Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Year C
Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Year C (pdf)
Spiritual Reflection
And one of them, realizing he had been healed, returned, glorifying God in a loud voice; and he fell at the feet of Jesus and he thanked him. He was a Samaritan. Lk17:15
Blessed are you for my life
It reverberates in me like soft music, this magnificent saying of St. Clare of Assisi at the moment of her death, words that I would like to repeat at my own death: “Blessed are you, my God for having given me life!” In order to utter such words, one needs to have loved life, to have loved it in spite of trials and sufferings. Those words reconcile us with the other image that we sometimes made of Christianity and holiness. The neurotic or masochistic image of which we are, at times, prisoners, speaks only of suffering in this poor life so, as a result, we should not love life too much since it is a valley of tears, and we should only be waiting for another life.
As he went along, Francis of Assisi would be singing a hymn to Creation, chatting with birds, stroking a wolf, sleeping under the stars, in nature brimmed with flowers under an Italian sky. Here is a refreshing image of holiness. True holiness is an explosion, a poem, a wonderment and a jubilation. It tears the old skins to allow us to drink from the new and sparkling wine that revives us. St. Teresa of Avila asked her sisters to dance in the hallways of Carmel, speaking to God with a total abandon. Once, she answered a sister who told her of a novice who was having visions: “Well, cut her short, feed her some good chicken, and if her visions persist, bring her to me!” And Francis of Assisi undressed, naked as the day he was born, in front of the bishop of Assisi and his own father, with such simplicity and naivety that the people were touched. Then he said: “Now I have a father, Our Father in heaven.” He traveled to Rome with his spiritual sons, wandering on the roads and repeating: “The Lord asks me to be a fool in this world.” Francis loved life, sang about life, he, the poet of creation. In spite of his defects, his fragility, and the narcissism of his youth, his life is a masterpiece of grace, and he remains the model of a saint who touches our hearts today. . .
We are afraid to live and, at times, even to love life. Some Christians falsely think that loving life does not appear spiritual enough and one would almost need to disdain joy, pleasure, livelihood…
What happens when we do not live? We become tense like the “older son” of the parable, we are consumed by our duty, but without joy, and become jealous of these “prodigal sons” who come from afar but are transformed by Forgiveness. We then take refuge behind rules and principles which are often only human precepts and provide a false security. Frustrated and discouraged by the high standard we have pursued, we are interiorly irritated (at best consciously, or at worst, unconsciously) with ourselves, with others and, sometimes, with God. We live in a sort of existential emptiness that we find difficult to understand, and we tend to fill this emptiness in many different ways.
André Daigneault, The Long Journey toward Serenity, p.64-65;80-81
References from the Catechism of the Catholic Church
2097 To adore God is to acknowledge, in respect and absolute submission, the "nothingness of the creature" who would not exist but for God. To adore God is to praise and exalt him and to humble oneself, as Mary did in the Magnificat, confessing with gratitude that he has done great things and holy is his name.14 The worship of the one God sets man free from turning in on himself, from the slavery of sin and the idolatry of the world.
2781 When we pray to the Father, we are in communion with him and with his Son, Jesus Christ.33 Then we know and recognize him with an ever-new sense of wonder. The first phrase of the Our Father is a blessing of adoration before it is a supplication. For it is the glory of God that we should recognize him as "Father," the true God. We give him thanks for having revealed his name to us, for the gift of believing in it, and for the indwelling of his Presence in us.
1360 The Eucharist is a sacrifice of thanksgiving to the Father, a blessing by which the Church expresses her gratitude to God for all his benefits, for all that he has accomplished through creation, redemption, and sanctification. Eucharist means first of all "thanksgiving."
Questions for Reflection
1. In my daily life, how often do I turn away from the “gift” I receive in whatever form it may take, from a mere smile to an overwhelming blessing? How constant is my thanksgiving?
2. What is my reaction when I discover sadness instead of joy in my daily circumstances or that of others?
3. How can I envision Mary at my side singing the Magnificat together with me? Do I pray for this grace of joy and wonderment?
Prayer after Sharing
Thank you, God, for allowing me to see the truth about my weaknesses and how it calls upon the abyss of your merciful Love.