Jesus’ Real Presence in the Eucharist Brings Order to Our Life

Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time
August 25, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Jos 24:1-2a, 15-17, 18b / Ps 34 / Eph 5:21-32 / Jn 6:60-69
by Rev. Mr. Mark De La Hunt, Permanent Deacon

The Holy Spirit rewrote my homily this morning. He has never done that before. He wrote this homily on Saturday morning in two hours and forty-five minutes, when it normally takes me twelve hours over the course of a month. I am sharing that with you, because I am guessing the Holy Spirit did this because He knew people were going to come to Mass this weekend needing to be healed of something or needing to have their life reordered in a way that was not going to happen with my first homily.  He reoriented my homily to be more about testimony, sacraments, and life than about scripture and apologetics (i.e., defense of the faith).

The Holy Spirit highlighted five verses from today’s gospel on John 6. As I pondered them, I saw them as a summary of our life with the Holy Trinity.

• We say, “This saying is hard, who can accept it (Jn 6:60)?”
• Jesus, somewhat sarcastically says, “For this reason I have said to you no one can come to me unless it is granted him by my Father (65).”
• Still, instead of surrendering to His Father’s will we act on our own and, “As a result of this many of His disciples returned to their former way of life (Jn 6:66).”
• Jesus asks those of us remaining, “Do you also want to leave (67)?”
• We, the mystical body of Christ respond, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God (68-69).”

(By the way, guess what the verse is for “They returned to their former way of life”? It is 66, as in Jn 6:66. This was not a clever writing technique by the apostle, John. The Bible did not come with chapters and verses; they were added hundreds of years later by the Catholic Church under the guidance of the Holy Spirit.)

If the Holy Spirit guided the numbering of the verses, then verse 66 must be important to us. What does it mean to return to our former way of life? For the Jews that day, it meant returning to a life where death was final, and where some religious rituals had become corrupted: things like getting a bill of divorce for practically any reason and stopping financial assistance for aging parents by dedicating that money to the temple (Mt 15:3-6).

Similarly, before Jesus came and established the Catholic Church, the former way of life in Rome and Europe was one of worshipping creation, what we call pantheism and paganism. They also worshipped manmade idols that represented many gods. Under these beliefs, the strong dominated the weak. Men dominated women. The wealthy dominated the poor and abandoned the sick when plagues came through. Wealthy men received an education, not the poor and not women. Sex was an act of domination, not love. Infanticide was common, especially if the baby was female (Hahn 75).

The horror show I just described is why Joshua and the Israelites in the first reading chose the one true God over the many gods of their neighbors. Their neighbors’ many gods demanded sacrifice of them (including of babies for the god Baal).  Their one true God, whom we know as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, sacrificed Himself for our good.

As crazy as the former way of life in Rome and Europe sounds, many of those horrors are happening again as more and more people turn away from the one true God.  Infanticide was common in China when their atheist (no god) government forced the one-child policy on their people. Tragically, infanticide happens in our country too. Also, in our country, the young and the strong can legally kill the old and the sick under the sinisterly named movement “Death with Dignity.” Domination and degradation of women is everywhere and is glorified. Education is trending down, especially for the poor. Marriage is being redefined to be “anything goes,” while traditional families are struggling to survive. Even our fundamental identity as men and women is being redefined and worse, becoming undefined.

The world is moving from order to disorder. One God brings order to the world. Many gods or no-god brings the world disorder or chaos. This is true for the world as a whole, for governments, and for us in our personal life. Even authentic religions that have been around since before Jesus have significant disorder, such as no hope of an eternal life with no more pain and no more tears. These ancient religions often have no respect and love for the poor and weak either. Mother Teresa was once asked by Jansenist priests in India to care for one of their sick priests, because their religion forbade them to do so.

Ok. That is a lot, and it can be disturbing and rob us of our peace. Let’s turn away from the darkness now and focus on the Light. If we want order and sanity and peace in our lives, we must center them on Jesus, the one true God. How do we center on Him?  First, we center our life on Him in the Eucharist.

Henri de Lubac, a French priest and prominent theologian, said it this way, “If we are to grow in love and holiness, we must make the Eucharist the center of our lives, because in doing so, we make Christ the center of our lives. If we receive Christ worthily in the Eucharist and worship Him in Eucharistic adoration, He will fill us with His grace and enlarge our hearts to love and serve more perfectly (Martin 131).”

Here is a story about Jesus in the flesh, in the Eucharist bringing order and sanity and peace into the life of a seventeen-year-old boy, right here in Holy Name of Mary about fifteen years ago. He was a tall altar server who towered over Fr. Sal (inside joke). He participated in parish faith formation, youth group mission trips, DYC, and diocesan retreats. But he found his life to be a struggle and confusing, especially the tension between teenage hormones and Catholic teaching. Know what I mean teenagers, and twenty somethings, and thirty somethings, etc.?

He came to church on Wednesday evening for confession, and afterwards walked into the nave to pray his Fr. Sal penance of one Our Father and One Hail Mary in thanksgiving for God’s forgiveness. On Wednesday’s there is also Adoration, so Jesus’ body in the Eucharist was on the altar in the monstrance.

The young man bowed down his head in prayer, but then heard a Voice say, “Noah, look up. I am right here.”  He blew it off as being his own thought and kept his head bowed down. The Voice came again, tenderly, “Noah, look up. I am right here.”  Noah told me that at that moment, he went from knowing about God to knowing God deep down, as a loving Father who is merciful and who is with him and for him.  This was especially poignant, since Noah had just come out of Confession.

By the way, what Noah experienced could be described as an awakening of the Holy Spirit’s gift of knowledge noted in Isaiah 11, which we all received in the Sacrament of Confirmation. It had been dormant, but Jesus in the Eucharist sent the Holy Spirit to Noah to fan it into flame. In a way, Noah had experienced a theophany.

I asked Noah to explain the Voice. He said it was not a sound, and it was not a thought. I asked him how he knew it was not a thought. He went on to describe it with the same phrase that the woman in my Eucharist story from my last homily used (It is as if the Holy Spirit is at work here 😉).  Remember how the smell of candles by the monstrance brought her back to her grandma’s house and her grandma’s hug and a feeling of safety? She told me that the feelings were “even more intense than when grandma was alive?”  Noah told me that the Voice was “more intense” than a thought. And the Voice did not come as thoughts do; it did not feel like his thought. It came from outside, not from within.

This is how the Holy Spirit moves through the Body of Christ. He speaks to all of us and even uses the same words like “more intense.” Noah and that woman do not know each other and have never met.

Noah and that woman, though, know their answer to Jesus’ question, “Do you also want to leave [Me]?”  They and all of us, say with Peter, “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life -this is My body…this is My blood.”  If the homilies are boring, or the music is lifeless, or the people in the pews next to us are cold, we still come faithfully for Mass and for Adoration. In other words, we come for Jesus in the flesh.

We don’t just have a personal relationship with Jesus; we have an intimate relationship with Him. Because it is not just spiritual, but is also physical (flesh and blood) in the Eucharist, it is “more intense” than a personal relationship! That is why today’s second reading is about marriage, the most intimate and intense relationship two human beings can have. In the marital embrace, one man and one woman give themselves to each other mind, body, and soul, withholding nothing including their fertility. This becoming one in the flesh in marriage is a sign of the Eucharist.

At Holy Communion, Jesus, the groom, waits for His bride (us) at the altar and consummates that relationship by entering into us: body, soul, and divinity. The entirety of scripture from Genesis to Revelation builds up to the Eucharist here on earth that we may be at the Wedding Supper of the Lamb at Mass and in heaven when we are born to eternal life. John saw this in a vision and wrote about it in the book of Revelation.

Before their wedding day, the bride and groom go to Confession to empty their soul of disordered things, so that there is room for all the grace and order God desires to pour into their newly married life. So too, we should go to Confession regularly to make room in our soul for all the grace and order our Groom desires to give to us in the Eucharist.

If you have not been to Confession in a long time, you need to go. You are in spiritual danger. People do not just wake up one day and commit mortal sin, wrecking their life and the lives of others. This happens after a thousand small bad decisions or venial sins are committed but not confessed. Confession opens our eyes to our sinfulness, blots out those sins, and protects us from making a terrible mistake.

Here are a few takeaways.

1. To center our life on the Eucharist is to center our life on Jesus (Martin 131).
2. When our life is centered on Jesus, we become free, free from oversensitivity to criticism and from a need for honor, wealth, power, and pleasure.
3. Free from those disordered desires, we have a greater capacity to receive Jesus’ grace so that we can love others as Jesus loves us, unconditionally. St. John Paul II said freedom is measured by our capacity to love.
4. Therefore, when centered on the Eucharist, our life becomes ordered through Jesus, increasing our capacity to love our spouses, our parents, our friends, and, quite frankly, to be better evangelists.

To increase your centeredness on Jesus in the Eucharist, sign up for the next Holy Name of Mary all-night adoration. It begins every fourth Saturday of the month, starting at 7 PM.  Or go to adoration at Holy Name of Mary on Wednesdays between 10 AM and 6:45 PM. If you show up at 5 PM, like Noah in the story, you can go to Confession while you are there, to make as much room in your soul as possible for all the grace Jesus wants to give you. Stay a little longer, and you can even go to Mass at 7 PM, scoring a Catholic hat trick (hockey reference) of grace with these three encounters with Jesus.

If, after all I have shared, you still struggle to see Jesus in the Eucharist, or you start to struggle months from now, then turn to His mother. She always leads us to her Son. Let’s turn to her help now.

Mother Mary, you first held baby Jesus in the town of Bethlehem, which means house of bread, and placed Him in a manger where animals go for sustenance. When we come forward for Holy Communion today, share with us what you saw when you first looked upon your Son in the Eucharist and share with us the joy you experienced at carrying Him again in your body. Amen.

Citations

1. Francis Martin & William M. Wright IV. Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture – The Gospel of John. Baker Academic 2015.
2. Scott Hahn. Evangelizing Catholics – A Mission Manual for the New Evangelization. The St. Paul Center 2014.

The Qualities of Good Shepherds

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 21, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Jer 23:1-6 / Ps 23 / Eph 2:13-18 / Mk 6:30-34
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

We find a common theme of leadership, compassion, and unity in our readings today. Each passage presents a different aspect of God’s relationship with His people, highlighting the desire for their care, peace and guidance.

Our first reading gives a stern warning to the shepherds who failed in their duties. The leaders of Israel tasked with guiding and protecting the people have instead led them astray, yet this passage is also filled with hope. God promises to gather His scattered flock and raise up new shepherds who will care for them. This prophecy ultimately points to the coming of Jesus Christ, the Good Shepherd who will lead His people with justice and righteousness.

Paul speaks of the profound unity brought about by Christ in his letter to the Ephesians. Through His death and resurrection, Jesus has reconciled humanity with God and with each other. He has broken down the barriers that once separated Jews and Gentiles, creating one new humanity. This message is especially relevant today as we continue to face divisions within our own communities and the world at large. Those words remind us that true peace and unity can only be found in Christ.

In today’s gospel, we see Jesus welcoming back the apostles, who have been sent out on their mission. They were tired, having worked hard, and Jesus recognizes their need for rest. “Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while,” He tells them. However, when they arrive at the deserted place, they find a large crowd waiting.

Despite His own need for rest, and the disciples’ weariness, Jesus is moved with compassion for the crowd. Because they were like sheep without a shepherd, He begins to teach them many things, attending to their spiritual hunger before anything else.

This scene highlights Jesus’ profound compassion and His role as the Good Shepherd, echoing the imagery from Jeremiah, where God promises to raise up a shepherd who will lead with justice and righteousness. Jesus exemplifies this shepherding by putting the needs of the people before His own, demonstrating the sacrificial love and care that characterizes His ministry. The rest and nourishment He offers are not just physical, but deeply spiritual, addressing the core needs of the human heart.

The connection to the second reading from Ephesians is also significant. Paul speaks of Jesus breaking down the dividing wall of hostility and making peace through His sacrifice. This peace is not just the absence of conflict, but a deep abiding presence of God’s love and grace, uniting us with God and with each other. Jesus as the Good Shepherd invites us into this peace, guiding us towards unity and reconciliation.

There was once a small town known for its high school basketball team. The team had an exceptional coach, Coach Thompson, who was deeply committed to his players. He wasn’t just concerned with their performance on the court, but also their well-being off it. He would often stay late to help them with their homework, listen to their personal struggles and offer guidance and support.

One season the team had a particularly grueling schedule. They practiced hard and played intense games almost every week. By mid-season, the players were exhausted. Coach Thompson decided to give them a break. “Let’s take a weekend off,” he said. “Rest, spend time with your families, and recharge.”

However, that weekend Coach Thompson received a call from one of his players, Jake, who was going through a tough time at home. His parents were fighting, and he felt lost and alone. Despite the need for his own rest, Coach Thompson didn’t hesitate. He drove to Jake’s house, took him out for a meal, and spent the day with him, listening and offering words of comfort.

Coach Thompson’s actions resonated deeply with the entire team. They saw how he lived out his commitment to their well-being, even at the expense of his own comfort. This compassion and selflessness not only strengthened their bond, but also inspired them to look out for each other, both on and off the court.

This story mirrors Jesus’ response to the crowd in today’s gospel. Just as Coach Thompson put his players’ needs before his own, Jesus prioritized the spiritual and emotional needs of the people, exemplifying the true Shepherd’s heart. Both coach Thompson and Jesus demonstrate the transformative power of compassion and sacrificial love, reminding us of our call to care for one another in our journeys.

Reflecting on these readings, we are called to examine our own roles as shepherds in our families, communities, and workplaces. How are we guiding those entrusted to our care? Are we living in compassion, justice, and righteousness as Christ exemplified?

In a world often marked with division and hostility, Paul’s message in Ephesians challenges us to be instruments of peace and reconciliation. We must strive to break down the walls that divide us, fostering unity through our common faith in Christ.

Finally, we learn from Jesus’ example in the gospel: Even in times of weariness, He prioritized the needs of others, teaching us the importance of compassion and selflessness. As followers of Christ, we are called to be attentive to the needs around us, offering guidance, support, and love, even when it demands personal sacrifice. May we take these lessons to heart, embodying the qualities of good shepherds in our daily lives and striving for the peace and unity that Christ has won for us.

May Jesus Christ be praised.

Finding Our Way Back

Tenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
June 9, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Gn 3:9-15 / Ps 130 / 2 Cor 4:13-5:1 / Mk 3:20-35
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Reflecting on our readings today, we recognize a profound journey that mirrors our own spiritual lives.  We start with the awareness of our brokenness and sin, much like Adam and Eve hiding from God.  Yet, even in our deepest despair, we cry out for God’s mercy, trusting in His unfailing love.

In our first reading, we encounter the aftermath of the fall.  Adam and Eve have eaten from the forbidden tree, and God is seeking them out.  Adam admits his fear and shame, having realized his nakedness.  God then pronounces judgement upon the serpent, promising enmity between the serpent and the woman’s offspring, hinting at the future defeat of evil.

The first reading introduces the theme of human frailty and the resulting consequences of sin.  Adam and Eve’s disobedience leads to a rupture in the relationship with God, marked by fear and shame.  Yet, amid the judgement, there is a promise of redemption.  The offspring of the woman will crush the serpent’s head.

St. Paul, in our second reading, reflects on the trials and tribulations faced by the apostles, yet emphasizes the spirit of faith that sustains them.  Despite the suffering and decay of their outer bodies, they are renewed inwardly.  All this speaks of the eternal glory that far outweighs their temporary struggles, focusing on the unseen, eternal life promised by God.  It also connects to today’s theme by highlighting the transient nature of suffering and the promise of eternal reward.  Paul’s message emphasizes that, although we experience hardship and our bodies waste away, our spirits are being renewed daily.  This reflects the ongoing journey from sin and suffering towards redemption and glory.

Today, we witness a powerful narrative that brings to light themes of misunderstanding, accusations, and ultimately the redefinition of what it means to be part of the family of God.  Jesus finds Himself surrounded by crowds so large that He and His disciples cannot even eat.  Amidst this, His family comes to take charge of Him, convinced that He is out of His mind.  The scribes from Jerusalem, witnessing His miraculous works, accuse Him of being possessed by Beelzebul, and driving out demons by the power of the prince of demons.

Jesus’ response is both profound and instructive.  He challenges the logic of the scribes by pointing out the absurdity of Satan casting out Satan.  He uses parables to illustrate that a kingdom divided against itself cannot stand.  Furthermore, He emphasizes that those who do the will of God are His true family.

Let me share a story about a man named Thomas.  Thomas was known throughout the village for his hardened heart and bitter disposition.  Life had not been kind to him, and he had grown cynical and distrustful of others.  He felt abandoned by God and believed that his life was beyond redemption.

One day, an elderly priest named Father Michael visited Thomas, asking for help repairing the church.  Reluctantly, Thomas agreed.  Over the next few weeks, as Thomas worked at the church, Father Michael shared stories of faith and redemption, particularly the story of Peter, who found forgiveness after denying Jesus three times but was forgiven and went on to lead the early Church.  Peter’s story, Father Michael said, is a testament to God’s boundless mercy and the power of redemption.

These stories stirred something in Thomas, and he began to see a glimmer of hope.  One stormy night, the church’s roof was damaged, and Father Michael called on Thomas for help.  Despite the treacherous weather, Thomas rushed to the church.  While repairing the roof, Thomas slipped and injured his leg.  Father Michael tended to him and prayed for his recovery.  As Thomas lay there, he felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over him.  For the first time in years, he prayed.  He asked God for forgiveness and thanked Him for sending Father Michael into his life.  From then on, Thomas’s life changed.  He attended Mass, helped others, and became an integral part of the community, and treated them as his family.

Years later, as Thomas stood in the church he’d helped restore, he reflected on his journey.  He realized that God had never abandoned him.  Rather, He had been gently guiding him back to the path of redemption.

Just as in the readings, Thomas’s life parallels our own spiritual journey.  We may feel broken and beyond hope, much like Adam and Eve after the fall, or the psalmist crying out from the depths.  However, through faith and the loving actions of others, much like Father Michael’s gentle guidance, we can find our way back to God.

Thomas’s transformation echoes Paul’s message in 2 Corinthians about inner renewal despite outward suffering and exemplifies the redefinition of family and community through faith, as Jesus teaches in Mark’s gospel.  This story reminds us that no matter how lost we feel, God’s mercy is always within reach, leading us to redemption and new life.  Paul’s words also remind us that our sufferings are temporary and serve greater purpose in God’s eternal plan.  They encourage us to look beyond our present struggles to the unseen glory that awaits us, renewing our spirits daily through faith.

Finally, Jesus’ teaching in Mark challenges us to redefine our understanding of family and belonging.  It invites us to find our true kinship in those who do the will of God, creating a community bound, not by blood, but by shared faith and obedience to God’s will.  The gospel presents Jesus’ redefining family ties, just as Genesis shows the destruction of the original family due to sin.  Jesus reestablishes a new family bond based on a spiritual kinship with those who do the will of God.  This redefinition aligns with the promise of redemption, highlighting the true faith and obedience to God.  We become part of God’s family.  Our Church offers a powerful message of hope and redemption.  Jesus calls us to acknowledge our sins, seek God’s mercy, endure our trials with faith, and embrace our true identity as members of God’s family.  In this journey, we find assurance in God’s promise that, though we may face suffering and misunderstanding, His eternal glory and redemption await us.

So, brothers and sisters, as we continue our Mass today, let us strengthen our faith as we endure life’s trials, renewing us inwardly day by day.  Let us pray for our Lord to help us see our struggles in light of the eternal glory He has prepared for us.  And may we live as true members of God’s family, doing His will and reflecting His love.

Into the Desert of Lent

First Sunday of Lent
February 18, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Gn 9:8-15 / Ps 25 / 1 Pt 3:18-22 / Mk 1:12-15
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

On the first Sunday of Lent, the Liturgy invites us into a period of reflection, repentance, and spiritual renewal.   As we embark on the journey through the desert of Lent, the readings and themes for this day serve as guiding lights, illuminating the path toward deeper communion with God.  Lent comes from a Latin word meaning to soften.   Lent is a forty-day period which begins on Ash Wednesday and ends before the celebration of the Pascal Triduum.

Forty is the number often associated with intense spiritual exercises.  God caused it to rain for forty days and forty nights to cleanse the earth.  The Israelites were in the wilderness for forty years.  Moses spent forty days and forty nights on Mt. Sinai, and Elijah journeyed forty days and forty nights to Mt. Horeb.

The gospel reading for this Sunday centers around Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness, highlighting the struggle between the forces of good and evil.  It prompts us to contemplate our own vulnerabilities and the temptations we face in our daily lives.  Through Jesus’ example, we find encouragement to resist these temptations with the strength of faith and reliance on God’s word.

In the Old Testament we encounter the story of Noah and the flood, symbolizing purification and renewal.  This narrative reminds us of God’s covenant with humanity and His promise of redemption even in the midst of trial and adversity.  It serves as a reminder of faithfulness and obedience in our relationship with God.

St. Jerome, the brilliant doctor of the church, lived for twenty-five years in the cave where the child Jesus was born.  One time he prayed to Jesus thus, “Dear Child, you have suffered so much to save me.  How can I make amends?”  “What can you give me, Jerome?” a voice was heard.  “I will spend my entire life in prayer, and I will offer all my talents into your hands,” Jerome replied.  “You do that to glorify me, but what more can you give to me?” the voice asked again.  “I will give all my money to the poor,” Jerome explained.  The voice said, “Give your money to the poor.  It would be just as if you were giving it to me.  But what else can you give to me?”  St Jerome became distraught and said, “Lord, I have given you everything.  What is there left to give?”  “Jerome, you have not still given to me your sins,” the Lord replied.  “Give them to me, so I can erase them.”  With these words, Jerome burst into tears and spoke, “Dear Jesus, take all that is mine and give me all that is yours.”

Brothers and sisters, the liturgical season of Lent calls us to introspection and self-examination, urging us to identify areas for growth and transformation through prayer, fasting, and almsgiving.  We are invited to draw closer to God and to our neighbors, embodying the love and compassion of Christ in our actions.

The gospel reading today tells us that Jesus went into the desert and spent forty days there.  It tells us about the first time that our Lord was tempted.  It was the first time that the devil openly confronted Christ and put Him to the test.  But as we know, Jesus did not sin.  He was like us in everything but sin.  The devil tempted Him overtly, but Jesus did not give in to the temptations that the evil one placed before Him.

This is a very important event in Jesus’ life.  This event in Jesus’ life shows us that we should not believe that Satan would never tempt us openly.  We cannot say as some do, that I do not ever commit a sin.  Satan puts everyone to temptation, and many times we give in to him, something that our Lord Jesus did not do.

Lent is a time for us to show our repentance through fasting and abstinence for the sins we have committed.  Mortification, penance, strengthens our souls so that we can resist the devil, who as tradition tells us during the entire year, but especially during these forty days of Lent and during the days that we commemorate the Passion of Christ, will try to tempt us with greater determination and venom.  We should not forget that even though Satan will tempt us, Christ, especially during these forty days, will help us to free ourselves from sin.  He will give us the graces that we need to conquer those temptations.  Of course, He will do this if we prepare ourselves, if we wipe clean our souls of sin, if we ask Him for those graces. When we are sincerely repentant and we say, “Lord, protect me from all sin,” He will do just that.

The season of Lent, the season of mercy is the best time for us to purify ourselves and strengthen ourselves to change our lives, to repent and follow Christ.  We begin to feel this process of conversion when we firmly resolve to better our spiritual lives and to change our lives if they need to be changed.  If we truly believe in the Good News, the Gospel of Christ, we must feel the radical need to abandon our lives of sin.

In those forty days spent in the desert, fasting and praying, our Lord gave us an example of what we need to do to prepare spiritually for Easter.  During these forty days of Lent, Jesus asks us to let go of all those worldly things that tie us to sin.  He asks us to let go of our selfishness, our sinful pride, our belief that we are better than everybody else.  The conversion that the Lord asks us to go through really means maintaining a close relationship with God.  It would be a lamentable error if we did not take advantage of these Lenten days, leaving for later what we know we need to do now in order to change our lives, with an ardent desire to change our lives, remembering that there is still time today, but it may be too late tomorrow.

Let us repent and confess our sins in the sacrament of Reconciliation.  As we reflect on the readings and themes on this first Sunday of Lent, we are reminded of the significance of this season as a time of spiritual renewal and preparation for the celebration of Easter.  It is a time to reorient our hearts and minds towards God, to seek forgiveness for our shortcomings, and to deepen our commitment to living lives of holiness and discipleship.

Flawed and Beautiful

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
February 11, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Lv 13:1-2, 44-46 / Ps 32 / 1 Cor 10:31-11:1 / Mk 1:40-45
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

The readings for today invite us to reflect on the call to holiness and the transformative power of God’s love in our lives.

In the first reading, from the Book of Leviticus, we encounter the intricate laws given to Moses by God for the purification and healing of those afflicted with leprosy.  Leprosy, a symbol of sin and impurity, isolates individuals from their communities, casting them into the margins of society.  Yet through the compassion of God and the actions of the priest, those suffering from leprosy are offered a path of restoration and reconciliation.  This narrative reminds us that God’s love knows no bounds and extends even to the most marginalized and excluded members of society.  It challenges us to examine our own attitudes toward those who are different from us, and to recognize the inherent dignity and worth of every human being.

In the hustle and bustle of our modern lives, it’s easy to get caught up in the pursuit of perfection.  We strive for flawless appearances, impeccable achievements and seamless performances.  Yet, amidst this relentless pursuit of perfection, we often overlook the inherent beauty found in imperfection.

Once in a distant village nestled among rolling hills, there lived a potter, renowned for his exquisite craftsmanship.  His creations were flawless, each vessel bearing the mark of his skill and dedication.  People from far and wide sought his pottery, believing it to be the epitome of perfection.

One day a traveler passing through the village stopped by the potter’s humble workshop.  Intrigued by the tales of the potter’s mastery, the traveler watched intently as the potter skillfully molded clay into elegant shapes.  However, amidst the display of precision, the traveler noticed something peculiar:  a small crack on the surface of a seemingly flawless vase.

Curious, the traveler inquired about the imperfection.  With a serene smile, the potter replied, “Ah, my friend, perfection is an illusion.  It is in the imperfections that true beauty resides.”  He then proceeded to explain that the crack in the vase was not a flaw to be concealed, but a unique feature that added character and depth to the piece.

The potter’s wisdom speaks volumes about our own lives.  We often strive for flawlessness, believing it to be the ultimate measure of success and happiness.  Yet, in our relentless pursuit of perfection, we overlook the beauty found in our imperfections, the cracks and blemishes that make us uniquely human.  Just as the cracked vase held a beauty beyond its flawless counterparts, so, too, do our imperfections enrich our lives.  It is through our struggles, failures, and vulnerabilities that we learn, grow, and connect with others on a deeper level.  Our imperfections are not signs of weakness, but signs of our resilience and capacity for growth.  We just need to offer them to God and allow Him to heal and cleanse us from our blemishes.

In our gospel today, we encounter a powerful demonstration of Jesus’ compassion and healing ministry.  This passage tells the story of a leper who approaches Jesus with humility and faith, seeking to be cleansed of his affliction.  The encounter between Jesus and the leper reveals profound truths about the nature of God’s love and the transformative power of compassion.

The leper, marginalized and shunned by society due to his condition, takes a bold step in approaching Jesus.  Despite the social stigma surrounding leprosy, he approaches Jesus with unwavering faith, believing in His power to heal.  His plea, “If you wish you can make me clean,” reflects both humility and trust in Jesus’ authority.

Moved by compassion, Jesus responds with a gesture that speaks volumes.  He reaches out and touches the leper.  In this simple yet profound act, Jesus not only demonstrates His willingness to heal, but also breaks down the barriers of social and religious exclusion.  By touching the leper, Jesus communicates a message of solidarity and acceptance, affirming the leper’s dignity and worth as a beloved child of God.

The healing of the leper is not merely physical, but also spiritual and emotional.  Through Jesus’ compassionate touch, the leper experiences not only physical restoration, but also reconciliation with God and the community.  He is no longer an outcast, but a restored member of society, free to fully participate in the life of the community once again.

As we reflect on this passage, we are reminded of the profound truth that lies at the heart of Jesus’ ministry:  the transformative power of compassion.  No matter how imperfect we are, no matter how simple we are, Jesus still reaches out to us with compassion and empathy.  He’s ready to make us clean if we reach out to Him.  As He said, “I do will it.  Be made clean.”

Jesus’ compassionate response to the leper also challenges us to examine our own attitudes and actions toward those who are marginalized or excluded in our community.  Do we, like Jesus, reach out to those in need with compassion and empathy?  Do we challenge the social and religious barriers that exclude others and perpetuate injustice?  Are we willing to extend a healing touch, both literal and metaphorical, to those who are hurting and in need of restoration?

So, as we journey through life, may the parable of the potter encourage us to embrace our imperfections with grace and gratitude.  Let us recognize that it is our flaws that make us beautiful, that our scars tell stories of trial over adversity, and that our brokenness is a testament to our strength and resilience.  And may we find solace in the knowledge that, in the eyes of God, we are perfectly imperfect, cherished just as we are.

May the story of Jesus’ encounter with the leper inspire us to embody His compassion in our own lives.  May we reach out to those who are marginalized or excluded, affirming their dignity and worth as beloved children of God.  And may we be agents of healing and reconciliation, in a world that is longing for the transformative power of compassion.

Preparing the Way

Second Sunday of Advent
December 10, 2023 — Year B
Readings: Is 40:1-5, 9-11 / Ps 85 / 2 Pt 3:8-14 / Mk 1:1-8
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

In the gentle glow of the second Advent candle, we find ourselves journeying through the scriptures of the Second Sunday of Advent.  The readings, like a compass, guide us through the wilderness of anticipation, urging us to prepare the way for the Lord.  The image of John the Baptist emerges prominently – a voice crying out in the wilderness, urging us to make straight the path for the arrival of the Messiah.  It is a powerful metaphor, reminding us that the preparation for Christ’s coming often occurs in the rugged terrains of our lives, the places we may overlook or avoid.

A story is told about a school principal who called the house of one of his teachers to find out why he was not at school.  He was greeted by a small child who whispered, “Hello?”

“Is your daddy home?” asked the principal.

“Yes,” answered the whispering child.

“May I talk with him?” the man asked.

“No,” replied the small voice.

“Is your mommy there?” he asked.

“Yes,” came the answer.

“May I talk with her?”

Again, the small voice whispered, “No.”

“All right,” said the man.  “Is there anyone there besides you?”

“Yes,” whispered the child, “a policeman.”

“A policeman?  Well, may I speak with the policeman?”

“No, he’s busy,” whispered the child.

“Busy doing what?” asked the principal.

“Talking to daddy and mommy and the fireman,” came the child’s answer.

“The fireman?  Has there been a fire in the house or something?” asked the worried man.

“No,” whispered the child.

“Then what are the police and the fireman doing there?”

Still whispering, the young voice replied with a soft giggle, “They are looking for me.”

Poor fireman and policeman.

It would be pretty hard for rescuers to find this child as long as the child keeps hiding from them.  In today’s gospel we see John the Baptist in the desert, calling the people of Judea to come out into the open desert and let God find them.  You can liken it to the fireman calling out to the lost child.  The child has to leave his hiding place and come out into the open for the fireman to find him.

To go into the desert is to leave behind the normal props of life on which we tend to depend.  Such life props we often find in our jobs, in our relationships, and in our routine religious practices.  God can’t do much with us as long as we hope and trust in these things as the first things that give meaning to our lives.  When the heart is full, no one can come into it, not even God.  You have first to let go of what your heart is holding onto before you can embrace God.

In today’s reading from Peter, we hear that Jesus’ second coming is still being delayed because He does not want to lose any of us.  He is giving us more time to repent and prepare.  He’s calling us to metanoia, to a complete change in our lives.

All of us have experienced someone telling us how to change our lives.  Most likely it was our parents.  This call to change our lives may be the only one that some of us have ever heard.  Someone may announce, discuss, and invite people to think about a new way of life saying, “I want you to do what I told you to do.”

But then there was Jesus’ approach.  Jesus comes along and doesn’t simply discuss it.  He is it.  Jesus is the experience of the transformation that we all need.

In today’s readings, we also notice that Mark is the only evangelist who introduces the word gospel in his opening statement, “The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”  The word gospel means people – God’s people as they manifest the glad tidings of the Lord’s presence in their midst, or as they become the instruments of God’s redemptive presence toward others.

Advent is given to us in order that Jesus may be manifest in our midst.  We are to become the heralds of glad tidings, which is the gospel.

The gospel is Jesus Christ.  John the Baptist in the message today is preparing the way for Jesus’ presence in our midst.  Jesus is the gospel.  Perhaps a more correct translation would be:  The Beginning of the Gospel which is Jesus Christ, the Son of God.  Gospel is people, manifesting God as Savior, intervening as God’s instrument in the work of salvation toward others.

In the gospel message today, John the Baptist tells us that Jesus is coming, and when He comes, He will baptize us with the Holy Spirit.  Each of us is called to be the beginning of the gospel for others, to tell the good news in a way that makes us a messenger for the One who is coming.  As Christians, we have the role of preparing the way of the Lord, and John the Baptist is our model.  Mark’s gospel is but the beginning of a story that continues down to our time.  It started with John the Baptist.  Today it continues with us.  He prepared others for the coming of the Lord.  We must do the same.

Before we help to prepare others, we must acknowledge our own sins and seek forgiveness.  We must be renewed so that nothing impedes our walk with Jesus.  We must examine our inner sins, those that go beyond the ten commandments.

We must prepare as a people, because we tend to overly individualize our relationship with God.  Advent is something we do together.  We dream, repent, turn our faces toward God together.  In the season of Advent, the church extends to us the call of John the Baptist to repent and confess our sins in preparation for the One who is to come.  It is an opportunity to re-discover our total dependence on God.  God has made us for himself, as Saint Augustine confessed, and our hearts are restless until they rest in God.  When we realize this and make room for God in our lives, then we are on our way to true repentance, after the example of John the Baptist.

As we continue our Advent journey, may the light of the candles guide us through the darkness, reminding us that our preparation and anticipation are not in vain.  The lessons of Advent are not confined to a season. They are a timeless call to keep the flame of hope alive in our hearts, ready to shine brightly, even in the unexpected moments that await us.

Perfect Surrender

Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary
December 8, 2023 — Year B
Readings: Gn 3:9-15, 20 / Ps 98 / Eph 1:3-6, 11-12 / Lk 1:26-38
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

A preacher once said, “Saying yes to God does not mean perfect performance.  Rather, it means perfect surrender to the Lord, day by day.”  Today, as we celebrate the feast of the Immaculate Conception, perhaps it is a good time to reflect on whom we are going to follow:  Adam, who in our first reading said no to God, or Mary, who in our gospel reading said yes to God.

Today, in our first reading, we hear the Lord call to Adam, saying, “Where are you?”  Adam replies, “I hid myself.”  In our gospel, we also hear Mary, whose response to the angel’s prophecy of her Son was, “I am the handmaid of the Lord.  May it be done to me according to your word.”

In a homily many years ago, Pope Francis said, “’Here I am’ is the opposite of ‘I hid myself.’  ‘Here I am’ opens one to God, while sin closes, isolates, and causes one to be alone with oneself.”

The words of Mary today are full of wisdom.  We should use these words every time we pray to the Lord each morning.  If we say to the Lord, “Here am I, your servant,” like Mary with all sincerity, that shows humility within us. These words would show that we are willing to do what God asks us to do for the rest of our day.  This is an act of humility because a person who is open to the will of God is a person who recognizes that God will continue to work in his life no matter what happens along the way.   Mary is our example in this.  Mary experienced many difficulties, especially witnessing the suffering of her son.  She was able to endure everything because she knew very well that God was with Him, blessing Him, giving Him the grace that He needed in order to survive any challenges in life.

Some people, however, do not love or respect the Lord and are not willing to admit that they are God’s servants.  They think that they can live without God.  These are the people who are proud, because they do not want to be told what rules to follow, such as the commandments.   For them, the ten commandments are a hindrance to their happiness.  They think they want to be independent.  If they are independent without any moral guide to follow, then their only guide is their own personal desires and cravings in life.  That’s what they follow.  People without a moral guide, or no God, are guided only by their desires.  If they like to eat, they do that, if they get angry, they hurt people. They are not much better than animals.

Christians have a moral guide, a guide that does not curtail our freedom, but rather gives us freedom.   The more we follow this moral guide, the more it makes us realize the true meaning of what we are doing.  It will make us realize the meaning of our existence in life.

Sin puts us away from the grace of God.  It isolates us, as Pope Francis says.  It causes us to be alone with oneself.  Every time we fall into sin, we feel like Adam who hid himself.  Every time we fall into sin, we have no face to show in front of the Lord.  That’s the normal feeling brought about by sin.  That is why we should always remember that the Lord is willing to search for us when we lose our way by sinning.  Every time we fall into sin, God always searches for us.  He will always claim us as His own.  God will tell us, “You are mine.  I created you.  I made you.  I made you to be good.  When you go astray, I have to look for you.”  We sinners should not continue hiding ourselves as Adam did.  We should get out and show ourselves with all humility before the Lord.  We must say to the Lord, “I’m sorry.  I want to start over.”  There is no sin that God cannot forgive.

Nothing is impossible with God, as the angel said to Mary.  God can take the most evil thing in the world and make it holy.  One example of something evil that God made holy is the cross.  Before they hung Jesus on that cross, a cross was a symbol of shame, a symbol of death, a symbol of defeat, embarrassment, and everything negative.  But after they hung Jesus on the cross, the cross became holy, a source of life, a symbol of salvation, a symbol of power.  That’s how powerful God is.  God can take the most impossible thing and make it possible.  There are many examples of this in scripture.  Today’s gospel provides the example of what happened to Mary.  How could she conceive?  Mary asked the angel, and the angel told her nothing is impossible with God.

We should not be afraid.  We should strive our best to offer our whole life to the Lord. Every time we fall into sin, we should remember what Saint Paul says, “Where sin abounds, grace abounds all the more.”  Ask the Lord’s forgiveness.  Go to confession and start all over again.  Never give up in following the Lord.  One day, the Lord will show us how He has prepared us for the place He has made ready for all His faithful followers.  Let us not forget that saying yes to God does not mean perfect performance, rather it means perfect surrender to the Lord day by day.

Seventy Times Seven

Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
September 17, 2023 — Year A
Readings: Sir 27:30-28:7 / Ps 103 / Rom 14:7-9 / Mt 18:21-35
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

A 99-year-old woman, pushing on in years, boasted to her pastor that she didn’t have an enemy in the world. He was very impressed. What a wonderful thing to be able to say after all those years! And then she added, “I have outlived them all!” If we live long enough, we’ll also be able to make the same statement.

“What goes around comes around” is a common expression. Its familiarity springs from the truth. When we offer words of kindness and love to others, that invites words of kindness and love in return. On the other hand, isn’t it true that words of anger only produce more anger on each side? The harsh judgement we pass on others easily could apply to us as well. In the final analysis, we will be judged by how we treat others, not how they may have treated us.

So what is it that we want to go around and come around? The reply that we offer should not be merely words, but also deeds. The wise man Sirach in our first reading says, “Forgive your neighbor’s injustice; then when you pray, your own sins will be forgiven.” These words in many ways echo the Lord’s Prayer: “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.” We have indicated that we want the same treatment as we give others.

The problem is, if we treat others in an unkind manner, we are asking that God treat us the same way. For example; if the young people here do not cooperate with their elders by loving them and obeying them, it means that they are saying to God: My parents shouldn’t love me and shouldn’t respond to my wishes. Jesus is saying that if we treat others poorly, then it’s only natural that they will treat us the same way. You are in command. Treat others well, including parents, and they will treat you well.

There is a story of a six-year-old, John. During night prayer he paused before his brother’s name and said to his mother, “I will not ask God to bless Paul. He gave me a big blow on the nose today.” The mother said to John, “But Jesus asked you to forgive your enemies.” Little John responded, “That’s the main problem. Paul is not my enemy, and that’s the reason I cannot forgive him.”

The reaction of little John tells us that forgiveness is hard, and that forgiving family and friends is even tougher. Forgiveness and reconciliation are twin virtues that hold a relationship whether it is an interpersonal or interethnic or interreligious relationship.

One of the hardest things to do is to forgive those who are mean to us. To forgive those who have done or said terrible things against us, or even to forgive those who contribute, or those who continue to put us down and those who hate us with disdain.

Have you ever found yourself in a situation where it was difficult to forgive someone who offended you? Yes, forgiveness can be very hard in certain situations, and for this reason it takes such a long time before we train ourselves to forgive our offenders, especially when they are people we trusted so much.

The first step towards forgiveness is the ability to say, Yes, I forgive. It really takes a lot of courage to forgive. The second step is to ask for the help of God by admitting, God, I really want to forgive, but I do not know how to forgive. Help me to forgive totally and completely from the depth of my heart.

Too often we wait for others to make the first move. We hesitate because we might face rejection, or we don’t want to seem too weak or eager for reconciliation. That’s not how Jesus treated us. He made the first move. He loves us so much that He died for us. We can show the same love by having His courage to treat our family and our friends in the same loving manner, not waiting for them to display their love but to offer our love first. Each of us must be Christ-like: We must take the initiative.

Our Lord gives this gospel as a warning that we must be constantly on our guard. God has forgiven us for things we could not possibly hope to repay. And we are duty bound in gratitude and compassion to share the graciousness, forgiveness, and charity that God gives to us and others around us.

In the gospel, Peter is asking about the limits of forgiveness. Isn’t it true that if we just grant forgiveness to someone who’s treated us in an unloving manner that they will continue to take advantage of us? Jesus says, “No, don’t forgive friends or members of your family seven times, but seven times seventy times.” Unlimited.

Jesus willingly gave His life for us because He loves us. We show our love in the same manner and, if we do, that love will be returned, whether it be from our child, our parents, our friend, or even from someone we don’t like. We do it not because we are weak, but because Jesus has asked us to do it, and He has promised we will be blessed for our actions.

Also, we must learn to forgive ourselves. Imagine you’re responsible for something very serious; you are driving a car while under the influence of alcohol, there is an accident and a young person is killed. That life cannot be brought back. For more and more people, there is something in their background, some skeleton in the closet, as we say. A broken marriage, an abortion, a pregnancy outside marriage, a broken relationship, or a serious mistake. And for many of us we do not believe that there is another chance, much less seven times seventy chances.

This is not the teaching of Jesus. God doesn’t just give us another chance, but every time we close a door, He opens another one for us. The Lord challenges us not to make serious, damaging mistakes. But He also tells us that our mistakes are not forever. They are not even for a lifetime, and time and grace wash us clean. Nothing is irrevocable.

The words of Sirach in the first reading say it all. “Think of the commandments. Hate not your families and friends, remember the Most High’s covenant, and overlook faults.” And so, as each of us takes a few minutes coming to Communion, think of what we can do for our families, our children, our siblings, and all of our friends so that we will love one another as Jesus has loved us. Let us continue to promote that awareness that we are all in communion with one another and with the one God. What we do to others we are taken as doing to God himself. May Jesus Christ be praised.

The Matter of Sacraments

Fourth Sunday of Lent
March 19, 2023 — Year A
Readings: 1 Sm 16:1b, 6-7, 10-13a / Ps 23 / Eph 5:8-14 / Jn 9:1-41
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Our gospel today is about a man who was born blind.  What a privilege for the blind man to have met Jesus and be healed by Him!  What a privilege for him to have Jesus touch his eyes and bring him sight!  Yet who would think that a paste of clay put on one’s eyes and then washing in the Pool of Siloam would restore the blind man’s sight?  But Jesus worked through clay and water.  Jesus used ordinary elements around us in nature to convey his healing power.  Jesus gave the gift of sight by using matter.  The blind man could feel the paste of clay on his eyes; he could feel Jesus touching his eyes; he could hear Jesus.  He could feel the water washing off the clay.  He could not see Jesus, but Jesus came to him through touch and hearing.

In the first reading God works in a similar way.  Samuel, under instructions from God, anointed David with oil, and when he did so, the spirit of the Lord came mightily upon David from that day forward.  In the first reading and gospel, God’s power and healing were conveyed through elements of nature applied to the body and were conveyed through matter.

So, when Jesus comes to us, how does He come?  Every time we receive the sacraments, Jesus comes to us, and there is a visible sign of Jesus coming to us invisibly through His sacrament.  Just as the Holy Spirit came mightily upon David when he was anointed with oil by Samuel, and just as Jesus used matter of clay and water for the healing of the blind man, Jesus comes to us in each sacrament with matter used together with prayer, and we call the prayer “the form.”  So the matter and form of every sacrament is the visible sign of Jesus coming to us invisibly, but powerfully, in the sacrament.

In the Sacrament of Baptism, the matter is water, which is poured over the head to baptize and symbolizes washing.  And the form is that the priest will say the name of the person or the baby, and then continue by saying, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” which is prayed at the same time as the water is poured.

In the Sacrament of Confirmation, the matter is the bishop using his thumb to anoint the forehead with Oil of Chrism.  And the form is that he says the name of the person and says, “Be sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit.”

In the Sacrament of the Eucharist, the matter is bread made from wheat and wine fermented from grapes.  The form is the words of the Consecration at Mass over the bread and wine.  “Take this, all of you, and eat it.  This is my body which will be given up for you.  Take this, all of you, and drink from it.  This is the cup of my blood, the blood of the new and everlasting covenant.”

In the Sacrament of Reconciliation, the matter is not something that we can see as in the other Sacraments, or something that touches our senses.  Instead, it is our sorrow and repentance and the penance we perform after receiving the absolution.  The form is the words of absolution prayed over us by the priest, which conclude, “And I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father (the priest makes the sign of the cross), and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

In the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick, the matter is the anointing with the Oil of the Sick on the forehead and on the palms of the hands.  The form is a prayer prayed by the priest at the same time, when he says, “Through this Holy Anointing, may the Lord, in His love and mercy, help you through the grace of the Holy Spirit.”  Then he anoints the forehead, and he continues by saying, “May the Lord who frees you from sin save you and raise you up.”  Then he anoints the palms.

In the Sacrament of Holy Orders, in which deacons, priests, and bishops are ordained, the matter is the laying on of hands by the bishop on the head of the man being ordained.  The form, the prayer of consecration immediately following the laying on of hands, differs on whether it is a deacon, priest, or bishop who is being ordained.

In the Sacrament of Matrimony, the matter and form of the Sacrament is the mutual self-giving and self-acceptance by the couple as they hold each other’s right hand.

When David was chosen by God as King, the spirit of the Lord came mightily upon him when he was anointed by Samuel with oil.  When the blind man was healed by Jesus, the healing of Jesus came to him through being anointed with a paste of clay and washed in the Pool of Siloam.  He could feel the paste of clay on his eyes, he could feel Jesus touching his eyes, he could hear Jesus, he could feel the water washing off the clay.  He could not see Jesus, but Jesus came to him through touch and hearing.

Every time we receive the sacraments, Jesus comes to us by touching our senses, and there is a visible sign of Jesus coming to us invisibly in these sacraments.  Who would think that anointing with oil would be the signal for the spirit of the Lord to fall mightily on David?  Who would think that anointing with a paste of clay and washing would restore sight?

But God uses ordinary elements of nature to convey His power and healing to us in the sacraments, and in every sacrament, Jesus comes to us invisibly, but powerfully.  So, as you receive the sacraments, you hear Jesus and Jesus touches you.  Jesus touched the blind man and Jesus touches you when you receive the sacraments.

The Woman at the Well

Third Sunday of Lent
March 12, 2023 — Year A
Readings: Ex 17:3-7 / Ps 95 / Rom 5:1-2, 5-8 / Jn 4:5-42
by Rev. Mr. Barry Welch, Guest Homilist

For a few moments I’d like for you to put yourself in the place of the woman at the well in today’s story.  Imagine you’re her and you’re there.  It’s dusty and it’s hot, even in the shade.  The dust and the wind are hot, and they’re sticking to you because you’re sweaty.  You’re a long walk from the village. You’re alone.  The jars are heavy even when empty.

I am the woman at the well, and I swim in dirty waters.  I exist and I swim in the waters of this world, this culture. It can be a cesspool really. The world doesn’t love me; it doesn’t care about me. Society, the culture, they wish for my power as their own. I’m worth what I produce for it. My dignity is ambiguous, my morality is ambiguous, dependent on what others might see in me or gain from me, so I behave the same. This culture that corrupts me by bombarding me with its messages: consume, it’s your truth, love whomever you’d like, if it feels good do it, the baby is not a person, the old man is a burden. This culture that has shaped me is the same that will condemn me, shun me, ignore me, separate me whenever it seems helpful to it. Governments, business, academics, art, media, these can’t save me. I am the woman at the well, and I swim in dirty waters.

I am the woman at the well, and I am a cast away, rejected, shunned, alone with my sin and my pain. There’s a reason I’m at the well far outside of town, alone with the sun at its peak and the heat. I am a cast away. That’s because no one will be there, no one carries heavy containers of water in the heat of the day; they go in the early morning or the late evening when it’s cool. But me, I go when no one will be there, no one to deride me, no one to judge me, no one to make me feel worse about myself than I already do. No one can help me, no one cares, no one loves me. Do I even deserve love anyway? I just need to exist. I just need to get by. I am the woman at the well and I am a cast away.

I am the woman at the well and I doubt Him. Why talk to me? Why care about me? I am a woman, I am from Samaria, I’m a pagan. You don’t know me; You can’t know me. Everything about me is the antithesis of what someone like You would value. I float in sin. I doubt You can help me. You don’t even have a vessel, a container for the water, and my darkness is deep, too deep for You to reach. How could You sustain me for even a few moments, let alone eternally? No, this doesn’t make sense, this must be some trick. You must want something from me or wish to gain something by this encounter. I am the woman at the well and I doubt Him.

I am the woman at the well and I accept Him. Wait, He does know me. He really, truly, knows me. He knows my heart, hardened and despairing as it is. I’ve never met Him, and yet He softly identifies everything about my darkness. He dips deeply into my well of shame and loathing and somehow accepts it, accepts me. He accepts who I am. His grace is bigger than my past, much bigger. He’s met me in the dark and barren places of my heart where I am and offered me His love without requiring anything. And yet, I feel I want to return to Him somehow. I want to acknowledge this immense gift. I welcome His gift. It’s what I’ve unknowingly been seeking. He has risen me to pure living water. I’m unsinkable. I live. I am the woman at the well and I accept Him.

I am the woman at the well and I know Him. I’m not even going to haul the water back or the containers. I’m lighter than air now. I’m restored. My burdens lifted. My guilt and shame washed away. I’m floating. But what about the others? They don’t know, they can’t know. They swim in dirty waters. They are castaways. They doubt love. If they knew Him, they might be light. I must share. I must let them know, because even me, and all my darkness and brokenness and doubt, even me He loves and wants to save. You’ve got to meet Him. There’s nothing greater, nothing more important, nothing more beautiful. He is the living water, salvation, the Christ. I am the woman at the well and I want you to know Him.