A TALE OF TWO SONS

On Sunday, September 27, 2026, we hear the following parable:

"A man had two sons..."

Jesus said to the chief priests and elders of the people: "What is your opinion? A man had two sons. He came to the first and said, 'Son, go out and work in the vineyard today.' He said in reply, 'I will not,' but afterwards changed his mind and went.

The man came to the other son and gave the same order. He said in reply, 'Yes, sir, 'but did not go.

Which of the two did his father's will?" They answered, "The first." 

Here are are some thoughts by a respected French theologian, Yves de Montcheuil:

This parable alludes in the first place to the Jews and the Gentiles; but it also applies to each one of us we said “yes“ when we recognized the legitimacy of God‘s law and promised to submit to it; but very often we go on living as before, without troubling ourselves about the will of God. 

We think we live in the kingdom because our “yes“ was once sincere, and yet the force of daily habit, an alludes, the will of God who is calling us to the kingdom. Often perhaps his will, and our action coincide, but when a discrepancy arises between his will, and hours, it is the latter which carries the day; we obey our own wishes and whims.

Now life in the kingdom does not merely consist in putting one’s name down for it. Entry into the kingdom requires of us a continuing and living desire to accept God‘s will for us at each moment of our life. It is a “yes“ said over and over again.

In practice, though, it is our unfaithfulness which is repeated.

I was intrigued by the idea that I have both sons in myself, and hope that you, too, may find this reflection useful. 

IT'S IN YOUR HANDS

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The Gospel for this Sunday is Mt 14:13-21, Matthew's  account of the miracle of the loaves and fishes . It begins this way:

When it was evening, the disciples approached him and said, “This is a deserted place and it is already late; dismiss the crowds so that they can go to the villages and buy food for themselves.” Jesus said to them, “There is no need for them to go away; give them some food yourselves.” But they said to him, “Five loaves and two fish are all we have here.” Then he said, “Bring them here to me,” and he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, and looking up to heaven, he said the blessing, broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, who in turn gave them to the crowds.

It's in Your Hands...

Meditate for a few minutes on the word in bold type above, Jesus' command to his disciples, "give them some food yourselves.” Of course, Jesus must certainly know that they don't have any food with them. So what's behind this strange request? In the context of the story, it turns out to be a challenge. a sort of prophecy of what they'll be doing for the rest of their lives as apostles, namely sharing with others out of their own nothingness, the Good News of the Kingdom. They have no training, no particular aptitude for the task, and yet they are sent out to give to the world the priceless treasure of the Good News.

In troubled times when you and I afraid that we’re at the end of our strength and can’t do any more, the Lord asks us to give Him the little that we have; he then blesses it and gives it right back to us to use, especially to use for helping others. 

With the arrival of the new freshmen and the start of a new school year this past week, I couldn't help thinking back to the summer of 1973, when we re-opened St. Benedict's Prep with incredibly thin resources on every front. The best we could do was to place our dream in God's hands, trusting that we were doing what He as calling us to do, that we were hearing Jesus say, "give them some food yourselves.”

May this miracle story give us the courage to hand our weaknesses and faults to Jesus with the expectation of getting them back transformed!

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EMPTY-HANDED

In this Sunday’s gospel, Jesus tells three parables of the kingdom. The parable about the merchant in search of fine pearls who finds the pearl of great price. 

Then there’s the fellow who finds a treasure buried in a field, and goes and sells everything he has to purchase the field. The third one is slightly different. It’s the one, you may remember, about the net cast into the sea that brings in all sorts of fish, and the man has to sit down and sort through the fish, keeping the good ones and casting the other ones aside. 

Jesus ends this short series of three parables with a question: “Do you understand all these things?" What's behind his question?

I think that his idea is that none of these parables, especially the first two, ends when someone discovers a valuable pearl or a hidden treasure. That’s not the point of these parables. 

No, the point is that each of these people then has to act. More than that, in fact, he has to give up everything to possess the pearl or the treasure. And it’s this giving up part, I think, that Jesus is referring to when he asks his disciples. “Do you understand all these things?“ Do you understand what it will cost you to possess the kingdom?

In the first two parables we are given models of people who give up everything for the sake of the Kingdom. They sell everything they have!

So these two parables pose a real challenge for you and me. I feel blessed that the Lord has called me to belong to the Kingdom of Heaven. But, h ow much am I willing to give up in order to enter the Kingdom? I can’t just walk in as my old self, with my old attitudes towards possessions, with my judgments about other people, and my selfishness, and so forth. 

The parables challenge you and me to let go of all of those things in order to possess the Kingdom, the pearl of great price, the treasure that is ours for the taking.

Let us ask the Lord, who promises us the Kingdom, to give each of us the strength to let go of everything else so that we can join Him in the Kingdom of Heaven.

I saw this little incident on the bus the other day as I was returning from an errand. 

As I climb up the steep steps onto the bus, I immediately see this tiny lady, easily ninety years old, sitting in the first seat right behind the driver. In front of her is a four wheel upright shopping cart filled with all sorts of things.

Since I’m walking with my cane, I’m happy to plop myself into an empty seat nearby. After a few blocks we come to the bus stop at the corner of Broad and Market, and she gets to her feet and, pushing her cart in front of her, she makes her way slowly past the driver and stops at the edge of the steep steps.

Then the next thing I know she is starting to step backwards down the steps toward the street, leaving her cart at the top step, but holding onto it. Although I get the impression that she has done this many times before, this is starting to look like a potential disaster. She reaches up and starts to tug at her shopping cart. I feel helpless because I am in no physical condition to go over and help her.

Suddenly, a young passenger in his twenties steps forward. Putting both hands on the cart, he says something to the old woman as she continues to back down the steps holding on to it.

Here is where it gets interesting The more she holds on and tries to help, the less able the fellow is to be of any help to her.

Then she seems to realize that at this point she is better off letting him take the whole thing, and so she lets go. The young man then lifts the cart easily, as if it weighs nothing, and carries it down and places it gently on the sidewalk in front of the woman.

It was one of those lovely little moments that warms the hearts of everyone on the bus or waiting to get on. The Kingdom breaks in on us when we least expect it.

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In a few minutes the bus drops me off at the corner near the monastery in time for Midday Prayer. Right after that I have to celebrate the 12:15 mass. The gospel passage is Matthew 11:28-30, which begins:

“Come to me all who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.”

As I proclaim these verses, the image of the old lady and her shopping cart comes to mind. And I remember the lesson that the woman learned: The fellow who was trying to help her with her burden couldn’t really do much for her until she let go of it.

I suppose I'm like that too. When I bring my troubles and burdens to Jesus I have to let go of them myself. It doesn’t do for me to come to Him with my problems but then still try to hold onto them.

Let's face it: It's hard to simply let go of these things and and entrust them to the Lord. Do I really believe that the Lord can lift these things from me as easily as that young man on the bus lifted that cart so easily down onto the street?

Jesus invites us in this gospel verse to hand over all of our problems to Him and let Him worry about them. That is such a beautiful offer, isn’t it? 

Yet I always have such a hard time letting go!

GET READY, GET SET...

From time to time I will run into one of our high school Students standing in the hallway. I say to him “what class are you supposed to be in right now?“ And he Will answer “I’m getting ready to go to English class.“ The response “I’m getting ready come across as awfully evasive. It leaves open the questions “what are you doing in the hallway?” And quote, why aren’t you in class?" The great French religious philosopher Blaise Pascal writes somewhere that many Christians waste their Present lives Waiting for heaven, which is their goal.

In some of the recent Mass readings, we have heard Jesus telling us to prepare for the master's return. But he doesn’t tell us to simply “await” that return.

The center of his message is that the kingdom of God is already among us. This kingdom exists, if you will, in this spaces between us.

I need to ask myself what characterizes the space between me and, say, this particular brother. Is it envy? Sympathy? Jealousy? Or self-giving love? That’s where the kingdom exists already!

Yesterday I had this awful thought: I imagined that I had died, and Jesus was asking me how I had spent my life. And I answered “I was getting ready!”

That is not the response we Christians are supposed to give in accounting for our lives.

Blaise Pascal 1623 - 1662

We are each called to make a liar out of Blaise Pascal by spending our lives on earth being Christ for everyone we meet. We are supposed to be helping to build the kingdom on earth. 

We have no time to waste by just “waiting for the Lord to return.”

THE MUSTARD BUSH

Today's gospel passage has got me thinking about Mark's parable of the mustard seed.

Jesus said, ‘With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.’ Mark 4:30-32

The Old Testament contains some metaphors based on the towering cedar tree magnificently reigning over the rest of the forest. Jesus makes a point of avoiding that metaphor in favor of the mustard plant, which grows to a height of three to about ten feet. Using one of his favorite devices, Jesus catches his hearers off guard with this surprising comparison. Its pointed irony would not have been lost on them: the Kingdom is not about being the biggest and the mightiest. But there are other things that people knew about mustard plants that would have given the metaphor even more punch.
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THE KINGDOM AS A WEED

There are two more things we can take from this image: Pliny in his Natural History says that the mustard plant is “hearty and intrusive.”

First, the Kingdom is as hearty as a mustard plant: it’s hard to kill. Some years ago I wrote a post celebrating the hardiness of the faith in Haiti. The Kingdom there is proving amazingly hearty, showing itself in people’s sending their prayers of lament, praise and thanks heavenward from the midst of the rubble and the misery. Is the Kingdom that hearty in my life, I wonder, surviving every challenge and difficulty?

Second, the kingdom, like the mustard plant, intrudes where it’s not necessarily wanted. This first definition of a weed I came across seems to fit well enough. “Weed: a plant considered undesirable, unattractive, or troublesome, especially one growing where it is not wanted, as in a garden.” Think of some of the hearty weeds that keep trying to take over your own garden. The Kingdom, it seems, is supposed to be troublesome like that, popping up in our life in areas where we’d rather not have it. It may show up just as I’m about to say something that would move my plans along but which would be rude or hurtful to someone. Or maybe it will intrude as I’m wondering if I really have any responsibility to help the poor people in Haiti. Some call it the voice of conscience, which is fine, too; we know that it's a sign of the presence of the Kingdom.

The Kingdom is like a mustard plant -- hearty and intrusive. When I pray “Thy Kingdom come” I’d better be ready for something “undesirable, unattractive, or troublesome” to get in the way of my plans and which may prove very hard to get rid of once it takes root in my heart!

KINGDOM SPACES

There was once a rich man ...

Today's gospel parable about the rich man and Lazarus (Lk 16:19-31) got me thinking about the Kingdom of God. I like to imagine the Kingdom of God as “existing in the spaces between us.” We are each responsible for what characterizes those spaces: mutual care? anger? jealousy? empathy?

In the case of the rich man, he was not even aware of the existence of the beggar at his front door. What characterized the space between him and Lazarus, at least from the rich man's perspective? Maybe indifference. In any case, it was not the “Kingdom” Jesus had come to establish on earth.

Interestingly, the parable ends with the image of a space between the two characters: an unbridgeable space separating the two of them. And it is too late for the rich man to bridge that space by filling it with compassion. He is, however, the one responsible for the chasm.

So there are at least a couple of lessons for us in this parable. First, we need always to be aware of the people that God has placed in our lives, especially those whom we may be tempted to pass by without noticing them. (It’s no coincidence that this poor man, Lazarus is the only character in any parable who is given a name), And second, we are responsible for how we treat those people. So we could say that the Kingdom means filling the species between us with love, right?

Yes, I suppose that's true. But we should not forget that the Kingdom is not always filled with "nice" experiences. The experience of the Kingdom also includes sharing in the sufferings of Christ, the King.

So when we are experiencing pain and suffering, we have to try to experience them as a share in the mystery of Christ's pain and suffering. These ended, as promised, in victory over death and suffering. Ultimately, the kingdom is about Easter.

My faith in Christ the Risen King assures me that if today is Good Friday for me, then Easter is coming!

I once heard this saying, attributed to a wise old rabbi: "God is not nice. God is not your uncle. God is an earthquake." 

I don't know about you, but I have certainly met this Earthquake God a few times. But this God is also the God of the Paschal mystery who raised Jesus from the dead. The God of love whose ways are unfathomable to us.

Our faith assures us that in the end, God always wins, and the Kingdom always comes. When we pray "Thy Kingdom come," we are committing ourselves to help to bring it about by filling all the spaces in our lives with Christlike love.  

THE TRINITY AND THE KINGDOM

Over the years I've reflected many times on the two topics of the Holy Trinity and the Kingdom of God.  (You can use the "Labels" list in the column to the left of the screen to click on each of these topics for a more thorough treatment of each.) 

On this Trinity Sunday, June 15, I'd like to reflect on how similar these two mysteries are. I hope my brief summaries of the Trinity and the Kingdom will be of some help.

 GOD AS TRINITY

The Holy Trinity is the complete expression of God’s Love. When a family is faithful, their love transforms itself into the image of the Holy Trinity on earth. The Holy Trinity, like the family, is above all a mystery of unity. Love is union. Two spouses who love one another are united, and two distinct persons who become one: “And the two shall become one flesh.” This unity and diversity of two-in-one helps us to understand the Trinity: Three in One, three distinct persons in a unity of love.

The Holy Trinity, like the family, is a mystery of fruitful love and unity. The man and woman who love each other participate in the creative power of God, in the Love that gives life. The child is the living image of the parents’ love, just as in the Trinity, where the Son is the perfect Image of God.

If God is a Trinity of distinct persons, then God is relation-ship. To make it sound more real you can say that God is family. If that’s so, then you need to approach the mystery of the Holy Trinity with more than just your mind -- you need an open heart. To grasp more about the Trinity you have to be ready to receive God into your life, this God who is boundless, unconditional love.

God is family. We are all family. Think of that the next time you’re thinking ill of someone, especially someone who hates you. No matter who that person is, you have to say to yourself, “I better be real careful because after all that person is family.”

If your God's love has boundaries around it and is limited to only certain people, then that is not the Triune God of the Christian faith, but a God with boundaries. A god with boundaries is obviously not much of a God, but rather an idol.

Our belief in the Trinity, in God as Family, challenges us to open our hearts in LOVE to all of creation. Sure we may fall short of this, but the Trinity is like that -- something we never quite get completely.

On our end, we can deflect or interrupt the Flow of love in our lives, we can isolate ourselves from the divine circle dance, but the Spirit is always working to draw us back into it.

 

THE KINGDOM

In the gospels Jesus tells his disciples, “The kingdom of God is among you.” The kingdom that Jesus began is a whole new way of relating with God and with one another, that is, a whole new way of filling the space between us.

The kingdom exists not so much inside each of us as in the spaces between each of us. We get to decide the character of each of those spaces. I freely choose how to fill that space between me and a student, say, or between me and a street beggar, of between me and a brother monk, and so on.

The Kingdom, then is all about relationships of LOVE.

And the Trinity, too, it turns out, is all about relationships of LOVE.

The two deepest mysteries of our faith, then, are about the same thing: LOVE:

THE HOLY TRINITY: God's mysterious internal life of the mutual love of three persons and infinite love for us creatures.

THE KINGDOM OF GOD: The Love that comes about in the spaces, the relationships between God and us and our neighbors.

La Santisima Trinidad - C. Cervantez

LEARNING FROM CHILDREN

 “Amen, I say to you, whoever does not accept the Kingdom of God likea child will not enter it." (Mk 10:16)

After preaching on this passage from today’s gospel at our community mass this morning, I came to my room and continued reading a book entitled “A time to die.” Written in French, it recounts stories of how monks in eight monasteries in France had faced death. It is, as you would expect, a little somber at times, but the overall thrust is that monks generally see death as simply a transition to the eternal life that they’ve been aiming at during their entire life in the monastery.

This quotation on one Abbot’s coat of arms summarizes his spirituality: “As newborn babes." Because its message is so close to today’s gospel passage, I would like to share an entire long paragraph with you (my translation). The abbot wanted to explain his choice of this bible verse to his brothers.

In a moving text, he describes his vision of the monastic ideal: to become a child. This implies a change, an effort, a true labor. This transformation, however, is the indispensable condition for entering into the family of God, into his sanctuary into the kingdom of heaven, to enter into this game, which is the monastic life. Now, what does spiritual childhood consist of? In one word, it is made of simplicity, of confidence, total abandonment into the hands of God. […] Thus the monastic life is a life made for children. The monastic life is a game, the grand game of love [“charité”]. In a game, you have to respect the rules, that’s just like in the monastic life. The monastic life is a game which is played with God and with those whom the Lord has chosen to bring to the monastery, those that we call our brothers. Truly monastic life is a conspiracy of love.”

The simple message that any Christian can take from blog post is this, to borrow afootnote from the New American Bible, “Whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child: i.e., in total dependence upon and obedience to the gospel.”

"Total dependence upon and obedience to the gospel” would seem to be a good message for the beginning of Lent, challenging us to root out all those things that we depend on rather than depending totally on God.

Have a blessed Ash Wednesday and a holy Lent!

CAUSING THE KINGDOM?

The first reading at mass this past Tuesday was from the second letter of Peter. The letter deals in part with warnings against false teachers. A particular crisis at the time was the claim by "scoffers" that there will be no “second coming of Jesus,” and that we are not to expect any kind of “parousia.” 

The first sentence of the passage caught my attention: “Beloved, wait for and hasten the coming of the day of God.” (2 Pet. 3:12)

The translation formerly used at mass was“wait earnestly for the coming of the Lord" instead of "hasten the day of the Lord."

This discrepancy between the two translations sent me to my Greek lexicon for some clarification.  What I found made me sit up and take notice. That's why I'm sharing it with you,

The verb in question is speudo. Its first meaning is “hurry.” You may remember in the first chapter of Luke, after the annunciation, Mary goes “in haste” to visit your kinswoman Elizabeth. That noun ” haste“ is from the same root. 

Some extended meanings given in the lexicon for speudo include the notion of “eagerness,” which is what the former lectionary brought out by telling us to be eager for the coming of the day of the Lord

But there is good reason to prefer the first meaning, "to hurry" with a direct object such as to hurry someone along.  If we do so, we find some challenging translations such as:

“Making the day of God come soon.“

"Hastening the day of God.”

One scholar even suggests:

“Doing your best to cause the kingdom.“

The question that arises naturally is this: “How can I cause the day of God to come soon?“

First, we should understand that “the day of the Lord,” refers to the final coming of the “kingdom of God.” And what is this kingdom, this reign of God? Where is it? My favorite image of the kingdom comes from Jesus himself, "The kingdom of God is among you," or, better, "the kingdom of God is between you” (Lk 17:20)" The kingdom exists in the spaces between us, in our relationships with one another.

So I have to ask myself, for example, "What characterizes my relationship with my spouse?" Is it selfless love? Generosity? Impatience? Anger? 

It is in our relationships with one another that the kingdom exists. For me, this means my way of relating with each of my brother monks, with each of my students, etc. Am I doing my share to make the kingdom a reality right now by the way I relate to those around me, by the way I love other people?

So, when Peter writes  “Beloved, wait for and hasten the coming of the day of God,” he is not saying "Sit around and wait for the coming of the day of God," but rather "Be about the task of loving one another, which builds the kingdom and thus brings us all closer to the final coming of Jesus."

 

Sunday, December 3, 2023, is the First Sunday of Advent.  Each year Advent begins the same way: It

continues, as if finishing old business from the past couple of weeks, the theme of Christ's coming at the end of time. but the new emphasis is on the theme that the coming of Christ is drawing near. (Next week, John the Baptizer will announce this in so many words.) In today's gospel passage Jesus says "know that the Kingdom of God is at hand."  

The verb that is translated "is at hand", engizo, means literally “drawing near some place.” Luke begins the story of the raising of the widow’s son at Naim by saying “As he drew near (engizo) the gate of the city a man who had died was being carried out… (Lk 7:12).” Jesus was at the walls of  the town. He was there. But he never actually went inside.

Matthew’s account of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem begins, “As they drew near (engizo) Jerusalem, entering Bethphage on the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent off two disciples with instructions… (Mt 21:1).” They’ve drawn near Jerusalem, but haven’t entered the city. Yet most scholars consider this passage the start of the “Jerusalem” section of Matthew’s gospel, agreeing that at this point one can safely say that Christ has come to Jerusalem.

Behold, my betrayer is at hand.

This dual meaning of both “near” and “present” comes out clearly in Matthew’s version of the Agony on the Garden. Everything is coming to a head. Judas is going to show up at any second with a band of soldiers to arrest Jesus. The Lord tells his weary apostles, “Sleep on now, enjoy your rest, the hour is upon us (engizo) when the Son of Man is to be handed over. Behold my betrayer is here (engizo) (Mt 26:54).” Notice how the RSV translates our verb as "is upon us" and "is here" in two successive sentences. 

In this context our verb has a sinister sense of foreboding, of some impending evil about to break in on Jesus and his friends. 

The most instructive use of the word, though, is in those familiar Advent passages announcing the Kingdom of God. On the Second Sunday of Advent John the Baptizer will shout “Reform your lives, the Kingdom of God is at hand (engizo) (Mt 3:2).” Jesus takes up the same theme in the next chapter, “Reform your lives, the Kingdom of heaven is at hand (engizo) (Mt 4:17),” and later sends out his apostles with the instruction, “As you go make this announcement, 'The reign of God is at hand (engizo)' (Mt 10:7).”

If in the story of the arrest in Gethsemane engizo carries a sense of foreboding, then in the announcements of the kingdom it carries a sense of urgency. This doesn’t come through in the translation “is at hand.’ The real power of the expression comes from the important fact that whenever it is referring to the kingdom, engizo is always used in the past tense! We aren’t waiting for some future event to break in on us, something has already happened. Salvation has already appeared in our midst. 

Today's gospel passage uses the adjective form, "engus," "nearby, as good as here, etc., arrived¨. So, then, there is no time for deliberating, for thinking things through, for getting used to the idea of committing ourselves. What's called for instead is immediate, decisive action.

In my morning meditation on this passage today, I realized that I have never really taken seriously the implications of this "past tense" dimension of the message. I concluded that it may take a jolt on God's part to wake me up, to spur me into immediate action, into acting as if I am already living in the Kingdom. So, with a certain amount pf trepidation I assured the Lord that I will begin today to live as if I were already living in the Kingdom of Love and Peace that he came to establish. "No need for a big jolt, please, Lord!" 

CHRIST THE KING STILL

 

I posted this reflection a few years ago, but I think it may be more relevant today than ever before. Rationalists have banished God to "upstairs," where He is totally irrelevant, isolated from the concerns of the 'real" world. I'm not trying to pick a fight with anyone with this post, but I am suggesting that now, after humanity has been "liberated" from its servile superstitious belief in a Deity, and we humans have been in sole charge of the universe for some years, I don't see much visible improvement in the condition of the world. 

Pope Pius XI

In December of 1925, Pope Pius XI wrote an encyclical entitled "Quas Primas" establishing the feast of "Jesus Christ, King of the Universe." The world at that time was experiencing the rise of secularism as well as an increasing number of dictatorships in Europe.The pope saw a connection between the two. Christian Europe had been cut loose from its moorings of religious faith, and even Christians were rejecting the belief that God was somehow in charge of the world.

What Pius XI saw and responded to was just the earliest stages of the secular worldview that has swept around most of the world. His declaration that the world ultimately makes sense only when we see it as part of a larger picture (the story of a loving God , etc.) is more relevant than ever. He was writing in 1925, before Hitler and Hiroshima, before Stalin and Socialism, before global capitalism and greenhouse gas emissions. The brave new world that secular humanism promised has, to put it politely, yet to materialize.

So, against this background, celebrating a Feast of Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, rejects the rationalists' two-storied version of the world, and offers us a couple of optimistic messages: First, this troubled world is not all we get: There's more to our existence than simply imprisonment in a meaningless world devoid of any ultimate purpose (that's the best that the two-storied world can offer us). Second, despite the chaotic mess that we humans are making of our world, God has a mysterious plan that we cannot understand (our intellects being no match for God's), and this plan is the Good News that one day we and our world will be transformed into the New Jerusalem under the reign of our infinitely loving Brother, Jesus Christ. Third, Jesus Christ became one of us, and is present with each of us in every place throughout the universe, rather than living like a recluse locked in a room on the second floor of the rationalists' universe.

Jesus Christ the King

Another pope, John XXIII once told us that world peace has to start first in the heart of each one of us. Perhaps we might suggest that Christ's reign as King of the Universe likewise has to start in the heart of each one us. Tomorrow's feast is a good opportunity to ask myself if Christ is reigning in my heart, or have I replaced him with someone or something else, gradually moved him upstairs and out of my everyday life.

WHERE´S THE KINGDOM?

 

On Thursday, November 16, the Church´s calendar commemorates two women saints: Gertrude the Great and Margaret of Scotland. The two form an interesting contrast.

Saint Gertrude the Great. Franciscan Media tells us the following: Gertrude (1256-1302), a

Benedictine nun in Helfta, Saxony, was one of the great mystics of the 13th century. Together with her friend and teacher Saint Mechtild, she practiced a spirituality called “nuptial mysticism,” that is, she came to see herself as the bride of Christ. Her spiritual life was a deeply personal union with Jesus and his Sacred Heart, leading her into the very life of the Trinity.

But this was no individualistic piety. Gertrude lived the rhythm of the liturgy, where she found Christ. In the liturgy and in Scripture she found the themes and images to enrich and express her piety. There was no clash between her personal prayer life and the liturgy. 

Saint Margaret of Scotland. The website Simply Catholic provides the following details about Margaret: St. Margaret of Scotland (1045-1093), the granddaughter of an English king, was born in Hungary due to her father’s exile there as a child. Her early years were spent in the Hungarian court, among pious and observant Catholic royals.

Her great-uncle, St. Edward the Confessor, who had succeeded her grandfather, was near death in 1057, and Margaret’s family returned to their native England since her own father was considered a possible successor to his childless uncle. Hardship struck the family yet again when her father died immediately upon arriving back to the land from which he had been exiled years before.

Through a succession of battles and shifts of power, her family lost the English throne, and Margaret’s family fled for safety to Scotland. There, in 1070, Malcom III, King of Scots, married Margaret, desiring a bride who was as a descendant of the Anglo-Saxon throne. Together they had eight children, three of whom would succeed their father on the Scottish throne.

St. Margaret would perform charitable acts for the poor. In loving and honoring them, she was loving and honoring Christ. These included washing their feet and serving them food.

St. Margaret was always quick to make a connection between her acts of service to the lowly as an act of sacrifice and worship. She often would be found going to the church so that she could offer up her service in praise of God. The Scottish royal couple set an example for their guests when typically they chose to serve guests before they would eat themselves. 

St. Margaret of Scotland is a patron saint for service to the poor.

WHERE IS THE KINGDOM?

The gospel for November 16 this year (Luke 17:20-25) includes the Greek preposition entos, which can be translated either ¨within¨ or ¨among.¨ Thus some translations of Jesus' words have ¨The Kingdom of God is within you,¨ and others have ¨The Kingdom of God is among you.¨ 

Which translation is preferable? Is the Kingdom inside us or is it among us, in the spaces between us, in our relationships of love and compassion? Our pair of holy women whom we honored at mass on November 16 would suggest that we need to hold on to both images of the Kingdom.

St. Margaret of Scotland, a patron saint of service to the poor, surely saw the Kingdom ¨among" us as she lovingly provided for the needs of the poor, pilgrims and others less fortunate than herself. Here is the oration that is said at the mass on her feast:  

O God, who made Saint Margaret of Scotland wonderful in her outstanding charity towards the poor, grant that through intercession and example we may reflect among all humanity the image of your divine goodness. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, ...

Saint Gertrude, on the other hand, found the fulfillment of the Kingdom deep within her heart, in the mystical love she shared with Christ. Compare the the oration the Church prays for her feast day:

O God, who prepared a delightful dwelling for yourself in the heart of the Virgin Saint Gertrude, graciously bring light, through her intercession, to the darkness of our hearts that we may joyfully experience you present and at work within us. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, ... 

BOTH AND ...

Something I found truly interesting, however, in reading the brief biographies in the two websites I consulted (named above), is that each of these holy women also embodied the other aspect of the Kingdom in her life: Margaret, the patron saint of those working with the poor, had an incredible inner life of prayer, and on the other hand, one source I consulted said of the great mystic Gertrude, ¨Her boundless charity embraced rich and poor, learned and simple, the monarch on his throne and the peasant on his field.¨

So, these two great saints team up each November 16 to give us a complete view of the Kingdom of God, a Kingdom that is both among us and within us. We need to actively love our neighbor while at the same time welcoming Christ into our hearts through deeply felt, intimate prayer.

Saint Gertrude and Saint Margaret, Pray for us!