Monthly Archives: July 2024

Reflecting on John 6: 1-15

According to a (very flawed) survey from several years ago, many Catholics see the Eucharist as a “symbolic reminder.”

Does that seem plausible to you? I’ve never believed it. I think those who responded didn’t understand the meaning of “transubstantiation.” A Catholic who doesn’t believe in REAL PRESENCE is the equivalent of a science student who thinks the earth is flat. The most critical building block for Catholic faith is missing, and a house without a strong foundation cannot stand.

The next step in dismantling the faith would be to believe that the gospels are “symbolic reminders” too. Every miracle is symbolic; every story involving Jesus is an invention of the evangelists. Let’s test that theory with today’s gospel, the first of our four-week interruption of Mark’s gospel with the Eucharistic stories in John 6.

Did the multiplication of the loaves and fish really happen, or is it symbolic? All four gospels assure us that it REALLY HAPPENED, and, as usual, John’s gospel gives us some new information. For example, why does Jesus ask Philip where to go to buy food for the massive group of followers? Because Philip is from Bethsaida (the likely locale for this miracle), and the word Bethsaida means “fishing village.” Philip was precisely the person to ask.

Why barley loaves? Because the feast of Passover, which only John tells us was “at hand,” coincides with the barley harvest. And why did Jesus choose this particular day in the Jewish calendar to feed the multitudes? Because it echoes the story of God feeding the hungry, wandering Israelites in the Exodus from Egypt, which is, of course, the Passover story. (Ex. 16).

So beautiful. So REALLY TRUE.

How does learning the background of the gospel stories stir and build your faith?

Kathy McGovern ©2024

Reflecting on Mark 6: 30-34

There are shepherds in our lives who may have gone to God decades ago but live in our DNA so deeply that, without our realizing it, are still touching us many times a day. I’m sure dear Miss McMurria, my kindergarten teacher, would be shocked to know that a photo of our play (I was a stalk of corn) rotates with hundreds of other photographs on my computer screen. My life flashes before me every two to three days, and there she is, young and beautiful, smiling at the camera. That was 68 years ago. That was yesterday.

When I stand in front of a classroom of adult students, I bless my high school speech teacher, who taught me how to quiet my nerves and project to the end of the room. And I never teach a word of scripture without channeling my own scripture teachers. They are with me in every word.

And yes, there have been some terrible shepherds, too. Every math teacher I ever had made me cry, and I realize now how I must have made them cry, too, when they saw me walk into the room. I’ve heard some terrible homilies. I’ve listened to many stunningly beautiful ones.

What kind of shepherd are you? Are you the friend who glibly promises to pray for a friend’s teenager but never does? The parent who checks your phone hundreds of times daily but checks in with your kids far less? The aging parent who tells your aching adult child that you refuse to revisit the past? Or are you that strong, wonderful shepherd whose sheep feel utterly safe and loved?

Each of us is shepherding someone. How will you be remembered?

Who is a particularly great shepherd in your life?

Kathy McGovern ©2024

Reflecting on Amos 7: 12-15

Sometimes, when I read a beautiful scripture text, I wander off into the world the text describes. It’s fun to imagine little Amos talking back to the big-shot priest in the king’s sanctuary. Amaziah isn’t happy with the challenges Amos presents to him and to the affluent Jews living in the North. Amos keeps harping on the scandal of the financial inequities that exist in the North. The rich have found a way to make many times more than those who are poor, and they don’t care about the suffering of those who missed out on the big economic windfalls. Sound familiar?

Amaziah is cozy with the king. And then this Amos shows up, as annoying as sand in your swimsuit. Go back and make a living as a prophet in your own hometown! They don’t have any money there. They’ll like your rampages against unethical business practices!

This is funny. Amaziah assumes Amos is in the prophecy business because he can make a living from it. Why else would someone set up shop in a new town and start criticizing the (deeply heretical) status quo? Amos rails back that he was just a shepherd and dresser of trees, minding his own business, when God called him to leave it all and move up north to speak of God’s great displeasure with how religion and royal power have converged there.

But then my mind wandered to this from the responsorial psalm, another convergence, but the kind with God in the middle of it: kindness and truth shall meet, justice and peace shall kiss. Imagine kindness and truth meeting. Imagine justice and peace kissing. Imagine that world. Amos imagined it, too.

How have you tried, in your own way, to build a more just society?

Kathy McGovern ©2024

Reflecting on 2 Corinthians 12: 7-10

This is the fifth Sunday in a row in which we’ve read from 2 Corinthians. I’m so glad we conclude today with my favorite phrase from that entire letter: My grace is sufficient for you (12:9). I must remind myself of that promise a few times every day, and it’s true every single time.

Now, there were times when I experienced grace in droves—tons and tons of it. And there were a few times—getting further and further in the rearview mirror, thank God—when the only grace I could cling to was that exact scripture, hanging under a photograph on my bedroom wall. It became my mantra, and, over time, the grace I begged for visited me again.

I suppose it depends on what the word “sufficient” means. Today, healthy and robust, sufficient grace means the grace to meet the world with competence, preparation, and prayer. Many, many years ago, sufficient grace meant enough strength to breathe. I need more grace, I told God. My grace is sufficient for you, the poster on the wall replied. Just barely, I returned. Just barely.

It’s possible that some dear reader out there today is hanging on by the barest thread of grace. Maybe it’s a terrible physical illness. Perhaps it’s a terrible loss. Perhaps it’s despair. It’s possible that some reader has already begged God for more grace already today. Okay, Church, let’s do this:

Imagine that person. God knows who it is, so we don’t have to. Pray for sufficient grace for him or her. As Elizabeth said to Mary at the Visitation, “Happy are you who believed that the promise of the Lord would be fulfilled” (Luke 1:45).

Do you need more grace today? Expect that you are included in this prayer.

Kathy McGovern ©2024