1. --
Lanie LeBlanc OP
2. --
Dennis Keller
3. --
Paul O'Reilly SJ
4. --(Your
reflection can be here!)
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1.
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Lent 3A 2023
In my little corner of the world, it seems that not much
has changed since the people grumbled long ago against God
as noted in our first reading. Then as now, God lavishes
blessings upon us, yet we thirst for more. The "more", like
water, seems mostly to be what we need, not only just what
we want to have. Obviously, there is a dis-connect. Our
limited view is not God's all encompassing one.
God will continue to provide for us. Will we continue to
grumble and lose sight of those blessings? A better
understanding of God's ways and a re-reading of our second
reading from the letter to the Romans is a good way to
decrease those negative chances and more likely increase our
desire and ability to "boast in hope of the glory of God."
Taking an inventory of our past and current blessings as
well as trying to remove our desire for the "more" and
"right now" will bring us closer to the reality that "hope
does not disappoint." Most of what I want involves the
removal of the uncertainty of what life brings, something
that is only within God's grasp. Reviewing the pattern of
blessings in my life, however, brings me a new notion of the
peacefulness I seek and closer to it.
Like the woman at the well, living water is what I truly
seek. It is available 24/7 from ABOVE, thanks to Jesus, our
Redeemer. Let us pray that we can each revisit the well of
the Word for continual nourishment and hope more regularly.
May the hope that the world seeks be evident in us so that
others who thirst may seek it for themselves as well. May we
all better recognize the overflowing blessings God sends,
both now in this world and eternally in Heaven.
Blessings,
Dr. Lanie
LeBlanc OP
Southern
Dominican Laity
lanie@leblanc.one
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2.
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Third Sunday of Lent March 12. 2023
Exodus 17:3-7; Responsorial Psalm 95; Romans 5:1-2
& 5-8; Gospel Acclamation John 4:42 & 15; John 4:5-22
This Sunday there are two evident themes. The first one
is about barriers to relationships. The second about the
wonder of water which slakes our thirst. Because it’s Lent
and a time for considering barriers to unifying
relationships this reflection on the theme of water is
short. Water, as we know from gardening, lawn care, trees in
both well-watered places as well and especially in arid
regions where a bit of water causes deserts to bloom
magnificently, is life giving. The water in John’s Gospel is
about life, vitality enhancing, and cleansing the senses to
encounter God in every bit of creation, especially in self
and other persons. Recall that John’s gospel contains two
narratives about water: this one this Sunday about water
from a dug well. That well was dug by an ancestor in faith
and so deep it requires a bucket to bring it up to where it
can be used. Is that not itself a truth about our faith? Our
ancestors accepted faith in their hearts and passed it along
in their DNA transmitted in their progeny. The second story
about water comes in the very first part of John’s gospel at
the wedding at Cana in which water’s potential is revealed
in common uncleansed twenty-gallon stone water jars used for
washing dirt off hands and feet that have walked in dust and
other things on the way to celebration. That water became
the finest wine, well equipped to add to the celebration of
commitment, of potential for new life, and for relaxing so
as to remove barriers to conversation and celebration.
The Gospel and the first reading push the notion that
humanity thrives on barriers. Barriers keep us separated,
away from one another, away from inclusion. It’s like an
insurmountable fence that either keeps us out of the
neighbor’s pasture or else keeps us from wandering and
discovering what’s out there in the wider world. It
separates us from one another and is the energy that
justifies condemnations of "them."
The Exodus reading reveals Moses and Aaron shouted at by
the tribes. It is a lack of faith in God’s providence that
is the barrier between leadership and the tribes. We might
think it was lack of water. But in truth, it was a lack of
faith by the people who had experienced the ten plagues that
harassed the Pharoah into allowing the Hebrew people to
leave their slavery. The crossing of the Red Sea, the death
of the first born in Egypt whose doorways were not sealed
with the blood of an innocent lamb, and the defeat of
Pharoah’s charioteers were signs to the people of God’s
presence and support. How quickly they forgot in their
thirst and hunger that God wasn’t abandoning them in an
inhospitable desert. Their barrier was the lack of faith
even after the experience of God’s continuing presence. But
there’s more to the story. Moses and Aaron had been filled
to their breaking point with the constant bickering and
complaining of the tribes. In striking the rock with his
staff, Moses shouted to the crowd that the water that was
soon to appear was his and Aaron’s doing. The constant
pressure from the crowd created a barrier in the minds and
hearts of Moses and Aaron, removing God from the miracle of
water from the rock. Think of that – a rock filled with
enough water to satisfy the thirst of many tens of thousands
of persons and their livestock as well! At Meribah, these
chosen of God, people and leadership, who failed in faith.
It was their Massah, their CONTENTION with God. Moses and
Aaron should have known better, and demonstrated patience
with God’s interventions. Because of their failure, God did
not allow them to enter the Promised Land. Aaron died before
the crossing and was buried in the mountains. Moses was
permitted to see the promised land from the top of a
mountain. When he died, he was buried in a secret grave,
unknown to the tribes. These barriers to God came welled up
in the hearts of the people and their leadership. God was
not the source of these barriers. Lent is a great time to
examine the barriers that reside in our hearts that prevent
and damage our relationships with God, with self, and most
certainly with others.
The gospel narrative this Sunday exposes many barriers.
In the last part of chapter three of John’s gospel we hear
of a "Jew" – not called a Pharisee, a Scribe, a Sadducee,
not even a high priest – who informs John the Baptist that
he has competition. Perhaps this "Jew" was interested in
taking John and Jesus down a notch or two because of the
popularity of each. If he could instill jealousy, the
message of John and Jesus would become questionable. John
did not rise to the bait. As we begin chapter four, Jesus
comes to know that the Pharisees noticed the disciples of
Jesus were baptizing more persons than John. The Pharisees
used the law as a barrier to listening to and understanding
the message of repentance. They believed in their hearts
that a competition would discredit both John and Jesus.
Jesus decides to leave Judea and go back to Galilee rather
than allow the Pharisees an unjust victory. Jesus chooses to
take the quickest of two possible routes. The longer one is
to the east of the Dead Sea. The shorter route is through
Samaria. Thus, the scene is set for this Sunday gospel
narrative.
Jesus was about to run into the four century old bitter
contention between Jews and Samaritans. Some four hundred
years earlier, Assyria conquered Samaria and exiled all the
Israelites they could round up. There remained a significant
number of Israelites who intermarried with foreigners from
five other nations exiled from their own Assyrian conquered
homelands. Because of intermarriage, the Jews considered
these people contaminated and unworthy to be God’s chosen.
After the Jews returned from their own Babylonian captivity,
these Samaritans volunteered to help the Jews with labor and
materials to rebuild the temple of Solomon that had been
destroyed. The Jews made a fuss about rejecting the
assistance, firming up the barriers. It is into this
division Jesus comes, exhausted, thirsty, and hungry. All
the disciples went into the nearby village to find food,
leaving Jesus alone, exhausted and thirsty from his journey
from Judea. Even here there is a barrier John wants us to
consider. We believe Jesus is divine. John insists on that
throughout his gospel. But here, John demonstrates to us
that Jesus is human. He is exhausted, he is thirsty, and he
needs food, traits experienced by every human. John destroys
a barrier. Jesus is one of us in his humanity.
Then comes this Samaritan woman, alone, in the very heat
of the day, avoiding the companionship of other women from
the village. Historians believe there was a water well in
the village. Why was she coming out of the village a
distance, in the heat of the day. A barrier to companionship
with other women is likely because of her tattered and
sinful past. She experiences exclusion from the society of
others because of her reputation. She was surprised Jesus
would speak with her, even more so that she would be asked
for a favor. A barrier is being shattered. The barrier
between Jew and Samaritan is that barrier. Where is the
correct place of worship, In Samaria or Jerusalem? Jesus
destroys that barrier – anywhere is an appropriate place to
worship the Father. Not only the place of worship but also
that God is Father to Jew and Samaritan as well.
When the woman realized Jesus was special, she spoke
about the coming Messiah. Jesus’ answer was, "I am," that
term Yahweh used to identify Himself with Moses at the
burning bush that was not consumed. Yet another barrier
relieved when Jesus reveals to her that he is Messiah to her
and thus to Samaria as well as Judea.
All these barriers are destroyed so the unity among God
and many diverse peoples is possible. Yet one final barrier
among many others in this narrative. When the disciples
return with food, the woman returns to the village to
proclaim her encounter, admitting, actually empowered by her
conversation with Jesus to confess to the villagers her
failings. "He told me everything that I’ve done." Even
though the villagers had known of her failings, her
admission freed her from her self-imposed secrets. She could
be accepted by the villagers because barriers were removed
by her confession. And the villagers came to see Jesus and
hear him. And they believed.
The disciples, burdened with the prejudice against
Samaritans, couldn’t believe their eyes. Even so, the as
they engaged with the villagers the barriers in their hearts
dissipated. It’s difficult to retain prejudice when the
other becomes a person. The disciples began to understand
the mission of Jesus to all nations. It was only a
beginning, but the ice had been broken.
This is the beginning of the third week of Lent. Let’s
make this week a time for examining barriers in our hearts
preventing us from caring about persons we encounter. Let’s
us review the depths of our hearts in thinking about others
living in our communities, in our church assemblies, in our
nation, and in our world. All are children of God, all are
created in God’s image and likeness. All are unique, and all
are thirsty and hungry for love, purpose, and meaning. Let
us gather at that deep well available to us in the faith of
our ancestors as contained in our Scriptures and Liturgies.
Dennis
Keller
dkeller002@nc.rr.com
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3.
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Year A: 3rd Sunday in Lent
"I have food to eat that you do not know about."
[John 4.32]
Why is it that we fast in Lent? Is hunger a good thing?
Certainly starvation is one of the world’s great evils.
Around the world, 200 million people will go hungry today. I
come from a country where - not so very long ago – more than
a million people died of hunger. Don’t tell us that hunger
is a good thing!
But a little hunger can be a good thing. A little hunger
reminds us that human food and drink sustains us only for a
short time. We need something deeper to sustain us into
eternal life. That is why we come to the Eucharist. Well, I
want to tell you about the day when I really came to
understand that.
Exactly thirty-one years ago, almost to the day, I set
out with a good friend on a pilgrimage by bicycle from the
Holy Island of Lindisfarne in the top right hand corner of
England to Land’s End, in the bottom right hand corner of
England. So the whole journey was the length of England - a
journey of, according to the route we took (for which I was
not responsible), more than a thousand miles from the top to
the bottom of England.
{That probably sounds to you like an odd sort of
pilgrimage and so it was. I think we initially wanted to do
Lands End to John O’Groats, but we didn’t have the time. So
then we thought about Lands End to Lindisfarne, which sounds
about right and the Holy Island of Lindisfarne sounds like
the sort of place you might want to do a pilgrimage to. But,
for some reason, it was easier to start at Lindisfarne and
come down to Lands End. I think we thought it would be more
downhill if we went that way. So we ended up doing a
pilgrimage from Lindisfarne to Lands End – which, as a
pilgrimage – makes no sense at all. And it was longer than
it should have been because my friend on the road was in
charge of planning the route and insisted on our going
through Salisbury.}
It was a good trip, but we had a lot of tough days. And
the toughest of all came in the Peak District. Now, my
friends, I ask you as fair minded impartial judges, if you
were asked to plan a cycle route through the length of
England, and you came to a place on the map called the Peak
District, don’t you think that’s something you should be
going around rather than over? I mean, the clue is in name,
right? Well, my friend, if he thought at all, thought
differently. So over the top we had to go.
So, on this dreadful day, after about ten hours hard
riding through what felt like a wall of cold bitter rain, we
came to a little village high in the Peak District called
Matlock to stay the night. We were tired; we were miserable;
we were cold; we were wet; we were hungry; we were thirsty;
we were unhappy; we were bickering; we were arguing; we were
fighting – for two lads who were supposed to be on
pilgrimage, that is just so not a good look. And neither of
us could remember why we were doing this stupid pilgrimage
in the first place. But it was an important feast day -
Corpus Christi – the Feast of the Eucharist and at that time
they always had it on a Thursday and it was a Holy Day of
Obligation. So, just about the one thing we could still
agree on was that the first thing we wanted to do was to go
to Mass. Now, to give my friend his due, he had at least
planned for this bit. We had planned to be in Matlock on
this day. We knew there was a church in Matlock. And we knew
there was a priest in the village. And we knew where he
lived. So as soon as we had parked up the bikes, we went and
knocked on his door. He opened the door and we could see
immediately that he was angry at being disturbed - well
maybe he had been doing something important. But we asked,
"Is there a Mass?" And he said, "No, it was earlier - you’ve
missed it; come back tomorrow."
We didn’t say anything, but I think he could see to look
at us that we were terribly disappointed. So, he changed his
mind and he said he would offer a short Mass specially for
us. So he brought us into the chapel and began the Mass. At
the start, you could feel the anger and impatience in his
every word and gesture. You could see it boiling up inside
him. But as the Mass went on, you could see the Holy Spirit
working in him, bringing him gradually to peace. His words
became slower; his gestures more solemn and reverent. And he
really began to pray the Mass. We prayed with him. We
received communion and stayed to pray for a little while.
And then we went on our way. And as we left, he said
something, something beautiful, something which touched me,
something that made me know that I too wanted to be a priest
- he said, "Thank you - Thank you for being hungry for the
Eucharist."
