Scripture Reflections Seeking Understanding

One of the blessings of life in my home parish is that, once a month, we welcome the Ephpheta community for the deaf and hard of hearing into our liturgy. Sometimes I am lucky enough to be rostered on as the commentator at Mass, and I get to use the very few words or phrases in Auslan that I have picked up from them. The deaf community are very generous in their response when I sign Good Morning, Thank You or Peace be With You at various points in the Mass. No matter how poorly I do it. What brings the community to mind for me this week is the Gospel reading about the Good Shepherd. In it, Jesus declares that ‘when the shepherd leads out his flock, the sheep follow because they know his voice. They never follow a stranger because they do not recognise the voice of strangers’ . It is a strong sensory image, and one that makes sense when I think of calling home from overseas and hearing my wife’s voice at the end of the line. Once I can hear her voice, we no longer seem so far apart....

This Sunday we hear the story of Jesus' post-resurrection appearance on the road to Emmaus.  Luke tells us that Cleopas is returning home with an un-named companion. They have witnessed Jesus' passion and death, but have not yet heard the Good News of His resurrection.  In his account of the crucifixion, John tells us that Mary, the wife of Cleopas, was with Jesus' mother at the foot of the cross.  Tradition tells us that Cleopas was the brother of St Joseph.  His wife then is Mary's sister-in-law, comforting her in her anguish.  In this context then, a number of biblical scholars suggest that the two disciples making their way home on the road to Emmaus are Cleopas and Mary, his wife.  How remarkable is it then that the two who did not know Jesus on the road are His own uncle and aunt, so shrouded are they by their grief?  When Jesus accepts their invitation to stay with them and share bread at their table, it would hardly have been the first time. Bu...

Back in February, just as our Lenten journey was beginning, I heard an interview with Australia's newest Winter Olympics gold medalist. When asked how it felt to win, she said that it had not yet begun to sink in. In other words, the initial euphoria of her victory had not yet given way to what it would mean to her in terms of opportunities and future support for her career.  This Sunday we celebrate the Octave of Easter - a period of eight days after the major feast of our faith - an opportunity to extend both our observance and our reflection, to allow what it is that we are celebrating to really sink in.  In the reading from the Acts of the Apostles, our record of the early Church's  faith  response to the ultimate revelation of God's love for us, we are told that "the whole community remained faithful" to the teaching of the apostles and the beginnings of what we would recognise as the sacramental life of the Church. In the Gospel, however, we hear the story ...

This week we have entered into that particular time of our liturgical year that defines our Christian faith, and our relationship with God – the Paschal Triduum. From the beginning of the Mass of the Lord’s supper on Thursday evening to the vigil of the Resurrection is one liturgical movement, one extended moment of prayer, reconciliation and thanksgiving that gives life to the Church. There is no dismissal or sending forth at the end of the Mass on Holy Thursday, and the vigil itself begins with the Exsultet. We are sent forth only after we have renewed our faith in the living God as Easter people. At the heart of this lies the Passion of Jesus – of the One that loves us even to death on a cross.   We are all familiar with the story of Christ’s passion, and could all do a reasonable job of recounting the story, from the upper room, to Gethsemane, the home of the chief priest, the praetorium and calvary. But it is Isaiah’s account of the suffering servant that draws my atte...