Readings: 2 Peter 1:2-7, Psalm 91: 1-2, 14-16; Gospel: Mark 12:1-12
During my morning prayer lately I’ve had a motley crew of companions. Often the self-appointed cantors are two noisy crow- like grackles. They try to scare away other regular attendees: some sparrows, a dove and some finches. In the background the silence of a budding rose sings praise to God eloquently.
In this unspectacular sanctuary, I try to listen for the blessings and challenge of Scripture. ‘May grace and peace be ours in abundance through knowledge of God’, our first reading tells us.God's power working in us gives us everything we need. I ask for the gift of wonder and a renewed sense of my dependency upon God's love. Drawn to the Psalm, I pray: We dwell in the shelter of Infinite Light; abiding in love, we raise our voices in praise.Our refuge and strength, God, you alone will we trust.You deliver us from the webs of fear and illusion. You protect us as we call upon your name.All through the years you dwell in our hearts, a Loving Companion.
Aware of our holy ancestors, today we honor Marcellinus and Peter. Even though they are part of the Eucharistic prayer, almost nothing is known of them. Marcellinus, a priest and Peter , an exorcist are described as great sources of encouragement throughout the whole church.We believe those who gave the ultimate witness of their faith and love by shedding their blood are quite close to us. We also celebrate the lives of some Dominicans martyrs: Blessed Sadoc and his brothers. In Poland Sadoc preached the gospel for nearly 40 years. In 1260 he and his 48 companions were martyred by the Tartars as they intoned the Salve Regina at Night Prayer . The custom of singing the Salve at the deathbed of our Dominican family members stems from this incident.
Today's saints and our gospel point to the reality that violence and death abound. They remind us that God is the source of all gifts and that we are accountable for what God has entrusted to us. We may not consider ourselves violent, but we can still be death-dealing like the gospel tenant farmers at times. I had to ask myself: Are my comments sources of encouragement… or have they disheartened someone lately? Has my silence been a sign of prayer in solidarity with those suffering or a way of resisting opportunities before me? It takes so little to chip away at our own or someone else's storehouse of love, faith and trust.
Seeking grace and peace, seeking our God , Henri Nouwen assures us: " Once we’ve come to an inner knowledge--a knowledge more of the heart than the mind-- that we are born out of love and will die into love, that every part of our being is deeply rooted in love, and that this love is our true Mother and Father--then, all forms of evil, illness and death lose their final power over us."
As my reflection time concludes, the pesky grackle annoys me by stealing more food from my other prayer partners perched nearby. A dove pecks away at the ground to forage leftovers from the feeder above. The black grackle and the religious leaders in the gospel teach me-- I too have a dark side. I can be unyielding. The dove gifts me, displaying a holy persistence. Today's martyrs show me the meaning of lives poured out in love. The rose urges me to bless ALL-- my light and my darkness, my strengths and weakness. I look at the very center of the rose, where its life is most intense. I bless it and the silent song of solitude in urges me to keep singing .God's story, creation' s story and our stories are intimately connected. Through each of us-- our sin and our coming to this table for healing-- God's Word continues to be spoken. May we be startled again, dear God, by your unfailing trust in US. Along the way, let us listen more attentively to the companions you give us.
