(The following is from Pastor Dick Dahl)

Pastor Kathy prepared us for today’s liturgy with the following message:

“This week’s liturgy calls us to reflect on who it is we say we believe in—something people have struggled through time to come to terms with. Joshua says simply—’I believe in Yahweh.’ Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians calls us to action in our belief—we must love others as we do ourselves. Jesus asks his followers this week, ‘Am I a stumbling block to you?’  The psalmist cries out his/her belief that ‘Our God hears the cry of the poor’ and Peter answers with the resolution that we all most often come to, ‘Who are we to turn to?’”

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What stood out for me in today’s readings was Jesus’ question to the twelve men he had called and spent so much time with: “Are you going to leave me, too?”

Many of his disciples had remarked, “We cannot put up with this kind of talk! How can anyone take it seriously?” The Temple authorities had argued, “How can he give us his flesh to eat?”

They did not understand the meaning behind Jesus’ words. Did they really think he was saying they were to participate in cannibalism? How much confusion and distortion has resulted from people misunderstanding Jesus’ words and the Scriptures! How much alienation from God has come from the literal understanding of teachings that had deeper symbolic meanings!

But the bottom line is, “Are you going to leave me, too?”  But like Joshua in the first reading, Jesus was saying, “Make a decision. Are you with me or not?”Joshua asked a similar question of the tribes of Israel and their leaders, “Make the decision today whom you will worship.”

(The following homily is from Pastor Dick Dahl)

In last Sunday’s Gospel we heard Jesus instructing his disciples what to do when they went out to different villages to give witness to his message. Today we hear that they rejoined Jesus and were telling him their experiences. Jesus said, “Let’s go somewhere where we can be by ourselves and talk about how things went for you.” I can imagine their excitement. And we hear Jesus’s expressed wish to share it with them.

But what happened? People sought them out. In fact, even when they went some distance in their boats to get away, a large crowd found them. Jesus put aside his plans, and his wish for time alone with his friends. He took pity on the needs of the people and taught them at length. He saw that they were like sheep without a shepherd. He was their shepherd.

Today’s Scripture readings were selected to portray Jesus as the shepherd promised in Jeremiah, guiding his frightened flock in Psalm 23, teaching them out of compassion for their need in Mark’s Gospel, and gathering those who were far away and those who were near in Paul’s words so that, “We all have access in one Spirit to our God.”

Most of us don’t think in terms of sheep and shepherds today, but we can relate to a hunger for leadership. During his recent visit to South America, Pope Francis criticized the church for having put dogma before love, and for prioritizing moral doctrines over serving the poor and marginalized. He said that many grave sins were committed against the native people of America in the name of God. Now, however, he says not only the poor but even the entire human race is in immanent danger because of policies driven globally, now not in the name of God, but in the name of money.

As important as domestic issues are–from immigration to health insurance–and foreign affairs are–from Iran to Cuba, one issue stands out above all others. It is impending environmental catastrophe. This is the message that Pope Francis, our shepherd in the 21st century, calls us to recognize through his recent encyclical, Laudato Si. He speaks not just to Catholics and even other Christians, but to all people in the world because what is happening affects everyone on this planet.

Francis piggybacks on the global scientific consensus, namely that humans are contributing to the exploitation and destruction of the planet in ways that are near to irreversible. He calls us to revere our mother earth which is being ravaged by a global economic order that has created a “new colonialism” of inequity, materialism and the exploitation of the poor.

Thomas Piketty, In his recently published study, “Capitalism in the Twenty-First Century”, says history shows that “capitalism automatically generates arbitrary and unsustainable inequalities that radically undermine the meritocratic values on which democratic societies are based.” Pope Francis said to his fellow South Americans, “Human beings and nature must not be at the service of money. Let us say ‘No’ to an economy of exclusion and inequality where money rules, rather than service.

Francis writes, “The human environment and the natural environment deteriorate together; we cannot adequately combat environmental degradation unless we attend to causes related to human and social degradation. In fact, the deterioration of the environment and of society affects the most vulnerable people on the planet.”

Francis calls for a radical transformation of politics, economics and individual life styles to confront social change. He acknowledges that this is a revolutionary call, but nothing short of such change will save the planet and life and civilization.”

He ended his encyclical with the following words: “Yet all is not lost. Human beings, while capable of the worst, are also capable of rising above themselves, choosing again what is good, and making a new start, despite their mental and social conditioning. We are able to take an honest look at ourselves, to acknowledge our deep dissatisfaction, and to embark on new paths to authentic freedom. No system can completely suppress our openness to that is good, true and beautiful, or our God-given ability to respond to his grace at work deep in our hearts. I appeal to everyone throughout the world not to forget this dignity which is ours. No one has the right to take it from us.”

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QUOTES from  LAUDATO SI

On pollution:

People take sick, for example, from breathing high levels of smoke  from fuels used in cooking or heating. There is also pollution that affects everyone, caused by  transport, industrial fumes, substances which contribute to the acidification of soil and water,  fertilizers, insecticides, fungicides, herbicides and agrotoxins in general. Technology, which, linked  to business interests, is presented as the only way of solving these problems, in fact proves  incapable of seeing the mysterious network of relations between things and so sometimes solves one problem only to create others (Laudato Si, pp. 7,8)

On waste accumulation:

The earth, our home, is beginning to look more and more like an immense pile of filth . . . But our industrial system, at the end of its cycle of production and  consumption, has not developed the capacity to absorb and reuse waste and by-products. We have not yet managed to adopt a circular model of production capable of preserving resources for present and future generations, while limiting as much as possible the use of non-renewable resources, moderating their consumption, maximizing their efficient use, reusing and recycling them. (Ibid.)

On the human impact of environmental degradation:

There has been a tragic rise in the number of migrants seeking to flee from the growing poverty caused by environmental degradation. They are not recognized by international conventions as refugees; they bear the loss of the lives they have left behind, without enjoying any legal protection whatsoever. Sadly, there is widespread indifference to such suffering, which is even now taking place throughout our world. Our lack of response to these tragedies involving our brothers and sisters points to the loss of that sense of responsibility for our fellow men and women upon which all civil society is founded . . . Many of those who possess more resources and economic or political power seem mostly to  be concerned with masking the problems or concealing their symptoms, simply making efforts to reduce some of the negative impacts of climate change (Id at 8).

On exhaustion of resources:

Even as the quality of available water is constantly diminishing, in some places there is a growing tendency, despite its scarcity, to privatize this resource, turning it into a commodity subject to the laws of the market. Yet access to safe drinkable water is a basic and universal human right, since it is essential to human survival and, as such, is a condition for the exercise of other human rights. (Id pp 9, 10)

On the pervasiveness of psychological denial:

As often occurs in periods of deep crisis which require bold decisions, we are tempted to think that what is happening is not entirely clear. Superficially, apart from a few obvious signs of pollution and deterioration, things do not look that serious, and the planet could continue as it is for some time. Such evasiveness serves as a license to carrying on with our present lifestyles and models of production and consumption. This is the way human beings contrive to feed their self-destructive vices: trying not to see them, trying not to acknowledge them, delaying the important decisions and pretending that nothing will happen. (Id at 17)

On economic inequality:

Yet it would also be mistaken to view other living beings as mere objects subjected to arbitrary human domination. When nature is viewed solely as a source of profit and gain, this has serious consequences for society. This vision of “might is right” has engendered immense inequality, injustice and acts of violence against the majority of humanity, since resources end up in the hands of the first comer or the most powerful: the winner takes all.(Id. at 24)

Certainly, we should be concerned lest other living beings be treated irresponsibly. But we should be particularly indignant at the enormous inequalities in our midst, whereby we continue to tolerate some considering themselves more worthy than others. We fail to see that some are mired in desperate and degrading poverty, with no way out, while others have not the faintest idea of what to do with their possessions, vainly showing off their supposed superiority and leaving behind them so much waste which, if it were the case everywhere, would destroy the planet. In practice, we continue to tolerate that some consider themselves more human than others, as if they had been born with greater rights. (Id at 27)

Friends, my reflections today were originally shared in this cycle three years ago. I added some updates, but wanted to share many of the same things again, so this is my 2015 version. Last week we spent time reflecting on the call of the prophet and that each of us has that call in our own individual lives as Christians—it goes with the territory, so to speak—to claim the name comes with responsibilities.  So, if we struggled with this fact last week—asking, “Did the Scriptures really say that?”—well this week, there is no doubt—we are called to prophecy—to prophesy—each one of us, where we live and work and play.

Again, we see the reluctance of the key players in today’s readings—or at least their incredulousness at being called.  Who? Me?  Amos says—he’s only a shepherd and he gathers figs for food.  One could say, “I’m just a woman, no one listens to women—why God—why me?” Or one might say, “I’m just a simple teacher, a farmer, a tradesman, a mother, a grandparent—I have no skills.” In defense of himself, Amos, when told to go home by the priest at Bethel, says—Look, I was a shepherd and God called me, so I went to prophesy to God’s people.  He didn’t even claim the name of prophet, much like Paul last week, didn’t claim the title, but surely was one.

Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians has almost an agitated tone in his message—he truly wants these people and us by extension, to get it—that we are called, as we sang in the opening hymn,  and not just as workers, but as heirs in Jesus’ family.

This truly is “Good News” that we are wanted not just for what we can do, but for who we are—part of the family. The Redig side of our family met last weekend for business and family fun and I think whenever we meet; we marvel at how good it is to be a family.  We have our differences, sure, but we still know that we are part of something quite special. Hopefully, you have like experiences.

Jesus, in the Gospel today goes on to affirm this call by letting those first apostles and us, know how we should go about prophesying.  Their task and ours will be to proclaim the need that we all turn our lives around—that we repent that which has made us less than the people God intended us to be and remember to offer to ourselves and others the gift of healing, by extending God’s love and mercy—always.

This task may be as simple as the challenge from a young woman, a few years back, that I had the privilege to meet.  She had experienced the death of a classmate to suicide and this experience called her to value in a new way, each day of her precious life. Her challenge to me, as to herself, was, and these are her words, “To teach all the members of God’s family to act like every day is the last and to trust in God.”

She went on reflecting about life and how it seems that some of us are only concerned about health when we are sick or getting older—also that we visit people and care for them more at these times than at others. Finally, she mentioned that when we talk to such people, we are careful not to mention what is really going on for them. Interesting thoughts to ponder when considering truth-telling.

Jesus’ first apostles were to take little for their journey of prophesying—just what was needed. Perhaps this is a reminder to us as it was for the apostles that any success that we might have does not come from us, but from our loving God who began this good work in us, so to always give God the praise.  Perhaps the message might also be, on a more personal level, to own only what we truly need and share with others what we no longer require.  I have begun, with a bit more time, in my retirement, to look at what clutters my life—how much do I really need and how much are simply wants, and strike a balance. We often hear the reports of those who lose everything due to devastating storms and fires and that if they got away with their lives, say they have what is most important!

Besides going out simply and living simply, these first followers of Jesus were supposed to be prepared to “shake off the dust!”  In Jesus’ day it was common practice to, “shake off the dust” when leaving a foreign place as a sign that their views were not the same.  In our present day, I think we struggle with knowing when to be accepting of others’ stands and when to stand our own ground for the perceived right. After all, most of us, brought up with religious backgrounds, learned well to not question, just accept and then of course, there is “Minnesota Nice” to contend with!  Perhaps there is a place in the middle. When I put down some of these thoughts three years ago, I said, “We all pray, that our Congress would find that place—the middle, that is, as they attempt to do the work of the people.” It is incredible that three years later, this can still be our prayer!

Probably the most touching part of Jesus’ message to his first followers and ultimately to us is his instruction that each one have a partner for the journey—someone that we can turn to, depend on, and receive loving support from. Jesus knew the arduous task of being a prophet, a teacher, a healer—how wonderful that he encouraged this purely human good of companionship for those who follow him.  That is why our community here, All Are One, becomes so important, as we struggle to faithfully and courageously carry out our part of Jesus’ mission on earth.  Through our prayer, listening to the Word and sharing the Eucharistic meal, sign and symbol of Jesus with us, we acknowledge our deep need for companions and our call to be “companion” to others.  We stand for something different in the Catholic community of this area—we go against the grain—some say, we cause “confusion” for others and we do need the support of each other to be the prophets that Jesus calls us to be.

For the next several weeks, Robert and I will be away and Dick Dahl will be pastoring and leading you.  My prayer will be that each of you will be that support and give care to one another in my absence.

So, we are called to the task of prophesying.  Why is it, do you think that people of old and people in present times find that so difficult? Do we lack the faith to know and believe that we can do anything to make a difference? Perhaps.  I think sometimes we are of the misconception that to be a prophet means we have to travel or be someone important, more than educated, of some means, and the list goes on to discount ourselves from even considering such a “lofty” task.

But, let’s look at who God has chosen:  fisher people, shepherds, tentmakers, the poor, the afflicted, women—no less, to speak truth to power in a way that because of their ordinariness, ALL people will know that the power unleashed through them—through us, is really the power of God.

All the readings today confirm for us that God chooses ordinary Christians and gives them extraordinary responsibilities! Really, this is another sign of how we are loved and trusted by our God. When you think about it—don’t we mere humans give the tasks that take the greatest responsibility to those we love and trust most? Our loving God will not be outdone by us.

All of us are simple people too, educators, grandparents, electricians, farmers, in the social and human sciences, nurses, moms and dads, pastors, children—and it is within these ordinary professions and stages of life that we are called to make a difference by the way we live our lives—it is where we touch hearts and minds and souls with the tenderness of our God—it is there that we heal people with our touch, our words.  It is there that we help to drive out the “demons” that have strangleholds on people—just as those first apostles did.  In very ordinary ways, ordinary people are called to do extraordinary tasks for the kindom.

In the first decade after the Second Vatican Council, we used to sing a hymn—“They Will Know We Are Christians by our Love”—that wasn’t just a catchy tune! At the beginning of my homily today,

I mentioned the challenge I was given by a young woman to live each day as if it was my last and to teach others to do the same—I called her a young woman and indeed she was, but in actuality only 14 years of age at the time—a prophet indeed—living fully within her simple, young life.

We might experience fear when we feel that we have no skills for this awesome task, or not the right skills, but we must not forget the power of Jesus within us.  There is nowhere we have to go—we only have to be where we are, making a difference there! We only need find the ways to help people let go of their troubles by touching them with the healing power of God’s tenderness.  St. Francis of Assisi once said, “Preach the Gospel at all times, if necessary, use words!”

And if you’re still not sure and asking the questions, Who? Me?—you may hear our loving, patient God responding, if not you, who else?

A final question to us all: What message does our own personal life proclaim to others? Is it one of service, or self-preoccupation? May we all be blessed today!

Our readings this week really speak hope to us.  And that is a good thing—we need to have hope that we can do what God is calling us to in our lives as Christians.  We need to have the strength to believe as Julian of Norwich was fond of saying, “All will be well and all will be well.”  It seems we simply have to keep our eyes on our loving God as the psalmist says today, and for us, that means Jesus, to know our path and what our life will mean as believers.  The wisdom of a political prisoner in the Philippines might be good for us to reflect on in this regard: “Those who would give light must endure burning.” In other words, it won’t always be easy.  Amid the praise for Pope Francis’ encyclical on the environment, comes the comments of those who can’t see beyond their own needs. Our president, Barack Obama has known his share and more of criticism from those whose eyes can’t see beyond the present, from those whose hearts aren’t big enough to include all, as we try to do here, “with a place at the table for everyone.”

We have the short, but very powerful reading from the prophet Ezekiel in this week’s readings that at first glance appears to tell us little, but on a second glance, we get the kernel of hope we so often need when trying to do God’s work among seemingly stubborn people—God says, “Whether they listen or not—they will know that a prophet has been among them.”   With God’s grace, the prophet in us and others will not be able to completely put aside the Spirit’s message when spoken.

A word on being a prophet: Sometimes I think many of us believe that being a prophet is a thing of the past—we think of a few “greats” that the Church lifts up for us; Isaiah, Ezekiel-today, in the first reading, of Jesus, of course. But, truly friends, the Spirit is continually renewing the face of the earth and each of us is called to the prophet role by nature of our baptisms, to speak truth as we are given it for the good of all.

Sometimes the Spirit will sneak up on us, giving us strength we didn’t know that we had. Have you ever been compelled to say something in the face of a present evil that no one was addressing, and once said, you wondered, where did that come from?  The Spirit, my friends, the Spirit!  We must come to humbly accept and appreciate the Spirit of Jesus wanting to renew the face of the earth through us!

We see Paul struggling with the task too—he is reluctant when it comes to bearing with the side effects of being a prophet, even though he does not claim this distinction for himself.  He lives with some sort of affliction that he prays God will take away only to hear, “my grace is sufficient for you.”  And as Paul lives out his call—his life in Christ, he comes to be able to proclaim, “When I am powerless, it is then that I am strong.”  We could well take up his prayer in our daily trials as well.

I believe each of us can point to times in our lives when we did the right thing against all odds and felt strength beyond ourselves.  Likewise, we have all had experiences when we felt the task was more than we could do, but something compelled us just the same. At these moments then, we must remember the psalmist’s words of wisdom, “So our eyes are on you, O God.”  And then we look to Jesus, our model, our brother, our friend.  Even Jesus, God’s First Born was not without scorn—the people he would have thought he could have expected support from, turned away or at least didn’t understand—his neighbors and perhaps some of his family members.

They couldn’t believe because they knew him—they had their ideas about who he was and it didn’t include being a prophet—a teacher—a miracle worker—certainly not the Messiah. It is perhaps a good meditation to think about and pray over, of just what it was like for Jesus to be rejected in his own home town.  His human nature had to have experienced the pain of that rejection.  On the one hand, “their lack of faith astounded Jesus,” the scriptures tell us.  His thoughts might have ran something like—can you not look at the fruit—see that what I am doing is for the good of people? Can you not see that we must strive to see that all of God’s creatures have the good things of this earth—that all are free, accepted and loved for who they are? Can you not see?—Jesus seems to be imploring.

On an even deeper level, he must have felt their rejection of him—of his person—of his truth and of the reason he laid his life out for them in the first place.  Because it wasn’t about his personal need to be the messiah or his desire for power, even though, in his humanity, those temptations were no doubt real as in our own lives. We have to struggle as did he with the right reasons for our decisions—is it about me or a greater good? And this kind of reflection is so very important so as to gain strength, like our brother, Jesus, to do the right thing now, in our time!

The Scriptures cry out with Jesus’ purpose—his frustration with his very human followers—“I’ve been with you all this time and still you don’t get it!”—or with the people in general—his weeping over Jerusalem for not understanding the message of Abba God and his own love for them.  His humanity crying out in the garden, like the prophets, like Paul would later pray—like us, “Take this cup, this affliction from me—I am not strong enough!”  Yet, the slow insistent, loving answer comes back from Abba God—my grace is sufficient—be strong, I am with you—I will not leave you. I think in the midst of our suffering and pain, we forget at times how Jesus suffered and if we remembered and asked for his help, we would have such strength, such hope, such determination to do the right thing—to persevere in goodness.  I forgot all this for a time this past week and found myself praying with Paul, “I know the right thing to do, but I didn’t do it!”

I think sometimes in remembering that Jesus was and is God, we forget or don’t give enough attention to the fact that he was also human, fully human.  This mystery of Jesus’ divine and human natures somehow existing in tandem, can be a bit to get our heads around, but we have these same natures too, that of humanity and of God, and when we are truly human— in our best selves, as God created us; we are most like God.

So, we come back to hope.  We see in the lives of the prophets, like Ezekiel this week, like Paul, like Jesus, and we think of others like Mary, his mother, Mary of Magdala, his friend—prophets all, taking on the tasks of priesthood, discipleship and servant hood—tasks that each of us are called to as well, by the simple fact that we name ourselves “Christian.”

We are told that Jesus was unable to do much in Nazareth because of the people’s lack of faith. Some of his neighbors, friends, perhaps even some of his family couldn’t see beyond the confines of their narrow minds to recognize the work of God in their midst. How many of us miss the work of God all around us in the goodness of daily and random acts of kindness done for us, for others—the challenges we are called to—to do likewise? When I pray with others, my prayer often includes a plea that this person would know that God is with them,  loving them and that they would be aware of God’s love through all the good people who come into their lives, doing bits of good.  We must have eyes of faith!

Yesterday,  we all remembered and celebrated the Fourth of July, a time of celebration for our country, remembering the courage and determination of a people to be free—our people—our forebears. Times of celebration mark our lives and make them special.  Each of us remembers the big times during the year, Christmas-Easter-Memorial Day-Fourth of July and Thanksgiving.  But how about the rest of the year?—do we remember to celebrate life-health-peace-family-love and caring-faith-goodness and so much more on a somewhat regular basis? A present day prophet, Joan Chittister once said, “The question is not, what should we celebrate, but, what shouldn’t we celebrate?  Every occasion is an occasion. It’s not the date on the calendar that matters; it’s the cognizance in our own soul of the amount of goodness around us that is in question.”  The earth around us is so full friends, this time of year—so much growth and beauty—hopefully, we stop and marvel at it all!

Jesus found a lack of faith, a bit of mean-spiritness even, an inability to believe the best—to see the miracle that love gives birth to. We should pray that our faith would be strong, with the clear knowledge that “God’s grace is sufficient” and therefore allow the miracles to unfold in our lives through the Spirit of Jesus for the People of God.  What will the miracles be?  Which ones will we become aware of?  May our eyes be open to all the good around us—miracles all!  Amen?  Amen!

This Sunday’s readings deal with death—and there is no getting around it—people have struggled with this question and the inevitability of our finiteness since the Garden of Eden—so we can hardly think we will be exempt from the struggle—the pain of death in our lives.  Why do people have to die, especially the ones we love and care most about in our lives?  That is the initial, albeit, selfish question that we all struggle with.  Beyond that, as we grow to hopefully become more altruistic, we extend our care to the wider world and ask the same questions that involve more of humanity—why is there fighting and killing, war;  poverty that takes life just as surely as a gun would? Why is there ignorance that blinds people to all that they can be?—and the list goes on that makes life less than good and abundant.  Pope Francis has basically asked our world these questions in his new encyclical, Laudato Si and has challenged us to look for the answers and he is wise enough to know that we all have to be part of the process.

Paul looks at this issue too today as he tries to instruct the Corinthians in how to care for others and for themselves, suggesting, striking a balance. He reminds the Corinthians of some words of wisdom and compassion: “The one who gathered much had no excess, and the one who gathered little, did not go short.” We are called my friends, to make sure that everyone has enough. When I first put down some of these thoughts three years ago, these were topics of concern in our country, as they are today.  Unfortunately, we have not yet allowed ourselves to see how we might fix this imbalance, although there is hope in the Supreme Court decisions concerning Obamacare and Gay Marriage rights this past week.

As we look at the readings chosen by the Church today for us to ponder, we see clearly how people have struggled through time with these same questions.  We even see in the Scriptures in general—over and above the chosen readings for this Sunday, that there isn’t a clear answer we can point to and say, “Ah—there it is, that explains why we die, why we suffer.”

In Genesis, Chapter 2, we read that God is responsible for death, “The moment you eat of the tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, you are surely doomed to die.”  In Genesis, Chapter 3, we read that the punishment for sin is not death, but pain and suffering—“until you return to the ground, from which you were taken.”  Now clearly these two stories don’t agree and it is important for us to understand that this ancient story is a reinterpretation of several earlier myths made into a new story.

The Israelite version of Genesis is trying to explain and make sense of evil in a world that was created good.  And apparently, they didn’t do such a good job of it, because people still want to know why a good God allows bad things to happen to good people.  Unlike earlier peoples who believed the world was made up of two warring deities, one responsible for good, one for evil; we are monotheists—believing that one God is responsible for everything and therein lays our problem—perhaps.

Now the Wisdom selection–our first reading for today makes some interesting claims: 1) God did not make death and 2) by envy of the devil, death entered the world.  All that can be said is that this is an example of later generations trying to make sense of the Genesis passage that seems to be saying that God is the author of death, either as a punishment or as an end to suffering.  Also, it is interesting that Genesis doesn’t name the devil as the serpent and doesn’t mention envy.  So much for the literalists out there!

Our Church follows a 3-year cycle of readings that instruct us on how to live our Christian lives.  Since we last shared these readings, three years ago, that ask us to look at death, some of you have lost significant loved ones and friends—some life partners.   Each year that passes brings each of us closer to our own deaths. Death is a reality and it can be painful when it happens to us or a loved one.  It is painful for many reasons.  Perhaps, if the death was unexpected, we regret what we did or didn’t do or weren’t able to do—maybe we are just grieving the loss of someone who meant so much to us.

Sometimes our society wants us to hurry our grieving along.  Some religious folk might insinuate that to grieve the loss of a loved one is bad or lacking in faith.  I would say that such thinking is misguided.  It is good to remember that even Jesus, in his humanity, wept at the death of a friend.  Death is an end to a part of life and it is the human condition to grieve the loss.

In bereavement work, we say, if you can get up each day, put one foot in front of the other, engage life—then grieving it quite normal. We never forget, nor should we, the loss of someone we loved. Sometimes we can only walk blindly through the mystery as did Jairus, the synagogue official who sought healing for his daughter from Jesus, even after he learned that she had in fact, died.

Hope is what we ultimately seek as we ponder the death of family members, friends, and our own death, for that matter. It might be that rather than questioning, “Why we die?”—we should ask instead, “How do we deal with the inevitability of death,” when we know that in fact it will come to each of us one day? When we are well, most of us don’t look forward to our lives ending—we look to the joy of experiencing life, even with its ups and downs. This life is all that we know—the life beyond, promised us, which we believe in, we don’t know, and can only walk in faith toward.   When we or our loved ones are incurably ill, we almost welcome death to have the suffering over with—several in our community were there this past spring. Your walk in faith, for, and with them called for great strength and patience.

The Gospel today gives us some insights into how we can deal with the inevitability of death—two life situations—the woman with the hemorrhage and Jairus, the synagogue official whose daughter has died.  First off, don’t you wish you knew the name of the woman with the hemorrhage? This is quite a person of faith—a real gutsy woman.  As you know, women had no status in this culture, so neither of the females is named in today’s gospel. These wonderful stories proclaim the compassion of Jesus for those who suffer—reminding us of what we can expect when suffering comes to us.  We must always remember to call on Jesus to be our strength in these circumstances.  Jesus demonstrates power over death in both situations—and both people needed a great deal of faith and trust to act as they did.

Our unnamed woman who was ostracized by the community over a flow of blood—something not understood, was set apart and looked down on out of ignorance.  I think it is significant that she isn’t even given an identity, but known only by her affliction.  People do have identities, and are not merely afflictions or individual body parts that need fixing. We do need to take them seriously—hear their stories as did Jesus in today’s gospel. It is good to remember that our brother Jesus was always turning things upside-down and calling us to be more than our humanity wants to be at times.

As an aside, this past week, a lively discussion ensued on Facebook, much to my delight, over the phrasing, “you guys.”  As advocates of the term will tell you, this phrasing means to include everyone and is used unfortunately at times, when only women are present. This for so long has seemed to be my issue alone and I have been told by my loving husband that this is one that I’m not going to win, even though he is very supportive.  So, to see a group of people advocating that we find words that do include us all made my heart sing!

Also, this past week, I have been part of the General Assembly of the Rochester Franciscans as a co-journer.  Nancy Sylvester, an Immaculate Heart of Mary sister was our main presenter and she helped us to understand in depth how different people come at the same problem with a different viewpoint based on what has influenced them in their lives: culture, tradition, religion, science,  and so to understand and work with each other whether a community, an organization, a family, whatever the group, we need to acquire good listening skills, patience and compassionate hearts. And when we disagree with someone, we all know how difficult it can be to hang in there and find out why someone feels and acts as they do, because if we would ask another question rather than walking away in frustration; we might come to understanding. This kind of process is very important when working in groups of people that we truly care about.

Looking again at the poor, unnamed woman—we already know of all the taboos that women in this society lived with that made them unclean each month.  This poor woman experienced hemorrhages for 12 years—we can only imagine the pain and isolation with which she lived.  Perhaps this made her faith all the stronger—she may even have felt that she had nothing to lose in asking for Jesus’ help. Often friends, this is the case—out of great suffering can come great strength of character—great faith—great determination.  I know if I were to ask each of you in this community who have walked through the death of a life-long partner, you would tell me that while painful, you are stronger for what it called forth from you.

Focusing again on Jairus, he believed not only that Jesuscould heal, but more importantly, that he would heal. Jairus and the unnamed woman trusted this truth.  Jairus came to Jesus knowing that his daughter was gravely ill and even when he learned that she had died, he blindly trusted.

Even though the two stories offered today for our reflection remind us of Jesus’–of God’s great compassion for us, they might mislead us too—if we think our faith will ultimately save us from death. Even though the unnamed woman and Jairus’ daughter experienced healing in time, they were not saved from the death that would eventually overtake them. God always means to heal us for there are many ways to heal—in other words—God always answers our prayers—gives us something.  Because we share the human condition, we are not spared from ultimate death.  Even Jesus had to go through that ultimate human ending.

Issues of life and death and what we are called to as followers of our brother Jesus demand strength, faith, and compassion and if we can take anything from today’s readings, let it be that we ask the right question—not, why death?–because none of us will escape that—but to ask—how do we live with this reality?  It would seem that trust is a significant part of it.  Life and death literally asks us to place ourselves in Jesus’ loving hands. The question we must ask then is if we believe and trust that we are safe there, not knowing exactly the outcome, but trusting that we will be cared for just the same.

Life is made up of living and dying; physical, emotional and spiritual happenings. The Rochester Franciscans, comprised of sisters and co-journers came together this week to share all that is good in this community, along with discussing what the future of this order will be as sisters age and very few come to join them in the same ways as in the past. It would seem that the face of the order is changing and perhaps the increasing numbers of co-journers signals what the face of the order will be in the future.  All of this calls for dying and rising, for great faith, patience and a deep listening to each other and the movement of the Spirit. May her wisdom truly be our own.