Recharge Your Spiritual Batteries: The Power of Gratitude

 28 Sunday of OT

Thanksgiving offers us an opportunity to recharge not only our physical batteries but also our spiritual ones. Through the readings of Scripture, we discover that God's blessings remain present even during times of difficulty, and that gratitude helps us recognize and receive these gifts. By appreciating what God has given us and sharing those gifts with others, we can experience something of the joy of heaven in our lives today.

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Have you ever had the experience of getting into your car, turning the key, and discovering that the battery is dead? It's a terrible feeling, especially when you're in a hurry. This happened to me once when I was waiting in line to board a ferry. When it was time to move forward, I tried to start my car, but nothing happened. The battery was dead, and there were all these people waiting behind me! I had let the battery run down. It was getting old, and eventually I had to replace it.

Of course, running down our batteries is something that can happen to us as well, both physically and spiritually. In a way, the Thanksgiving long weekend offers us an opportunity to recharge our batteries. The days are getting shorter and darker. Work and school might be starting to feel a little heavy. Perhaps we need some extra rest. But the readings today also teach us something important about how we can recharge our spiritual batteries so that we can continue facing life with hope, confidence, and joy.

One of the ways we recharge our spiritual batteries is by recognizing and giving thanks to God for the blessings we receive. This idea of God's goodness and abundance runs through all the readings today. Our God is a generous God who gives us many gifts. Even when times are difficult, when we experience struggles or darkness, God's goodness is still present in our lives, if we know where to look.

We see this in the first reading from the prophet Isaiah. Isaiah speaks to God's people during a time of difficulty and uncertainty, when they are facing threats and oppression. Yet, in the midst of these challenges, the prophet announces that God is preparing a magnificent feast for his people. God will provide an abundance of good things. Even in the midst of suffering and uncertainty, God has not abandoned his people. His blessings are still present, and he promises them a future filled with joy.

St. Paul expresses something similar in the second reading from his letter to the Philippians. When Paul writes this letter, he is actually in prison. He is experiencing real hardship. Yet, even in prison, Paul can recognize God's goodness and care for him. He explains that he has learned to live both in abundance and in need. Whatever his circumstances, he trusts that God will give him the strength he needs. All of us pass through difficult times. The readings do not tell us that suffering is easy or that we should ignore our problems. Rather, they encourage us to recognize that even in our struggles, God continues to bless us. His goodness is still there, even when it can be difficult to see.

The Gospel today is a challenging story. There are several ways we might interpret this parable, but I think one important lesson concerns our willingness to recognize and accept the blessings God gives us. Jesus tells the story of a king who prepares a magnificent wedding banquet for his son. The table is set, the food is prepared, and everything is ready. But there is a problem: nobody wants to come! The king sends out invitations, but the invited guests refuse. Some even respond with violence. Finally, the king sends his servants into the streets to invite anyone they can find. He wants people to come and enjoy the wonderful feast he has prepared.

Then we hear a rather strange detail. One of the guests arrives without a wedding garment. Even though this person has come to the banquet, he is somehow unprepared to participate fully in the celebration. Perhaps one way to understand this detail is that accepting God's gifts requires something of us. It is not enough simply to show up. We need to be open to receiving God's goodness and allowing it to shape the way we live.

Likewise, God has prepared a wonderful banquet for each of us. He gives us so many gifts: the gift of Jesus Christ, the grace we receive through the Church and our community, the talents and abilities we have, the people who love us, and the friends who care for us. God's blessings are all around us. But do we recognize them? Do we appreciate them? Do we really accept these gifts and allow them to bring us joy? And perhaps most importantly, do we share these good things with others?

The ending of the Gospel is quite stark. The man who comes without a wedding garment is cast out into the darkness. This is a challenging image, but it reminds us of the seriousness of accepting God's invitation. If we close ourselves off to God's goodness, if we cannot recognize the gifts that surround us or share them with others, we can begin to experience something of that darkness even in our lives today. We can miss the joy of the banquet that God has prepared for us.

There is a little story that illustrates this beautifully. Perhaps you've heard it before. It is a story about the difference between heaven and hell. Imagine a room filled with people sitting around a table. The table is covered with wonderful food, all kinds of delicious things. There is more than enough for everyone. But there is a problem. The people are only allowed to eat using chopsticks, and these chopsticks are extremely long. They can pick up the food, but the chopsticks are so long that they cannot bring the food to their own mouths. Everyone becomes frustrated and miserable. Although they are surrounded by abundance, they are starving. This is the image of hell.

Now imagine another room. The people are sitting around exactly the same table, with exactly the same wonderful food. They also have those incredibly long chopsticks. But there is one important difference. These people have discovered that although they cannot use the chopsticks to feed themselves, they can use them to feed one another. One person picks up some food and offers it to someone across the table. That person does the same for somebody else. Everyone is fed, everyone is satisfied, and everyone enjoys the wonderful banquet. This is the image of heaven.

I think this story helps us understand something important about the Gospel. God's goodness is already before us. The banquet has been prepared. The question is whether we recognize these gifts, accept them with gratitude, and share them generously with others. When we live with gratitude and generosity, we begin to experience something of heaven already, the joy of the banquet that Christ has prepared for us.

Now, to finish my story about the ferry, fortunately I did manage to get my car started. I had one of those little portable battery packs in the trunk, and I was able to jump-start the car and get moving again. Thankfully, I didn't hold up the ferry line for too long!

This Thanksgiving weekend, I think we have a wonderful opportunity to recharge our spiritual batteries by being grateful for the blessings God has given us. And there is no better place to do that than here at Mass. The word Eucharist itself comes from a Greek word meaning thanksgiving. Every time we celebrate the Eucharist, we give thanks to God for his goodness and for everything he has done for us.

So I would encourage each of us to do something simple during this Mass. Think of two things in your life for which you are grateful. They might be people who love you, family members or friends who care for you. Perhaps you are grateful for your work or for the opportunity to serve others. It could even be something about yourself: a talent God has given you, an ability that helps you be a good friend, or something that allows you to make a difference in somebody else's life. Think of two things, whatever they might be, and take a moment to give thanks to God for them.

As we celebrate Thanksgiving, let us recognize the goodness God has placed before us, receive his blessings with joy, and share them generously with others. In doing so, may we recharge our spiritual batteries and discover again the hope, confidence, and joy that come from living in gratitude.

Where Is God in the World Today? Bearing Fruit as God’s Vineyard

 27 Sunday OT

Jesus’ parable of the vineyard reminds us that one of the primary ways God is present in the world is through his people, who are called to bear the fruits of God’s kingdom. The strong prophetic tone of the Gospel highlights both the privilege and the responsibility of making God’s truth, goodness, peace, and love visible through our lives. St. Francis of Assisi offers a powerful example of what happens when a life bears this good fruit and becomes a living sign of God’s presence in the world.

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Where is God in the world today? How do we come to see where God is present?

I was once in a prayer group where we were asked to consider that question and share our responses. Many of the members were either new to the Church or were returning after some time away. It is a common question in prayer groups, but it is also a very important one: Where is God in the world today? There are, of course, many ways we could answer. In today’s Gospel, however, Jesus gives us one important answer. One way God is present in the world today is through us, through the community of believers, through the Church.

In the Gospel, Jesus tells the parable of the vineyard. In doing so, he draws on imagery that is very important in the Old Testament, as we hear in the first reading. God’s people are his vineyard. First Israel, and now the community of Christ’s disciples, is called to bear fruit in the world. Through his people, God blesses the world.

There is a familiar story that illustrates this well. A great flood had come, and the waters kept rising until a man was trapped in his house. Eventually, he climbed out of an upstairs window and made his way onto the roof. A man in a rowboat came by and called to him, “Come down into the boat. I’ll take you to safety.” But the man replied, “I’m fine. I’ve prayed, and God is going to save me.”

The water continued to rise. Soon someone came by in a speedboat and shouted, “You have to hurry! The water is rising and the current is getting stronger. Get into the boat, and I’ll bring you to safety.” Again, the man replied, “I’m fine. I prayed to God, and God is going to save me.” Finally, when the water was almost at the peak of the roof, a helicopter arrived. The pilot called down, “I’m lowering a ladder. Hold on, and I’ll bring you to safety.” Once again, the man refused. “Thank you, but I prayed to God, and God is going to save me.”

The waters rose, the man drowned, and he came before God. He asked, “I prayed to you. Why didn’t you save me?” God replied, “I sent you a rowboat, a speedboat, and a helicopter. What else did you expect me to do?”

The story expresses something important about how God works in the world. God so often acts through people. We, God’s children, are called to make his presence visible. Through our acts of goodness, our gifts and talents, our kindness, and our service, we can make Christ present to those around us. We are God’s vineyard, called to produce good fruit in the world.

That is an incredible privilege, but it is also an incredible responsibility. This is where the strong language of today’s Gospel becomes important. I remember some years ago doing a Bible study with a group of high school teachers. We were discussing this Gospel and asking what struck them about the passage. Almost everyone responded in the same way: “Jesus sounds so harsh. This doesn’t quite sound like the Jesus I know.”

Jesus does sound severe in this parable. But we find this elsewhere in the Gospels, particularly when Jesus wants to wake us up to the importance of what he is saying. In this sense, Jesus speaks like one of the Old Testament prophets. The prophets sometimes used very strong language because they wanted to shake people out of complacency. They called people to recognize the seriousness of their responsibilities before God. That is one reason prophets were so often rejected.

The parable itself recalls this history. God sends servants to the vineyard, but they are rejected. Jesus takes up this prophetic tradition, not because he wants us to be terrified of God, but because he wants us to understand the importance of the mission we have been given. We really are called to bear God’s fruit in the world. If we fail to do so, something of God’s light and love will be missing from the lives of those around us.

Each of us has a role to play. When we live as God’s vineyard and bear good fruit, we help make the world a better place, a world more filled with justice, peace, goodness, and love. The image of the vineyard is particularly beautiful. Grapes were an important part of daily life in Jesus’ time. They were eaten as food and made into wine. They were something valuable, nourishing, and life-giving. In the same way, our lives are meant to produce something good for the world around us.

St. Paul describes this good fruit beautifully in the second reading from his Letter to the Philippians: whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, we are called to fill our minds and our lives with these things. These are the fruits of God’s kingdom. We are called to bring truth, goodness, and beauty into the world. When we do so, God’s light shines through us.

Tomorrow the Church celebrates the feast of St. Francis of Assisi, perhaps one of the best-known and most loved saints, even among people outside the Church. There is a good reason for this. St. Francis, who lived in the thirteenth century, followed Jesus in a beautiful and compelling way. The fruits of the kingdom were visible in his life, and people were drawn to them.

Francis was a peacemaker. He sought reconciliation and unity in the Church and in society, and he famously reached across religious divisions in a time of conflict. He cared deeply for the poor and went out to those who were sick, excluded, or pushed to the margins. He desired to show them the love and peace of Christ. Francis is also remembered for his extraordinary love of creation. He recognized the goodness of God reflected in the natural world, which is why today he is so closely associated with care for creation and is known as the patron saint of animals.

In St. Francis, we see what it looks like when someone truly bears good fruit for the kingdom of God. His life became one answer to the question, “Where is God in the world today?” People could encounter something of God’s goodness through him.

Let us pray that we can hear Christ’s message in today’s Gospel in the same way. We do not need to be frightened by his prophetic tone. Rather, we can allow it to do what prophetic words are meant to do: wake us up. Jesus reminds us of both the incredible gift and the incredible responsibility we have received. Each of us has gifts and talents. Each of us has people we are called to love and serve. May we bear good fruit in this world and truly become God’s vineyard for those around us.

How Christ Transforms Our Suffering | Philippians 2 and Life Is Beautiful

 26 Sunday OT, Year A

Suffering can change the way we see ourselves, others, and even God, but St. Paul offers a different way of understanding it in his Letter to the Philippians. In Christ, God does not remain distant from human pain but empties himself, enters into our suffering, and brings the hope of resurrection. Like the cracks Leonard Cohen writes about, our wounds can become places where God's light enters us and then shines through us for others.

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I think many of you will have seen the now classic movie Life Is Beautiful, directed by Roberto Benigni and released in 1997. It is an incredibly moving film, but also a painful one to watch at times. The story centres on a man named Guido, who marries in Italy shortly before the Second World War and has a young son with his wife. Guido is Jewish, and during the war he and his family are eventually taken to a concentration camp.

Guido finds himself there with his young son, who is too little to understand fully the horrors unfolding around him. He cannot comprehend the violence, the suffering, and the terror taking place day after day. Guido, as a father, wants somehow to spare his son from this pain and preserve his innocence. So he convinces him that everything happening around them is part of an elaborate game. The soldiers, the forced labour, the rules of the camp, all of it becomes part of the story Guido creates for his son.

The film is so striking because of the contrast between the brutality surrounding them and the extraordinary love of this father. Guido goes to incredible lengths to protect his son and to teach him, through his actions, that hatred does not have the final word. He wants his son to believe that goodness and love are ultimately stronger. In the end, Guido gives his own life while continuing to protect his son, showing him, in the most painful circumstances imaginable, that life can still be beautiful.

I was thinking about this film as I reflected on the second reading we heard at Mass today from St. Paul's Letter to the Philippians. Paul speaks about what Jesus has done for us, about the descent and humility of Christ so that we might have life. In doing so, Paul touches on something universal: the reality of suffering.

Each one of us carries disappointments, struggles, and pain. For some, it may be the death of someone we love. For others, it may be a serious illness, difficulty finding work, struggles with mental health, family problems, or the uncertainty of an immigration process. We all carry suffering of one kind or another. And if we are not careful, that suffering can begin to change the way we see our lives, the people around us, and even God.

St. Paul writes to the Philippians precisely to give hope to people who are struggling. This is an extraordinarily hopeful letter, and that becomes even more remarkable when we remember Paul's own circumstances. He is writing from prison, facing an uncertain future. Yet one of the most famous lines in the entire letter is: "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice." Paul himself is suffering, and the Christian community in Philippi is experiencing its own difficulties, tensions, and opposition. Yet Paul can still speak about joy.

How can he do that?

The answer comes in the passage we heard today. Paul points the Philippians toward Christ. He gives us this beautiful hymn, often called the kenotic hymn, from the Greek word kenosis, meaning "self-emptying." Though Christ was in the form of God, he emptied himself. Jesus is God, and yet he becomes human. And he goes further still. He does not enter human life as someone wealthy or powerful. He takes the form of a servant. He humbles himself and becomes obedient even to the point of death on a cross.

Jesus is, in a sense, the true obedient Son. He listens to the Father and actually does the Father's will. His humility leads ultimately to exaltation. His path passes through suffering and death, but suffering and death do not have the final word.

This is Paul's message to the Philippians, and it is his message to us. Christ comes very close to us in our suffering. That is at the heart of the Good News. God does not promise that we will be spared every difficulty. Jesus does not simply remove suffering from human life. Instead, he enters into it. He walks with us through it. In his self-emptying love, Christ comes close to us precisely where we are wounded.

And because Christ is with us there, suffering does not have to remain meaningless. Just as Christ's suffering and death are transformed through the Resurrection, he can also transform the suffering and struggles we carry. This does not mean that suffering suddenly becomes good, or that we should pretend pain does not hurt. It means that even suffering can become a place where God's grace is at work.

That is a challenge for us, just as it was for the Philippian community. Can we really believe that Jesus is close to us in our suffering? Can we believe something even more difficult, that the wounds and struggles in our lives can become places where God's goodness enters not only our lives but also the lives of others?

Leonard Cohen expressed something of this in his song Anthem when he wrote about the cracks through which light enters. All of us are, in one way or another, cracked by what we have experienced. We carry wounds from disappointment, grief, failure, illness, or loss. Those wounds can make us turn inward. They can make us bitter or afraid. But when Christ is present in our lives, those same wounds can become openings through which God's light enters.

And there is something more. The places where we have been wounded can sometimes become the very places through which God's light shines out toward others.

Perhaps you have had this experience. You went through something difficult and, at the time, you could not understand why it was happening. Then, years later, you encountered someone going through something very similar. Because of what you had experienced, you were able to listen differently. You could understand their pain in a way someone else perhaps could not. You were able to offer a word of encouragement, patience, or compassion. Your own wound had somehow become a source of healing for another person.

Perhaps only then did part of your own suffering begin to make a little more sense.

Today, then, let us bring before God the struggles and wounds we carry. Let us ask the Holy Spirit not to allow our pain simply to become something that closes us in on ourselves. Instead, may Christ meet us in those wounded places. May the cracks in our lives become places where his light enters us, heals us, and then shines through us to bring hope to those around us.