeeper broke in. ‘I’m sorry,’ came the quiet reply. ‘I should have
explained. We don’t supply the fruits here. We only supply the seeds.’ (Source unknown)
Prayer
O God, help us to feel you;
Help us to know how precious we are to you,
that we might become at least half so precious to ourselves.
Move with us, according to your desire.
Ease our hearts, melt our harsh edges
so that we might sense how intimate you truly are.
Guide us, God in an ever more complete embrace of you,
that we might bear more of your endless embrace of us,
and thereby embrace ourselves.
Keep alive within us, O Christ, your most precious gift to us
which is our burning, longing, wordless yearning for you.
Grant to us the courage and the vulnerability and the dignity
to claim our hunger for you in every moment,
celebrating, in each instant the pain and delight of our longing.
Touch us beneath our will, opening us where we cannot open ourselves,
healing us where we cannot heal ourselves.
And, in the vibrant mystery of your Spirit within us,
accept our eternal gratitude for every act of goodness
that comes to us from another or through us for another,
for every nourishing way that souls may touch each other,
for every bit of love we share, and for the wonder,
the tender laughing touching calling beautiful wonder.
Gerald May
(Source Unknown)
Heavenly
Father, heavenly Mother, Holy and blessed is your true name. We pray for your
reign of peace to come, We pray that your good will be done, Let heaven and
earth become one. Give us this day the bread we need, Give it to those who have
none. Let forgiveness flow like a river between us, From each one to each one.
Lead us to holy innocence Beyond the evil of our days — Come swiftly Mother,
Father, come. For yours is the power and the glory and the mercy: Forever your
name is All in One.
By
Parker Palmer
Prayer for a Questioning Heart
It seems to me, Lord, that we search much too desperately for answers when a good question holds as much grace as an answer. Jesus, you are the Great Questioner.
 |
| Statue at Cathedral Basilica ~ Santa Fe, NM |
_Vermeer_-_Christ_in_the_House_of_Martha_and_Mary_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg)
Author: Irene Zimmerman, OSF
As Jesus taught the gathered brothers
and Martha boiled and baked their dinner,
Mary eavesdropped in the anteroom
between the great hall and the kitchen.
Her dying mother’s warning words
clanged clearly in her memory –
“Obey your sister. She has learned
The ways and duties of a woman.”
She’d learned her sister’s lessons well
and knew a woman’s place was not
to sit and listen and be taught.
But when she heard the voice of Jesus
call to her above the din
of Martha’s boiling pots and pans,
she made her choice decisively –
took off her apron and traditions,
and walked in.
(Used with permission)
In this liturgical calendar
year, the Gospel reading for the Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time is that of The Good
Samaritan. I once had written a
reflection on this Scripture from the Inn Keeper’s point of view. I post it here for your reflection. I invite you to consider “stepping into the
parable” and writing your own reflection.
Blessings! Jean Hinderer, CSA
Shalom to you!
I am the owner and manager of
this establishment which some would like to call an inn. It seems to be the only
place on this rugged stretch of road between Jerusalem and Jericho. I see a lot of strange happenings along these
heavily traveled paths, for it is a major trade route. One has to be vigilant on these roads, especially
when the band of robbers surprise unsuspecting victims.
I am often fortunate to encounter a number of
travelers who are merchants, pilgrims, temple elders, and foreigners from
nearby provinces who are looking for work.
I know that some are not of my faith, but my wife says I need to be open
and offer hospitality to anyone who seeks refuge from the desert sun, or needs
rest from walking the dirt roads, or who may be on pilgrimage for atonement of
sins long ago. I have a young new family
and the extra money is essential for me so I can feed and clothe my family,
besides paying taxes to the governor!
I learned a lot from my father
when he was an innkeeper in Bethlehem.
When I was a child, he often told me stories of the people who came to
his establishment. He always enjoyed telling
one story in particular of a young pregnant woman, who traveled with a man with
strong hands and an anxious heart.
Since this was the time of the census, they sought a place to stay with
their relatives, but no one would make room for this unwed mother to be. It was my father who gave them a place to
stay.
So I now encounter this
Samaritan man – I can tell by his accent and the way he is dressed. He is carrying someone on his donkey and is
heading here to my desk. We are a simple
establishment. No magnetic swipe, cards, no room service (unless there is money
to accompany the request) and no extra set of clean towels. This tall, quite burly Samaritan says that he
found this Jew along the roadside, beaten and left half dead. Apparently this man encountered those robbers
that I spoke of earlier. The Samaritan
requested a room for him to care for this injured man. I accommodated and even
gave him those extra towels with no charge – my wife said that would be the
compassionate thing to do. Early the
next morning, the Samaritan handed me money, two days wages, and wanted me to
give the injured man further care with a bed, food, and healing oils. I agreed to do so immediately. I guess it was his eyes, his gentle voice, and
his deep concern for this traveler. He
didn’t even know his name. He said that
he would return in a few days and pay me with more money if what he had given
me was not enough.
He then turned, started to
walk out the door, but turned again and spoke a blessing to me and my
family. I wondered if he was a follower
of the man from Galilee whom they call, Jesus.
This Samaritan man was so compassionate toward this traveler, a
Jew. When he returns, I will ask him
where I can find this Jesus.
~ Based on the Parable of the Good Samaritan ~ Luke 10:25-37
Once upon a time, there lived the old Rabbi Eisik in a
wretched little tenement flat in the city of Krakow in Poland. Eisik lived in
extreme poverty with his wife and children. Through all the hard times, Eisik
had kept his faith and looked after his family as best he could.
And so it was that he believed, when he had a dream one
night, that the dram contained a message from God. In the dream, he had a
vision of a chest of gold, hidden beneath a particular bridge in the grounds of
the royal palace in Prague.
At first, he hesitated to believe in what he had dreamed.
But when the dream recurred a second time, and then a third time, he decided to
make the journey to Prague.
But when he found the bridge of his dreams, he found that it
was guarded day and night by sentries, and he didn’t dare to start digging.
Nevertheless, he came to the bridge every morning, and walked around it all day
until evening.
Eventually, the chief guard, noticing the rabbi’s odd
behavior, asked him, in a very friendly way, whether he was searching for
something there, or perhaps waiting for someone.
Something prompted Rabbi Eisik to tell the friendly guard
about the dream that had brought him all the way to Prague from Krakow. The
guard laughed: ‘Oh dear,’ he said. ‘You poor old fellow with your worn-out
shoes – you have tramped all this way for the sake of a dream. Well, more fool
you, for trusting a dream. I can tell you that if dreams were to be trusted,
then I’d be on the road as well, because I once had a dream that told me to
walk to Krakow, and to search out a hovel in the poorest district, belonging to
someone called Rabbi Eisik. There I was supposed to search behind the stove, where
I would find hidden treasure. Just imagine how I was supposed to find that
treasure in a strange town, where there must be hundreds of Rabbi Eisiks!’ and
he laughed again.
Rabbi Eisik bowed graciously, and turned back home, to find
the treasure hidden closer to him than he could ever have imagined.
(Author/Source Unknown)
A story is told that a young
man who was raised into an atheistic family environment was training to be an
Olympic diver. He had no religious influence except his outspoken Christian
friend in school. The young diver never paid much attention to his friend's
sermons but he heard them often. One night he went to the indoor pool at his
college. The lights were all off, but with big skylights under a bright
moonlight, he had plenty of light to practice by. The young man climbed up to
the highest diving board. He turned his back to the pool as he prepared to make
a somersault. As he went to the edge of the board and extended his arms out, he
saw his shadow on the wall. The shape of his body was in the shape of a cross.
Instead of diving at once, he knelt down for the first time and finally asked
God to come into his life. As he stood, a maintenance man walked in and turned
the lights on. The pool had been drained for repairs that night. (Author/source Unknown)
A reporter was covering that tragic conflict in the
middle of Sarajevo, and he saw a little girl shot by a sniper. The reporter
threw down his pad and pencil, and stopped being a reporter for a few minutes.
He rushed to the man who was holding the child, and helped them both into his
car.
As the reporter stepped on the accelerator, racing to the
hospital, the man holding the bleeding child said, "Hurry, my friend, my
child is still alive."
A moment or two later, "Hurry, my friend, my child
is still breathing."
A moment later, "Hurry, my friend, my child is still
warm."
Finally, "Hurry. Oh my God, my child is getting
cold."
When they got to the hospital, the little girl had died.
As the two men were in the lavatory, washing the blood off their hands and
their clothes, the man turned to the reporter and said, "This is a
terrible task for me. I must go tell her father that his child is dead. He will
be heartbroken."
The reporter was amazed. He looked at the grieving man
and said, "I thought she was your child."
The man looked back and said, "No, but aren't they
all our children?"
(Author and source unknown)
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