Sunday's Gospel: What Is a Winnowing Fork?!

The following is republished with permission from my column in Catechist Magazine.  For subscription information, visit Catechist.com.

December 4, Second Sunday in Advent, Gospel Reading:  Matthew 3:1-12

“You brood of vipers!” We always know it is the Second Sunday in Advent when John the Baptist bursts onto the scene. The colorful prophet who preceded Jesus preaches and shouts from the Judean desert, and his voice rings out just as loudly and clearly for us today.

The Gospels tell us that John viewed himself as a prophetic forerunner of the Messiah. In this Sunday’s reading, after his call for repentance and his warnings to the Pharisees and Sadducees, John speaks of Jesus, though not yet by name. He refers to “the one coming after me” and describes the imminent ministry of the Messiah with strong language. The Messiah will be “mighty” and will baptize “with the Holy Spirit and fire.”

John then describes the Messiah as a discerning judge who will separate the good from the bad: “His winnowing fan is in his hand. He will clear his threshing floor and gather his wheat into his barn, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

This agricultural image may be unfamiliar to modern readers. John is describing the winnowing or threshing process farmers utilized to separate husks from grains of wheat. They used winnowing fans (or forks) to toss the harvested grain into the air. The chaff (the unwanted husks) would separate from the grain and be lifted away by the breeze, while the heavier grain would settle back onto the ground. The farmer could then gather the grain and store it in his barn.

John uses this image to describe the judgment Jesus will ultimately bring. After using his winnowing fan, Jesus will “clear his threshing floor,” gathering the good grain into his barn and burning the unwanted chaff with “unquenchable fire.”

This depiction of Jesus as the one who separates good from bad, then gathers the good to himself and burns the bad, may not be our favorite image of Jesus from the Gospels. But it is one that John the Baptist and the evangelists after him wanted us to hear. We are not supposed to be afraid of Jesus or of future judgment, but we are supposed to be forewarned and aware: What we do and who we are matters to God. We cannot be with Jesus, in his warm barn full of good grain, unless we are ready.

Fortunately for us, the winnowing process has already begun. The words of Jesus and his forerunner John the Baptist have already begun threshing us, separating the worthless, husky part of us from the valuable, substantial grain.

ASK YOURSELF: How do I feel the winnowing fan of Jesus already at work in my life? Am I letting him separate the bad from the good in my heart?

ASK YOUR STUDENTS: Why do you think John the Baptist and Jesus used common images (such as the farming image John the Baptist uses in today’s reading) when they preached to the people?

PRAY: Lord Jesus, I know you will be my final judge. May you find me worthy to be gathered into your barn.

LIVE THE GOSPEL: Is there a bad habit you can “winnow” out of your life so you can be “less husk” and more “good grain”? Choose one bad habit to work on this week.

Sunday's Gospel: The Rich Man and Lazarus

The following is re-published with permission from my column in Catechist magazine:  "Lessons for the Sunday Gospels."  For subscription information, visit Catechist.com.

September 25, 2016

26th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Gospel Reading:  Luke 16:19-31

Our last Gospel reading for the month continues the trend of unique parables from Luke. We also have a continuation of the themes of repentance and the dan­gers of wealth.

A first thing to notice is that Jesus is once again speaking to the Pharisees. We may be tempted to vilify the Pharisees and see them as the archenemies of Jesus who are nothing like us. But the great error of the Pharisees is the error of us all—an inability to think outside the box of our own minds and an unwillingness to hold ourselves to the same standards to which we hold everyone else. The parables of Jesus urge his audience—including and especially the Pharisees—to reassess themselves in light of his challenging message. When we read and study the Gospels, we must understand that we are not only the disciples of Jesus; we are also the Pharisees.

It is hard to imagine a man who would daily walk past a starving man covered in sores on his door­step. Once again the master story­teller has provided us with a strong and unforgettable image to convey his equally strong and unforget­table message. The rich man was likely not guilty of evil and hatred toward Lazarus. Instead, he was guilty of the insidious condition of desensitization. Lazarus was like a fixture outside the doors of his home; the rich man had stopped seeing him, even though he was there. He went on about his com­fortable life with no regard for the suffering on his own doorstep.

This is a message we contempo­rary Christians can relate to. There is so much suffering in the world that we feel helpless to improve. But if we give up, if we give in to our own comforts and stop seeing the suffering, we fall short. Indeed, Jesus calls us to repent—change our minds, change our ways, do an “about face.” Once again, Jesus calls us to look at life with new clarity, to see the suffering even on our own doorsteps, to stop and take care of the Lazarus that we encounter.

The consequences of desensi­tization and inaction are extreme, not only in terms of judgment and eternity, but in terms of our failure to develop into the compassionate human beings God created us and Jesus calls us to be. The words of Pope Francis come to mind:

"Sometimes we are tempted to be that kind of Christian who keeps the Lord’s wounds at arm’s length. Yet Jesus wants us to touch human misery, to touch the suffering flesh of others. He hopes that we will stop looking for those personal or com­munal niches which shelter us from the maelstrom of human misfortune and instead enter into the reality of other people’s lives and know the power of tenderness. Whenever we do so, our lives become wonderfully complicated and we experience intensely what it is to be a people, to be part of a people" (Evangelii Gaud­ium, 270). 

ASK YOURSELF: What human suffering in my life has become so familiar that I tend to ignore it? How can I deliberately take time to stop, touch, and serve the Lazarus on my own doorstep?

ASK YOUR STUDENTS: Why do you think Jesus made a point to tell us that the man who ignored Lazarus was rich? Is it bad to have money and material things? What is “dan­gerous” about having these things?

PRAY: Jesus, your teachings call me to a new way of seeing the familiar world around me. Please give me clarity and energy to see and serve those who suffer.

LIVE THE GOSPEL: Pick someone you have accidentally or intention­ally ignored recently. Reconnect with them this week. 

A series of drawings of the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus by Eugene Burnand (1850-1921).  

Eugene Burnand (1850-1921)

Eugene Burnand (1850-1921)

How to Pray (for wine at a party)

The following is reprinted from my column in Catechist Magazine, with permission from Catechist.  It is a reflection on this Sunday’s Gospel reading.

 Sun., Jan. 17, Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

John 2:1-11

The story of the miracle at the wedding at Cana continues the theme of revealing Jesus that began on the Epiphany and continued at Jesus’ baptism, where he was revealed as God’s beloved and anointed son. In this story, Jesus will be revealed to his disciples and others as one who works great signs.

This story from John’s Gospel also gives us an opportunity to reflect on the faith of Mary, the mother of Jesus. She impresses us with her concern for others, her attention to detail, and her unflinching faith. She is an example we can follow. In fact, she teaches us how to pray.

As we know, the hosts of the wedding celebration were running low on wine. Mary noticed this and wanted to help. So what did Mary do? She did not walk around wringing her hands and worrying. She did not grab her wallet and run to the market to “fix it” herself. Instead she immediately went to Jesus. 

We may be surprised or even amused by Jesus’ response. He doesn’t seem very interested. He even seems to rebuff Mary a bit. But what does Mary do? She doesn’t give up and assume he will not help. She does not lose faith in Jesus. Instead she trusts that he heard her and will respond. She tells the servants to be ready: “Do whatever he tells you.”

What is the result of Mary’s petition? Jesus responds with a miracle, of course. Jugs of water are turned into lots and lots of wine—really good wine! 

Like Mary, we should also walk right up to Jesus and tell him about our needs and concerns. They don’t have to be big things. After all, this whole story is about wine at a party! If Jesus does not seem to respond right away, we can be assured that it is not because he isn’t interested or doesn’t care. We can be patient and hopeful and trust in him like Mary did. And just as he did at Cana, when he does respond, he will respond with power. He will do lots and lots of really good things in our lives. 

Reprinted with permission from Catechist Magazine.  For subscription information visit catechist.com. 

"King of the Universe"

This Sunday is one of my favorite feast days, the Feast of Christ the King!  I’m always hoping for a spirited rendition of “Lift High the Cross.”

Below is my reflection on Sunday’s Gospel, republished here with permission from Catechist Magazine, where it originally appeared.

To read this Sunday’s Gospel, click here:  John 18:33-37.

Reflect:  This Sunday we celebrate the great solemnity of Christ the King. We honor the glory and dominion of Christ with the grand title “King of the Universe.”

But what is the nature of this kingship? What does Jesus mean when he stands before Pilate, beaten and bleeding, and says, “My kingdom does not belong to this world?”

When we look into the pages of the Gospels, we do not find the things that our world associates with kings. We find no jeweled crown, no vast estates, and no wealth to speak of. We find no armies, no servants, and no political power. In fact, we find that most Gospel references to Jesus as a “king” are insults! They are sarcastic words meant to humiliate Jesus. Recall the Roman soldiers who stood before him as he hung on the cross and called out: “If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself!” (Luke 23:37). They had already placed on him a crown of thorns and purple robes, and kneeling in front of him, they had laughed at this “king” (Matthew 27:29).

The kingship of Jesus is a paradox, a contradiction. Yes, our God is mighty, powerful, and wealthy beyond comprehension. But in his son Jesus, he has shown himself to be deliberately weak, powerless, and poor. This is the kind of king we worship. This is the divine king who became human, like us. This is the king who wrought our salvation through blood, sweat and tears. This is the king that bewildered many of his contemporaries but ultimately “makes sense” to his followers. This is the king who reigns in our hearts.

It is fitting that the celebration of Christ the King directly precedes our Advent observance. Our celebration of the deliberately humble kingship of Jesus prepares us for the coming of the small and vulnerable Christ child. Even the lowly manger, his first throne, signifies the kind of king we have in Jesus. He does not reign from a distant castle or a fortified compound. This king is present with us. He is close to us. He is one of us.

Ask Yourself: How can I imitate the deliberate poverty and humility of Christ? How does this give me strength and power?

Pray: Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, teach my heart the true meaning of power as humility, service and love. May I embrace the quiet power of your manger and your cross.

Ask Your Students: How does our world understand power? How does Jesus understand power (think about the kind of power he shows us on the cross)? Which kind of power should we strive for?

Reprinted with permission from CATECHIST magazine.  For subscription information visit catechist.com. 

Christ with Thorns, Carl Bloch (1834-1890)

I'm writing for CATECHIST magazine!

Beginning with the current September issue, you will find my reflections on the Sunday Gospels in CATECHIST magazine in a monthly feature called:  “Sunday throughout the Week:  Lessons for the Sunday Gospels.”  I’m excited to be a part of CATECHIST magazine and its mission to support catechists with spiritual enrichment, classroom advice, useful materials, and creative ideas. 

CATECHIST has been around for a long time – I used to read all the old copies that Sr. Blanche left in her office when I was a D.R.E.!  Even the issues that were 10 years old (or older, God bless her!) were helpful to me.

The folks at CATECHIST have given me permission to publish one of my Gospel reflections per month on my blog.  This coming Sunday is Catechetical Sunday.  Many of you are catechists, so I wanted to share this Sunday’s reflection, with permission from CATECHIST magazine.

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September 20, Catechetical Sunday

Read:  Mark 9:30-37

Reflect: Although this week’s Gospel reading is simply a continuation of Mark’s narrative, it seems it was hand-picked for Catechetical Sunday! The lectionary has provided a lovely meditation for catechists on this special day.

As Mark’s Gospel narrative moves forward, Jesus continues to teach his disciples that suffering awaits him in Jerusalem. Mark plainly states that his disciples do not understand. In fact, their disregard for Jesus’ message is so profound that rather than taking his words to heart, they begin to argue with one another about which one of them is the greatest.

But it is this self-centered and woefully human argument that prompts a great teaching moment from Jesus—and a moment that catechists should treasure. In order to teach the disciples about true greatness, Jesus places a child in their midst. He embraces the child. And then he says something unbelievable: to receive this child—to love him, teach him, embrace him—is to love Jesus himself, and in loving Jesus, to love the Father.

This message is for you on this Catechetical Sunday. You are not a catechist for the glory or the greatness. You never expected that. You are a catechist for the sake of the little ones. When you receive them, you already know that you receive the Lord. In this story, the child represents all of those who are often overlooked or who seem unimportant in the eyes of the world. To serve such a one is true greatness. As a catechist, you already get it: “If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be . . . the servant of all.”

Ask Yourself:  How does my role as a catechist help me understand true greatness? Do I see Christ in the children I serve?

Ask Your Students:  Did you know that Jesus taught adults they could love God by loving children? Does this make sense to you? Why or why not?

Pray:  Lord Jesus, in my work as a catechist, I receive you as I receive the children in my life.

Reprinted with permission from CATECHIST magazine.  For subscription information visit, catechist.com.