Sunday Scriptures

In our first reading this weekend of Aug. 14-15, we experience the fantastic imagery found in Revelation 12, where a woman gives birth to her son, while the dragon stands by, waiting to devour the child. The son, however, is “caught up to God and his throne,” and “the woman herself fled into the desert where she had a place prepared by God” (Rv 12:5b-6a).

St. Augustine, commenting on the Gospel of John’s “Bread of Life” passage in the fourth century, questioned the wisdom of living only for this present life when he wrote, “You seek me for the flesh, not for the spirit. How many seek Jesus for no other purpose than that he may do them good in this present life! ... Scarcely ever is Jesus sought for Jesus’ sake.” From the time of Moses in the desert, to Jesus in Capernaum, to our own day in a time of pandemic, do we live with our sights set on this world, or upon the Lord who has given us himself as the true Bread that has come down from heaven?

“He said to them, ‘Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while.’ People were coming and going in great numbers, and they had no opportunity even to eat. ... When he disembarked and saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, for they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.”

In our Catholic faith, we are frequently drawn to thinking about life and death. Our entire faith is centered around the death and resurrection of Jesus. Even in our church buildings, a visual centerpiece is the crucifix. We know all of this through faith.

“This is how it is with the kingdom of God ….” So begins the two parables from the Gospel of Mark on this Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time. These parables are addressed to the whole Church and all its members to give us all courage and assurance when our efforts at building up the kingdom of God on this planet seem to produce such meager results.

Too often Christian believers are prone to regard the mystery of the Trinity as a piece of theological trivia, with little practical relevance for their lives. “The God I believe in is three-persons-in-one-essence, or so I am told,” we might hear ourselves saying. “It’s weird, but it’s the way it is, and we may as well just accept it and move on.”

Back in the late 1960s and early 1970s, there was a great push in some Catholic worshiping communities to “make the liturgy relevant.” Usually that meant the homilist was supposed to address an issue of burning concern to civic life, such as the war in Vietnam or concern for civil rights. Musicians, in turn, were asked to import into the liturgy songs from the surrounding aural culture, such as “Prepare Ye” from “Godspell” as a chant for Advent, or the Edwin Hawkins Singers’ “O Happy Day” as an anthem for Easter.

Back in the late 1960s and early 1970s, there was a great push in some Catholic worshiping communities to “make the liturgy relevant.” Usually that meant the homilist was supposed to address an issue of burning concern to civic life, such as the war in Vietnam or concern for civil rights. Musicians, in turn, were asked to import into the liturgy songs from the surrounding aural culture, such as “Prepare Ye” from “Godspell” as a chant for Advent, or the Edwin Hawkins Singers’ “O Happy Day” as an anthem for Easter.