​+ Beginning on Septuagesima Sunday, at matins we read the book of Genesis. It’s teachings about the fundamentals of creation and creation and the fall, and the covenants made between God and man provide much for the monk with which to contemplate.
 
This morning at matins the Church nourishes us with the example of Abraham. The matins responsories (and also the Magnificat antiphon of first Vespers) marvel at his willingness, when commanded by God to sacrifice his son Isaac, not to stint to give even this gift of obedience to the Lord. His faith was such that he could hold back nothing from God, even the seemingly unthinkable demand to offer Isaac as a holocaust. Accordingly, his reward was great: rightly does Sacred Tradition name him as “our patriarch” in the Roman canon.
 
So too, the blind man of the Gospel of Quinquagesima is rewarded for his impertinent faith with the restoration of his sight. “Your faith has healed you,” Our Lord teaches him.
 
Saint Paul teaches us about faith in today’s Epistle, stating that faith, hope and charity are those things which remain unto eternity. And, after his renown exposition of its content and meaning, he teaches that the greatest of these three is charity.
 
Charity presumes and builds upon the gift of faith. Charity is fired by hope; it radiates the resurrected presence of Hope Himself: Christ our Lord. Indeed, charity perfects faith and hope and is the overflowing of grace into the practical and habitual love of God and neighbour.
 
Charity is a burning love of God that will sacrifice all else for Him, as we see in the Patriarch Abraham, in the lives of great saints and martyrs whose only concern is that same love of God. All else flows from this reality, as the first Commandment teaches us. Saint Benedict teaches us to put nothing before the Work of God (Rule, ch. 43). If we get this fundamental precept right, loving and worshipping Almighty God first, everything else will follow in good order.
 
Charity is a ‘tough’ love that overflows into love of one’s neighbour, even when this love is not welcomed. One cannot but rejoice in the growth of missionary and practical charity towards our unborn brothers and sisters amongst young Catholics and some leaders throughout the world – even as one must recoil in horror at the chilling aggression of far too many world leaders towards their innocent and defenceless subjects. Yes, there are situations where charity, grounded in faith and hope, demands decisive action in the name of Christ.
 
So too, in respect of my own life, true charity demands decisive action at times. In respect of important decisions, questions of vocation, particular acts of sacrifice or generosity, etc., we often say: “Yes, I would if only…” Abraham may well have had this temptation. The martyrs were often taunted with alternatives.
 
True ‘tough-love’ charity doesn’t trade in “if-only’s”. It dismisses them for the fear and dissembling that is their currency. Founded on faith and steeped in hope, charity seeks to carry out God’s will, no matter what. It’s currency is not “if only…”. It is as simple as it is clear: ““I shall … out of love for God.”
 
Such charity, as we know from the Patriarch Abraham and from the witness of so many saints, is richly rewarded by God. It is fruitful in ways that currently we cannot imagine (nor could Abraham or the saints). And as Saint Paul teaches, it endures into eternal life.
 
For the perfection of faith and hope in a true, tough and fruitful charity, that we too might carry the beauty it brings to our souls, and its fruits, to heaven, let us beg Almighty God in this Holy Mass. + 

+ As Spring approaches we turn our attention to the garden and to the planting of seeds. Their germination and growth rightly occupies us. The monastery’s greenhouse is currently full of expectation of the same.
 
We know that not every seed germinates; we know that not every seed that germinates grows well and that not every plant produces good fruit. So too, we know the danger of pests that can destroy the plants we cultivate.
 
The parable of the sower should not require altogether that much explanation then.  Indeed, Our Lord’s own explanation of it should suffice.
 
The question I must ask is: How grows the Word of God in my heart and soul? And if weeding or watering or fertilising needs to be done, then, as last Sunday’s Gospel asked: “How is it that you are standing here idle all day?” (Mt 20:6) We know what has to be done. We must make a resolution of the will so to do and get on with doing what is necessary whilst we have the opportunity, no matter how late in the day it may be. Upon this we shall be judged.
 
There is a little more to ponder, though. The last verse of the Gospel this morning states “As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bring forth fruit with patience.”
 
Yes, weeding and fertilising are necessary. We must remove from our lives those things which grow up only to replace and kill the life of God in our soul. And we must nourish ourselves frequently through prayer and by the grace of the sacraments. These are the basics and daily realities of Christian life.
 
But then we must hold the Word of God “fast” – we must hold to it faithfully – and bring forth fruit with patience.
Holding fast to the Word of God means just that, and not deviating from it or watering it down with false compassion or replacing it with some ideology. In his letter to the Galatians Saint Paul teaches clearly:

 “I am astonished that you are … turning to a different gospel—not that there is another gospel, but there are some who trouble you and want to pervert the gospel of Christ.  But even if we, or an angel from heaven, should preach to you a gospel contrary to that which we preached to you, let him be accursed.” (Gal. 1:6-8.)

​We too, in our day, must beware of those who would pervert the gospel of Christ.

The Word of God as faithfully handed down in her living Tradition and solemnly taught by the Church is that to which we must hold fast – even if an angel from heaven (in whatever shape or form) teaches otherwise. This may not be easy, but we must be alert. We must not be paranoid: development in the teaching of the Church is possible. Downright contradiction is not.  

To bring forth fruit in patience is, perhaps, more difficult, for it requires that we cultivate the life of faith within us daily, with the patience of a gardener. A small seed can grow into the biggest of trees (as the parable of the mustard seed reminds us) but it will not do so overnight.

We must be patient with ourselves: some weeds can be very deep-rooted and difficult to remove – they can shoot up again even when we think they are long-since gone. And we must be patient with God: gardeners give sufficient fertiliser for growth at the correct time – too much too soon could do damage.

For the grace necessary to seek the conversion of our wills so we may worthily receive the Word of God, and for the virtues of fidelity and patience so as to bring forth an abundance of good fruit, let us pray with confidence and with devotion at this altar this morning. +

+ “How is it that you are standing here idle all day?”

This question, put by the owner of the vineyard merely one hour before the end of the working day in the process of hiring the idle men and sending them to work (any generously paying them a full-day’s wage regardless) cuts to the quick of many a human situation. For whilst we may be busy about many things – indeed our activity and even our production in this world’s terms may be great – in respect of the Kingdom of Heaven we may well be standing around idle.
 
It is instructive that the liturgical tradition of Holy Mother the Church challenges us with this question on Septuagesima Sunday, when we resume violet vestments and are thus reminded that the Great Fast – Lent – is less than three weeks away. For it would not do for us to be standing around idle throughout Lent. There is work to be done.
 
There is work that we have to do in respect of ourselves. And there is work to be done in the Vineyard of the Lord.
 
In respect of ourselves, the Gospel calls us to address once and for all that which I have still not addressed: the vice(s) that I have, perhaps, given up tackling; the situation in which I have placed or find myself that is not according to God’s law; the duties that I simply have not gotten around to fulfilling, etc. Even if it is very late in the day, even if for most of my life I have been idle in respect of something, even if I am tired and discouraged, I am called by the Gospel of Our Lord Jesus Christ to tackle the task at hand. And I have the assurance of a generous and full reward for so doing.
 
In respect of the Kingdom of God there is work to be done in the Vineyard of the Lord. Each of us according to our particular vocation is called to do what is required of us. Our Baptism requires that we work as missionaries in every circumstance of life. Whatever our state, whatever our work or profession, we must not be idle in respect of the witness we are called to give to the Truth that Salvation comes through Jesus Christ and the One True Church He founded.
 
If I have hitherto done little or nothing in this respect, if it is already the eleventh hour and I am still procrastinating in the practical apostasy that renders my faith a “purely private matter,” there is still time. Our Lord calls me to work for Him now, before the day is over. Before the day, and all that could be accomplished during it, even at the last minute, is lost.
 
St Gregory the Great’s commentary on this Gospel at matins this morning focuses on the specific call of the Lord to exclusive service in His Vineyard. It must be observed that in our day there are many young men standing around idle in respect of the work to be done here. Some will speak of going to work in His Vineyard, but never actually do it. Others will enter a process of discernment that becomes an end in itself, if not perpetual, and which renders them idle for decades. Others still dissemble into a singularity and particularity that insists that the vineyard confirm to their own preoccupations, disdaining to work in anything that does not conform accordingly and resting idle beyond even the eleventh hour not matter how often the Lord calls.
 
In these circumstances the Lord’s question resounds with force: “How is it that you are standing here idle all day?” And His instruction is clear: “Go ye, also, into my vineyard.” Saint Benedict teaches us that “Idleness is the enemy of the soul” (Rule ch. 48). Vocational idleness is indeed an enemy – one which threatens the very life of the soul, now and for all eternity. And it rightly brings judgement upon us, for if I am idle the work which Almighty God in His Providence has planned that I alone can accomplish shall remain undone. The growth of the Kingdom of God shall be retarded, not advanced, by my sloth.
 
My brothers and sisters, there is work to be done by each of us – in ourselves and for the Lord in different and crucial ways. Septuagesima calls us to rise from our idleness – of whatever sort – and to get on with the work that must needs be done. Now. Not tomorrow. Not (perhaps) in Lent. But now.
 
The purple vestments of Septuagesima beckon us to repentance and conversion. With the grace of the sacrament of Confession let us be purged of the sins of idleness. Nourished by the Holy Eucharist let us get on with the work of the day. It may well be approaching the eleventh hour, but the Lord shall still recompense us generously, if only we shall do what He requires of us. Now. +

+ “Volo. Mundare.” (I will it. Be healed.)
 
These two words, surely, rank amongst the most beautiful in the Gospel. They form the response to a demand posed by a leper full of humility and faith following the Sermon on the Mount: “Lord, if you will it, you can heal me.”
 
The Church, through her Sacred Liturgy, invites us to meditate upon this encounter. From it are taken the texts of the antiphons of the Benedictus and Magnificat of Lauds and Vespers today. So too, the collect of this Mass resonates the reality it makes manifest: “Look mercifully upon our weakness, and stretch forth the right hand of thy majesty to protect us.”
 
Certainly, there is much here for we sophisticated moderns, whose leprosies are by no means as straightforward or as easily curable, to contemplate.
 
Do I have the faith in Christ’s healing power that is necessary? Or do I languish in despair in the unspoken conviction that my vices and maladies are simply a permanent feature of my life?
 
Am I prepared to accept that His healing may not be exactly that which I ‘ordered,’ as it were? The paralytic brought to Our Lord in the second chapter of the Gospel of Saint Mark was forgiven his sins. His physical healing was added on as a rebuke to the incredulous Pharisees. It is clear that Our Lord prioritised the forgiveness of sins over the relief of bodily suffering. I may be tempted to do otherwise.

Do we have the humility to accept that, perhaps, for some reason, the Lord may not wish to cure us of some malady of body or soul? St Paul teaches us – from his own experience and seemingly bitter struggle – that God’s position is, at times, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Cor 12:9)
 
We cannot necessarily know God’s purpose in permitting our suffering – even (especially!) that suffering which we bring upon ourselves and others through our sins. Perhaps our suffering is the path by which God’s Providence leads us to the faith and humility manifested by the leper. Would he have had such faith were he not suffering so terribly? Regardless, we know that his humble request was rewarded - and that gives us hope, no matter how much or from what we suffer.
 
Our duty, then, is to cultivate the soil in which that humility and faith can take root and grow. This is the business of the conversion of life which, as any monk knows, is a daily duty sustainable only with prayer, the worthy reception of the Sacraments, works of charity, etc. Perseverance in these shall allow faith and humility to flower and bear fruit. And when we are thus disposed, we can ask the Lord to heal us. He shall, for He so wills, if but we ask with the leper's dispositions. +

+ “The spiritual gifts we have differ, according to the particular grace which has been assigned to each,” Saint Paul teaches us in this morning’s Epistle. “Each must perform his own task well,” he continues, “…unwearied in activity, aglow with the spirit, waiting like slaves upon the Lord, buoyed up by hope, patient in affliction, persevering in prayer,” etc.
 
There is more than enough for each of us to be getting on with here, particularly where it is clear which particular grace – which state in life or vocation – is ours, be that the monastic cloister, the secular priesthood, a form of religious life, Christian marriage or the single life in the world. Almighty God has placed me in these circumstances at this given point in time and my task is clear. As St Paul would remind us, our duty is simply to persevere in faith, hope and charity in fulfilling the responsibilities that the grace I have been given places upon me through the normal means of spiritual sustenance available through daily prayer and regular recourse to the sacraments.
 
There is great joy and peace to be had in arriving at this point in life – be that the profession of monastic vows, ordination, or the celebration of Holy Matrimony. And rightly are these occasions celebrated – as they were at Cana, in Galilee, as the Holy Gospel of this Mass recounts. Our Lord himself attended the wedding feast, together with his mother.
 
We know well the miracle of the changing of the water into wine, somewhat reluctantly performed by Our Lord at the insistence of his seemingly impetuous mother. We may be tempted to think that this miracle was something ‘rather cute,’ one of politeness, to save embarrassment. But we should not underestimate either the importance, or indeed the mystical significance, of wine in Sacred Scripture. Let it suffice to remember our Lord’s words at the Last Supper:
 
And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you; for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. I tell you I shall not drink again of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.” (Mt 26:27-29)
 
That Our Lord ensured that the Wedding at Cana could continue to be celebrated with the very best of wine is clearly an indication of the presence of the Kingdom of God – made manifest for the first time by a miracle that honours, no less, the holy vocation of marriage.
 
This miracle came about, as I have said, through the somewhat impetuous insistence of Our Blessed Lady. Our Lord even seemed annoyed by her demand. And yet, He complied.
 
One small detail here should not be overlooked – or rather, one small phrase of our Blessed Lady: “Quodcunque dixtite vobis, facite.” (Whatever He says to you, do it.) These words come from the Virgin of Nazareth who had herself responded to the Angel Gabriel with “Be it done unto me according to thy word,” at the Annunciation. Now, some decades later and – as we heard in the Gospel of the first Sunday after Epiphany – her having pondered the mystery of her Son in her heart, she is able both to ask her Son to act and to instruct those involved, with confidence to get on with doing whatever He tells you.
 
If we wish to drink of the new wine of the Kingdom of God and be washed clean of our sins by its saving power, if we wish to know the peace and joy in this life that is given to those who serve the Lord according to their own particular spiritual gifts, if we wish to rejoice forever in the next life for our good and faithful service here (cf. Mt 25 14-30) these words “Whatever He says to you, do it,” are imperative.
 
Procrastination or pelagian ‘discernment’ – where my will, not God’s, is uppermost – have no place. Waiting for the approval of my peers or family is a perilous postponement. The wedding feast is now, and the wine has run out. My God-given place is to provide new wine – the best of wine! – by means of my prompt and willing cooperation with what God asks of me. Today.
 
If I do not, the particular spiritual gifts he has given me, or which he plans to give me, shall lie dormant or may never even be received. The feast may devolve into a famine for the lack of that precisely new wine I was called to bring.
 
Our Blessed Mother’s faith is the catalyst of the miracle at the wedding of Cana. At the sacrificial feast of the Kingdom of God enacted on this altar this morning, with great confidence, let us ask her intercession, that we shall have the courage to do what Our Lord requires of us. Today. +

+ “How is it that you sought me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?”
 
With these words the boy Jesus reproves the Blessed Virgin Mary for what was, on her part and on the part of Saint Joseph, an entirely understandable anxiety at having apparently lost their twelve-year-old son. A mother’s distress when she cannot answer the question “Where is he?” is more than understandable. So too is her surprise and even annoyance at finding that, instead of travelling home as she would have expected, her son was off doing his own things – conversing with the teachers in the Temple, no less!
 
The boy’s response “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” seems precocious. One might expect a humble apology. Instead, Our Blessed Lady is reproved.
 
This misunderstanding – if not quarrel – in the Holy Family is instructive. At matins this morning Saint Ambrose commented that Our Lady was rebuked because her thoughts were purely human. She had not yet grasped that, even as a boy, Our Blessed Lord belonged in His Father’s house; that his God-given mission took precedence over all other concerns.
 
There is no sin involved here. Everyone is acting for the good. But what is happening is that Our Lord making manifest a hierarchy of goods: that which concerns God, that which is supernatural, comes before merely human concerns.
 
In placing this Gospel before us today the Church invites us to consider this teaching carefully. What comes first for me in the particular circumstances of my life? Are my concerns purely human? Does the worship of God and the keeping of the teaching of His Church take a second place, when it should occupy the first?
 
In particular, for young people considering the question of how Almighty God is calling them to serve Him in this life, this teaching presents a clear challenge. Am I concerned simply for human comforts, or am I willing to accept that if I “seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things shall be [mine] as well” (Mt 6:33).
 
An honest and generous consideration of this challenge may give rise to the reality given expression by the song of the psalmist:
 
One thing have I asked of the Lord,
    that will I seek after;
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
    all the days of my life,
to behold the beauty of the Lord,
    and to inquire in his temple. (Ps. 27:4)
 
There is no monk who does not know the moment when this reality, when these words, first touched his heart and he knew that henceforth he belonged ‘in his Father’s house.” And there are no few parents for whom this caused anxiety, particularly when their child is seemingly very young and may be thought to be behaving rashly or against his or her best (worldly) interests.
 
That the Holy Family itself experienced this tension should be something of a comfort to all parties concerned. But the teaching set before us by the Church today calls us beyond mere comfort. It calls us all – whatever the particular circumstances of our life and whatever vocation to which Almighty God calls us – to be about the things of God first. It calls us to a radical acceptance that yes, we must occupy ourselves with the things of God before all others – be that as a monk or nun, a spouse, a single man or woman, a secular cleric or an apostolic religious. And it calls us to not only permit, but to encourage and foster others, so to do.
 
Many years later as Our Blessed Lady knelt at the foot of the Cross, amidst the terrible human anguish she suffered, perhaps she remembered her twelve-year-old son’s rebuke? Perhaps even then she could not comprehend fully how His insistence on doing His Father’s will was truly necessary, at such a brutal cost?
 
The light and glory of the Resurrection of her Son removed all doubt and wiped away all tears. So to it shall for us, if but we place the things of God first and persevere in faith in Him.

Perhaps, today, we kneel before the Cross of this altar in anguish. Perhaps doubts continue to arise in our hearts. Let us ask the intercession of our Blessed Lady and beg the grace of perseverance that we, and all close to us, may more perfectly know and live from the light and glory of the resurrected Christ that, in this new Year of Our Lord 2021, we too may be first and foremost occupied with the things of God! +