Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time Mass Reflection: Who Do You Say That I Am ?

Now it happened that he was praying alone, and his disciples came to him and he put this question to them, 'Who do the crowds say I am?'
And they answered, 'Some say John the Baptist; others Elijah; others again one of the ancient prophets come back to life.'
'But you,' he said to them, 'who do you say I am?' It was Peter who spoke up. 'The Christ of God,' he said.
But he gave them strict orders and charged them not to say this to anyone.
He said, 'The Son of man is destined to suffer grievously, to be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes and to be put to death, and to be raised up on the third day.'Then, speaking to all, he said, 'If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross every day and follow me.
Anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but anyone who loses his life for my sake, will save it. "

Reflections here from John Kavanaugh

Who Do You Say I Am?
In the blessed lonely stillness of the night
When neither darkness nor sleep provide
A safehouse for those who would hide
From truth's confrontational guise:
Who do you say I am?

In the maddening rush of the day
When worlds spin and nerves squeal
When big names play big games
And war's lasting image of all that's gone wrong
Is a tiny left footprint
In a blood-muddied field:
Who do you say I am?

In the unfathomable reaches of the sea
Where no earthly spirit can dwell
Myth and mystery and meaning
Wash over swell upon swell
Then out of the blue a whisper
Like a beacon of light in a storm
The question that echoes down centuries:
Who do you say I am?

Amid tyranny, murder and outrage
Avarice, betrayal and war
The enduring words of the Master forge
The same keen edge as before
Cutting through masks of deceivers
Through evil, corruption and sham
The question as probing as ever:
Who do you say I am?

I come to you today laden with emptiness
No ready answers to the hows or whys
No deposits of knowledge to soothe the weeping
All too deep the wounding and the sighs.

I come in sorrow,
Though with nothing proffered
As balm for the rawness of your pain
But I pray that in the emptiness I offer
A kernel of beyondness will remain

That in its own good time will find a surface
And blossom in the springtime of its reign.

Image at top left from here

No comments: