EASTER V [B]:  Acts 9:26-31; 1Jn 3:18-24; Jn 15:1-8

 

We live in an age that tends to put a high value on independence. We like to feel that we have our destiny in our own hands. One of the aspects of reaching old age that can trouble us is the prospect of losing our independence. We want to be as independent as possible for as long as possible. Yet, we are also aware that independence is a relative thing. We know that we depend on each other in all kinds of ways all through life. We are totally dependent on others at the beginning of life, and, probably, for many of us, at the end of life as well. In between the beginning and end of life, we never escape fully from that dependency on others.

The gospel strongly proclaims our ultimate dependence on God, and also our dependence on each other, because one of the primary ways that God is present to us is through each other. The first Christians had a stronger sense of this than we do of their dependence on one another, if they were to become all that God was calling them to be. In today’s first reading, Luke describes a moment in Paul’s early life as a Christian when he was very dependent on one person in particular, Barnabas. Paul had only recently changed from being one of the most zealous persecutors of the church to being one of its most enthusiastic missionaries. He very much wanted to join the community of disciples in Jerusalem but, given his former reputation, they were all afraid of him and kept him at a distance. It took Barnabas to convince everyone that Paul was a changed person. Paul would go on to be a much more significant person in the early church than Barnabas. Yet, he was completely dependent on Barnabas to create that initial opening for him.

When Jesus says, ‘I am the vine, you are the branches’, he is addressing all the baptized. He is speaking about the very deep communion that he wants to have with each one of us, in virtue of our baptism. When we look at a fully grown vine, it can be hard to know where the stem ends and where the branches begin. Jesus was very familiar with vines; there were plenty of them in Galilee. He saw in the intimate relationship between the stem of the vine and its branches an image of the relationship he wanted to have with each of us and wanted each of us to have with him. He doesn’t say, ‘I am the vine and now you must become the branches’, but rather, ‘I am the vine and you are the branches’. He has taken the initiative to enter into this relationship with us and he will never take back his initiative. Our calling is to remain in that relationship which he has initiated with us. In the gospel reading, he calls on us to remain in him, as branches need to remain on the vine. Another way Jesus expresses this call in the gospel reading is, ‘Make your home in me, as I make mine in you’. The Lord has chosen to make his home in us, through the Holy Spirit, and now he calls on us to make our home in him.

What Jesus is doing in today’s gospel reading is reminding us that what is essential in our faith is nurturing our relationship with him, so that we can live off the sap that flows from him, just as the branches of the vine live off the sap that flows from the roots of the vine up into the stem. We might be tempted to think that a close union with Jesus is only for saints and mystics. It is a privilege that is granted to us all. Jesus knew that only our close communion with him would make it possible for us to live his life, which is a life of loving service to others. This is the fruit that Jesus speaks about in the gospel reading. ‘Whoever remains in me, with me in them, bears fruit in plenty’. Only a branch united to the vine can produce grapes and only if we are united to the Lord through faith can our lives bear the fruit of the Lord’s love.

 

It is normal for a vine to be pruned. There is nothing exceptional about the work of pruning. It is part and parcel of the life of a healthy vine, because there is always some part of the vine that needs pruning. Similarly, with our own lives, there is always a sense in which something in us needs to be pruned if we are to become all that God is calling us to be. One day, Michelangelo walking through a garden in Florence saw a block of marble in a corner protruding from the earth, half covered by grass and mud. He stopped suddenly, as if he had seen someone, and turning to friends, who were with him, exclaimed: "An angel is imprisoned in that marble; I must get him out." And, armed with a chisel, he began to work on that block until the figure of a beautiful angel emerged. God also looks at us and sees us this way: as shapeless blocks of stone. He then says to himself: "Therein is hidden a new and beautiful creature that waits to come out to the light; more than that, the image of my own son Jesus Christ is hidden there, I want to bring it out!" We are predestined to "be conformed to the image of his son" (Romans 8:29).

For the branches to bear fruit, being attached to the vine is not the only essential prerequisite, pruning is just as essential as well. A gardener understands that he needs to prune in order to help the plant realize its full potential. Through pruning, growth that is dead or dying is removed, the size and quality of the fruit are improved, and new fruit is encouraged to develop. Recognizing that unless we allow ourselves to be pruned, we may end up being barren or stagnant, let’s pray for the grace to receive and accept pruning without grumbling and stay united with the vine producing the expected fruit.  

 EASTER IV [B] SUNDAY: Acts 4:8-12; I Jn 3:1-2; Jn 10:11-18 

The fourth Sunday of Easter is known as Good Shepherd Sunday. It is also the World Day of Prayer for Vocations. Each year on this Sunday we reflect on the image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd, devotedly taking care of his flock.   In the past, we tended to restrict the term ‘vocation’ to the priesthood and the religious life. Yet, everyone in the church has a vocation, and, today, we are invited to reflect a little on the different ways in which we have each been given a vocation. Each of us is called by God. We all find ourselves standing before the call of God.

The particular way the Lord calls us and works through us will be unique to each one of us. I can do something for the Lord that only I can do. Each one of us has a unique contribution to make to the work of the Lord in the church and in the world, and that contribution is just as important as anyone else’s contribution. We each have a unique vocation and each vocation is equally significant. When we each respond to our own unique vocation, we are supporting others in their response to the unique call of the good shepherd to them.

The theme that the Pope has chosen for this Vocation Sunday is ‘vocation to service’. Each one of us, in different ways, has been given the vocation to service. In his message for this Vocations Sunday the Pope reminds us that Jesus is the perfect model of the ‘servant’. He is the one who came not to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many. In the words of today’s gospel reading, he is the good shepherd who lays down his life for his flock. All that he received from God he gave to others, he gave for others. This is at the heart of our own vocation to service too. All that we have and all that we are we have received from God, and we are called to place what we have received at the service of others.

The Pope in his message for this Vocations Sunday states that service is possible for everyone, through gestures that seem small, but, are, in reality, great, if they are animated by sincere love. The ways in which we live out our vocation to service can often be small and hidden. We give something of ourselves in service to someone. What we give may seem insignificant – a listening ear, a word of encouragement, a small gesture of some kind, what the gospel calls in one place a ‘cup of cold water’. We don’t have to think of service in terms only of the big commitment, the huge undertaking, or the absorbing task. It is in that relatively small space that most of our vocation to service is to be lived. The way we live out our vocation to service in that space will not make headlines, and may never become known beyond a small circle. Yet, as the Pope says in his message, when interpersonal relationships are inspired by mutual service a new world is created.  

In the gospel reading Jesus says that he is the good shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep. Perhaps one of the reasons why the image appealed to Christians from earliest times is because it conveyed something of the personal nature of the relationship between Jesus and his followers. The image of the good shepherd carrying the straying sheep on his shoulders conveys a sense of the close personal connection that the shepherd has with his individual sheep. He declares that he knows his own and his own know him, just as the Father knows him and he knows the Father. It is an extraordinary statement to make. Jesus is saying that the relationship that he has with each one of us is as intimate as the very personal relationship that he has with his heavenly Father. Jesus knows us as intimately as the Father knows him. When it comes to the Lord we are not just one of a crowd, lost in a sea of faces. In a way that we will never fully understand, the Lord knows each one of us by name. We only really know those we love. It is because the Lord loves each of us so completely that he knows each of us so fully. Saint Paul expresses this conviction in his letter to the Galatians saying, ‘I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me’. We can each make our own those words of Saint Paul.

 

The first reading declares that the stone that was rejected by the builders proved to be the keystone. There is a clear reference there to Jesus himself. He was the rejected one who became the keystone of a new family, the church. There is a sense in which the Lord sees each of us as the keystone for some aspect of his mission. We are all key to the Lord’s work, and he calls each of us by name from the first moment of our conception to share in that work. On this Vocations Sunday let’s commit ourselves anew to hearing and responding to the call of the good shepherd. With trust and confidence, let’s join the psalmist in praying: The Lord is my Shepherd, there is nothing I shall want.

 

 

 OT II [B] I Sam 3:3b-10, 19; I Cor 6:13c-15a, 17-20; Jn 1:35-42

A stranger once asked a teacher, “What’s your profession?” The teacher replied, “Christian,” The stranger continued, “No, that’s not what I mean. What’s your job?” The teacher asserted, once again, “I’m a Christian!” Puzzled, the stranger clarified, “Perhaps I should ask, what do you do for a living?” The teacher replied, “Well, I’ve a full-time job as a Christian. But, to support my sick husband and children, I teach in a school.” — That teacher had certainly understood the meaning of discipleship summarised by today’s Responsorial Psalm (40): “Here I am, Lord, I come to do Your will.”  What is that God wants us to do? The characters in the Scripture reading will help us to find out.

John the Baptist recognized himself as someone called to prepare the way for the Greater one coming after him. He saw the Spirit coming down on Jesus and revealed to him that Jesus was the chosen Son of God. Far from keeping that discovery to himself, he shared it with his own disciples, even though he knew that in doing so, he was going to lose them to Jesus. He pointed two of his disciples in the direction of Jesus. A short while later, one of those two disciples, Andrew, did for his brother, Peter, what John the Baptist had done for him. He led his brother to Jesus. In the first reading, Eli did something similar for Samuel, helping him to hear God’s call. The readings this Sunday put before us three people, John the Baptist, Andrew and Eli, each of whom, in different ways, led others to the one who is the source of life. They all lived to do God’s will.

We could probably all identify a John the Baptist or an Andrew or an Eli in our own lives, people who, in some way or another, brought us to the Lord, or helped us to recognize and receive the Lord who was present to us. We might think first of our own parents who brought us to the baptismal font. As early as possible into our lives they wanted to say to us what John the Baptist said to his disciples, ‘Look, there is the lamb of God’. Then, as we began to grow, they helped us to know the Lord whose followers we had become in baptism, bringing us to the church, praying with us, reading stories from the gospels to us, taking us to see the crib at Christmas, placing an image of the Lord or of one of the saints in our room, helping us to prepare for the sacraments of the Eucharist and Confirmation. If we were fortunate, we might have had a good religion teacher at school who took us a step further in our relationship with the Lord, who enabled us to ‘come and see’, in the words of the gospel reading today.

Samuel, who was led to the Lord by Eli, is described in the first reading as a boy. However, the two disciples who were led to the Lord by John the Baptist and Peter, who was led there by Andrew, were all adults. It was as adults that they allowed themselves to be directed towards the person of Jesus. In our adult years, we too may have met people who helped us to grow in our relationship with the Lord.

At any time in our adult life we can meet a John the Baptist who says to us, ‘Look, there is the Lamb of God’, and that can happen to us over and over again, right up to the very end of our lives. The Lord never ceases to call us through others. At no point does he say, this person no longer needs a John the Baptist. There may indeed come a time when the Lord asks any one of us to be a John the Baptist or an Andrew or an Eli for somebody else. We hear the call to share our faith in some way, to open a door to the Lord for others. Our response to such a call can take many different forms. For Eli it took the very simple form of saying the right word to Samuel when it was needed.

Today is a day to give thanks for all those who introduced us to the Lord, who played the role in our lives that Eli played in the life of Samuel, that Andrew played in the life of Peter, that Peter played in the life of many others, and that, later on in John’s gospel, the Samaritan woman played in the life of her townspeople, and that Mary Magdalene played in the life of the other disciples on East Sunday morning. Both these women played a significant role in bringing others to the Lord. Each of us is called to bring others to the Lord, perhaps just one person. We don’t have to be great missionaries to introduce someone to the Lord. Very often, our own quiet and faithful witness to the Lord and his way of life will, in time, bear that rich fruit for others.

But let’s realize the fact that before bearing witness, we should know the one we are going to bear witness, to know Christ, the lamb of God. Knowing Jesus is a matter of personal and first-hand experience of Jesus, which is obtained through the meditative reading and study of the Bible, through personal and family prayers, and through the Sacraments, especially by participation in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, and primarily in the Eucharistic celebration.

Once we have experienced the personal presence of Jesus in our daily lives, we will start sharing with others the Good News of the love, peace, justice, tolerance, mercy, and forgiveness that Jesus preached. May the Lord help us to have a dynamic and living experience of Jesus, which will enable us to invite and encourage people to come and participate in our Church activities.

 EPIPHANY OF THE LORD: Is 60:1-6; Eph 3:2-3a, 5-6; Mt 2:1-12 

 

The feast of the Epiphany is the celebration of the Lord’s manifestation to all peoples, represented by the Magi, who came from the East to adore the King of the Jews.  The adoration of the Magi fulfils the oracle of Isaiah in the first reading, prophesying that the nations of the world would travel to the Holy City following a brilliant light and would bring gold and incense to contribute to the worship of God.

 

In the ancient world, the appearance of a new star or a comet was often associated with the birth or death of a great ruler. According to our gospel reading, when these magi from the east noticed a new star rising, they associated it with the birth of the long-awaited King of the Jews, and so they set out in search of this child. Their fascination with the wonders of creation launched them on a spiritual journey, a pilgrimage. They left their home and set out on a long journey, guided by the new star they had seen rising. There is something of the searcher, the seeker, in each one of us. There is always some restlessness within us, a restlessness of the spirit and of the heart. Saint Augustine said that our hearts are restless until they rest in God. That spiritual restlessness often sends us forth on pilgrimages to places that have been touched by God in some special way. We leave home, if only for a few days or weeks, and we set out to a holy place where we sense we will meet the Lord or the Lord will meet us. Even if we never set out on a physical pilgrimage, like the magi, we will always be giving expression to this spiritual restlessness within us, this deep-rooted desire to come closer to God. It is this restlessness which inspires us to pray, brings us to Mass and to the sacraments.

 

As well as being aware of our searching spirit, we can also be aware of being drawn by the one for whom we search. Jesus says of himself that he came to seek out the lost. His search for us is prior to our search for him, and our search for him is ultimately in response to his search of us, his searching love. The Lord drew the magi to himself through a star. The Lord drew them to himself from within the world with which they were familiar, astrology, the world of the night sky. The Lord often draws us to himself from within the world that is familiar to us.

 

The magi came to a point on their journey when they needed more than the signs of nature to find the child whom they were seeking. When they came to Jerusalem, they had to ask, ‘Where is the infant king of the Jews?’ To make the last short step on their long journey, they needed more than the light of a star. They needed the light of the Scriptures. The chief priests and the scribes who knew the Scriptures were able to point them in the direction of Bethlehem. On our own journey towards the Lord, we too need the light of the Scriptures as well as the light of nature. The Scriptures are a fuller revelation of God than the natural world. It is in and through the Scriptures that we meet God and his Son in a special way. Through the Scriptures, God speaks to us in a privileged way. God asks us to listen to his word and to allow our lives to be shaped by what we hear. The wise men allowed themselves to be guided by the Scriptures, as well as by the star. They displayed the kind of responsiveness to God’s word to which we are all called.

 

Having been moved by the presence of God in nature and in the Scriptures, the wise men came face to face with God in the form of a child newly born to a young couple. The wise men did not worship the star; they did not even worship the Scriptures. But they did worship the child, because they recognized that here in these simple surroundings was Emmanuel, God-with-us. We too worship Emmanuel, and we do so in a special way every time we celebrate the Eucharist. The wise men expressed their worship by offering the child their precious gifts. They gave generously. We too express our own worship of the Lord in the Eucharist by offering him gifts, and the most precious gift we can offer is the gift of ourselves. In the Eucharist we are invited to give ourselves to the Lord, in response to the Lord’s giving of himself to us as bread of life. We say, ‘Here I am. I want to do your will’, in response to his saying to us, ‘This is my body. Take and eat’.

 

After worshipping the child, the wise men returned home by a different way. Their meeting with the infant king of the Jews somehow changed them. Their journey away from Bethlehem was different to their journey to Bethlehem. Our own worship of the Lord in the Eucharist will often prompt us to take a different path too. We come to the Eucharist open to being changed in some way by our meeting with the Lord. We are sent out from the Eucharist to follow the way of the Lord more closely.

The magi only came to Bethlehem once. We come to the Eucharist often. We do so because, like the magi, we are seekers. We come to the Eucharist to seek the Lord. In the words of a modern hymn, we want to know him more clearly, to love him more dearly and to follow him more nearly. Our seeking of the Lord is a response to his seeking of us, his calling out to us. We pray on this feast of the Epiphany that we would be as responsive to the Lord’s call as the wise men from the East were.