Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A) March 2 (Isaiah 49:14-15; Psalm 62; 1 Corinthians 4:1-5; Matthew 6:24-34)

Many at one time or another have felt abandoned or forgotten by God. Faced with the many painful and disconcerting situations that life can deal us, they wonder if God cares or even remembers them.

In our normal, daily lives we are invariably so self-preoccupied that we find it difficult to accord others the same reality and value we give to ourselves. It’s difficult for us to live in true empathy because we are forever consumed with our own heartaches and headaches.

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A) Feb. 16, 2014 (Sirach 15:15-20; Psalm 119; 1 Corinthians 2:6-10; Matthew 5:17-37)

Accepting responsibility for one’s actions is a rather uncommon human trait. People love to blame everyone and everything — it’s the fault of my parents, my religion, my environment, my genes or even God. The role of victim is more comfortable than that of perpetrator.

For more than a thousand years, Christians have not had the joy of being one family around Christ. Although there were already tensions within the earliest Christian communities, it was not until the year 1054 that there was a formal split so as to, in effect, establish two formal Christian communities, the Orthodox Church and the Catholic Church in the West. Then, with the Protestant Reformation in the 16th century, there was a further split within the Western Church and Christianity fragmented still further. Today there are more than a hundred Christian denominations, many of them, sadly, not on friendly terms with each other.

On one of the darkest, chilliest days of the year, I met an old friend. This day had been long coming: I’d accidentally managed to stand him up a couple of times before this rendez-vous. He forgave me.

Given the speed and change in our world today, the oceans of information being given us by the new technologies, the speed with which knowledge now passes through our lives, the increasing specialization and fragmentation inside higher education and the ever-increasing complexity of our lives, you occasionally hear someone say, usually just after offering an opinion on something: But what do I know anyway? Good question: What do we know anyway?

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A) Feb. 9 (Isaiah 58:6-10; Psalm 112; 1 Corinthians 2:1-5; Matthew 5:13-16)

Religion can be a risky business. The prophets of Israel and Jesus of Nazareth recognized the care and spiritual awareness required in the exercise of faith and worship. Without this care, religion — any religion — can become many things, none of them divine: opiate of the masses, maintainer of the status quo, superstition and even a tool of oppression.

In his deeply insightful book Violence Unveiled, Gil Bailie takes us through a remarkable section of the diaries of Captain James Cook, the famed British scientist and explorer. Visiting Tahiti in 1777, Cook was taken one day by a local tribal chief to witness a ritual where a man was sacrificed as an offering to the god, Eatooa. The man was being sacrificed in hope that this particular god would give the tribe some assistance in an upcoming war. Cook, though friendly to the local peoples, could not conceal his detestation for what he considered both a barbaric and superstitious act. In a conversation with the chief afterwards, Cook told him that in England they would hang a man for doing that.

Presentation of the Lord (Year A) Feb. 2 (Malachi 3:1-4; Psalm 24; Hebrews 2:10-11, 13b-18; Luke 2:22-40)

The prophet Malachi was a rather disappointed and angry man. It was some time in the late sixth and early fifth centuries BC. The exiles had returned from Babylon but the prophesied rebirth and restoration of the nation had not occurred. The nation was struggling to rebuild its economic and political life.