Tag Archives: Saint Luke

November 4: Praying to – or through – the Saints

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We Catholics say the words at every Mass: ‘Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof.’ We know the Centurion of the lakeside garrison at Capernaum addressed them to Jesus, and they are a timely reminder of our unworthiness and sinfulness. But when Father Anthony read the passage from Luke 7 recently, I heard a subplot that I found interesting.

A certain centurion’s servant, who was dear to him, was sick and ready to die. So when he heard about Jesus, he sent elders of the Jews to Him, pleading with Him to come and heal his servant.

The Centurion does not address Jesus directly, but trusts his Jewish friends to present his plea, which they do, earnestly. The Centurion sends a second group of friends with the message:

I am not worthy that You should enter under my roof. Therefore I did not even think myself worthy to come to You. But say the word, and my servant will be healed.

It is not clear that Jesus ever entered the Centurion’s house, or met him outside. But the intercession of the Centurion’s friends to Jesus was prayer enough. The servant was healed.

At All Saints’ tide I take three lessons I take from this story: firstly, to pray for others, as the Centurion’s friends do; secondly, to be open to praying to the saints, and thirdly, to put this text before any evangelical friends who shy away from doing so as ‘un-Biblical’.

You don’t have to pray to the saints ( although the standard prayer in the Litany is ‘Saint N., pray for us’) – but it may help!

MMB

 

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October 29: Shoulder to shoulder

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Natasha Devon MBE is a writer on mental health issues.

I rather liked this tip for teachers:

“Practise shoulder to  shoulder communication

“Some people find eye contact too intense. If there is someone who you suspect is struggling with their mental health, but who finds it difficult to open up, try asking them to help you with carrying text books or clearing out a cupboard. They may begin to confide in you when the pressure of eye contact is removed.” *

Of course, it need not be a mental health issue, just a problem or traumatic event that someone might need to resolve.

I am reminded of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, walking shoulder to shoulder with the Answer to their problems and trauma. Their eyes were opened when he broke bread while sharing a meal with them. (Luke 24:13-35)

The meal table can be, should be, a place of peace where our eyes can be opened to each other. But physically walking alongside someone, even for a few steps, can be a moment of solidarity. Let’s be aware of opportunities as they come our way.

  • Report magazine, September 2018 p21.

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30 August: Gardeners’ Union

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I think most gardeners would line up with the one in Christ’s parable of the barren fig tree:

A certain man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came and sought fruit thereon, and found none. Then said he unto the dresser of his vineyard, Behold, these three years I come seeking fruit on this fig tree, and find none: cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground? And he answering said unto him, Lord, let it alone this year also, till I shall dig about it, and dung itAnd if it bear fruit, well: and if not, then after that thou shalt cut it down. 

Luke 13: 6-9

Four years ago that  I rescued this bench from being demolished by a willow tree falling across it.

Now, the bench would be sittable-on, were it not for the weeds, and the willow is doing its job as part of an informal hedge against the field behind and above it. A change of crop in the field beyond, and fewer rainstorms,  may both have contributed to its not being further undermined, but those vertical shoots are still vertical and almost thick enough to become fence posts if needed.

A good spot to curl up with a book, especially if you bring a scythe along with you!

And a job well done, if I say so myself.

But what happened to the fig tree, I wonder? I can’t help feeling that a few vigorous shoots would spring up from the base – as happened when I had to take out a fig some years back – and it would be inspired to fruit again. Maybe I could use some summer pruning before I enter my autumnal years?

WT

 

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4 August: One for the Road.

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I was just fidgeting to get comfortable in the crypt when she strode in, wearing stout trainers, bag on her back. A couple of coins chinked in the box, a candle was lit, and out she walked, on her way. A pilgrim, leaving her prayer behind?

A pilgrim was I too, even if I had walked little more than a mile to reach the cathedral.

Lead, kindly light, all pilgrims and travellers, especially during this holiday time. And may our hearts turn to you as you walk with us, unperceived.

MMB.

 

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June 18: So Who is my Neighbour?

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We know that Jesus and the Jewish religious leaders agreed that there were two great commandments, to Love God and to love your neighbour.

Jesus told a story to answer the question, Who is my neighbour? (Luke 10: 35ff) but he was, at root, giving the same answer as the Book of Deuteronomy, according to this article in Bible History Today by Richard Elliott Friedman: follow the link Love your neighbour .

Thoroughly worth reading!

Will.

 

 

 

 

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June 3: Corpus Christi – what a waste!

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Janet had been watching a documentary about life in the Himalayas. Amid the fierce natural beauties the programme visited a Buddhist monastery, where the monks ground rock crystals into powder which they dyed into bright colours. They used the sand to create religious symbols which would be displayed for a while, then swept away. Life is passing was the truth they held before themselves in this exercise.

Sic Transit Gloria Mundi, I might have said, but didn’t. Instead my mind went back to school days, when preparations for Corpus Christi included the enjoyable task of dying sawdust to make pictures to decorate the route of the Blessed Sacrament procession. The top picture from 1956 shows students at Saint Augustine’s College in Blacklion, Ireland, decorating the drive. The other shows the culmination of the Corpus Christi procession at the Priory, my school in Hampshire, but before my time, in 1948. The first is by Anthony Whelan, the second by Robert Clyde, both come from the website of the friends of the Missionaries of Africa: the pelicans.

Anthony’s photograph shows how these designs will be trampled underfoot. Sic transit – so many labours of love, think of wedding cakes or fireworks, are made to serve for a moment in time. Think, too, of the woman anointing the Lord’s feet with precious oil (Luke7:36-50). Or the oil the other women took to the tomb: an extravagant waste of effort/time/money, says the utilitarian.

But isn’t all we have, see, touch, taste an extravagant gift? Let’s be grateful on this day of the Eucharist, of thanksgiving. If we no longer have processions, we can celebrate with a shared meal, or even eating alone, thank God for the food and raise a glass to absent friends.

And Laudato Si!

 

MMB

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April 13: Feeling the Fire: I

We don’t follow many blogs, but Ignatius’s As a Little Child is one I am always glad to see and occasionally reply to. He put this out a few weeks ago, and has graciously allowed me to use it – and my reply – here. Over to Ignatius; a response tomorrow.

Can I honestly say, that when I look at myself or at my Church, locally or universally, that I recognise followers of Jesus, the Body of Christ, or the Kingdom of Heaven?

‘I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!’ [Lk12:49]

Where is this fire?!

I don’t see it in my life. And I rarely hear it in homilies. And I hardly see it in the Church. I start to wonder if we’ve forgotten Jesus.

There are saints amongst us, though. There are holy bishops and priests and religious and lay people, living the gospel. There are orders, and movements and organisations and just people. There are many people out there who sacrifice themselves with Jesus, living the reckless, radical love of the Father.

I just wish it were the rule. I wish that I heard this fire in every homily, and saw it in every Church activity. I wish that we were obviously so much more than a club, or an NGO. I wish that this fire was burning in all my flesh, down to the marrow. But I’ve read that all that’s needed to become a saint, is to will it. God wills it already; we just need to co-operate, accept His grace, obey His gospel.

And the truth is, there’s no real life apart from Jesus’ life. It’s a choice between life and — far worse than death– not-life. I could perhaps call it half-life, but I think not-life better captures the emptiness I’m thinking of. Or being “lukewarm”. 

 

I hope I’m not alone in feeling this way. Please pray with me, that we will together be set on Jesus-fire.

 

 

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30 March: Stations of the Cross XIII:

THIRTEENTH STATION
JESUS’ BODY IS TAKEN DOWN FOR BURIAL

Our witness is the widow of Naim. Jesus restored her son to life when he met the funeral on the way to the cemetery.
The story is told by Saint Luke,  in chapter 7, vv 11-16.


I know this man. My only son was dead. We took him out of town to say goodbye.

Jesus gave him back to me alive. Now Mary’s only son has been taken out of town and is dead.


Prayer :

God our Father, your son was taken out of town, out of sight, to be killed.

We try to hide away our sins, but we need to bring them to you and say we are sorry.

Jesus was lifted up; may we be drawn to him and follow him, even when no-one seems to see our witness to him.

Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.

Lifted up, unless a grain of wheat shall fall … , Greyfriars’ chapel, Canterbury.

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29 March, Stations of the Cross XII: Jesus Dies.

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TWELTH STATION
JESUS DIES

Dismas is the name by which  we know the repentant thief who was crucified with Jesus. He saw Jesus die and spoke to him at the last. There are many references to Jesus eating with sinners, including the call of Matthew. But read Luke 15, 1-7 which leads to the parable of the lost sheep. Saint Luke also tells of Dismas in 23:42.


I know this man. I met him before : you must have heard how he ate and drank with sinners. I was there, of course. I invited him.

That was when I began to forgive myself. He forgave me. He did not turn away. He will not turn away now.

Jesus, remember me, when you come into your Kingdom!


Let us kneel and pray in silence.

And sing : Jesus, remember me, when you come into your Kingdom.

Crucifixion in Winchester Cathedral.

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24 March, Stations of the Cross VII: Jesus Meets the Women.

BoudiccaSEVENTH STATION
JESUS MEETS THE WOMEN

James and John were with Jesus in Jerusalem, and so, no doubt was their mother, Mrs Zebedee, for it was just before Jesus  went up to Jerusalem that she asked him to give them special places in his Kingdom.

Now she sees him on the way to Calvary . . .

The story of Mrs Zebedee is told at Matthew, 20:17-23. Jesus’ meeting with the women on the Way of the Cross is told by St Luke (22.27-31).


I know this man. I followed him, him and my boys, all the way to Jerusalem.

We wouldn’t have it when he said he would be handed over and killed.
We were sure it would work out better than this. Only last Sunday the people acclaimed him, the King who comes.

Now Pilate calls him King of the Jews and sends him out to die.

I put my boys forward — any mother would — I knew they would work hard for him.

But now he tells us, weep for yourselves and your children.

Oh God, Is this the cup my boys have to drink?

CD.

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