The Incredulity of St Thomas by Rembrandt ca. 1634)
A reflection for the 2nd Sunday, Easter, Year A. The readings are Acts 2:42-47; Psalm: 118; 1 Peter 1:3-9 and John 20:19-31. Written in the midst of the Covid-19 Pandemic in April 2020.
Sometime towards the end of March I started praying – really praying – for an end to this pandemic. I asked God to end the pandemic on Easter Sunday. Wouldn’t that be great? If on Easter Sunday, as the sun rises on every time zone, the virus is slowly killed – all over – and all those who are sick would be cured. Wouldn’t that be awesome? Then the world would know that Jesus is alive and that He is Lord! Then we would all know that the purpose of this virus was to bring glory to God! Like Peter says in today’s second reading: we would have gone through this little trial so that our Faith would bring Glory to the name of Jesus. Oh how that would glorify His name! There would be so many conversions and so many vocations. So many people would come back to the Church. Oh, that would have been great.
In this special SLHour reflection, we look at the Gospel reading for the 5th Sunday of Lent, year A: The Raising of Lazarus. It’s a heartwarming and moving exhortation during this time of crisis: “Come out, and live!”
A reflection for the 2nd Sunday of Lent, Year A. The readings are Genesis 12:1-4a; Psalm: 33; 2 Timothy 1:8b-10 and Matthew 17:1-9.
The Transfiguration: “When they looked up, they saw only Jesus.” (www.freebibleimages.org)
Last week we had the call of the desert and this week we have the call of the mountain. And that’s usually how it goes: After being in the desert, we are often called up the mountain. What happens up there? We have a mountain-top experience: an encounter with God.
We’ve all had encounters with God. Sometimes it’s a very powerful event and we recognize it right away. Sometimes it’s not that obvious but we still recognize it, maybe a few days later –or even sometime later, in retrospect. Sometimes it’s not one event, but a period in our life that when we look back we can say, “Wow, God was really present in my life during that time.” And sometimes we have an encounter with God and we don’t recognize it at all.
A reflection for the 5th Sunday, Ordinary Time, year A. The readings are Isaiah 58:7-10; Psalm 11; 1 Corinthians 2:1-5 and Matthew 5:13-16.
Two weeks ago we were talking about how Jesus is the Light that scatters all darkness. I asked you to pray with Psalm 27 for someone who’s in darkness. How’s that going (you thought I’d forget, eh?) Keep praying: “The Lord is my Light and my Salvation.”
Last week, in our parish, we were reminded that by virtue of our Baptism, we all receive the Light of Christ and we are to keep it burning brightly.
Today we are told something else: Not that Jesus is the Light of the world but that we; you are the Light of the world. And we are told something that may sound a bit strange when you hear it for the first time: You are salt.
I am not sure about you, but I like being light. I understand being light. When I die, you can put on my tombstone: “He brought light to all those around him”. But who would want their tombstone to say: “he was salty”? We all want to be light, but who wants to be salt? It’s easy to explain light, but salt?
Today I’d like to make the case for salt.
deacon pedro 