Many times when we read the Gospels, we run into apparent non sequiturs. We might sit there puzzling for quite some time over what Jesus’ words mean and why he chose those particular words in response to that particular question or situation. Apparent non sequiturs are always a good place to dig in.
The fourth Sunday of Lent is also called Laetare Sunday, a name taken from the first words of the traditional entrance antiphon for this Sunday, “Rejoice, O Jerusalem.” This Sunday is intended by Mother Church to be a moment of encouragement near the halfway point of the Lenten season traditionally marked by a variety of penitential practices that can weigh us down along the way. To mark this day at Mass, the altar may be decorated with flowers, more robust music sung and rose-colored vestments worn. Laetare Sunday is an invitation to rejoice because we have progressed through a good portion of our Lenten observances and our Easter celebrations are drawing near.
As we follow Christ further into the wilderness of Lent, our Gospel for this Sunday presents us with a bit of a surprise: The transfiguration. We might have expected a passage about prayer, fasting, or almsgiving, or perhaps repentance. Instead, we have Mark 9:2-10, where Peter, James and John behold the glory of God radiating through Christ’s humanity.
We are just a month out from the end of the Christmas season, yet we have in our Gospel today a powerful example of childlike faith. A leper comes up to Jesus, kneels down and pleads, “If you wish, you can make me clean.”
The Gospel for this Sunday presents us with a flurry of activity, set at the beginning of Christ’s public life. In the space of a few lines, the Lord Jesus has healed Simon’s mother-in-law, healed the diseases of the crowd, cast out many demons, gone to spend the night in prayer, been pursued by the whole town and gone on to preach elsewhere. We see here the dynamism and urgency of the love he bears toward the people of Galilee and, through them, toward us as well. Yet there are strange things tucked away in this continuous stream of ministry, and we would do well not to miss them.
Repeatedly throughout the Gospels, those who hear Jesus are struck by a stark difference between his message and those of other contemporary religious authorities. The words typically used to describe the Lord’s message are power and authority. Unlike others in the world, Christ’s preaching and message has power to move mountains and heal hearts, authority to command, commend, save, transform and transfigure. Jesus has this power and authority because he is the Author, he is God. All of history is really his story, and it is in his creative Word that we live and move and have our being. Without Christ, we can do nothing. His power is the literal omnipotence of God, and his word bears the mark of authority because it is none other than the eternal Word of God.
“Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Hearing those few words, the two brothers Simon and Andrew immediately leave their nets and follow Jesus. Then Jesus calls another set of brothers, and James and John also follow him. Just like that, these four men begin on the “way.”
The pandemic has turned our world upside down. Sometimes it feels like we are athletic shoes being tossed around in the clothes dryer, rather disoriented and out of control. Our normal life and routines have been completely disrupted. During moments of great turmoil or change, we often ask about the meaning of life.
Each year, on the Sunday following Christmas, we celebrate the feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Our Gospel reading this year from Luke presents us with a fascinating window into their actual family life. Here, we catch a glimpse of the presentation of Jesus in the Temple of Jerusalem:
The annunciation is one of the most commonly depicted scenes in sacred art. It is a scene on which we Catholics often meditate, whether we are looking at an image of it or we are praying the rosary or the Angelus. As we near the end of the Advent season, let us consider the annunciation not as something that we merely think about but as something that we can touch. That is, let us consider it with a sacramental worldview.
