“It is no use saying that we are born two thousand years too late to give room to Christ. Nor will those who live at the end of the world have
been born too late. Christ is always with us, always asking for room in our hearts. But now it is with the voice of our contemporaries that he speaks; with the eyes of store clerks, factory workers and children that he gazes; with the hands of office workers, slum dwellers, and suburban housewives that he gives, and with the heart of anyone in need that he longs for shelter.”
- Dorothy Day
(How does Christ speak to you "with the voice of our contemporaries?") _____ Christianity and Spirituality monthly forum - tonight! January 4, 2023 is still on: 7:30 - 8:30 p.m. CST Open Forum: books that have made a difference in your life. Free sign up for Zoom link
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1 Jn 3:7-10; Ps 98:1, 7-8, 9 Jn 1:35-42 John
was standing with two of his disciples,
and as he watched Jesus walk by, he said,
“Behold, the Lamb of God.”
The two disciples heard what he said and followed Jesus.
Jesus turned
and saw them following him and said to them,
“What are you looking for?”
They said to him, “Rabbi” (which translated means Teacher),
“where are you staying?”
He said to them,
“Come, and you will see.”
So they went and saw where he was staying,
and they stayed with him that day.
It was about four in the afternoon.
Andrew, the brother of Simon
Peter,
was one of the two who heard John and followed Jesus.
He first found his own brother Simon and told him,
“We have found the Messiah,” which is translated Christ.
Then he
brought him to Jesus.
Jesus looked at him and said,
“You are Simon the son of John;
you will be called Cephas,” which is translated Peter.
Reflection on the Scriptures
Today's readings, and in particular our gospel passage from John, together evoke a strong tone of hope. While not the greatest of the theological virtues (according to
Paul), hope can in no small way inspire in us a sort of spiritual strength. I think of hope as the acknowledgement that what we truly desire - those deepest and most sincere desires - may just come to pass; or put another way, that what we desire may just align with God's will. At the same time, hope may seem a more 'shaky' virtue when compared to faith or love. The act of hoping might make one feel naive, passive, or foolish. For instance, I hoped this thing would come to pass, but it did not.
This can cause one to question the very validity of hope at all and may even cause us to lose faith. Considering all the above, I still come down on the side of hope, and for me, Peter is the companion of Jesus who best exemplifies hope as anything but a fruitless virtue or some form of foolish naivete. Take,
for example, today's reading from John's gospel. Peter's entrance at the end of it is sudden, perhaps easily missed, and even comical. Peter does not introduce himself in this encounter with Jesus. He doesn't have the chance. Jesus sees him, announces to him Peter's own name (then, Simon), and then changes it! For the follower of Jesus, though, isn't this precisely what we yearn for? For Jesus to know us, acknowledge us, and call us by name? If it happened to Peter who didn't even know Jesus,
perhaps it could happen to us. Fast forward to the final chapter of John's gospel when Peter and the disciples realize it is Jesus on the shore as they fish. Despite Peter's betrayal of Jesus in his very hour of need, Jesus offers redemption. If that happened for Peter, perhaps that could happen for us. -by Scott McClure
St. John of the Cross and the Beginning of Contemplation
by James Arraj From St. John of the Cross and Dr. C. J. Jung, Part II, Chapter 4. Inner Growth Books, 1986.
Mysticism in the Time of St. John
The Inquisition hovered in the background around such notable figures as John of Avila, Luis of Granada, and Ignatius Loyola. St. Teresa and St. John themselves had their writings
scrutinized by it, and there is the strong possibility that this climate of suspicion prevented many perfectly orthodox spiritual writers from expressing themselves clearly about the mystical path. St. John, therefore, had to resist two very different kinds of pressures: the first came from a popular taste for visions, revelations and extravagant penances, and at times his confreres could not understand his lack of interest in such things. The second came from the Inquisition and the
inquisitorial mentality that grew up in his own order with the ascendancy of Nicholas Doria as Provincial. John, who upheld the primacy of contemplation, the independence of the Carmelite sisters from central control, who had a distaste for permanent office-holding, and who wrote extensively on the passivity of the faculties in contemplation, must have appeared all too close to dangerous ground to this type of authoritarian mind. It is not surprising, then, that there was not any rush to publish St. John's writings in the years immediately following his death in 1591. It was not until 1601 that the matter was brought up, and it was not successfully concluded until 1618.
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