Sunday Reflections

On a liturgical note

Canon Philip Gillespie

Here in Italy, 15 August is not only a day of particular honour given to Mary, as the Solemnity of the Assumption, but being a holy day it is also a holiday – or indeed several days’ holiday because with the increase of heat over the month, it is a good opportunity for people to take a break, go to the seaside and have a different pace of life for a few days. In our current circumstances, it will all be different – churches will not be as full as normal because of the requirements of physical distancing, people might be a little hesitant to go to the beach or to travel too far. We are all having to strike that right balance between prudence and the need to embrace a ‘new normal’, to be out and about, but in a cautious and sensible way. Just as in England, so here in Italy (and in the Vatican) the requirements of good sense dictate that we adhere to all the requirements of these unprecedented times. As the lockdowns in our respective countries have had full hold on our lives, the cycle of the liturgical year has kept turning – a reminder that it is not centered upon us. We might of necessity have had to press a pause button on what we presume as our ‘normal’ life or ‘regular’ pattern and style of prayer, but the ever-turning circle of the liturgical year celebrates and realises that Paschal Mystery which is all about the constant working of the Trinity: no pause, no lockdown, no distancing. The Father so loves the world that he gave his only Son and the power of the Holy Spirit is the dynamic principle of the life of the Church, yesterday, today and all days. Mary’s great prayer of thanksgiving and praise , the Magnificat, is prayed each day in the Evening Prayer of the Church. It speaks of the overturning of the ‘normal’ or accepted way of things and the establishment of the Kingdom where God’s mercy will be the touchstone of the ‘new normal’: ‘He has cast down the mighty from their thrones and has lifted up the lowly; He has filled the starving with good things, and sent the rich away empty.’ In the circumstances, not a bad theme upon which to reflect and act.

Sunday thoughts

Mother Teresa was asked to support the building of a massive new hospital that would be named after her. When it was suggested she might think of the extra lives the hospital might save and how all who entered would see her name, her response was quick and simple: ‘God did not call me to minister to the millions, but to minister to the one in front of me.’ The person in front of her was what her life was about. I recall this as I read the gospel for the first Sunday in August. It’s the story of the Feeding of the Five Thousand. The crowds are hungry and the reaction of the disciples is predictable: ‘Send the people away and they can go to the villages to buy themselves some food.’ It was taken for granted that the welfare of so many people was too big a problem for them to solve. Mother Teresa was criticised for failing

Mgr John Devine OBE

to consider large-scale projects to eradicate global poverty and disease. When faced with worldwide hunger and inequality we imagine the solution lies in an industrial, logistical exercise, way beyond our capability. Aren’t we more likely to say: ‘What difference can I make?’ And so we do nothing. This miracle challenges that assumption. Jesus tells his disciples: ‘Give them something to eat yourselves.’ Five loaves and two fish are nothing at all. John’s Gospel adds the telling detail that it’s a little boy’s lunch. Yet it’s a little boy’s lunch that saves the day. If we start with what we’ve got we can achieve great things. The miracle of that day is not the magical multiplication of loaves. The miracle is the change of heart that led everyone to share.

Trusting faithfulness

Aunty Nan was a sister of Our Lady of Africa who lived in the Belgian Congo for many years. One of her actual blood sisters, Molly, spent a year with Nan’s community where the order taught and ran an infirmary. Molly worked in the school office. The sisters were often in conflict with the authorities over corruption, which was rife. This led to a local government official paying a group of guerrillas to attack the convent.

Aunty Molly was terrified when the attack happened, but Aunty Nan was amazing. She herded some of the sisters to the chapel and locked them in; then she and Molly went to face the attackers. Molly was shaking as they passed the bodies of several dead sisters. When they drew near to the fighting, Molly collapsed by a doorway from which she was able to witness what happened. Nan walked into the courtyard and the guerrilla leader, bore down upon her. Molly was sure that she would be killed but before the man got to Nan, one of the workers stuck a knife in his back. Nan got down on the floor next to him and cradled him until she was covered in his blood. The last thing he saw was a look of pure love. Molly said it was the greatest example of trust in God she had ever seen.

I love the book of Ruth which tells a story of trusting faithfulness. Having experienced tragedy, Naomi and Ruth return to Bethlehem from Moab. It is Naomi’s home town but Ruth is a foreigner and a widow and has to learn to trust in God’s care. It teaches us, as Job does, that there are some things that we have no control over, and which have to be left in the hands of God.

Sheila Cassidy once wrote a book called 'Sharing the darkness' in which she said: ‘Faith is the willingness to outstare the darkness.’ Amazing words and yet often I meet people who have the most incredible burdens to deal with and yet who are willing to trust in the goodness of God despite the difficulties they face.

One of the challenges of faith is always, will we trust God and believe that God will be present and that therefore all will be well? That is what Jesus had to do on the cross. He had to trust God in his darkest moment, and it was that trust in God that led Him through death and into life. That is the invitation each of us is given: to open our hearts and minds to the risen Lord, to learn how to trust in God, and to find life in all its fullness. Fr Chris Thomas