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An Offering of Pigeons

29/12/2023

A Reflection on the Gospel for Sunday, December 31st, 2023:
The Feast of the Holy Family

Luke
2.22, 25-27, 34-35, 39-40

When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, Mary and Joseph brought the child Jesus up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord.

Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Christ of the Lord. Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law,

Simeon blessed them and said to his mother Mary, “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed — and a sword will pierce your own soul too.”

When Mary and Joseph had finished everything required by the law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee, to their own town of Nazareth. The child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom; and the favour of God was upon him.

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

The book of Leviticus outlines rules for temple sacrifices that were followed by devout Israelites for centuries. Traditionally, a firstborn son was dedicated to God with the sacrifice of a lamb: one year old, snow white, without any blemish or defect. But the scriptures also indicated that a family who could not afford such an expense could instead offer two small birds. This is the offering Mary and Joseph bring for Jesus. There’s something astounding about all this when we look at it through the lens of the Holy Trinity: the God of the Universe is born as a human baby. His parents take Him to the temple on the eighth day after his birth to offer the Son of God to the Father. And they do so with the poorest option.

One of my biggest struggles in my faith life is feeling like I’m not good enough. I want to carry myself under my own strength, achieve success and holiness all by myself, and then bring that perfected person to God. I struggle with feelings of shame when I come to prayer after having not prayed the day before or knowing I’m way overdue for the sacrament of Reconciliation. I feel like I’m giving God a half-hearted offering. Why bother if I can’t give Him what He deserves?

The Gospel for the Feast of the Holy Family is a reminder that God does not want only our perfect offerings. Jesus is offered to God the Father with two little birds, not an unblemished lamb, even though He is the Lamb. If God is pleased with pigeons, then there’s hope for me, too. I can bring Him my forgetfulness, my failures, my flaws. God asks me for an offering, now and every day, of what I have to give.

Sometimes my faith is strong and my trust in Him is great, and I feel proud of my offering. But I can imagine Mary and Joseph feeling embarrassed, standing next to other families with beautiful lambs to offer, trying to juggle a newborn and two small birds in their hands. But this little offering, this barely-good-enough second-best option, is a great gift when offered to God. God’s favourite gift is our love, even when it’s still half-hearted. God’s favourite offering is ourselves, even when we’re not sure we’re ready to give Him our all. He wants our pigeons; whatever it is we can scrape together to give Him is beautiful in His eyes. With His grace, we’ll have more to give the following day, and the day after that. But in the driest seasons, where our faith grows faint and prayer is a struggle, even our poorest offerings are always acceptable to Him.

Jenna Young

3 Comments

Safely Home

28/12/2023

2 Comments

A Reflection on the Second Reading for Sunday, December 31st, 2023:
The Feast of the Holy Family

Hebrews
11:8, 11-12, 17-19

By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to set out for a place that he was to receive as an inheritance; and he set out, not knowing where he was going. By faith Sarah herself, though barren, received power to conceive, even when she was too old, because she considered him faithful who had promised.

Therefore from one person, and this one as good as dead, descendants were born, “as many as the stars of heaven and as the innumerable grains of sand by the seashore.”

By faith Abraham, when put to the test, offered up Isaac. He who had received the promises was ready to offer up his only-begotten son, of whom he had been told, “It is through Isaac that descendants shall be named for you.” Abraham considered the fact that God is able even to raise someone from the dead — and figuratively speaking, he did receive him back.

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

How do we have faith? When the going gets rough and we’re full of doubt, how do we trust and hold on to hope?

At the time of this writing, I’m sitting on a plane back to Halifax. This short weekend trip to visit my family in Calgary has been bookended by the theme of how to keep faith even when one is unsure.

On the flight to Calgary, I struck up a conversation with the young woman sitting next to me. Somehow, we went from the topic of how the pandemic changed Toronto for the worse to how to keep the light of hope aflame when you feel like God isn’t looking out for you. Like many of us, she was struggling with loneliness and singlehood while hoping for love. I’ve been there — so recently that this whole whirlwind of being engaged still doesn’t feel real. She said something to me that resonated: “I feel like God doesn’t like me compared to everyone else.”

I told her I’d felt the same. That there were still times when I struggled with doubt. At a very low point, desperate for a change in my life and certain that God didn’t care about me as much as the rest of my friends and community, I wrote a song that contained the lyrics, “Hope is a crutch I’ve been using / to stumble through these endless days.”

Little did I know how radically He would change my life within a year. God’s time, not my time. God’s plan — not something that I could map out or see.

At the end of the flight (we managed to talk for all four hours!) she admitted that hearing my story had given her some hope that what she dreamed of could still happen. I reassured her that indeed, it could.

This conversation and the difficulty of believing — and hoping — during challenging times stayed with me during the whole weekend.

I was originally supposed to fly home to Halifax yesterday afternoon, but a powerful storm rocked the city, knocking out power and blowing shipping containers into the harbour with 100 km/hour gusts of wind. Naturally, my flight was delayed…and delayed…and delayed. I’m a decently experienced traveller, but spending hours wondering if you’re going to have to sleep on an airport floor that night is pretty stressful. Via text and phone, my seasoned traveller fiancé patiently walked me through the process of requesting that the gate clerks rebook my flight — asking me to trust him even when I didn’t want to “bother” the airline staff and thought my request wouldn’t work. I shy away from anything even resembling confrontation, which to me includes asking an airline to reroute your flight. But after some nervous excuse-making, I did what he asked — and ended up with a rebooked, rerouted flight home.

“Trust me in the future?” he asked.

Yes, I will.

Having faith and trusting requires strength, the willingness to take risks, and the ability to listen. This is what Abraham shows us all throughout his story. He and Sarah must have been close to losing faith that they would ever conceive a child, must have nearly given up hope as they aged. Then, when they were blessed with Isaac, God went and asked Abraham to sacrifice him! Imagine the faith, the trust of that man.

God’s plan, not our plan. Trust — hold on — He will always bring you safely home to Him in the end.

Kim Tan

2 Comments

A Nature to Nurture

27/12/2023

8 Comments

A Reflection on the Psalm for Sunday, December 31st, 2023:
The Feast of the Holy Family

Psalm 105

R. The Lord is our God, mindful of his covenant forever.

O give thanks to the Lord, call on his name, make known his deeds among the peoples.
Sing to him, sing praises to him; tell of all his wonderful works.

R. The Lord is our God, mindful of his covenant forever.

Glory in his holy name; let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice.
Seek the Lord and his strength; seek his presence continually.

R. The Lord is our God, mindful of his covenant forever.

Remember the wonderful works he has done, his miracles, and the judgments he uttered,
O offspring of his servant Abraham, children of Jacob, his chosen ones.

R. The Lord is our God, mindful of his covenant forever.

He is mindful of his covenant forever, of the word that he commanded, for a thousand generations,
The covenant that he made with Abraham, his sworn promise to Isaac.

R. The Lord is our God, mindful of his covenant forever.

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

As I write, a lightly scented candle burns before me and the first snowfall of the year tucks in the Christmas lights we strung outside last night. My dog is curled up on a blanket, and my children sleep soundly in their beds. My surroundings whisper the calm of peace, but my interior squirms and shifts.

The Psalm for the last day of 2023 calls me to “Remember the wonderful works he has done, his miracles, and the judgments he uttered.” It seems my body is aware in this moment, that to remember the miracles He has performed in this last year, is to also call to mind the struggles I endured that required His rescue. And so, I sit in this tension, and let the emotion come.

Our God has spent this year teaching me this gentle way throughout all the difficult moments that came before me. And now, when I notice this interior unrest, I need not run, or distract myself from it because I have learned who He is—He who is in this with me. For years, I have known His name, I have heard His promises, but I have not believed in His nature.

God is not only true to the tangible promises He has offered to Abraham, Jacob, and Isaac—He is true to the nature of His very existence. He is Love: the kind of love which is described in 1Corinthians 13:4-8: patient, kind, persevering, protective, trustworthy. This is not always how I have experienced love in this world, or what others have described as love, but this is who He is. His nature is gentle and He cannot but remain true to it. He is the God whose nature is to nurture.

So to understand His nature in the context of my struggles as I look over the past year is to trust in His essence—breathe Him in and notice Him softening all the hard places in me. As I do this, the hard becomes beautiful, because in seeing the truth of who He is, I also notice Him noticing me. Here comes the truly healing bit, because, “It is one thing to be able to see; it is an entirely different thing to be seen” (Jackie Hill-Perry). To learn about the truth of the nature of God—Yahweh—is to believe what He has promised is also true. He has promised to come to me, in the person of Jesus who lived on this same Earth, and in the person of the Holy Spirit, who lives in my same body.

And sees me.

So today, I rest in the gift of this uncommon quiet, given to me at the end of a noise-filled year, and I call on His name: Jesus, my Lord, Holy Spirit, Creator, Comforter, Holy Redeemer, God of Love, Consolation of Israel, Seer of All, Protector of my heart, Prince of Peace, Bread of Life, Deliverer, Chief Shepherd, Counsellor, Healer, Gentle One, Faithful One, Yahweh.

Lori MacDonald

8 Comments

Love to Laugh!

26/12/2023

2 Comments

A Reflection on the First Reading for Sunday, December 31st, 2023:
The Feast of the Holy Family

Genesis
15:1-6, 17:3b-5, 15-16; 21:1-7

The word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision, “Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great.” But Abram said, “O Lord God, what will you give me, for I continue childless, and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?” And Abram said, “You have given me no offspring, and so a slave born in my house is to be my heir.” But the word of the Lord came to him, “This man shall not be your heir; no one but your very own issue shall be your heir.”

The Lord brought him outside and said, “Look toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your descendants be.” And he believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness.

God said to him, “As for me, this is my covenant with you: You shall be the father of a multitude of nations. No longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham; for I have made you the father of a multitude of nations.”

God said to Abraham, “As for Sarah your wife, you shall not call her Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name. I will bless her, and moreover I will give you a son by her. I will bless her, and she shall give rise to nations; kings of peoples shall come from her.”

The Lord dealt with Sarah as he had said, and the Lord did for Sarah as he had promised. Sarah conceived and bore Abraham a son in his old age, at the time of which God had spoken to him. Abraham gave the name Isaac to his son whom Sarah bore him. And Abraham circumcised his son Isaac when he was eight days old, as God had commanded him. Abraham was a hundred years old when his son Isaac was born to him. Now Sarah said, “God has brought laughter for me; everyone who hears will laugh with me.” And she said, “Who would ever have said to Abraham that Sarah would nurse children? Yet I have borne him a son in his old age.”

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

I love to laugh. Growing up in Newfoundland, I learned from an early age the importance of being able to laugh, particularly at oneself. In my experience, to describe someone as “good humoured” is very high praise indeed! Anyone who is up for a laugh is welcome wherever they go.

Recently, we invited a priest friend over for dinner and, taking advantage of having an ordained minister in the house, I asked him if he would bless the crucifix that I had just hung above our front entryway. “Father,” I said, “Would you like me to take that down off the wall for you to bless it?” “Yes,” he said. “I don’t think the blessing will reach all the way up there.” What a wiseacre! I still smile over that one.

One of the best laughs I ever had happened years ago when my mother won a prize at a raffle. We all had arrived at her house for Christmas dinner, and she was showing us the prize, which appeared to be a football helmet. My mother had recently taken up snowmobiling, and she was debating out loud whether or not this helmet would be good safety gear. “The only thing is,“ she said, “there doesn’t seem to be a way to fasten it.” She put it on her head, and we could all see that it was quite loose. “I suppose I could thread a lace underneath my chin and attach it to the helmet to keep it on,” she mused. As she lifted it off, the whole thing broke apart, and it became clear to us that it was not, in fact, a football helmet, but rather a chip and dip set in the shape of a helmet! Well, we started to laugh. Just the image of my mother skidooing the environs of St. John’s, wearing a chip and dip set on her head had us all in gales of laughter. Tears streamed down our faces and our stomachs hurt we laughed so much.

Laughter is certainly great medicine. I firmly believe that God has an excellent sense of humour. After all, if we are made in His image, and we enjoy a good laugh, then surely God does too.

In the first reading for this Sunday, we meet Sarah at a time of great joy in her life. She says, “God has brought laughter for me; everyone who hears will laugh with me.” I believe Sarah’s laughter comes from two things: first, her great joy at bearing a son in her greatly advanced age; and, second, a desire to laugh at herself. God had promised Sarah and Abraham a son but, as the years passed by with no child in sight, they began to believe that God could not fulfill his promise. How could people so old ever become first-time parents? But, our God is a God of surprises. Even old age did not prevent Him from making Sarah a mother. In doubting God and then seeing how wrong she was, Sarah must have laughed to herself, “Well, Lord, you did it. How wrong I was to put you in a box!"

There is plenty in this world that is sobering. So, when God blesses us with opportunities to laugh at ourselves, and to laugh with others, surely we can open our hands and welcome them as the God-given gifts they are.

Donna Davis

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An Offering of Pigeons

A Reflection on the Gospel for Sunday, December 31st, 2023:The Feast of the Holy Family

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

Safely Home

A Reflection on the Second Reading for Sunday, December 31st, 2023:The Feast of the Holy Family

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

A Nature to Nurture

A Reflection on the Psalm for Sunday, December 31st, 2023: The Feast of the Holy Family

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

Love to Laugh!

A Reflection on the First Reading for Sunday, December 31st, 2023: The Feast of the Holy Family

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

Archives

A Reflection on the Gospel for Sunday, December 31st, 2023:
The Feast of the Holy Family

A Reflection on the Second Reading for Sunday, December 31st, 2023:
The Feast of the Holy Family

A Reflection on the Psalm for Sunday, December 31st, 2023:
The Feast of the Holy Family

A Reflection on the First Reading for Sunday, December 31st, 2023:
The Feast of the Holy Family